TSBIRBV Ch 287

Chapter 287. Cause and Effect (14)

Namgung Un’s face was bright and unwavering.

He looked utterly convinced that the matter would now be resolved.

But Haryang did not share that optimism.

“Naïve.”

As if to confirm his thought, a figure rose from the host’s seat.

It was an elderly man—thin but straight-backed, his posture solid as iron. His eyes gleamed with inner light, betraying years of martial cultivation.

This rigid-looking man was a warrior of the Gongdong Sect and a sitting elder of the Martial Alliance.

“I, Elder Kang, understand Young Master Namgung’s words.”

He paused briefly, as if swallowing a sigh, then continued.

“The Dragon-Phoenix Tournament is a festival enjoyed by all within the orthodox martial world. As such, the winner receives immense honor—a prize anyone would covet.”

The old man shook his head slowly.

“The man called Je Haryang sought to climb to that position through deceit, and this was confirmed through a careful investigation by the Martial Alliance. We merely chose not to make the details public to avoid ruining a young man’s future.”

“Then what are those details?” Namgung Un asked, his voice sharp.

The elder clicked his tongue softly. “Let us simply say they were… deeply troubling.”

In truth, there were no such details. He could fabricate them later if needed.

What mattered to him now was to quell the unrest and bury the matter before it spread further.

“Young Master Namgung,” he went on, adopting a kindly tone, “you must know that the world is full of those who exploit the goodwill of others.”

He turned his focus on Namgung Un, intending to discredit him indirectly. To undermine his argument, he first had to shake the people’s trust in him.

“There’s no need to speak in circles,” Namgung Un said evenly.

“I’m saying,” the elder replied, voice measured, “that this Je Haryang may have deceived you—and others as well.”

Namgung Un said nothing. He had to fight to keep his expression calm, to keep the bitterness from showing.

He could almost feel Je Haryang’s gaze on him from somewhere within the crowd. That silent, unseen stare pierced through him, chilling his chest.

The elder before him was a man of great prestige. During the previous tournament, he had stood beside the Alliance Leader, smiling proudly as Namgung Un’s victory was declared. Namgung Un had even seen him converse with his father several times.

No, he had never thought the man corrupt or cruel.

Had it not been for this incident, he might still have viewed him as one of the martial world’s venerable seniors—someone worthy of respect.

“Young Master Namgung,” the elder continued with a sigh, “I understand your youthful sense of chivalry and your inability to overlook injustice. But when the Martial Alliance acts, it always does so with careful deliberation and weight.”

His hand stroked his beard slowly, the very image of patient understanding. He looked down upon Namgung Un like a kindly elder guiding an idealistic youth.

“What’s that supposed to mean? The Namgung heir was deceived?”

“No matter how gifted, he’s still inexperienced.”

“But what about the former Beggar’s Union Elder?”

“I heard he left the Alliance on bad terms. Maybe he’s using this as a chance to humiliate them.”

“So this is all political, huh?”

The murmurs rippled through the audience, many of whom were seasoned martial artists well-acquainted with the inner workings of the martial world.

“Some things never change.”

Though Jeok Nogae heard every word, his face remained calm. Inside, however, his blood seethed.

It reminded him too well of the day he’d chosen to abandon the world and retreat into seclusion.

And yet, he hadn’t come here just to stand idly by and leave everything to Namgung Un.

Just as he was about to step forward, a clear, ringing female voice echoed across the arena.

“This is Jahyeon of the Botam Temple.”

Seated beside her was Han Hongseol, an outer disciple of the same sect who had once fought Yegyeol.

“Outer disciple Han Hongseol fought a fair and honorable duel under the Alliance’s supervision and accepted her defeat. And now you claim Je Haryang is a fraud?”

Jahyeon’s lips curved in a razor-edged smile, one that was equal parts sarcasm and scorn.

“Are you saying that our Botam Temple’s swordswomen were fooled by a mere swindler? Or perhaps…”

Her tone sharpened.

“…you intend to accuse the Botam Sect of conspiring with a mere junior to falsify the results of the match?”

The crowd stirred.

Though the Botam Sect was not one of the Nine Great Sects—its temple being small and remote—it was nonetheless one of the oldest orthodox orders in martial history, with an unblemished reputation.

Would such a sect ever stoop to falsifying a tournament outcome? The very notion was absurd.

By voicing the possibility aloud, Jahyeon planted a seed of doubt in everyone’s mind.

After all, wasn’t it suspicious that the former Beggar’s Union Elder, the Tang Clan’s young master, and the Namgung heir had all joined forces to defend a single man?

“Are we sure he’s truly innocent?” someone muttered.

The murmurs began to shift again, tension rippling through the crowd.

“This is no place for the Botam Sect to interfere,” Elder Kang snapped sharply, cornered and visibly irritated now. “Do not forget that the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament is hosted by the Martial Alliance, Jahyeon.”

Jahyeon scoffed.

“And will you take responsibility for that statement, Elder?”

The two glared at each other, their standoff hanging thick in the air—until a booming voice cut through it.

“I am Mak Gangso of the Roaring Dragon Fist Sect.”

A man as broad as a mountain rose from the VIP seats.

“I did not intend to speak—but I can no longer sit by and watch this farce.”

Clicking his tongue, he went on, “I was fortunate enough to witness Je Haryang’s matches from the very beginning. He is a martial artist who seeks the pure essence of combat—his movements were at times so swift, even my eyes could not follow.”

He shook his head.

“Can you believe it? A youth so skilled that even I, Mak Gangso—one of the hundred greatest masters under heaven—couldn’t track his hands!”

His words carried a trace of arrogance, but the meaning was clear: he acknowledged Je Haryang’s skill as genuine.

“So if an unaffiliated young fighter defeats a disciple of one of the Great Sects, he’s automatically branded a cheater? Shame on you!”

The burly man’s voice thundered across the arena as he glared down at Elder Kang.

The elder’s face flushed red with anger.

“I understand your view, Great Hero Mak, but this is a matter for the Martial Alliance—”

“I am Jang Gilyu of the Seonghwan Sect. My opinion is the same as Great Hero Mak’s.”

“I am the Grandmaster Cheon Jin of the Ami Sect. I’ve seen Je Haryang fight three times, and I can attest to his skill. His victory was well-earned.”

“I am the Wanderer King, unaffiliated like Je Haryang himself. I agree with my peers—Je Haryang is innocent.”

“I am Han Hongseol, outer disciple of the Botam Sect. Though I lost to him, I accept it as my own shortcoming. Do not sully the honor of the man who defeated me.”

“I am Yeo Ji-seung of Martial Studies Hall! I fought him myself and lost—but there are defeats more valuable than victory. I will use this one to grow stronger!”

Like a swelling tide, one master after another rose to speak.

At first, their names could still be made out, but soon the voices overlapped, their declarations blending into a roaring wave that filled the air.

And yet, though their words differed, their message was the same:

Je Haryang was innocent.

Elder Kang’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“They’ve all gone mad. Completely insane.”

He muttered the words almost to himself—but the audience heard him.

A storm of boos erupted. Someone even stood and pointed an accusing finger at him.

Just as Elder Kang opened his mouth to retort, a messenger rushed to him, pale and breathless.

“Elder! Someone from the Alliance has arrived!”

A few whispered words were exchanged. Then the elder’s face went deathly white.

The crowd watched as he stumbled away, retreating in panic.

Meanwhile, Namgung Un turned toward where Je Haryang had been seated—

—but the seat was empty.

Haryang walked quietly through the corridors.

It was fascinating, watching justice unfold through Namgung Un’s hands. Yet he knew there were things that could never be reached through idealism alone.

He had remained behind the scenes, subtly guiding the flow of events as Namgung Un prepared.

He knew Namgung Un held every piece of evidence needed to prove Yegyeol’s innocence. So his own task was simple: to silence anyone who might rise to oppose him.

In truth, it was far easier to destroy a man than to prove another’s innocence.

He had sent Hongyeo to the Botam Sect—another push to keep the tide flowing the right way.

He had also taken measures within the Martial Alliance itself.

By now, Elder Kang would have been summoned into a private meeting with the Alliance Leader and the military advisor, where he would be questioned closely.

Kang, after all, was less a martial artist and more a politician. He had made countless alliances, crossed far too many lines.

Meanwhile, the informants Jinju Eon Clan had used to spread Je Haryang’s slander had all been rounded up and imprisoned—to ensure none could heckle from the crowd today.

Still, it was impossible to silence everyone—especially Eon Chaegwol’s drinking companions, many of whom were heirs or young masters of their own sects.

If they all disappeared suddenly, it would raise suspicion and limit his freedom of action.

But Haryang wasn’t worried.

Those types were strong only against the weak, yet cowardly before the strong.

As voices of authority rose—declaring Je Haryang’s innocence and strength—the Eon Clan’s lackeys shrank one by one, silenced under the weight of public scorn.

“Shame on you!”

“I vouch for his skill!”

“Je Haryang is innocent!”

The cries echoed in his mind.

He tried to shake them off, but they returned again and again, like reverberations in a cavern.

Perhaps it was because his own name was tangled among them that he felt such strange unease—

a subtle, haunting resonance that had begun the moment Yegyeol reappeared in his life.