418 - The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

The Moyong family has been a martial clan maintaining its traditions for over a thousand years. Although the people of the Central Plains often refer to the Moyong family as the tyrant of Liaodong Fortress, they do not fully grasp the implications of this title. Only the officials appointed to Liaodong Fortress and those living in the Manchuria region truly understand what it means to be the tyrant of Liaodong. "Run for your lives!" “Damn the Moyong family!!!” It’s useless to charge in. The Jurchens who attack are martial artists. Running is futile too, for they have mastered horsemanship better than the Jurchens. They wield any weapon without hesitation and are unflinching in cutting down foreign foes. “It is the order of the lord! Show them why we are the Moyong family!” Martial artists, who for over a thousand years have become experts in dealing with foreign tribes. They are the tyrants of Liaodong Fortress. The Moyong family. “We've subdued them all.” Moyong Sang Ah watched calmly as the leader of the Jurchens who attacked the settlement was forced to kneel before her by the leader of the Spear Brigade. “You wench! The chieftain won't stand idly by… Ugh!” There was no need to listen further. With a precise strike, the head rolled to the ground. “Spare one and send them back to the chieftain. If he has any complaints, tell him to come by tomorrow.” She did not wish for unnecessary bloodshed, but once her own had been spilt, the story changed. If they wanted a fight, she was willing to show them why they were the Moyong family. Moyong Sang Ah wiped the blood from her blade and gazed into the distance. “Yes, I will relay the message. I should contact the main force, just in case... My lord?” A child was approaching the Spear Brigade. Who was this child? A child from the settlement perhaps. Sang Ah walked towards the child who was seeking her out. “Fairy lady! Fairy lady!” Perhaps her appearance felt so otherworldly to the child, resembling a fairy descending from the heavens, that they called out to her for help. “What’s the matter?” “Mother won’t wake up. Can the fairy lady heal her?” The child’s innocent plea struck the hearts of the warriors witnessing the scene. Behind the child’s fingertips was a mother who had already left the world. Sang Ah's eyes trembled as she looked upon the child. “Come here.” Sang Ah knelt to meet the child’s gaze. What could she say? The child was too young to grasp the concept of death. Her heart heavy, she opened her arms. “Fairy lady, did my mom go to the sky like my dad?” The child’s trembling voice reached her. Sang Ah spoke with utmost care, ensuring the child wouldn’t be overwhelmed. “Yes, she went to the sky.” “Can’t I go too?” The child’s words pierced her heart. Sang Ah gently caressed the child’s head. “They would wish for you to live long and happily before joining them.” Out of her mouth came words she once heard from her lost half, words that she herself couldn’t fully embody, but she could at least mimic the comfort they offered. The child burst into tears, and without a word, Sang Ah continued to stroke the little one's head. It was a decision she reached after much thought, but the warmth of the child’s presence reassured her it was the right one. ——— “The chieftain sent a letter.” The next day, what Moyong Sang Ah encountered was not the Jurchen army, but a lone messenger on a swift horse. “Read it.” “I, Tursan, regret what happened. Even as a chieftain, one cannot control all clans.” “He’s stepping back.” It was a reckless action, not an order. The chieftain’s letter showed a more submissive tone compared to the first message they had sent, indicating a desire to avoid conflict. “I do not wish for a rift to be formed due to misunderstandings beyond repair. Let us cool our tempers and meet next when the horses have fattened. Until then, we will not touch your clan.” “The barbarians are tucking their tails and running!” Some members of the Spear Brigade felt triumphant the moment they finished hearing the letter. However, the expressions of the officers remained serious. “Leader of the Spear Brigade.” Moyong Sang Ah called upon the Spear Brigade leader to explain to the younger members, whose exuberance betrayed their inexperience. “The phrase about waiting until the horses have fattened may mean several months, but it’s also a veiled threat of preparing for war.” The season when the sky is high and the horses grow fat. To the settled people, it’s merely a term for autumn, but for those who live among the nomads, it signified the dreadful time of raids by these foreigners. “…….” “Assign protection to the research team and ensure they can reach us if attacked.” The letter was layered with meaning. Sang Ah ordered sufficient defensive measures. “Yes, understood.” “My lord, why not eradicate the bothersome Jurchens altogether?” A young member of the Spear Brigade knelt sincerely, as if giving earnest advice. “Will you kill every Jurchen each time we launch an expedition?” While it might have been sensible, the suggestion was naive. “…….” “Only the Spear Brigade leader should stay. The rest are dismissed.” “Yes, ma'am!” “Heh…” Once the members left, Sang Ah unconsciously let out a small sigh. “Among those living in Liaodong, isn’t there anyone whose family hasn't been hurt by the barbarians?” “I have grown the size of the Spear Brigade, and now it’s a matter of its substance.” Sang Ah nodded, acknowledging her frustration at the Spear Brigade leader’s observation. Originally, the Spear Brigade was merely a guard to protect Sang Ah. She needed to form a force within the Moyong family. Deciding that the Spear Brigade would be her only ally, she used her wealth and connections to expand its size until it represented the family’s prowess. Yet, the swift expansion naturally led to complications. The hatred towards the other tribes was particularly pronounced. To the people of the Central Plains, these tribes were merely objects of disdain, but in Liaodong Fortress, they were a real threat. Such animosity was inevitable. “At least with your notice, they don’t openly call the Joseon people barbarians, do they?” The leader of the Spear Brigade offered a wry smile, understanding the sentiment, and attempted to console his lord. "Once, a member of the Spear Brigade misspoke before me and trembled in fear." “Ha ha! He said he thought he was going to die just from the look in your eyes. He begged to be sent to the frontlines to avoid your gaze. Was that true?” “That might have happened.” A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Moyong Sang Ah's lips. "In the end, everything depends on you, my lord." The leader of the Spear Brigade said seriously, observing her expression. “What do you mean?” “You need to reclaim the Moyong family and shape it as you see fit, my lady, no, my lord.” Because the tyrant of Liaodong has that kind of power. “... Since we've ventured out, let's visit other research groups as well. Prepare for departure.” After pondering the leader's words for a moment, Moyong Sang Ah announced their next destination. —— “There’s apparently no guest room as comfortable as this inn. We’ll stay in the adjoining inn, so please rest well.” On the return journey, having visited all three survey teams in Seongmuseo, Moyong Sang Ah considered declining the offer of better accommodations but held her tongue. “Make sure everyone drinks in moderation.” The Spear Brigade had been traveling for days, enduring dust and discomfort without proper rest. Their eyes lit up with anticipation at the thought of finally staying at an inn after seven days on the road. To boost morale, Moyong Sang Ah decided to allow a small indulgence. “Ha ha ha! Understood.” “Thank you! We’ll ensure the protection goes smoothly!” After a firm warning against overindulgence, Moyong Sang Ah retreated to her quarters. ---- In the dead of night, Moyong Sang Ah awoke. Exhausted from the long journey, sleep eluded her. Despite being a luxury guest room, the walls were thin. “Uhh…” Sighs emanated from the adjacent room—was it a fellow traveler suffering from muscle pain? The low moans, ambiguous in gender, seeped into Sang Ah's ears, denying her rest. Instead, she sat on the bed, idly running her fingers over the ring on her left hand. “They'd want you to live happily and come late.” Though she had spoken those words to comfort a child, the irony of having said them herself stung, triggering a self-deprecating smile. How could an unworthy woman desire a long life? All she had left was the solemn duty given to her by her departed love. To earn a chance to meet them once more, face to face. Sang Ah kept fiddling with the ring on her finger. It was a ring left as proof by her vanished partner. Crafted from Jangbaek silver, it was designed to detect malicious energy, a keepsake to remember her spouse by, even in their absence... ‘Why is the ring reacting?’ The ring emitted a pulse. It was asserting itself against an encroaching energy, clearly indicating an imminent presence. In the spacious, solitary room. If the Jangbaek silver was alerting her, there could only be one reason. ‘An assassin!’ Sang Ah swiftly swung her sword towards the direction the ring signaled. “Ugh!” The assassin, caught off guard by the unexpected defense, clutched his wound and retreated. ‘When did they get in?’ There was no time to ponder. The ring’s reaction continued. One, two, three. Three within the room. Their locations were unknown. These were professional assassins. Without hesitation, Sang Ah launched herself through the door. ‘When did they get to the guards?’ Outside the door, two members of the Spear Brigade lay dead. Calmly, Sang Ah descended to the inn's first floor. It was deserted—no innkeeper, no attendant. She moved to exit the inn, but her path was blocked by visitors in dark robes. “You spider wench. You won’t escape us.” Ten assailants now surrounded Moyong Sang Ah. “Was it my brother who sent you?” She had been wondering why things had been quiet lately. Maga. Assassin. There was only one who would use such filthy tactics. Sang Ah thought of Moyong Bi, who colluded with the demonic cult to poison her father. “……” No answer came. A silence as if no one were around. It was like standing in a desolate house. Had the inn itself been a trap? The ten black-cloaked figures were inching closer to cut off Sang Ah's escape. Could she take them all on? Sang Ah tightened her grip on her sword. That was when— “I saw the poison in the food. Thought they were mere bandits, but seems their aim was elsewhere.” With a loud crash, someone burst through the adjoining room where Sang Ah was staying. “Who are you?” Both Sang Ah and the assassins were equally taken aback. ——— Many coincidences exist in the world. A man casually passing along a precious ring alerts a woman to danger. “A disciple of the Wudang Sect.” It also brought a Daoist out into the world, tired of its injustices after reading a book lamenting the lack of righteousness. “A successor of the Bagua Sword Technique.” Meeting a man, the Daoist developed a steadfast spirit of chivalry and extended a hand to aid a woman he never met. “I am Cheong Woon.” Fate. A man's life saving yet another woman wasn't a mere coincidence but an unavoidable destiny intertwined with theirs.