The Words My Death Leaves Behind (3)

I stopped by the inn again the next day. I was curious—wondering if any new news might have come in. Was it because I still had lingering attachment to the position of Leader? Of course not.

I had already adapted to this new life, and I was content. In fact, I was living with more joy and energy than I ever had when I was the Leader.

I had resolved to live like this—to rebuild the Byeok Clan Sword Sect and continue honing my martial arts.

Still, when I thought of the Murim Alliance, there were faces that continued to surface in my mind.

People like Gal Saryang, Baek Pyo, and the loyal subordinates who had followed me with such devotion.

At the very least, until someone truly trustworthy took the seat of the next Leader, I knew I wouldn't be able to let it go completely.

Today as well, the talk of the inn revolved mostly around me. There were people who criticized me for political reasons, but not a single person spoke ill of me as a martial artist. When it came to martial arts, Chun Hwa-jin was always portrayed in a glorified light.

"I don't know about him as a Leader, but as a martial artist, Chun Hwa-jin was someone worthy of respect."

Everyone turned their gaze toward the elderly man who had spoken.

"I personally witnessed the Leader's fight," the old man added.

At that, the people all gathered around the old man. Even I found myself listening in.

"You all know about the battle between the Leader Chun and the Demon Fighter, don't you?"

"Of course. Didn't that story become the basis for a number of legends later?"

"That's right. But most of those stories are utter nonsense."

"How would you know that?"

"Because I was there at the time."

I couldn't help but smirk to myself. To put it bluntly, that old man was bluffing.

No one survived that battle. Not the Demon Fighter, nor any of his subordinates. Our side's martial artists were waiting at a distance, as I had ordered.

Could the old man have watched from afar?

Back then, I was at my peak — practically flying through the sky.

If he had been anywhere close enough to observe the fight, I would've sensed his presence.

"The Demon Fighter looked terrifying. He stood nine feet tall, and his fists were the size of a grown man's head. He was born for battle, I tell you. Absolutely insanely strong."

Nine feet tall with fists the size of heads?

I couldn't help but laugh.

The first time I saw the Demon Fighter, I was honestly shocked.

He was barely five feet tall, with a very small, slender build.

His appearance was refined — completely out of place with the idea of a fierce warrior.

You'd think someone called the Demon Fighter would wildly swing his fists around, but in truth, he fought using a single short blade.

That said, not everything the old man said was a lie.

One thing was absolutely true — he was terrifyingly strong.

At the time of our battle, he was the strongest opponent I had ever faced.

Of course, I met warriors even stronger after him — but he remains among the top five I've ever fought. I lost count of how many times I nearly died to that short dagger of his.

In fact, I was stabbed a few times. He truly deserved the name "Demon Fighter."

"Lord Cheon showed a skill that was nearly divine," the old man said.

"Even now, if I close my eyes, I can see that battle as if it were yesterday. Especially the final moment — that, I'll never forget. While dodging the vicious aura shooting from the Demon Fighter's fists, the Lord soared into the sky — like a blue dragon taking flight! Then, from above, he rained down dozens of sword auras like a storm. It was a sight so majestic… it left us all breathless!"

The vivid description left the tavern awestruck.

"I envy you! If I had seen that fight in person, I could die happy!"

"I would give anything to have seen that with my own eyes!"

"Oh! Sword God!"

…Thinking back on the day when I rolled around in the dirt with the Demon Fighter, barely managing to drive my sword into his heart, those grand tales felt embarrassingly exaggerated.

But… I'm still human. And hearing stories like that — I can't pretend I hated it.

Then, a man among the crowd, looking dissatisfied, finally spoke.

"What good is being the Sword God if that's true?"

"What's your problem now?"

"Haven't you heard the rumors?"

"What rumors?"

"The rumors that Cheon Hajin was involved in massive embezzlement."

"…Is that true?"

Everyone looked shocked. Of course, who could be more shocked than me?

I almost stood up right then and there, shouting, "Cut that nonsense!"

I hadn't pocketed a single coin for personal use.

"With martial arts that strong? Of course he did something shady."

Judging by the way he said it, it wasn't a rumor — just his own damn opinion.

As if to say: Wouldn't anyone?

Damn it. I wished someone would shut that fool up.

But instead, everyone around started nodding in agreement.

"Well, being the Lord of the Alliance…"

"Especially since Lord Cheon was the strongest of all the Alliance Leaders."

"He probably died before he could even spend all that money."

I could tolerate other slanders.

But embezzlement? Are you kidding me? No way, you bastards!

If I had decided to pocket money, then seriously…

No. Let's not go there.

"How much do you think he took? Ten million nyang? A hundred million?"

I couldn't help but sigh. I thought I had shared love with the martial world…

But I wonder if the martial world ever knew I loved it.

Just as I was sinking into that hopeless thought, a clear, elegant voice rang out.

"Do you have any proof?"

It was a voice I recognized.

Everyone — myself included — turned to look toward the source of the voice.

Amazingly, standing at the entrance of the tavern was Song Hwarin.

She was showing off her specialty — crushing all attention in the room and drawing every eye solely to herself. With her arrival, everyone's eyes widened.

Some recognized her immediately. But the man who had spread the rumor didn't know who she was. He just looked at her with a dumb expression that said, "Where did such a beautiful woman come from?"

"Do you have any proof that the Lord committed corruption?"

At her question, the man asked back,

"Are you perhaps acquainted with Lord Cheon?"

"No."

"Then what's your problem, young lady?"

"I'm telling you not to speak so carelessly about things you don't even know well."

She was calm, but carried an air of authority.

"I'll ask again. Do you have any evidence that the Lord engaged in embezzlement?"

"I just... heard a rumor, that's all."

"Spreading baseless rumors is a criminal act. If you're reported to the Murim Alliance, you could end up in prison."

The man flinched at her sharp words. The moment she mentioned prison, the matter was already settled.

"I'll apologize for speaking recklessly."

Without pursuing the matter further, Song Hwarin moved and sat down at an empty table.

"I'd like to place an order."

The server quickly ran over to her.

The drunkards who had been staring at her dispersed, worried that if they caught her attention, something unpleasant might happen to them.

Still, even as they left, they couldn't help but glance back once more.

Since I was sitting with my back turned to her, she hadn't realized I was there.

I was grateful to her. I'd felt so wronged, but it was like she had spoken on my behalf—and for that, I was truly thankful.

A little while later, her food arrived.

"I only ordered noodles, though?"

Along with the noodles she ordered, a meat dish had also been brought to her table.

The innkeeper chuckled and said,

"That's something I'm giving you as a bonus, just for you."

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

"I share the same thoughts as you, young lady. The late Lord was a truly great man. Thanks to him, many villains disappeared from the martial world. Because of that, life became much easier for people like us."

"Ah, I see. But there's a problem."

What she said next was something I never expected to hear.

"There must be a misunderstanding—I don't actually like the late Lord that much."

"Huh?"

The innkeeper's eyes widened in surprise. What kind of absurd statement was that?

I, too, stared at her in disbelief.

The innkeeper asked again,

"Then why did you speak up earlier?"

"I simply dislike people who speak recklessly about others."

Now that I thought about it, she never once said she liked or respected the Lord. And then she went even further.

"In fact, I absolutely hate the late Lord."

At that, I couldn't help but blurt out,

"Why?"

She turned her head toward me, clearly startled to realize I was there.

"How long have you been there?"

"Since earlier."

"Did you… follow me here?"

I shook the empty bottle in front of me.

"If I had known you were coming here, maybe I would've followed you."

She understood that I had been here first.

"I heard about the incident at the Yang pharmacy."

"Luckily, I was able to avoid the chaos."

"That's a relief."

With that, she turned her head away, ending the conversation.

I had no particular intention of continuing it either—but there was one thing I had to ask.

"Still... why do you hate the Lord?"

I was genuinely curious.

She simply shrugged her shoulders once and gave no reply.

Come on, why do you hate me that much?