The Grand Magus In Murim

Chapter 12: Shadows of the Iron Gale

Patriarch Zhao paced back and forth across the main floor of his private study, his boots clicking sharply against the polished stone. His face was flushed with a mixture of impotent rage and growing desperation. On the heavy mahogany table before him sat a pathetic array of broken stone fragments, puddles of congealed animal fat, and twisted metal tools. It was a chaotic mess that served as the final resting place for three of the Ling family's Luminous Lamps.

He gestured wildly at the clutter and shouted at the man trembling nearby. The master blacksmith of Qinghe City, a man renowned for his ability to craft weapons that could shear through leather armor, looked as though he wanted to disappear into the floorboards.

"I paid you a fortune to replicate this," Zhao spat, his voice trembling with anger. "You claimed to be the best. You claimed that no secret could remain hidden from your hammer and tongs."

The blacksmith bowed so low that his forehead nearly touched the ground. "My Lord, I have tried everything. We examined the engravings under the highest quality magnifying lenses. We used the finest chisels. We even sourced luminous stones from the southern mountain range, which are supposed to be the brightest rocks in the region. We followed every line, every curve, and every stroke of the carving exactly as they appear on the original. But when we apply the animal fat, the stone stays cold and dark. It is just a rock with grease on it."

Zhao slammed his fist onto the table, causing the stone fragments to jump. He picked up a jagged piece of gray rock and hurled it at the wall. "It was a lie. The whole thing was a lie fabricated by that sickly young master. Yet, the lamps sold by the Ling family burned with a steady, ethereal light that could illuminate an entire room without a flicker or a drop of smoke. The nobles were buying them by the dozen. The Ling Merchant House was swimming in silver, while the Zhao family trade was drying up."

It was then that the heavy oak doors of the study creaked open. A servant rushed in, his face pale and his breathing ragged. He did not even wait to be acknowledged before speaking.

"Patriarch," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "A guest has arrived. He... he came through the main gate without permission, and the guards were unable to stop him."

Before Zhao could bark an order, a figure walked past the servant and into the center of the room. The intruder was an old man, perhaps in his late sixties, with a long, greying beard that reached his chest. He wore robes of dark iron-gray, and despite his age, his steps were firm and heavy, each footfall seeming to vibrate through the floor. He moved with the predatory grace of a seasoned predator.

Master Ma, who had been standing in the corner of the study trying to remain unnoticed, suddenly gasped. His face drained of all color, and he dropped to his knees as if he had been struck by an invisible hammer.

"Elder Han," Master Ma choked out, his voice barely a whisper of pure terror.

Patriarch Zhao stood frozen. He did not know this man, but the way Master Ma reacted told him everything he needed to know. This was a man of status and immense power from the Iron Gale Sect. Zhao quickly smoothed his robes and adopted his most respectful posture, bowing deeply.

"My honored guest, I am Zhao, the patriarch of this house. Please, allow me to escort you to the seat of honor."

The man named Elder Han waved a hand dismissively and walked toward the center of the room, taking the primary seat. His eyes were like cold steel, sweeping over the pathetic pile of junk on the table with visible disdain.

"I am here because of the reports from my disciple," Elder Han said, his voice sounding like grinding rocks. "Ma mentioned a situation involving the Ling family. He spoke of an unseen power, a wall of energy that blocked his qi. I find that difficult to believe."

Ma, still kneeling, looked up frantically. "Elder, I swear on my life! The pressure was real. It was not a technique I have ever encountered. It was like standing beneath a mountain. The young master of the Ling family sat there as if nothing was happening while my own power was shredded to nothing."

Elder Han frowned, his thick brows drawing together. He looked at Patriarch Zhao. "And you are struggling against this merchant family?"

Zhao swallowed hard. "They have released a device called the Luminous Lamp. It has gained them the favor of every noble in the city. We cannot replicate it, and our trade routes are being strangled by their new influence."

Elder Han leaned back, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "A hidden expert and a source of vast wealth. It seems the Ling family has found a treasure, or perhaps they have stumbled upon a secret that does not belong to them."

"What do you suggest, Elder?" Zhao asked.

"If we cannot replicate their success, we simply ensure their success ends," Han replied coolly. "You are trying to fight them in the markets, where they are clever. You should be fighting them on the roads. If their goods cannot reach the city, their influence will wither. We will sabotage their next major delivery. My disciples will handle the guards, and you will ensure that not a single lamp reaches the market. Then, we will see if this hidden expert cares enough to step out of the shadows."

Patriarch Zhao’s eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction. It was a simple, brutal plan. The Ling family would find that no amount of light could save them from the coming darkness.