Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Unknown Identity (1)
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Anhui Province marketplace. A rundown inn.
A warrior with his bamboo hat pulled low over his face ordered a cup of baekhaju at the bar and was knocking it back with relish.
Of course, that was me. There was no need to wander around disguised as an old man anymore, so I'd released the transformation and returned to my original appearance. The sharp tang on the tip of my tongue felt sweeter than usual today for some reason.
"Krr..."
It burned. Sky Cleaver.
In the game, the effect showed a vertical line slashing across the screen from the center of the monitor, but seeing it with my own two eyes in reality? That terrifying sword energy stretching all the way to the heavens—its sheer power was overwhelming.
All the effort I'd put in just to see that one thing? Not a single bit of it felt wasted. How could any man hold back after being born to witness a sword parting the clouds?
I let out a sly chuckle that no one else would understand the reason for, rolling another sip of baekhaju around in my mouth at the bar.
In wuxia novels, this combo—bar snacks and baekhaju—seemed to show up more often than the heroines themselves. A classic rule of thumb. I'd always wanted to try it if I ever fell into one of these worlds.
To be honest, it wasn't as tasty as I'd imagined. Well, you drink the cheap stuff for the thrill, not the flavor.
"Alright then, the Namgung martial assembly should go smoothly to Namgung Serin."
Probably.
Even if she was wearing the prayer beads I'd given her properly, there was no way she'd use them in a public martial assembly.
Using the Diamond Buddha's Divine Armor in the Namgung martial assembly? It'd be like showing up to a boxing match in full plate armor by yourself and claiming victory because no damage got through.
Since Namgung Serin's abilities were just a cut above Dang Ha-eun's, barring any variables, things would unfold exactly as I'd planned.
"An east wind is blowing. Haha."
Perfect. Everything was going according to plan. I finished my meal and strode out of the inn with my head held high. I had a bit of time left, so I figured I'd go watch that Namgung martial assembly.
...What the hell is this?
*
The word "family head" carries two meanings.
One is as the master of the house, and the other is as the pillar.
That's right. The family head is the pillar of the house. If the pillar shakes, the entire house comes tumbling down.
That was why the sigh—mingled with confusion and awe—from the Namgung Family Lord's lips came only after everyone had left, when he was alone facing the Heaven-Splitting Infinite Sword.
"Hoo..."
Heaven-Splitting Infinite Sword.
One of the three divine swords housed in the Namgung Family, a legend of the martial world that vanished after the Great Righteous-Demonic War 170 years ago.
Its owner had been Namgung Mu, the world's greatest swordsman, known by the moniker Sword Immortal of Namgung. He was famed for marching alone to the Demon Palace, severing the Heavenly Demon's head, and returning. Whenever the greatest swordsman of past and present was debated, his name always came up—a true sword god.
Thus, the one who handed this sword to his daughter was either a descendant of Namgung Mu... or perhaps Namgung Mu himself.
'He's still watching over us.'
He could never forget.
When his daughter first brought the sword to him, teary-eyed, the family head felt as if lightning had struck inside his mind.
It was an old memory, but he remembered it clearly. Words from his father, now gone from this world.
'There are plenty of families with money, plenty with power, but great families are forged only by time.'
All those moments accumulated under the Namgung name becoming Namgung's strength once more—a story he'd heard as a child, too young to fully grasp.
The family head's gaze upon the Heaven-Splitting Infinite Sword was complicated.
The meaning behind giving that sword to Rin.
That heavy intent.
A swordsman called the Sword Immortal had passed his blade to the rising generation. That short sentence encapsulated perfectly what his father had said that day. Cycle. Connection. Blooming.
Rin would grow, accomplish countless feats with that sword.
And someday, pass it to another.
Under the Namgung name.
All of it, because it was Namgung.
"So, you want to roam as a wanderer knight."
He summoned his daughter to the family head's chamber and asked in a low voice. Her eyes, holding the sword, were very different from before.
"...There are many things I must do. I have to find the elder, and take revenge on the Demonic Cult."
"How could that be your burden alone? It's a karma laid upon all of Namgung."
"I'm sorry."
Her sky-blue eyes stared straight ahead. She felt remorse, but wouldn't bend her will.
Hoo. The family head let out a quiet sigh and smiled faintly. His hand gently stroked his daughter's head.
"In the past, whenever I saw you, I was always anxious. Watching you torn between your heart and the world around you, I worried over what to say."
As a warrior, she was unparalleled, but as a person, she had a precarious side. She knew obsessing over victory was wrong, yet reached for it anyway. And she couldn't understand that about herself.
"Rin."
"...Yes, Father."
"You look splendid. You've grown up."
But not anymore. In the blink of an eye, she'd grown into a woman who had chosen her path.
As her eyes welled up at those warm words, the family head rose from his seat, turning away abruptly.
"Go. To where you must."
Dull words, but she could easily imagine the agony behind them.
She stood, offering a respectful clasped-hands salute, fist over palm, bowing deeply.
The family head didn't look until the end. No, he couldn't. Instead, as a father who had lost a daughter and the lord of the Namgung Family, he said what he must. His Mount Tai-like back bid her a quiet farewell.
"The Namgung Family will always be at your back."
*
Ugh. My head. My head hurts.
Is this what it feels like for third-rate villains watching their perfect plans unravel step by step? I can't even grasp where or how it went wrong. I eased the burden of the Namgung martial assembly for them, and now the damn thing's canceled outright?
Does this make any sense?
Shouldn't she aggressively enter the assembly and crush everyone overwhelmingly instead?
For now, calm down.
Start reorganizing the plan from the beginning.
First off, I'd been steering things as close to the game's story as possible. Anything outside that, I didn't know.
For me, who believed killing the Heavenly Demon was the key to returning to Earth, there was no reason to stray from the main plot.
So I saved Dang Ha-eun.
With her alive, the Namgung martial assembly would proceed as scheduled, and a freed-from-heart-demon Namgung Serin would win it, I thought.
With their issues resolved, the two would grow on their own into the protagonists of the Great Righteous-Demonic War later on.
My initial big plan was to pass the time until then by saving people I needed to keep alive, one by one.
'Something's tangled up, and the plan's gone off the rails.'
The martial assembly not happening? Honestly, no big deal. But if the cancellation was due to Namgung Serin's unexpected heart demon flare-up, or some massive internal incident in the Namgung Family? That's a problem.
The Namgung Family weakening meant a problem for the entire righteous faction, and the ripple effects were unpredictable.
In my troubled mood, I took a sip from the gourd flask. My body, with its eight extraordinary meridians smoother than the Autobahn, didn't know intoxication. But drinking alcohol anyway somehow eased my worries a bit.
"Oh, look who it is."
That's when I ran into him. Anhui's pride. A star of the martial world. The Namgung Family's future, Namgung Haejin.
He seemed as mentally tangled as me, disguised as a passerby just like before, strolling the streets.
Recognizing me, he lit up and said,
"Great hero. A pleasure to meet again. That heroic spirit of yours is unmistakable."
His tone carried plenty of playful mischief. I grinned back and replied,
"The pleasure's mine. Today, you look like an emperor inspecting the common folk. That imperial bearing is less man and more dragon."
"My moniker is Sword Dragon, after all."
"I know."
We spewed nonsense to tease each other and burst into laughter. Namgung Haejin was full of pranks despite his dignified looks. His serious face spouting drivel made the conversation endlessly entertaining.
After a good while yakking away at a street corner, we headed to a proper tavern, claimed a table, and kept chatting.
Ninety percent was the same old joking around, but as men with worries, ten percent was pretending-not-to-but-actually venting real concerns.
And since we both knew that, our "joking" responses came out convincingly clever.
"If you can't tell where it went wrong, just let it go and take a break."
"Why?"
"After that, the problem will grow so big it'll be crystal clear what needs fixing."
"What a lucky solution. Even Zhuge Liang wouldn't have come up with that. As expected of Namgung. Well-deserved reputation."
"You're too kind."
Something like that.
By the time two bowls of soba noodles, three bottles of dokju, a plate of tangchori skewers, five dumplings, and plates of gyejangyuksa and gwapa yuk each had gone into our bellies, he cut straight to it without beating around the bush.
His little sister had been ambushed. By the Demonic Cult.
I'd just picked up my chopsticks to snag the last piece of meat but quietly set them down. Then I glanced around.
We were on a high floor of the tavern. Noisy, but tables spaced widely apart.
Listen closely, and you'd hear everything. Don't, and eavesdropping would be tough.
I didn't know what this young man thought of me.
But at least, he saw me as someone he could confide such a secret in.
Whether trusting my honor or my strength.
His keen insight had pierced something in me.
"I know."
And that was, without doubt, the right call.
"Listen carefully to what I say from now on. I'll teach you how to catch that rat before it scurries away."