Chapter 119: Sword With No Honor
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 119: Sword With No Honor
I moved with swift, determined steps, reaching my destination in no time at all.
The place was the guesthouse where Namgung Bi-ah was staying. Namgung Jin was likely there as well.
When I first heard the news from the Second Elder, my immediate thought was to head to Gu Sunmoon—the probable location of their discussion. Confronting Namgung Jin there would have drawn the most satisfying reaction from him.
But after careful consideration, I decided it was better to check on Namgung Bi-ah first.
The engagement talks had taken place before sunset, but now the moon was already high in the sky. I followed a path strewn with fallen leaves until I reached the guesthouse’s front gate.
Just as I was about to enter, a cold, stern voice stopped me.
“You may not enter.”
The speaker was a martial artist from the Namgung Clan. He stood with an air of rudeness, but I kept my tone level.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I do.”
“Then why are you stopping me?”
“By the lord’s order.”
“I sent word ahead of my visit,” I said, my patience thinning. I had dispatched a servant earlier to avoid barging in unannounced. “Did my servant not arrive?”
“He did.”
“Then what is the meaning of this?”
The man fell silent.
Oh? Is he ignoring me now? The disrespect pricked at me, but I held my temper. This was, after all, a guesthouse currently occupied by the Namgung Clan. Even if it stood on Gu land, I had no intention of forcing my way in if they were unwilling to receive visitors.
Under different circumstances, I might have raised hell. But with a noble clan like the Namgung, it was wiser to avoid a scene over something so trivial.
Still, one thing bothered me.
“You said my servant came,” I pressed. “What happened to him?”
“…We turned him away, on the lord’s orders.”
“Is that why you’re blocking me now? Then answer me this—”
As I tried to step past him, the martial artist placed a firm hand on my shoulder. There was no hesitation in his touch.
I met his eyes, my voice dropping. “Where is my servant?”
A slight tremor ran through the man’s hand. My servant should have returned to inform me of the rejection. But he never came back—not as evening fell, and not even now, deep into the night.
It was possible he had simply forgotten to report. If so, a stern reprimand would suffice.
But something feels wrong.
The martial artist hesitated before answering. “…We don’t know.”
“Hey.”
He flinched as my voice sharpened.
I let the forced smile vanish from my face. “If you’re going to lie, at least don’t tremble. Do you take me for a fool?”
With a roar, my Qi erupted from my body like a storm. The man reached for his sword, but at this distance, it was already too late.
—Crack—!
The hand gripping my shoulder twisted at an unnatural angle. Before he could cry out, I drove a Qi-infused fist into his ribs. The impact was heavy, brutal—but I struck his chin before a scream could escape his lips.
—Thud.
He collapsed, limp and pathetic. I hoisted his unconscious body over my shoulder and tossed it past the gate.
At the display of violence, other guards emerged, swords drawn.
I sharpened my senses, scanning the area. None of them had surpassed the wall—none had reached the Peak realm.
Strange. I was certain the Lightning Dragon’s escort included martial artists who had broken through. Yet here, not a single guard had reached that level.
Is this carelessness? Or arrogance?
Either way, it suits him perfectly.
They might be concealing their strength, but my attention was pulled elsewhere. Hearing the commotion, Namgung Bi-ah rushed out from the guesthouse.
But she wasn’t who I was looking for.
My Qi had already flooded the building, and I sensed what I sought—a presence curled in the corner of a room.
Suppressing the storm inside me, I moved toward it. The Namgung martial artists shouted, but their words didn’t register. Hands reached out to block me, but when I shattered the jaw of the first man who tried, a tense silence fell.
No one else interfered as I reached the room and slid the door open.
“Oough… ogh…”
Inside lay a servant.
Her face was swollen beyond recognition. Her body was broken, barely able to move. She tried to speak, but the words were mangled by pain.
Yet the tears streaming from her eyes told me everything.
It was the servant I had sent to the Namgung compound earlier that day.
I didn’t even know her name. Only that she was one of mine—the one who often came to inform me when meals were ready. Every time I thanked her, she would flinch and offer an awkward smile.
We were never close. I doubt she thought much of me.
But seeing one of my people in this state… something inside me twisted.
“What do I do now?”
I cupped my face, hiding whatever expression I was making. I saw her lips quiver, trying to form words.
“Auyaahh…”
I couldn’t understand her. She wasn’t speaking to my mind, only struggling through broken sounds. But her emotion was clear—and it made me feel like filth.
“Seriously, what should I do?”
“Young Master Gu, this is—” one of the guards began, tone awkward.
I struck his mouth. The sound was sharp—Pow!—and teeth clattered to the floor. When he clutched his bleeding face, I twisted his wrist.
—Crack—
Bone jutted through skin. The other guards froze, then fell into battle stances, swords raised.
—Hwa…
Flames simmered around me, calm but rising.
I needed to stay controlled. I didn’t know this servant. Not her name, not her story. This shouldn’t enrage me so.
That’s what I told myself.
Otherwise, I would slaughter every last one of them.
“Wait—” Namgung Bi-ah started toward me.
“Don’t come closer.”
I held up a hand, my breath steaming with contained fury.
“If you approach me now, I may not be able to hold back.”
She froze, her eyes wide and trembling. She wanted to say something, but in the end, she stayed silent.
She likely knew nothing of this. If she had, it would never have happened.
This was my fault. My carelessness. I should have expected something like this.
I just hadn’t wanted to.
Damn it.
Heat swelled, flooding the guesthouse. The Gu Flame Wheel Art within me stirred, revolutions accelerating beyond my control. The flames roared, eager to break free.
Martial arts reflect the heart. The stronger the practitioner, the truer this becomes.
That’s why masters seek calm—a broad mind, a tranquil spirit. They overcome obstacles to find peace.
I hadn’t reached that level yet.
Maybe that’s why I was so furious.
“Hey.”
“…Yes?” Namgung Bi-ah replied softly.
“Take her to the infirmary.”
I had no choice but to ask her. I couldn’t leave the servant like this. Without hesitation, Namgung Bi-ah rushed forward, lifting the bloodied woman onto her back. Qi flared around her, and she sprinted away at full speed.
“Stop her! The Young Miss cannot leave the hou—”
The shouting guard choked off as annihilating flames engulfed the courtyard. The air grew thick, searing, difficult to breathe.
Through the rising heat, I spoke.
“I won’t ask why you did this. I already know the answer would be stupid.”
If I asked, their excuses would be predictable. The servant was rude. How dare she speak that way. We didn’t like her.
Or, It was the lord’s orders.
None of it mattered.
“P-Please calm down, Young Master Gu.”
“He’s right… This is all…”
“Then don’t ask me why I’m doing this, either.”
A ferocious smile stretched my lips. I didn’t want to smile, but I couldn’t help it—a habit from a life lived in fury.
“I’m only doing this for a reason as stupid as yours.”
As I finished speaking, flames swallowed the world—and the men standing before me.
* * *
The stench of burning flesh filled the air. When Namgung Jin stepped through the gate, even he was struck silent.
Dozens of martial artists—second-rate to first-rate, some nearing the Peak—lay broken and smoldering. He hadn’t brought his full escort, rushing here in haste, but these were still Namgung clansmen.
They were not weaklings to be crushed by a child.
“…What is the meaning of this?” Namgung Jin’s voice was low, dangerous.
The guards were unconscious, bodies twisted, bones shattered. Some injuries were beyond healing.
“You dare reduce my clansmen to this state, and now you speak of a bet?” he roared. “I acknowledge your talent, but you are reckless beyond reason. Do you have a death wish!”
Gu Yangcheon didn’t flinch. Instead, a faint smile touched his lips, fueling Namgung Jin’s anger.
The boy was small, immature—yet he had surpassed the wall and reached the Peak realm. Namgung Jin could sense it, even with the boy restraining his Qi.
It was unfair. That such talent belonged to the son of Gu Cheolun. That his own son was of similar age, yet…
Why is the world always against me?
That injustice angered him more than the sight of his clansmen bleeding on the ground.
“I never intended to be reckless,” Gu Yangcheon replied calmly. “But the world gives me no choice.”
—Tap. Tap.
He nudged an unconscious martial artist with his foot.
Namgung Jin’s frown deepened.
Something provoked this. This was not mindless violence. He almost wished it were—that would be simpler.
“Do you act this way because we stand on Gu land?” Namgung Jin demanded.
“Not at all. I am more respectful than you might think.”
The boy yielded no ground.
Does he not know who I am? With a dark smirk, Namgung Jin released his Qi.
The pressure was immense, domineering—the true aura of the King of Swords, not the shallow imitation of his juniors. This was the weight of a master who had reached the end of his path.
He poured it onto the boy. Any Peak realm practitioner should buckle within seconds, forced to their knees.
That was what Namgung Jin expected.
“…Impossible.”
But Gu Yangcheon stood firm, unaffected. Worse—he began to walk forward, step by steady step, as if the pressure were nothing.
He stopped directly before Namgung Jin and looked up.
“As I said before,” he began, voice utterly calm, “how about we make a bet?”
“You amuse me, boy. Just because you are engaged to my daughter, you think you can—”
“If I lose, I will give you my left arm.”
Namgung Jin’s words died in his throat. He stared, disbelieving.
“What did you say?”
“My arm. Don’t you want it?”
Namgung Jin laughed, a hollow sound. Talent aside, the boy was still a child. Naive.
“What would I do with your arm?”
Gu Yangcheon’s gaze was unwavering. “You need it. For your son’s future… Isn’t that why you came here?”
The mockery vanished from Namgung Jin’s face. He studied the boy anew.
He had been wrong. This was no ordinary child.
How much had he deduced? The words were pointed, deliberate.
“…You.”
“If an arm is too much, you may ask for something else.”
Namgung Jin nodded almost reflexively. Severing the arm of the Gu Clan’s heir—especially on their own land—was an act of war. Even if the boy offered it, the consequences would be dire.
—Crack.
Feeling manipulated, Namgung Jin bit out, “Speak. What is it you want?”
“Just one thing.”
Gu Yangcheon picked up a sword from the ground.
Why a sword? Before Namgung Jin could wonder, the boy continued.
“If I defeat you in a duel, I want you to formally relinquish your daughter to me.”
—Pssht!
Before the words fully left his mouth, something sharp grazed Gu Yangcheon’s cheek. Blood welled instantly—a sword slash from Namgung Jin, too fast to see.
“You mock me because I have been lenient,” Namgung Jin said, his voice dark and deep. Patience was wearing thin. “The only reason your head remains on your shoulders is the Gu blood in your veins. Do not test me further.”
Gu Yangcheon wiped the blood from his cheek. He hadn’t even seen the sword move.
The gap in our strength is vast, he thought. In a real duel, I stand no chance.
“Why are you angry?” he asked.
“You little…”
“Is it because of your daughter? Because I challenged you? Or… are you afraid?”
Gu Yangcheon raised the sword, pointing it at Namgung Jin. This was the first time he had faced the man directly—this arrogant lord whose head, in another life, he had seen in Namgung Bi-ah’s hands.
—Rumble.
Lightning Qi crackled around Namgung Jin. The density of a Fusion realm master’s energy made the air hard to breathe. Gu Yangcheon felt it fully for the first time.
“You challenge me to a sword duel?” Namgung Jin asked, voice like grinding stone.
“Yes. I am fairly skilled with a blade.”
Namgung Jin laughed again, a joyless, hollow sound. “It has been decades since I felt so insulted. By a boy who has not lived even a quarter of my years.”
“I gave you an excuse.”
“Silence. I am restraining myself from tearing out that impudent tongue.”
Restraining himself?
Why? He should have drawn his sword and ended this already. But Namgung Jin held back.
Not out of temperance—caution. Because of Gu Cheolun. Because this was Gu territory.
It didn’t matter. The boy had counted on exactly that.
A cold smile touched Namgung Jin’s lips. “Very well. I accept. Tearing your arm from your body and presenting it to your father may be the only satisfaction I get today.”
He made no mention of Namgung Bi-ah. Didn’t question the bet’s meaning. Either he believed defeat impossible, or he simply didn’t care about his daughter.
Gu Yangcheon suspected both.
“Your men are badly wounded,” Gu Yangcheon said, gesturing to the fallen guards. “Should we not tend to them first?”
It was ironic—the one who had wrought this damage now showed concern. Namgung Jin dismissed it.
“It won’t take long.”
Arrogant. Heartless. But as the Azure Heavenly Sword, his confidence was well-founded.
Gu Yangcheon had planned to provoke him, but it had been almost too easy.
Is his temper shorter than I thought?
[If I consider the way you talk, that Namgung fellow is practically a saint.]
…It’s not that bad, surely.
[Not that bad? I’m amazed your head is still attached! What were you thinking, taking it this far?]
A duel with the lord of the Namgung Clan. In Elder Shin’s eyes, it was impossible—even if Qi were forbidden. And Gu Yangcheon had chosen a sword. He had thrown away any slim chance he might have had.
[What are you planning—]
Elder Shin cut himself off. A suspicion dawned.
Gu Yangcheon wasn’t a swordsman. He had never once trained with a blade. His chances of winning were zero.
Unless someone else fought for him.
[…You little bastard.]
Yes.
[You set this up so that I would have to fight, didn’t you?]
Gu Yangcheon feigned innocence. What nonsense are you talking about?
[Right? Even I thought the question was—]
Of course you’ll fight for me. I don’t know how to use a sword.
[You really are a piece of work.]
Elder Shin could only curse, defeated by the boy’s sheer audacity.