The Rule of Might
Whoosh!
A staggering pressure of internal energy erupted from Namgung Myeongcheon. It was far beyond what Namgung Yun’s current body could easily bear, yet not a single ripple disturbed Yun's placid expression. Spurred to greater fury by that blatant lack of respect, Myeongcheon was just about to dial up the pressure when a thunderous command cut him short.
“Enough!”
Namgung Jeongcheon’s voice boomed through the chamber, rattling the rafters. A heavy, suffocating wave of profound qi rolled off the Family Head, snuffing out Myeongcheon's surging aura in an instant.
As expected of the Head of the Namgung Clan, Yun thought, nodding inwardly. In the span of a single breath, Jeongcheon had commandeered the entire atmosphere of the room.
“Both of you, calm yourselves.”
“I was never agitated in the first place,” Yun replied evenly. “It’s only Uncle who needs to restrain his—”
“Hold your tongue.”
The rebuke carried an unyielding edge that brooked no further insolence. Yun obediently closed his mouth.
“Myeongcheon. The same applies to you.”
“Brother, please!”
“I said that is enough.”
“……”
Having thoroughly silenced his younger brother, Namgung Jeongcheon turned his piercing gaze upon Yun.
“So. You claim it was no accident?”
“As I said, it was merely a spar.”
“Very well. That is how the matter will be settled.”
Myeongcheon’s eyes bulged with outrage, but the Family Head did not spare him a second glance. From the very beginning, Jeongcheon had harbored no intention of blowing the incident out of proportion. In truth, his view of the matter hardly differed from Yun’s own assessment.
He had summoned the boy for only one reason.
“Word has reached me that you broke through into the First-rate realm.”
“I did.”
“Show me.”
Without hesitation, Yun drew his blade. Along the edge of the steel, a razor-thin filament of qi condensed, vibrating with razor-sharp brilliance.
“Sword Thread!”
“It’s real!”
The lingering skepticism held by the elders scattered like dust before the wind.
“Did you stumble upon some serendipitous encounter?” Jeongcheon asked, his voice steady yet searching.
“Where would I find the time for that? I haven't stepped foot beyond the estate gates.”
To acquire a hidden manual or gain the patronage of a reclusive master, one had to tumble down a sheer precipice or flee for their life from vicious beasts. Nothing of the sort had transpired.
“Then how?”
“It’s simple. I’m a genius.”
“……”
Jeongcheon scrutinized the youth, probing for any hint of deceit. Yun squared his shoulders and met the clan head's gaze head-on, unflinching and unashamed beneath the open sky.
“…I see,” Jeongcheon conceded quietly. “You shall be bestowed with a new martial art.”
“So I’ve heard.” It was the very condition promised when he defeated Namgung Geol.
“An art of higher standing. Now that you have stepped into the First-rate realm at your age, your cultivation must be matched by a technique worthy of your caliber.”
“Oh? Are you planning to grant me the Heavenly Lightning Sovereign Divine Art, or perhaps the Sovereign Sword Form?”
“I am considering it.”
“……!”
Even Yun was caught off guard. Those two arts were the crown jewels of the clan, reserved exclusively for the Family Head and his closest inner circle. Yet the patriarch was actually weighing the possibility of handing them over?
It means my standing within the clan has skyrocketed that much.
Still, judging by the sour, disapproving scowls on the surrounding elders, he doubted it would come so easily.
“Even if it is not one of those two,” Jeongcheon continued, “you will receive a technique of exceptional pedigree. Diligently refine yourself and strive toward ever higher realms. That alone is the sacred duty of a martial artist. Never again let me see the pitiful, spineless attitude you displayed in the past.”
With that, Jeongcheon gave a subtle tilt of his chin toward the door—an unmistakable dismissal.
Yun, however, had not yet achieved what he had come here to do.
“Before I take my leave, there is something I must ask.”
“Speak.”
“Not long ago, you barred me from using the Medical Pavilion.”
“I did.”
“I was told that tending to me was deemed a waste of resources.”
“It was. Our clan has no medicine to squander on a cowardly weakling.”
“So if one is weak, they are not even considered kin?”
“The Namgung Clan is a martial faction,” Jeongcheon declared with unyielding severity. “Every member of this house bears the absolute duty to grow strong. And the Jianghu is a world where the strong take all.”
“Is that why you stood by and did nothing while Namgung In tormented me? Simply because he was the stronger one?”
“Precisely.”
Not a shred of hesitation wavered in Jeongcheon’s tone. It was a conviction rooted deep within his very bones.
“And are such words fit to come from the Namgung Clan, a pillar of the Righteous sects?”
“If you intend to babble about empty notions like chivalry, save your breath. Such childish delusions hold no sway in this house, nor in the broader martial world.”
Yun let out an exaggerated, theatrical sigh right to their faces.
“Then this place is even worse than the Demonic Cult.”
“What did you say?!”
“Insolent whelp!”
“How dare you flap your lips so recklessly!”
The elders exploded in rage before Jeongcheon could even react. The patriarch's own brows furrowed into a sharp scowl, his displeasure palpable.
“Silence!”
Jeongcheon’s roar smothered the uproar, though the venomous glares directed at Yun did not diminish in the slightest.
“A sliver of progress has made you intolerable,” Jeongcheon said coldly. “Do not forget that not a single person in this hall is weaker than you.”
“Yet you cannot deny the truth of my words.”
“Prattle all you like. No one listens to the bark of the weak.”
Still clinging to your precious Respect for the Strong until your dying breath, are you?
Yun found it laughable beyond measure. These hypocrites of the Righteous sects, always puffing their chests out over age and seniority—how dare they lecture me on the law of the jungle?
“Let me ask you this,” Yun said clearly. “Does the Namgung Clan presently abide by Respect for the Strong?”
“It does.”
“And is that because you, the Family Head, decided it should be so?”
“It is.”
“And you had the authority to establish that law solely because you are the strongest in this clan?”
“That is also true.”
“In that case…” Yun looked directly into Jeongcheon’s unblinking eyes and smiled faintly. “…if I become stronger than you, it means I can overhaul this entire clan however I see fit.”
“……!”
“……!”
Stunned silence descended over the great hall like a lead weight. Amid the breathless stillness, Namgung Jeongcheon stared at the boy as if taking his measure anew.
“Do you truly believe you can achieve that?”
“It won’t take long.”
Leaving those words behind, Namgung Yun turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
“T-That… that insolent little bastard!”
Namgung Myeongcheon, who had been rendered utterly speechless by the youth's audacity, finally snapped to his senses and shook a trembling finger at the vacant doorway.
“Family Head! Are you really going to let him walk away after that?!”
“And if I do not?”
“He must be disciplined! If we leave that wretch unchecked, the very order of our clan will crumble!”
The surrounding elders, however, did not seem entirely inclined to agree.
“He was undeniably arrogant, but…”
“To reach the First-rate realm at his tender age… that talent is undeniably the genuine article.”
“And he skipped the Second-rate realm entirely in a single bound.”
“A rare prodigy, even across the wider Jianghu.”
“To think I would live to see the day Yun manifests Sword Thread with my own eyes…”
If that brilliant talent were to fully bloom, the prestige and power it would bring to the Namgung Clan would be immeasurable. Viewed through that lens, the boy's earlier impudence began to look less like rebellion and more like the fierce pride of an authentic genius.
Myeongcheon felt his chest tighten with suffocating frustration as the room slipped from his grasp.
“Does it not strike you as suspicious that he grew so powerful so suddenly? Even his temperament is the complete opposite of what it used to be!”
“Hmm…”
“That is true, but…”
“As the boy noted, he has never stepped beyond our gates,” another elder pointed out. “Where could he possibly have come across demonic sorcery or unorthodox methods?”
Cornered by their logic, Myeongcheon scrambled for words. “He might have simply lucked into a fleeting epiphany! There is no guarantee such rapid progress will continue—”
“Myeongcheon.”
“Y-Yes, Brother!”
Myeongcheon bowed his head instinctively. A faint chill in Jeongcheon’s voice sent a bead of cold sweat trickling down his neck.
“When In tormented Yun, I said nothing because I believed adversity would temper him for the clan’s benefit. Do not allow your personal grievances to taint your judgment.”
“These are not personal grievances, I only—”
“I told you to cease.”
“…Understood.” He had no choice but to swallow his protests.
Once the hall emptied and silence reclaimed the room, Namgung Jeongcheon remained seated, lost in contemplation. The boy’s parting words echoed relentlessly in his thoughts.
‘If I become stronger than you, it means I can overhaul this entire clan however I see fit.’
“Hah…”
The austere, ironclad composure of his face fractured, and a dry chuckle slipped from his lips. The son who had once shrunk away, terrified to meet his father’s eyes, had stood tall today and boldly declared his ambition.
Could the strange warmth stirring in his chest be a remnant of paternal affection, an indulgence he thought he had long discarded for the preservation of the bloodline?
Very well. Grow strong, then. If you can truly surpass me and stand as the undisputed apex of this house, who could ever deny your will?
By sunrise tomorrow, he would once again don the mantle of the ruthless, calculating patriarch who traded blood and tears for the clan’s prosperity. But for tonight—just for this single evening—Namgung Jeongcheon allowed himself to feel the quiet joy of a father.
I got the answer I needed.
Yun had sought an audience with the Family Head for three specific reasons.
The first had been simple curiosity: to see the face of the man who had reduced the illustrious Namgung Clan to this pathetic state. Even if the rot had set in during the previous generation, it changed nothing. The clan members clearly revered their patriarch rather than sidelining him, which meant the current head was not an empty puppet swayed by scheming elders. He genuinely shared the exact same twisted mindset.
The memories Yun had inherited confirmed as much. He had wanted to lay eyes on the man responsible for derailing his grand scheme to master chivalry and righteousness.
The second reason was practical verification.
If the clan truly lived by the law of Respect for the Strong, Yun needed to confirm whether claiming the title of the clan's mightiest warrior would guarantee him the seat of Family Head. In the Righteous sects, unlike the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, raw power alone rarely secured leadership. Factions balanced lineage, generational rank, and public reputation in complex equations.
Even if I become the strongest, there was no inherent promise they would hand over the clan.
Yet the Family Head had confirmed it directly, and the assembled elders had not dared to refute it. That made the path remarkably straightforward: all he had to do was become the strongest martial artist in the Namgung Clan.
And for Namgung Yun, that would be as easy as breathing.
He would ascend to the summit of the clan, claim the patriarch's seat, and restore this house to its true heritage. Not as a den of glorified thugs preying on the weak, but as a legendary pillar of the Righteous path, overflowing with chivalry and justice.
Only then can this environment serve as the crucible for me to master true righteousness.
That brought him to the third reason: provoking the head and elders to gauge the true depth of their sickness. He needed to know whether their devotion to raw power was an incurable disease.
This was not his first attempt at cultivating virtue within a martial order. In his past life, he had attempted that very same madness inside the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult itself.
I was desperate back then. I couldn't reach the next realm no matter what I tried.
If he had lacked any clues whatsoever, he might have made his peace with it. But having caught a distinct thread of the transcendent path without being able to unravel it had driven him half-mad. A few years after grasping that elusive clue, he had decreed that the cultists under his rule should embrace righteousness and chivalry. His rationale was simple: if those around him lived by such ideals, observing them might spark the epiphany he so desperately needed.
And it was a catastrophic failure.
He could still recall the looks on their faces when he first proclaimed the decree. Disbelief, wondering if their ears had deceived them. Utter confusion over whether their invincible leader was playing a cruel joke. And finally, creeping terror—the horrifying realization that their supreme sovereign, the greatest martial artist under heaven, had finally lost his mind.
Curiously enough, the cultists had shown none of the expected rage or disgust at being forced to act righteously. Naturally, asking hardened demonic practitioners to upend their entire way of life should have ignited open rebellion. That they did not rebel meant only one thing: they never considered the order real. They had treated it as the raving delusion of a madman rather than an authentic command.
‘Well, isn't that only natural, Sire?’
That had been the Mad Demon’s candid reaction when Yun had grumbled to him about it back then. Of course, the moment the words left the man’s mouth, he had blanched in terror and slammed his forehead into the dirt.
Even so, the Heavenly Demon had not abandoned his pursuit over a minor setback. He had fully anticipated friction. While he hadn't expected them to treat his solemn directive as lunacy, he was never a man to yield once his mind was made up.