A Distortion of Chivalry
In his past life, he had wielded the unassailable, absolute authority of the Cult Leader.
Moreover, he had been revered as the mightiest of all Heavenly Demons—the undisputed greatest martial artist in history. His word carried a weight that utterly eclipsed that of any predecessor. Whatever doubts lingered in their hearts, the cultists had obeyed his every decree.
The problem was that the Cult Leader himself had yet to grasp the true meaning of righteousness and chivalry, leaving him stumbling blindly in the dark. How could his followers have fared any better?
One fanatic, deciding that an act of chivalry required a wretched soul in need of salvation, smashed a random inn to splinters and beat the innkeeper half to death—only to generously offer compensation for the medical bills and rebuild the establishment with his own hands. The terrified proprietor naturally attempted to flee from this utter lunatic, but he was promptly caught, thrashed a few more times, and forced to watch with horror-stricken eyes as his tavern was reconstructed before him.
Another group fell into a bloody brawl over who had the honor of carrying out the Cult Leader's command first by assisting an injured traveler. Caught in the crossfire of their dispute, the wounded man was killed on the spot.
Then there was the zealot who, claiming he wished to learn about chivalry, picked blade fights with every orthodox martial artist he crossed paths with. His reasoning was impeccable in his own mind: he could not learn from someone weaker than himself, so he had to seek out those who were stronger.
Every single one of their actions defied common sense to an astounding degree.
Needless to say, when those reports reached his ears, he had clutched his throbbing head in profound misery.
Thus, his grand vision of forging a 'Heavenly Demon Divine Cult of Righteousness and Chivalry' had collapsed in utter ruin.
If the Namgung Clan were in a similar state of moral decay, then even if he were to rise to the position of Clan Leader, the outcome would mirror the tragedy of the Demonic Cult.
'Fortunately, they haven't sunk that deep.'
He had anticipated as much from their clumsy adherence to Respect for the Strong, but their obsession was not yet as absolute or twisted as the cult's. After all, had they not bristled with fury when compared to the Demonic Cult?
'Which means they can still be salvaged.'
The Namgung Clan had to be restored to a prestigious orthodox lineage grounded in genuine righteousness and chivalry.
For the sake of his own pursuit of a higher martial realm—and for the future of Namgung Yun.
This was the first time Namgung Yun had set foot outside the estate since awakening in this body.
The Namgung Clan was situated near Mount Cheonju in Anhui Province, placing it among the territories farthest removed from the Shiwan Dashan. Because of that vast distance, the Demonic Cult's invasion during the reign of the previous Heavenly Demon had never reached these lands.
'And yet, the Namgung Clan was among the fiercest adversaries we faced back then.'
Since their homeland was in no immediate danger of being engulfed in war, they could easily have held back their forces. Yet the swordsmen of Namgung had thrown themselves into every clash against the cult with unyielding resolve. Their conviction had been simple: if the Central Plains fell to the demonic forces, righteousness would be trampled into the dirt and chivalry would vanish from the world.
'And to think those very same people have fallen to this...!'
Glares directed toward the imposing main gate—built high and menacing as though designed to intimidate anyone who approached—did nothing to slow his stride as he stepped out onto the wide thoroughfare.
Though he had departed his private quarters, he had not yet cleared the clan's vast domain. He resided in the main family compound, which was encircled by rows of estates housing various branch families.
'Noble clans truly are massive.'
Unlike Buddhist or Daoist sects that housed only practicing martial artists, noble clans accommodated non-combatant relatives alongside their warriors. A sprawling footprint was only natural.
Following the lanes lined with tall stone walls for some time, he finally emerged into the commoner quarter.
Having spent the vast majority of his past life secluded within the Shiwan Dashan, his only ventures into the Central Plains had taken place during the demonic invasion. Consequently, he had rarely had occasion to observe the mundane flow of ordinary life.
To stir his slumbering memories of the world, he wandered through the bustling market streets.
'A remarkably prosperous town.'
Even to eyes unaccustomed to ordinary settlements, this district appeared far more vibrant than most. Anhui Province was situated in the affluent southern region of Jiangnan, which likely accounted for the wealth on display.
Yet, it was not long before Namgung Yun noticed a peculiar pattern.
Whenever his gaze met that of a passerby, they hurriedly scrambled to look away.
It was natural for common folk to fear an armed warrior robed for battle, but even accounting for that, their terror was excessive.
Furthermore, he was clad in the distinctive azure martial robes of the Namgung Clan. Given that the clan's ancestral seat lay right beside this town, there was no chance the townsfolk failed to recognize his heritage.
'In other words... these people are terrified of the Namgung Clan.'
It was not as though he lacked an explanation. If anything, he had far too many. Over the past few days, he had experienced the clan's degradation firsthand until he was thoroughly sickened by it.
'So that's why Seo Won-gil reacted so oddly when he first saw me.'
When Yun had offered him a polite greeting, the physician had stared in wide-eyed astonishment. Yun had assumed the original Namgung Yun had simply been a notorious scoundrel, but viewing the situation in a broader light, the fault did not lie with one delinquent youth.
'The entire clan is the problem.'
Passing by the cowering commoners with brisk strides, he headed straight for his destination.
'Here it is.'
Namgung Yun came to a halt before a gate bearing a wooden plaque that read: Won'am Clinic.
It appeared to enjoy a modest reputation, judging by the bustling crowd within the courtyard. Even so, it was hardly the sort of renowned establishment where one would expect to find a divine physician worthy of treating a high-born young master of the Namgung Clan.
'They would never have assigned a master physician to someone like the old Namgung Yun anyway.'
They had clearly plucked a local practitioner of modest renown and foisted the task upon him.
Stepping across the threshold, Yun called out to a servant hurrying past with an armful of supplies.
"Who... who goes there?"
The servant began in an irritated tone, clearly swamped with duties, but the instant his gaze fell upon the azure robes and the long sword at Yun's hip, his demeanor shifted to fawning deference.
"I am Namgung Yun. I have come to see Physician Seo Won-gil."
"Ah! The master is examining a patient at this moment. I shall inform him at once, so could you please wait just a brief moment?"
"There is no need for that. I will wait my turn, so call me when it arrives."
Ignoring the servant's flabbergasted expression, Yun glanced around the open grounds.
"May I inspect the clinic while I wait?"
"Of course, Young Master! By all means!"
Leaving the flustered servant behind, Namgung Yun strolled casually through the clinic grounds.
Because the compound was modest in scale, it took little time to explore every accessible corner.
'Nothing seems out of place.'
Patients with pained expressions, servants bustling between rooms, low groans of agony, and the faint, bitter fragrance of simmering herbs.
By all appearances, it was an entirely ordinary clinic. There was not the faintest hint of Yoma's insidious presence to be found.
"Young Master!"
After a reasonable interval, the servant returned, bowing repeatedly.
"The physician has requested that I escort you inside."
It was time to face the man himself.
"Welcome, Young Master. Forgive me for keeping you waiting."
Seo Won-gil offered a deep, respectful bow. In the past, Yun might have dismissed it as standard courtesy shown to a member of a prominent orthodox family. Now that he understood the local sentiment toward the clan, however, this exaggerated deference left a distinctly foul taste in his mouth.
"I arrived unannounced without an appointment, so there is no reason for you to apologize."
"Your gracious words honor me."
The two took their seats across from one another.
"I never imagined you would grace such a humble establishment in person."
"Haha, thanks to your care, my recovery progressed smoothly, so I wished to convey my gratitude in person."
"You flatter me, Young Master. I was merely performing my duty for the compensation I received. But... it appears you have sustained new injuries?"
"Such is the nature of a martial artist. Carving scars during practice and snapping bones in duels are everyday affairs. Walking away with mere bruises is a stroke of good fortune."
"I see."
Seo Won-gil did not pry further.
"Since you have taken the trouble to visit, allow me to attend to you once more. Have you taken all the medicine I previously provided?"
"Naturally. I chewed and swallowed every dose precisely at the appointed hours."
"That is a relief. Even if outward symptoms subside, hidden damage may still linger deep within the body. My prescription also serves to invigorate vital qi, so please be sure to finish every dose I provide."
"Do not fret. As luck would have it, I've managed to collect fresh bruises, so I won't be discontinuing the medicine anytime soon."
"Ah... quite so."
His eyes darting awkwardly, as if unsure how to respond to such nonchalant banter, Seo Won-gil took Yun's pulse and soon excused himself to fetch the medicine.
A short while later, Seo Won-gil returned carrying a familiar packet wrapped in paper—the very medicine Namgung Yun had been consuming without fail.
This was the seventh dose.
The Seven-Fold Traceless Poison completed its preparations only after the seventh dose was ingested.
'Though its lethal potency has already been rendered harmless.'
At this point, it was nothing more than an exceptional elixir that bolstered Namgung Yun's internal cultivation.
Right before Seo Won-gil's watchful eyes, Namgung Yun chewed the final dose thoroughly and swallowed it down.
"It seems I will have to rely on this medicine for a while longer."
Though he knew the truth behind the concoction, Yun spoke with complete composure.
"I am afraid I can no longer provide that particular medicine."
'Just as expected.'
The required seven doses had now been administered. The Seven-Fold Traceless Poison relied on exceedingly rare ingredients, and administering more than seven doses would prevent the technique from functioning properly, triggering an immediate fatal heart attack rather than remaining latent. Seo Won-gil's response was entirely predictable.
'A pity. It was doing wonders for expanding my internal energy.'
"Is that so? It made my body feel robust and energized, which I quite liked."
"Your praise is generous, Young Master. However, the ingredients are exceptionally rare. I went to extraordinary lengths to prepare it only because I had the honor of treating an esteemed scion of the great Namgung Clan. I must beg for your understanding."
"If that is the case, it cannot be helped."
"I shall prescribe a different restorative for you to take instead."
With that, Namgung Yun's visit drew to a close.
He had come hoping to uncover something suspicious about Seo Won-gil, but found nothing overt.
'The newly prescribed medicine wasn't laced with poison, either.'
Yet that did not mean his suspicions had waned. The existence of the Seven-Fold Traceless Poison was far too grave a matter to dismiss as a misunderstanding.
How, then, could he pry the truth out of this bastard?
'Torture is off the table for now.'
Having lived for over a century within the Demonic Cult, he knew every interrogation method under the heavens. Yet torture yielded vastly different levels of accuracy depending on how much preliminary intelligence one possessed.
'If he were an ordinary physician, that would be one thing, but this man appears to be linked to Yoma.'
That made careful deliberation all the more essential.
'Besides, it contradicts the principles of righteousness and chivalry.'
He had never heard of a chivalrous hero who strung up a suspect and tortured them on mere suspicion.
'For now, I'll maintain surveillance and look around town for anything unusual.'
Before that, however...
'I need to get out of these damn robes.'
Watching the townsfolk steer clear the moment they caught sight of his clan attire, it was obvious he wouldn't be able to exchange a single honest word, let alone gather intelligence.
Only after shedding the azure robes of the Namgung Clan was Namgung Yun freed from the terrified glances of the public.
Cursing the Namgung Clan under his breath once more, he set about gathering rumors.
He spent time drifting through bustling markets, wine shops, and taverns, keeping his ears tuned to the chatter of the locals. Before long, an unusual piece of gossip caught his attention.
'Children have been going missing?'
In the vast expanse of the Central Plains, it was hardly uncommon for children to die of sickness or famine, but vanishing without a trace was an entirely different matter.
He put the blue robes of the Namgung Clan back on.
Then, he sought out the residence where a child had reportedly disappeared.
It was a sizable estate, clearly belonging to a household of considerable wealth. Yet the atmosphere drifting over the high walls was desolate and suffocating.
Namgung Yun knocked firmly on the front gate.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, and a servant poked his head out.
"Who... Ah! An esteemed master of the great Namgung Clan! To what do we owe this honor?"
The servant bowed instantly.
This was the heart of the Namgung Clan's territory. No one outside of an escaped lunatic would dare wander these streets masquerading in the clan's uniform. The azure martial robes were, in and of themselves, an irrefutable badge of authority.
'Every tool has its use.'
Even so, the sight of such groveling brought him little joy.
"I am Namgung Yun of the Namgung Clan. I have heard that a child of this household has disappeared."
The servant's face froze.
"It may be that I can offer assistance. Could you convey my presence to your master?"
"...Please wait just a moment!"
The servant scurried deeper into the manor. Moments later, the gate swung open once more.
"The master requests your presence inside."
Following the servant, who bowed low with practiced deference, Namgung Yun stepped through the threshold.