Uninvited Guests
Even as he chuckled, Namgung Uncheon could not entirely conceal his surprise.
To think Geol would ever say such things.
He had already heard the rumors that Namgung Geol was shadowing Namgung Yun, declaring his intention to pursue "righteousness and chivalry." The matter had even been brought up several times during clan council meetings in the presence of the Patriarch. Yet witnessing it with his own eyes was jarring nonetheless. Within the clan, Geol had been one of the most ardent disciples of their might-makes-right creed.
To think that boy has changed this drastically…
Uncheon studied Namgung Yun. The young man’s appearance remained unchanged from before, yet his posture and the depth in his eyes were entirely different.
“Very well. Keep up the good work.”
Curiosity tugged at him, but as the General Administrator of the Great Namgung Clan, he was a busy man. Without any urgent business to discuss, he had no leisure to stand around chatting. Just as he offered a parting word of encouragement and turned to head back to the estate, a group appearing at the far end of the street forced his boots to a sudden halt.
“That’s…”
“The Anhui Mo Clan?”
Following Uncheon’s gaze, Namgung Geol and Namgung Yeon murmured under their breath.
Yun watched them approach with genuine interest.
So those are the bastards threatening the Namgung Clan’s dominance over Anhui Province.
He wondered what caliber of men they were. If they possessed enough strength to menace the Namgung Clan, they certainly would not be weak. Above all, another thought stirred in his mind.
Since they belong to the Orthodox faction, perhaps I can learn something about chivalry from them.
The Namgung Clan held the Anhui Mo Clan in the lowest possible regard, but that was only natural for rivals locked in a bitter struggle for supremacy. The prejudices of the Namgung Clan hardly represented the consensus of the world. Who could say? Perhaps the Mo Clan was a genuinely righteous house that truly honored chivalry and justice, which only made the corrupt Namgung Clan despise them all the more.
If that proved true, then to Yun, the Anhui Mo Clan would not be adversaries to fight, but allies to embrace. If he could truly learn the path of chivalry from them, he was prepared to treat them as mentors. The elders of the Namgung Clan would froth at the mouth, of course.
Well, who told them to abandon chivalry and obsess over their damned "Respect for the Strong"?
Once he became the strongest in the Namgung Clan, their protests would mean nothing. He would gladly grind them beneath his heel with a smile. After all, had they not forged those rules themselves?
Unfortunately for Yun—and fortunately for the Namgung Clan—reality proved far less idealistic.
They’re cut from the exact same cloth.
Long before any words were exchanged, before the distance between them had even closed, Yun knew. Arrogance bled through their every stride. Their eyes dripped with contempt for the commoners lining the street, radiating an overbearing pressure that seemed eager to crush everything around them. No matter how generous he tried to be, he could not see a shred of authentic righteousness in them. At the very least, none of the Orthodox sects he had observed during his past life in the Sacred Cult had ever carried themselves like this.
If anything, that’s how Unorthodox scum behave.
Having spotted Yun’s party from afar, the Mo Clan entourage strode straight toward them. Namgung Uncheon stepped forward, a deep furrow cutting into his brow at the unwelcome encounter.
“Well, look who it is! If it isn’t General Administrator Namgung Uncheon of the Namgung Clan!”
“It has been a long time.”
Uncheon responded in an even tone to the man leading the vanguard, Mo Seok-heon. The man projected an air of boisterous bravado, yet his eyes darted like a venomous viper searching for prey to swallow whole. Calm though Uncheon sounded, his heart was far from at ease.
“You have arrived far earlier than the date we were given.”
“Haha! I set out with plenty of time to spare so our youngsters could gain some worldly experience, but they proved far too quick on the uptake. Before I knew it, we had arrived ahead of schedule!”
Uncheon glanced past Mo Seok-heon to inspect the youths trailing him. They were remarkably young, around the same age as Yun and his companions.
“How fortunate for you.”
“Indeed! Fortunate, very much so! Does it not prove that the future of our Anhui Mo Clan is brighter than ever?”
Mo Seok-heon let out a booming laugh before glancing over his shoulder.
“Pay your respects, boys. This is General Administrator Namgung Uncheon of the Namgung Clan. His martial title is…”
Mo Seok-heon slapped his forehead with exaggerated theatricality.
“Ah, that’s right, you don’t have one! Forgive my rudeness. I must be getting old—my memory isn't what it used to be!”
He bellowed with laughter once more.
Naturally, no one present was naive enough to take his words at face value. It was a blatant, calculated insult designed to demean Uncheon. Beside him, Uncheon’s son, Namgung Yeon, tightened his jaw, while Namgung Geol’s expression turned rigid with fury.
“I am Mo Unseon.”
“Mo Unsu.”
“Mo Unhoe.”
“Mo Undo.”
The Mo Clan youths gave curt introductions one after another. Uncheon nodded curtly, then turned to Yun’s party.
“This is Elder Mo Seok-heon of the Anhui Mo Clan.”
“In the Jianghu, people call me the Heaven-Collapsing Hegemonic Blade!”
Mo Seok-heon thumped his chest with a heavy, arrogant hand. Upon hearing the title, Geol and Yeon stiffened noticeably once again.
Is there a history behind that? Yun tilted his head slightly in thought. But now was not the time to satisfy his curiosity.
“I am Namgung Yun.”
“Namgung Geol.”
“Namgung Yeon.”
As the three youths introduced themselves in turn, the Mo Clan members showed an immediate spark of interest—aimed squarely at Yun.
“So you’re that Namgung Yun. I hear you were the one who handled that jiangshi incident?”
“It was nothing of consequence.”
“Haha! How could that be? Slaying a legendary jiangshi—how could that ever be called ‘nothing of consequence’? You must have suffered a great deal.”
Praise from a bitter adversary? Could it be that he was magnanimous enough to separate clan rivalries from individual merit? Naturally, that was far from the truth.
“Had it been our clan, we would have exterminated such vermin long before it could ever crawl into our lands.”
“……”
I see. He’s propping me up only to mock the Namgung Clan for its incompetence.
Yun discarded whatever microscopic expectations he had held for the Anhui Mo Clan. Thinking he could learn chivalry and righteousness from them had been pure fantasy. If anything, their slimy, underhanded nature was the exact breed of arrogance he found most distasteful.
“…For now, I shall escort you to the clan estate,” Uncheon cut in coldly. “I do not know the reason for your sudden arrival, but I will arrange an audience with the Clan Head.”
“What do you mean, why did we come? Because of the jiangshi, of course! Since this occurred within Anhui Province, we have an obligation to ascertain the full scale of the threat.”
“It was already agreed that this matter would be resolved through the Murim Alliance.”
“We have no intention of disregarding the Alliance’s judgment. However, we cannot simply sit on our hands and leave everything to outsiders when this happened on the very soil where our roots lie.”
“The Mount Cheonju territory falls under the jurisdiction of the Namgung Clan.”
“Yet it remains within Anhui Province. Had your clan properly prevented the incident from the start, we wouldn't have needed to waste our breath making this troublesome journey.”
“Perhaps you ought to mind your own borders first.”
“We manage them exceptionally well. Have you heard of any disasters erupting in our territory?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“What…?”
“The Alliance is investigating that very matter as well… Do you truly intend to continue this discussion out in the open street?”
Mo Seok-heon’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Uncheon, trying to discern whether the administrator was bluffing to save face or speaking the truth. He glanced around. The street was deserted. No sensible civilian lingered when martial artists clashed; shopkeepers had shuttered their doors and retreated deep inside, leaving the wide thoroughfare utterly vacant.
Even so, rumors possessed wings.
“Very well. We shall hear the rest at your estate.”
“Follow me.”
The Mo Clan entourage fell into step behind Uncheon without further fuss. Yun’s group remained in place, watching them depart. In that moment, Yun’s gaze locked with one of the Mo Clan youths—a boy around his age whose searching, calculating stare prickled with malice.
Was his name… Mo Unseon?
The silent confrontation lasted only a breath. Sensing that causing a scene here served no purpose, Mo Unseon broke eye contact and trailed after Uncheon. Just like that, the brief squall passed.
Once the Mo Clan disappeared down the avenue, Namgung Geol spat venomously onto the cobblestones.
“Tch! Those wretched scoundrels had to send an even more wretched bastard. ‘Heaven-Collapsing’? Heaven-collapsing my foot!”
“Is there some history behind that title?”
Nothing surfaced in Yun’s memory; evidently, the original Namgung Yun had known nothing about it either.
“Ah, Hyung-nim, you’ve never paid much attention to external clan politics. It’s simple, really. Those bastards from the Anhui Mo Clan love attaching the word ‘Bungcheon’—Heaven-Collapsing—to their titles.”
“Why?”
To shatter the heavens. It was a brazen, overbearing phrase, the kind typically favored by Unorthodox martial artists. Yet it was not entirely unheard of among Orthodox sects either.
“What do the foundational arts of our Namgung Clan reach toward?”
The heavens. The sky.
The moment Geol said it, everything clicked.
“A blatant declaration that they intend to bring down our clan.”
“Precisely.”
“Yet simply giving oneself a grandiose title doesn't mean the rest of the world will recognize it, does it?”
No matter how much the Anhui Mo Clan had grown to rival them, the wider Jianghu was vast. Within the Orthodox faction alone, there were over a dozen organizations of comparable standing, including the Nine Factions and One Sect alongside the Five Great Clans. Add the Unorthodox factions into the mix, and the martial world would never blindly accept whatever arrogant sobriquets the Mo Clan invented for themselves.
“That’s why most of their self-proclaimed titles end up laughed out of existence,” Geol explained. “The trouble is that a handful of their truly formidable masters actually force the Jianghu to acknowledge them.”
“And that Mo Seok-heon is one of those cases.”
“Exactly. On top of that, he’s the biggest thorn in our side. Whenever friction arises between our clan and the Mo Clan, you can bet that bastard will be the first one to charge in and make a mess.”
I see. It was no wonder the Namgung youths ground their teeth in disgust. And the fact that the Mo Clan had dispatched that very man to their doorstep now could only mean one thing.
They have no intention of letting this matter pass peacefully.
A storm was brewing.
Yun’s premonition came to fruition far sooner than expected.
Later that afternoon, Yun was out on routine patrol with Geol and Yeon. Following the arrival of the Mo Clan, an uneasy, razor-sharp tension had settled over the clan estate, but Yun paid it no mind. As they walked the perimeter checking for any disturbances—
CRASH!
“Guh-ack!”
The wooden door of a roadside establishment shattered into splinters as a body came flying through the entrance. Yun stopped dead in his tracks as the man skidded across the ground and rolled to a halt right at his feet.
“Ugh… argh…”
The man groaned, clutching his ribs. While the injuries were not fatal, it was clear at a glance that he had been brutally beaten.
“What the—!”
“Who would dare?!”
Geol and Yeon reacted with alarm, while Yun crouched to examine the victim.
Fractures in the arms and legs, accompanied by extensive severe contusions.
Fortunately, his internal organs had escaped critical damage.
Yun lifted his gaze toward the ruined entrance. It was a well-frequented tavern—not the most luxurious establishment in the region, but respectable enough that scions of the Namgung Clan often visited for a drink. Yun himself occasionally dropped by after completing his patrols. The tavern even employed its own private guards, making it impossible for ordinary street thugs to cause such a violent scene.
“Tend to him.”
Handing the wounded man over to a trembling waiter hovering near the shattered entrance, Yun stepped through the doorway.
Despite a man being violently tossed into the street, the interior of the tavern was eerily still. It was not empty. Rather, dozens of patrons sat frozen, their faces drained of color, keeping their mouths clamped shut while casting fearful glances toward a single corner of the hall.
Yun’s gaze naturally drifted in that direction.
Of course.
He had already anticipated it. If anyone in town was brazen enough to start a brawl right now, there was only one likely culprit.
Sure enough, seated comfortably at a corner table, the young disciples of the Anhui Mo Clan were casually sipping wine. Yun looked at them askance, a cold, sardonic glint in his eye.