True Respect for the Strong
The sound of someone swallowing hard broke the silence.
Namgung Yun glanced sideways. Namgung Geol and Namgung Yeon stood stiff as statues, their faces pale and rigid. Even for the most promising fledglings of the great Namgung Clan, standing in the presence of a master of Mo Seok-heon's caliber was far too daunting to act rashly.
Peak Realm, roughly.
He could not gauge the exact depth of the man's cultivation, for his current body lagged behind Mo Seok-heon's. Yet the instincts he had honed over a century and a half told him with absolute certainty that Mo Seok-heon had crossed the threshold into the Peak Realm. It was only natural that boys still lingering in the Second and Third-rate realms would buckle beneath such spiritual weight.
"Now then. What happened here?" Mo Seok-heon demanded, turning his attention to the three Mo Clan youths who had finally regained their wits.
All three immediately pointed trembling fingers straight at Namgung Yun.
"We were just minding our own business eating a meal when that bastard ambushed us!"
"It was a sneak attack! We didn't even have time to react!"
"We never dreamed a scion of the noble Namgung Clan would stoop to such underhanded cowardly tactics!"
Their voices were thick with indignation, each eager to outdo the other in heaping blame upon him. Mo Seok-heon shifted his heavy gaze toward Namgung Yun.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"I merely disciplined a few ruffians who were wreaking havoc in an inn."
"Is that so?"
"It's a lie!"
"We were just having our meal!"
"Utter nonsense!"
They denied it in unison, their voices frantic.
"So they say," Mo Seok-heon remarked, his eyes narrowing.
"They are lying," Yun replied flatly. "They beat an inn waiter senseless. The inn's entrance was shattered when they hurled him out."
"We merely taught a lesson to an insolent peasant who dared act brazenly before us!"
"Would your Namgung Clan have done any differently?"
Neither side yielded an inch, their claims grinding against each other like whetstones.
"Let us question the inn's staff first," Namgung Uncheon stepped in, but Mo Seok-heon dismissed him with a contemptuous shake of his head.
"How could we trust their word? If they wish to continue living and working in this city, they must cater to the whims of the Namgung Clan. Naturally, they would take your side."
"Then what do you propose we do?"
"The only incontrovertible fact is that a member of the Namgung Clan laid hands on our people."
"Did you not hear? The youngsters of your Anhui Mo Clan were the ones who started this brawl!"
"They were administering discipline! If they forgave an insolent peasant with nothing more than a beating for acting brazenly before members of the great Anhui Mo Clan, that waiter should be on his knees thanking them!"
Namgung Uncheon glared at Mo Seok-heon, but the elder's face remained an unyielding wall of brazen arrogance.
"We have no intention of letting this matter slide."
"And what does that mean? Are you declaring war?"
"If pushed, why shouldn't we?"
The air curdled, growing dangerously sharp. Mo Seok-heon rested his hand lightly upon the pommel of his sabre. In response, Namgung Uncheon's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.
"You would do well to stand down," Mo Seok-heon warned coldly. "Do you truly believe a mere administrative clerk of your caliber can stand against me?"
The tension coiled so tightly that steel seemed poised to draw blood at any second. Namgung Geol and Namgung Yeon, as well as the Mo Clan retainers, held their breath, their expressions petrified. Only Namgung Yun stood leisurely, idly scratching his chin.
"That will be quite enough!"
A booming voice shattered the suffocating deadlock like a sudden crack of thunder. Through the ruined entrance strode two figures—filthy, ragged beggars. Yet neither Namgung Uncheon nor Mo Seok-heon dared sneer at their disheveled appearance. In unison, both masters lowered their stances and offered a respectful martial salute.
"Senior Eccentric Beggar Immortal, is that you?"
"We pay our respects to the Senior."
"Enough, enough! What's so great about an old beggar like me?" Hong Jong waved his hands dismissively, then cast his gaze around the wreckage with exaggerated dismay. "First, allow me to apologize for meddling uninvited. But the atmosphere was turning far too murderous to ignore. I don't know what kind of mess brewed here, but would you two be willing to stay your hands for the sake of this old beggar's face?"
"...If Senior insists," Mo Seok-heon relented, pulling his hand away from his sabre. Seeing that, Namgung Uncheon let his hand fall away from his sword as well.
"However, we cannot simply sweep this under the rug," Mo Seok-heon pressed, his tone hardened. "The Namgung Clan must offer a formal apology and bear full responsibility."
"I told you already—your people were the ones who caused this disturbance in the first place!"
"We are the ones who suffered actual physical injuries! What disturbance are you barking about?!"
Though an immediate bloodbath had been averted, the animosity between the two elders showed no sign of dying down.
"First, enlighten me on what happened," Hong Jong urged.
"Allow me to explain," Mo Seok-heon volunteered.
He recounted the events leading up to this moment. Surprisingly, his account was objective enough that Namgung Uncheon, who had been bracing himself to challenge any self-serving fabrications, found nothing to dispute.
"Hmph. So, from the Namgung Clan's perspective, they were merely punishing ruffians who were causing a disturbance. And from the Anhui Mo Clan's perspective, they were merely disciplining someone who deserved it, only to be ambushed." Hong Jong nodded slowly. "Have you questioned the other witnesses?"
"There is no need," Mo Seok-heon scoffed. "Every one of them makes their living in this city. Whose side do you think they would take? That waiter is no different. He wouldn't dare utter a single word that might disadvantage himself."
"You see how utterly unreasonable he is being?" Namgung Uncheon said.
"It is not unreasonableness. It is a pragmatic response to reality."
"Hmm." Hong Jong stroked his beard.
Tracking down individual witnesses and taking their testimonies would certainly flesh out the details. Even if they lied out of loyalty or fear toward the Namgung Clan, cross-examining them separately would inevitably expose discrepancies that could be picked apart. The real problem was pride. This had devolved into a battle of prestige between two great families. Even if the testimonies proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that one clan was at fault, that clan would never accept it.
"How about this, then?" Mo Seok-heon suggested, noticing Hong Jong's hesitation. "Arguing like this will never yield a conclusion. It will only breed deeper resentment."
"And so?" Hong Jong asked, swallowing the urge to ask whether there was any goodwill left between their two clans to lose in the first place.
"Let us settle it with a duel. In the manner fitting martial artists."
"Hoh."
It was not an unexpected proposal. For martial artists who lived by the blade, using the blade to determine right and wrong was practically second nature. Yet Hong Jong saw right through it.
So this was what those Mo Clan bastards were after all along.
Still, for him and the Beggars' Sect, it was far from a bad resolution.
"What is the Namgung Clan's stance?" Hong Jong asked.
"...I will consult the Clan Head regarding his wishes," Namgung Uncheon replied.
He showed no strong opposition. In truth, he had likely realized it as well—that this duel was Mo Seok-heon's true objective from the start. Yet, no matter how much others sneered at his administrative post, he was still a son of the great Namgung Clan. He had no intention of shrinking from a challenge laid bare at his feet.
"Very well. Let us settle it that way for now," Hong Jong declared. "Staring at each other's faces will only breed further friction, so I advise both parties to separate at once."
"We shall take our leave," Mo Seok-heon said coldly. "We have no desire to linger in such a squalid hovel where nothing but petty nuisances occur."
"Right, go on then."
Mo Seok-heon ordered his men to gather their belongings. The three youngsters who had tasted Yun's fists scurried off to their rooms without delay.
During that brief interlude, Mo Seok-heon turned his eyes upon Namgung Yun.
"You should count yourself lucky. Had Senior Eccentric Beggar Immortal not arrived, I would have personally imparted a lesson to you."
A faint wisp of spiritual pressure bore down on Namgung Yun. It was a blatant, provocative gesture, entirely uncalled for now that the dispute had reached a ceasefire. Just as Namgung Uncheon's brow furrowed and Hong Jong moved to intervene, Namgung Yun spoke up.
"There doesn't seem to be anything worth learning from you, Senior, so there is no need to feel so regretful."
Namgung Uncheon and Hong Jong stared at Namgung Yun in utter disbelief.
Faint as it might be, that pressure came from a Peak Realm master. For someone at Namgung Yun's supposed level—considered to be at the middle tier of the First-rate Realm—merely remaining on his feet without collapsing would have warranted praise. Yet not only did he withstand it effortlessly, he fired back with crisp nonchalance.
What absurd audacity.
Hong Jong recalled the description of Namgung Yun given by the Anhui Branch Manager.
To think such a lad was once known as a trembling coward. How fascinating.
Namgung Uncheon, on the other hand, was reminded of how Yun had carried himself when confronting Namgung Jeongcheon.
Even back then, he didn't bat an eye.
Mo Seok-heon was undoubtedly a master, but he could hardly hold a candle to the Heavenly Lightning Sword God, Namgung Jeongcheon. If Yun had spoken his mind plainly before the Patriarch himself, why would he falter here?
This child might truly be the future of our clan.
Unlike the two onlookers, Mo Seok-heon was thoroughly infuriated by the boy's insolence.
"Because my hands are tied, your tongue wags quite freely."
"You misunderstand."
"Misunderstand?"
"Even if your hands were entirely free, Senior, my attitude would not have differed in the least."
"...!"
For a brief moment, it sounded as though he were preparing an excuse, only to ram his horns straight into the elder's chest. Hong Jong broke into a cold sweat trying to keep his twitching lips from breaking into a grin. As an elder of the Jianghu who had stepped in to mediate, he was obligated to maintain a solemn, dignified air, but holding back his laughter was proving a monumental task.
In contrast, Namgung Uncheon watched Yun with growing apprehension.
Even if he hails from a rival clan, there is no need to forge such bitter enmity.
"That is enough, Yun. There is no need to worsen the situation—"
"Stay out of this," Mo Seok-heon snapped, cutting him off with naked contempt.
Namgung Uncheon's eyes turned sharp. Even granting that a clan's general administrator carried little martial authority, Mo Seok-heon's disrespect had crossed the line. Yet Mo Seok-heon had no intention of reigning it in.
"A weakling of a general administrator dares to butt in?"
It was an outright insult. Even Hong Jong, who had been quietly enjoying the spectacle, felt Mo Seok-heon had gone too far and drew a breath to issue a warning.
Before he could, Namgung Yun spoke in a calm, measured voice.
"It seems the Anhui Mo Clan holds the position of a clan's General Administrator in utter contempt."
"I wondered what nonsense you were about to spout," Mo Seok-heon sneered. "The Murim is a world where the strong reign supreme—Respect for the Strong. And the administrators of sects and clans are merely those who lacked the strength to stand among the strong."
Therefore, scorning them is only natural. Though he left the conclusion unsaid, no one present failed to understand his meaning.
"Yet it seems you think differently," Mo Seok-heon added, his tone mocking.
"I respect him."
A stunned silence washed over the room. Mo Seok-heon, Namgung Uncheon, and every martial artist present stared at Yun as if he had lost his mind. His words flew in the face of everything the modern Jianghu held to be true.
"Ha! If this is another manifestation of your laughable Righteousness and Chivalry, save your breath. Such threadbare, archaic ideals have no place in the Jianghu of today."
"It has nothing to do with Righteousness and Chivalry."
If that were his reason, he might despise the act of scorning the weak, but it would never inspire genuine reverence.
"It is precisely because of Respect for the Strong."
"What?"
Utter bewilderment seized the crowd. Was not the very reason administrators were looked down upon the pervasive doctrine of Respect for the Strong? How could that same doctrine possibly be the reason to revere one?
Namgung Yun clicked his tongue inwardly.
These ignorant orthodox fools.
Looking at the way things were unfolding, it was clear that the Anhui Mo Clan had fallen prey to the same half-baked, distorted interpretation of Respect for the Strong as the Namgung Clan. His probing words had struck dead center.
If you're going to practice it, do it properly.
No matter how he looked at it, what these orthodox hypocrites practiced was not true Respect for the Strong. If they truly understood and upheld Gangjajon, they could never look down upon the position of General Administrator.
In the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, the General Administrator was a figure who commanded the heartfelt respect of every single cultist!