Chapter 125: The Moment of Resolve (7)
Snowflakes began to fall, one by one. The wind was biting, the air frigid. The sun had risen, but scattered clouds diffused its light. It was harsh weather.
"Less than ten days left in this year, huh."
"Indeed."
"Haha! My seclusion must've been a long one. It was cold when I went in, and now winter greets me on the way out."
Watching the young man laugh heartily, no one would mistake him for a warrior of the Namgung family. Yet he bore the Namgung name—a direct descendant, no less, and the eldest son of the family head, Namgung In.
Namgung Pyo. A once-in-a-generation genius who had been taught the Namgung family's signature martial art, Canggung Boundless Divine Art, before even reaching twenty.
The world was vast, brimming with talent, but few could match Namgung Pyo's gifts. In martial prowess, he had already surpassed his father, Namgung In, by a full decade. Even scanning the Namgung family's storied history, fewer than three had achieved such rapid progress.
Namgung In was convinced: with his innate martial talent alone, Namgung Pyo could elevate the family to the pinnacle of the world.
"Your qi has refined remarkably."
"Pardon?"
"Far more than the day before yesterday—or even yesterday. You're changing by the hour."
Namgung Pyo flashed an awkward smile. "It's not true growth. I've merely begun to control the chaotic power that once flowed wildly in all directions. My actual progress halted three months before I emerged."
"Heh, growth."
"No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't break through further. So I came out."
Others might brand him spineless for that. But not Namgung In. He knew how obsessed his eldest son was with martial arts. If Pyo deemed it impossible, it truly was.
And he understood.
Blindingly brilliant.
Even astride his horse, there was no sway in his upper body. His back was ramrod straight, his lower body supple. He resembled a sword standing at the ready—flexible yet resolute, exuding an aura that promised a devastating strike in any moment, any crisis.
Namgung In smiled. "Your grandfather must have trained you well."
"I thought I was going to die."
Namgung Pyo exaggerated with mock complaint, but it wasn't fabricated. He must have endured unimaginable rigor.
"Your grandfather's swordsmanship rivals the world's best. I lacked the talent to grasp even half of it, but you'll master it all."
Namgung Pyo grinned wryly. "We'll see. I intend to, but right now, it feels daunting."
"Never thought I'd hear such words from you. Weren't you always brimming with confidence?"
"I've simply realized that the path of martial arts is too brutal to tread on confidence alone."
"Heh."
Namgung In was genuinely pleased. "If you understand that, you're set. What you lacked before seclusion was the ability to shed your arrogance."
"Was that it?"
"I didn't bother saying it—you'd have let it go in one ear and out the other."
"I can be stubborn."
"Only martial arts can temper that stubbornness. Realizing the world's vastness through it makes your seclusion worthwhile."
He said as much, but Namgung In never saw his son's arrogance as a flaw. Some earned the right to it. In his eyes, Pyo more than qualified.
Excessive pride inevitably bred mistakes, and mistakes led to failure. But his son had returned transformed—martial arts advanced, temperament matured—now embodying the poise of a worthy heir.
"By the way..."
Namgung In's tone turned serious. "How far did your grandfather teach you in his sword forms?"
Namgung Pyo replied bitterly. "Up to the first three forms of the initial half."
"The first three sword forms?"
"Yes. He said anything more would be unnecessary. In truth, even imitating them properly, let alone grasping the profundities, is beyond me."
Pyo sounded truly rueful, but Namgung In saw it differently.
Deeper than I imagined.
He'd expected one or two forms at most. Yet the first three of the initial half—all passed down. His father never taught martial arts to the unworthy, blood kin or not. Even he, the son, had only begun refining those three forms a decade ago.
Father acknowledges Pyo.
It warmed him. He knew his own limits: capable of leading the Namgung family, but not claiming supremacy over the world.
Still, he'd raised his children masterfully.
In the next decade, he'll surpass my realm.
Gazing fondly at his son, Namgung In suddenly thought of his own father.
Father.
A complex shadow crossed his face, hard to name.
Still no intention of returning to the world, it seems.
The former head of the Sword Supreme Namgung family, Namgung In's father. The world called him the Sword Emperor.
Sword Emperor Namgung Seung. The foremost of the Ten Sacred Thrones, absolute sovereign of the Central Plains' sword lineage—an invincible master.
In the realm of the sword, only the Sword Immortal might rival him—perhaps he'd even surpassed that figure by now.
Between those dubbed Divine Immortal Emperors and Kings, their martial levels are evenly matched. But the Sword Immortal pursues enlightenment; in a true clash of blades, even he couldn't surpass Father.
The Thirteen Sacred Thrones divided into the Ten Divine Immortal Emperors and Kings—One God, Two Immortals, Three Emperors, Four Kings—and the Three Lords below them.
Each of the Ten was a monster at martial arts' pinnacle. The Three Lords, emerging a half-generation later, lagged in power but were hailed for talent exceeding even the Ten—future candidates to join their ranks.
Namgung Seung was the pinnacle of those Ten.
It's time he emerged.
Namgung In yearned for his father's return—not as a son, but as family head. With Namgung Seung's feats, the Namgung name would edge closer to unrivaled supremacy.
Regrettable.
To Namgung In, his father was a tangled bond of love and resentment. At least the old man had properly trained his grandson—a silver lining.
"Train diligently. With my meager talent, I've only now glimpsed the profundities of those three forms. You'll grasp them sooner."
"I must."
"The Emperor Sword Forms… Master that absolute sword alone, and the world will kneel before your blade."
Namgung Pyo chuckled in response, then glanced back. Right behind Namgung In and Pyo rode Namgung Hyeon, his expression inscrutable.
Namgung Pyo grinned. "And you?"
"Pardon?"
"I heard you stirred up trouble while I was secluded."
Namgung Hyeon's face subtly stiffened.
Namgung In interjected. "Water under the bridge."
"Past or not, some things can't be forgotten. We must confirm if he recognizes his faults—and if he's willing to correct them."
Pyo's eyes chilled. "Handle it wisely, but as an elder brother, one word of caution: Don't let mere romance squander the skills you've honed."
"…Understood."
Studying Hyeon a moment longer, Pyo soon laughed and turned away. "Then again, at your age, it's natural. Blood runs hot in youth—when else to feel it? Haha!"
Hyeon's lips twitched faintly.
Namgung In chided. "Don't act like some old fogey. You're still young."
"Young, sure. Just turned thirty. But isn't that when youthful fire starts to wane?"
Pyo tilted his head. "Heard the Jegal family is still dragging their feet on a reply?"
"They asked for time."
Pyo shook his head. "That's a clear rejection."
"I agree."
"Sending a matchmaker first was no small gesture. They know that. We could leverage it to pressure them."
Namgung In shook his head. "Even diminished, the Jegals are Jegals. That moniker Divine Strategist Jegal isn't for show."
"Tch."
"We'll see them soon enough. Better to tie up loose ends decisively."
Pyo burst into laughter. "Hope they realize they've kicked away a golden opportunity."
Watching his father and brother banter amiably, Namgung Hyeon drowned in an inexpressible sense of defeat.
Damn it.
With his brother's emergence from seclusion, Father's attention had wholly shifted. It was always thus—even before.
Nothing new, yet losing even that fleeting favor stung.
And to discuss his sensitive matter with Jegal A-yeon right in front of him?
One day, I'll surpass you. No matter what!
His grip on the reins trembled.
He ached to unleash a sword strike right then.
"Speaking of which, it seems Sanghwa has completely shut her heart."
"If that's her limit, so be it."
"Father, you're truly cold."
"Heh."
Pyo's eyes gleamed. "Yeon family's eldest son… intriguing fellow."
During his two years in seclusion, he'd learned of major events. Most shocking: Yeon Hojeong, the Wall Mountain Tiger.
Defying a great clan was impressive, but crushing frictions with his siblings so effortlessly? Astonishing.
That went beyond mere strength. And rumor held his martial arts were formidable too.
No spot among the One Dragon Three Peaks yet—his moniker saw to that—but his skill neared their level.
"Hiding his power while branded a good-for-nothing son?"
"Possible. Key point: he's a genius rivaling his brother."
"This gets interesting. Meeting overflowing talent is always thrilling, whenever, wherever."
Namgung In's eyes widened. "Planning to meet him?"
"He's coming to the alliance, isn't he? The Yeon head won't come alone."
Namgung In clicked his tongue. "No trouble."
"I'm no fool staining the family name with hot blood."
The two roared with laughter.
Namgung Hyeon's face burned crimson watching them.
How far had they traveled?
"Cross that ridge, and it's Dae Byeol Mountain. The Mu Rim Meng is just ahead."
"Indeed."
The air already felt charged. Martial artists converged from all directions toward the mountain.
"Since we're this close, shall we push on without rest?"
"Let's."
Then—
…?!
Namgung In and Pyo's faces hardened.
Experts?
From a distant side path to the left rode a group. At their fore, two flags fluttered in the wind.
"…The Yeon family."