Conviction (1)
The massive spear wove countless afterimages, tracing paths like enormous flower petals in a mesmerizing display. But it was red. The petals were drenched in deep crimson.
Spurt!
Blood erupted from Chuseong's entire body, soaking the center of the training ground.
"Gasp!"
"S-stop it!"
Yeon Hojeong didn't stop. He'd said he'd kill the man once, and he meant it. Death clung to the spear blade, gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight.
"Kuhuk!"
Chuseong vomited blood, his body convulsing. A net of spear wounds crisscrossed his flesh. But they weren't ordinary cuts. The Bi-ra Jin-gyeol infused into the blade had seeped into the injuries, worsening his internal damage.
He'd incorporated penetrating energy into the technique itself. Regardless of how advanced this martial art was, no one attempted something like this unless they truly intended to kill.
Death?
Chuseong's eyes bulged red.
Me? Dying?
In his blurring vision, Yeon Hojeong appeared. The demon who had crippled a man with chaotic spear strikes smirked coldly, preparing the final blow.
Terror finally etched across Chuseong's face. That fiend wearing human skin really meant to end him.
"Cough! Sp-spare…!"
Yeon Hojeong didn't respond. Gripping the middle of the shaft like drawing a bowstring, he thrust the spear forward with all his might.
Whoosh!
Chuseong squeezed his eyes shut. Then—
Clang!!
The spear halted.
"Hah!"
The tip stopped an inch from Chuseong's throat. A split second later, and it would have pierced clean through.
Chuseong's trembling body went limp. He'd passed out.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes darkened. What had blocked this strike was an iron staff—and a hand. It had aimed to deflect the shaft, but the force was too overwhelming, so the hand had grabbed and twisted it aside.
He looked at the one who had stopped his spear.
"…Gangbang Leader?"
"Like I said earlier."
The voice trembled. The pressure from the spear pinning the staff was immense.
"My master's lifeline is too damn stubborn. So I'm still playing successor for now."
"…."
"Nngh! Damn, your strength is insane. Hurts like hell."
Drip.
Blood stained Gadeuksang's palm where he'd gripped the spear. This wasn't a simple thrust. It carried rotation and twisting force to maximize penetration.
Yeon Hojeong silently watched Gadeuksang before releasing the power from his spear.
"Whew!"
Gadeuksang pulled back his staff and hand with a drained expression.
Yeon Hojeong's face hardened.
"What the hell was that? If you'd mistimed it, your hand would've…."
"Gone flying. If I hadn't poured in my inner energy right on time, I'd be a far sadder beggar than this."
He shook out his hand casually, as if it were no big deal.
"But saving two lives with one hand? That's a profit, right?"
Two lives. One was clearly Chuseong. Then the other?
"Unnecessary worry."
Gadeuksang replied. His voice dropped noticeably, low enough for only Yeon Hojeong to hear.
"The Namgung family is strong. Before the Nine Great Clans built their momentum, they were seen as the closest to the The Premier Family of the Empire.. You know that, right?"
"There are too many ways to topple a great elephant to count them all."
"You planning to take down the Namgung family?"
Yeon Hojeong's eyes deepened.
"If necessary."
Gadeuksang forced a smile. He was grinning, but chills ran down his spine. Setting aside whether it was feasible, this young man was dead serious.
Dangerous.
Talent aside, Gadeuksang sensed an ironclad conviction in Yeon Hojeong's gaze and voice. Right or wrong didn't matter to him. Once he set his mind to something, he'd stake his life on it. A resolve so unyielding it felt wrong to call it mere "determination."
If that will veered into the demonic path, it would become madness. If it stayed on the righteous path, it would forge unbreakable faith.
"Anyway, lots of eyes on us. Let's call this fight here."
Yeon Hojeong, his gaze clear and piercing, scanned the surroundings.
Countless people stared back. Most were martial artists.
Surprisingly, it was their eyes. Normally, witnessing such a brutal duel would inspire fear. In the world of ordinary folk, that might hold true.
But these were murim folk too? The later-generation disciples watching weren't just shocked—they were thrilled.
It wasn't bloodlust. It was the thrill of warriors.
The ferocious, merciless spearwork that overwhelmed without mercy. The sword that clung tenaciously to the end, even in defeat. The clashes of spear and blade thundered like gongs, the exchanges flowing like water—gripping, sweat-inducing spectacle.
For disciples raised on controlled spars within their clans, this raw, unscripted bout stirred their warrior spirits. Gender made no difference. Even that Namgung Hyeon had fire in his eyes.
A situation no one could cheer for, yet the unexpected ferocity made hearts race.
"Those kids are all fired up, huh? Easier than I thought?"
Yeon Hojeong glanced at Gadeuksang.
Gadeuksang shrugged comically.
"Wrap it up nicely, why don'tcha."
Yeon Hojeong couldn't help but chuckle.
"It was a life-or-death duel between warriors. You'll pay for interfering."
"What a weirdo. Can't even say thanks. Ah, whatever. Just clean it up already."
Yeon Hojeong stamped the spear butt into the ground.
Thud!
All eyes turned to him. He spoke calmly.
"Sorry to startle everyone. But if the successor hadn't stopped me, I would've killed that swordsman for real."
A chill gripped the outer courtyard.
The warriors had been thrilled, but they were heirs of the orthodox path, schooled in greater righteousness. They couldn't approve of someone declaring they'd kill without hesitation.
"Any reason?"
A burly youth asked. Unlike yesterday, his face was grave. Paeng Daeho.
"Brother Yeon, your skill in beating Squad Leader Chu is impressive. But in a place like this, wasn't it too much?"
He wasn't siding with Yeon Hojeong like yesterday. That was Paeng Daeho's principle. Young as he was, he separated yesterday's incident from this duel. He had clear standards.
Still, calling him "Brother Yeon" unconsciously revealed his goodwill.
"No reason to hide it. This morning…."
Yeon Hojeong explained briefly and concisely. No rambling. He hit the core points, clarifying the chain of events leading here.
Perhaps that's why. Though short, listeners felt like they'd heard a full tale. His words were that logical and compelling.
Gadeuksang inwardly marveled.
Not ordinary at all.
More impressive than the martial arts that crushed Chuseong. Composed delivery, no wasted words. His steady voice flowed naturally with power, his phrasing leaving no room for interruption. It bordered on oratory.
This wasn't innate—it was honed experience. You couldn't command a crowd from a high seat without mastering that rhythm.
Gadeuksang's admiring gaze turned puzzled.
Just who the hell is he?
Not yet twenty, yet savage skill to break Chuseong. Unshakable conviction polished to dominate foes instinctively. Charisma that didn't flinch from the crowd's stares, effortlessly drawing them into his aura.
Genius doesn't cover it. If I hadn't seen him, I'd mistake him for a sect leader heading a massive faction.
Gadeuksang's eyes deepened.
Who are you?
The courtyard fell silent. As Yeon Hojeong finished, eyes shifted to Namgung Hyeon.
His face flushed red. He tried masking it, but anyone could see his panic.
"Tch."
Myeong Horim, hands behind his back, sighed.
"Little Brother Namgung messed up."
Namgung Hyeon's eyes wavered. He hadn't expected Myeong Horim to turn like this.
"Even if he's a ruffian, he's new to the Namgung family. From Squad Leader Chu's view, he wanted to show something for your clan. Calming your subordinate's zeal is a virtue of a superior."
Namgung Hyeon's eyes gleamed. Myeong Horim continued evenly.
"I know the fatigue of hosting. You can stand tall. But failing to rein in your subordinate was your mistake. Shouldn't you apologize publicly?"
Clever words. Sure, it was excessive, ruining a fine gathering with talk of insults and bloodshed—that could be spun as a mistake too. Plenty of ammo to attack Yeon Hojeong.
But Myeong Horim pinned responsibility on Namgung Hyeon as the host clan's representative.
Gadeuksang's eyes sparkled.
Burying it completely? Sly bastard.
If Namgung Hyeon apologized, the incident ends. Dragging up a closed matter looks petty—like Chuseong had. It also buries Namgung Hyeon's intent. The clear wrongdoing vanishes, leaving only a "management mistake."
Myeong Horim feigned rebuke to seal the event, while showcasing elder statesman grace.
Their eyes met.
You owe me one.
I won't forget.
Wrap it up.
As Namgung Hyeon opened his mouth—
"Impressive."
All eyes snapped to Yeon Hojeong. He smiled at Namgung Hyeon.
"He's not the type, but if it were my 'little brother' messing up like this, I'd toss face and step up too."
Myeong Horim frowned.
"Face? That's not the issue. Little Brother Namgung's fault is clear, so…."
"I apologize."
Myeong Horim startled, looking at Namgung Hyeon, who had approached the training ground's edge and cupped his fists.
"I ordered Squad Leader Chu. It wasn't his mistake—it was my intent."
"W-what?!"
"I wanted to end this gathering spectacularly. But yesterday rattled me, and my anger lingered. Knowing it wasn't Young Master Yeon's fault, I vented my remaining rage on him."
The crowd gaped. Namgung Hyeon was apologizing to Yeon Hojeong. Even admitting he'd ordered Chuseong.
"As the host clan's representative, who must be purest and upright, I have no words, even ten mouths. I sincerely apologize to Young Master Yeon here and now."
It could've ended quietly if he'd stayed put, but he confessed the truth outright.
Everyone stared at Namgung Hyeon, dumbfounded.
He looked up at Yeon Hojeong with trembling eyes. Yeon Hojeong gazed down with a chilling smile.
"So please forgive my wrong…."
What his brother had done.
"And grant absolution."
Shut your mouth.
Watching Namgung Hyeon bow politely, Yeon Hojeong spoke.
"No."