Armed Ruffians
The entrance to the foremost clan of Anhwi Province was magnificent. Though the Damuk Family could be counted among the province's top martial houses, reality was that it paled in comparison when placed beside the Namgung. Towering pillars stabbed toward the heavens, crowned by a plaque inscribed with Cheongan Namgung. The warriors guarding beneath it exuded an aura as sharp as tempered blades.
But something even more worth seeing was there as well: the crestfallen expression on the face of the gate guard the moment he recognized Namgung Gijin.
"S-Senior Elder! Where have you been?"
"Ah. I went to pick up my grandkids."
"Pardon? What do you... No, this isn't the time. Family Head! Family Head! The Senior Elder is back!"
The guard on duty vanished inside with impressive speed. It was a perfectly natural reaction. Just the day before, the current family head, Namgung Myeong, had rushed out barefoot to bow and welcome back the clan's supreme expert, who had vanished twenty years ago only to return after achieving hwan-gol-tal-tae.
"N-Now that you're back, Senior Uncle, please relieve this heavy burden from my shoulders."
The moment Namgung Gijin returned, Namgung Myeong had eagerly offered to yield the family head position. Originally, Namgung Gijin had been slated to take it, but he'd abruptly left, leaving the younger Namgung Myeong to assume the role at a tender age almost by accident.
But Namgung Gijin shook his head vigorously, as if it were nonsense.
"You handle that nonsense. I'll just take care of the elders' council."
"......"
Even as the man declared he'd meddle without taking any real responsibility—like some backroom old fogey—Family Head Namgung Myeong couldn't dare retort. Namgung Gijin's temper was infamous, and the memory of getting thrashed for objecting twenty years ago was still fresh.
"...As you wish, Senior Uncle. But please don't leave us again. Lead us from now on."
"Got it. Got it."
After that exchange, all the Namgung retainers gathered to pay respects to the family elder and reacquaint themselves with his face. Many had never seen him before, since it had been twenty years.
And the next dawn, upon receiving the report, Namgung Myeong clutched the back of his neck.
"What? He's gone again?"
The man had vanished without a trace the very next morning after greetings the previous day. One could only imagine the family head's bewilderment. The guards on duty had taken an earful for no reason.
Now that he was back, the guard—fearing another disappearance—had hurried off to fetch the family head.
Yeon and the kids stared blankly at the scene, and Namgung Gijin chuckled, beckoning them with a wave.
"Haha. No need to wait. Let's go in."
As Namgung Gijin naturally crossed the Namgung gates, the children followed. The moment they took that single step, their jaws dropped just like when they'd first seen the Damuk estate.
"Whoa..."
The grounds seemed at least twice as vast, filled with ancient halls that felt utterly different from the Damuk's. While the Damuk's screamed of flashy new growth and ornamentation, the Namgung exuded the solemn weight only time-tested giants could possess. Solidly built without excess, the structures supported one another in perfect order, with wide paths between them bustling with busy warriors.
Then—
Dudududu!
A dust cloud rose amid them as a group barreled toward them at terrifying speed—visible even to Yeon.
"Senior Eldeeeer! No, Uncleeeer!"
"Heh. Goodness."
Watching the family head charge over without a shred of dignity made Namgung Gijin grimace a bit, embarrassed for the kids to see.
But to Yeon and the children, it was a refreshing sight. They'd grown sick of the Damuk trio's arrogance and pompous airs.
"You said you wouldn't leave, then vanish after one day—what am I supposed to do?!"
The family head closed the distance in a blink and scolded, but Namgung Gijin ignored him and said his piece.
"These are my grandkids. Take good care of them, Family Head. Especially the boys—I'll teach them the Namgung sword myself."
For an instant, Yeon saw it: a bewildered What nonsense is this? flash across the stern family head's face before vanishing.
"...? No. What do you mean all of a sudden? Grandkids? You've never even married—how do you suddenly have grandkids? And teaching the Namgung sword?"
Flustered by the unexpected words, Namgung Myeong pressed, but with onlookers around, Namgung Gijin's brows furrowed at the informal tone.
"Why ask so many questions? Grandkids are grandkids, and if I say I'll teach them, I will. They're rare talents these days— it'll be a boon for our Namgung. See to it properly."
"......"
Namgung Myeong was speechless. "Teaching the Namgung sword" meant raising them as core warriors, not outer sect. It was tantamount to admitting outsiders into the elite group bearing the Namgung name—what could be weightier? Such matters required consultation with the family head, as a matter of course.
Namgung Myeong gathered his thoughts and glanced at the kids shrinking behind Namgung Gijin before asking.
"Uncle—no, Senior Elder, as you know, to become core warriors, they must bear the Namgung name. But—"
"Ah, right. Late with introductions. Kids, say hello. This is Namgung Myeong, head of the Namgung Family."
"Ah, no, that's—"
Namgung Gijin cut him off and shoved them forward. Namgung Myeong frantically waved it away, but Yeon and the kids stepped up first.
"I am Yeon. It is an honor to meet the head of the hegemon of Anhwi, the Cheongan Namgung Family."
"Heh... Well, alright."
The others couldn't match Yeon's smoothness, so they just echoed her closing line.
"It is an honor to meet the head of the Cheongan Namgung Family."
"Heh. Yes, good to meet you. But that's not the point—"
"Right. The girl here is Namgung Yeon, and the rest are Namgung Wang, Namgung Chun, Namgung Wol, and Namgung Seok."
Namgung Myeong's body stiffened.
"...Pardon? How can kids I've never seen bear the Namgung name? Some collateral branch I don't know about?"
"We just decided that. Sheesh, how long are you gonna keep your senior uncle standing? Let's head in."
"Un-Uncle! Uncle!"
As Namgung Gijin strode past the family head, Namgung Myeong's plaintive cry echoed down the path. Yeon and the kids stifled laughs and trailed after him obediently.
So that's why he asked their names on the way.
Yeon hadn't expected him to use them like that when Namgung Gijin had inquired about Wangcho, Chunbong, Samwol, and Seok en route.
Now Yeon understood: in a martial clan, a surname was proof of one's worth—and acceptance as one of their own. Not just for her, but equal benefits for all the kids. Only then could she exhale in true relief.
Of course, one thing needed clarifying.
"Grandfather."
"Hm?"
"What do you mean by teaching my brothers the Namgung sword?"
Namgung Gijin smiled warmly.
"Ah, that? No need to worry. This grandfather will make your brothers outstanding warriors. Far stronger than that Damuk Jeong punk. Sound good?"
To other martial artists, it'd be a golden opportunity worth killing for—direct instruction in Namgung swordsmanship from the Glorious Sword Lord himself. Even within the clan, few received such favor, and now it was going to these kids he'd just met.
It was an excessive repayment for his debt to Yeon, but Namgung Gijin had his reasons. Gratitude and affection for Yeon were primary, but that single move she'd shown earlier played a part too. In that situation, slipping past his eyes and disrupting his gang-gi with some incomprehensible technique—it influenced his decision.
Plus the Go-induced enlightenment. What if other Namgung retainers achieved the same? With her unknowable potential, he wanted her close to observe. And housing her precious kids under the Namgung roof would preempt any unforeseen threats.
One might call it calculating for someone repaying a favor, but as a clan elder steering the family, it was natural.
But Yeon shook her head.
"No. My brothers shouldn't learn the sword."
"Eh? What do you mean? Not to brag, but... learning swordsmanship from this grandfather isn't an opportunity that comes easily."
Not just Namgung Gijin—Wangcho and Samwol's eyes widened in protest too.
"Yeah, we're gonna learn it. I wanna be a warrior like Grandfather."
"Right. So we never suffer humiliation from scum like Damuk Jeong again."
Yeon shot them a gentle glare.
"No."
"Why!"
"What's the point of swinging a sword? Not fighting is best. Live as an armed ruffian and you'll die young—don't you know that? If you wanna get yourself killed somewhere, cut ties with me and go ahead."
"But if we're super strong, we won't die."
"Especially you, Samwol brother—you're obvious. Can't control your hot blood, charge in recklessly, and take a blade. Like earlier. You have no idea how scared I was. Huh? Die like that, and I won't even hold a funeral. Got it?"
"Uh... no, that's..."
Samwol and Wangcho were flustered, speechless at Yeon's unprecedented firmness—she'd always cheered them on with a smile, no matter what.
"......"
And the face of the "armed ruffian counted among Jianghu's top ten"—who'd been quietly listening—flushed red.
It was true, but calling him an armed ruffian to his face? A bit much.
Whatever face Namgung Gijin made, Yeon stood firm.
"No. Absolutely not. And Grandfather—you mustn't offer to teach my brothers the sword either."
"Uh... er... Right. Sorry."
Namgung Gijin apologized reflexively, cleared his throat awkwardly to hide his embarrassment, and led them to the kids' quarters.
The children, granted an entire floor of a grand, spacious hall, excitedly dashed about opening doors. Left alone, they'd amuse themselves all day just with that. Watching, Yeon beckoned them over.
"Come here."
"Okay."
They instantly became model listeners, clustering around her. It was cute how they eyed her warily after their earlier grumbling.
Yeon's gaze swept over Wangcho, Chunbong, Seok, and Samwol. The first kids she'd met in this world—her brothers. They'd treated her like blood family despite her awakening in a strange place, teaching her how to survive in the Central Plains. No matter how hungry, they'd fed their siblings first—these kind-hearted boys. Now, Yeon resolved to protect them.
"I don't know what you brothers think, but I hate warriors."
Chunbong's innocent eyes widened.
"Why? A warrior saved us from beggar life, and one brought us here."
"Think carefully. That Hun... uncle probably meant well at first. But even when the young master tormented us, he only said a few words—didn't stop it outright."
Yeon hadn't seen it that way initially, but today's events let her view Damuk Hun objectively.
"And he tried to hand me off as a concubine to some stranger."
"But he said that was a good thing..."
As Chunbong glanced nervously, Samwol spoke up for Yeon, scolding him.
"Good or bad, it's the person's choice—not someone else's to decide. Yeon's not a slave, right? Chunbong, you'd like being forced to marry some rich old hag for money? Want me to arrange it?"
"Ah... no, not that. Sorry."
Chunbong scratched his head and shut up. Yeon spoke slowly.
"The reason? We're weaker than them. Think about today. The Damuk are weaker than the Namgung, so we could come here. If it were reversed, we might've died there—Grandfather and us too."
"......"
"That's why I hate warriors. Some pity us, some repay favors and bestow things. But if we're weaker, they can discard us anytime for their gain. I felt that today. So I hate warriors—no, those armed ruffians."
"...And so?"
Yeon's eyes turned to Wangcho. Even Seok, about to snicker, fell silent at his uncharacteristically serious face.
Yeon looked at them all and spoke deliberately.
"I'll cultivate my own power so these Jianghu martial folk can never look down on us. I'll protect you all—and make sure no other weaklings suffer like us."
"So you have to learn martial arts too?"
Samwol's obvious question drew a faint smile from Yeon.
"No. My power isn't martial arts."