Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: I Spent the Night with the Murim Alliance Leader's Youngest Daughter
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Why was I born the eldest son?
It was a lingering regret that Namgoong Seon had always harbored.
Any heirs from prestigious families who dreamed of inheriting their houses would foam at the mouth and call it nonsense, but to Namgoong Seon, at least, it was a serious issue.
From childhood, he had felt an inexplicable thirst somewhere deep inside.
A harmonious family, abundant wealth.
It was a life anyone would envy, yet he couldn't feel truly alive.
The position of eldest son and the expectations that came with it.
Namgoong Seon's life had been solely focused on meeting his family's expectations.
It wasn't difficult.
Because Namgoong Seon could accomplish anything with ease.
Successor training was just like homework to him, and he simply followed the instructions of the family elders without complaint.
Then one day.
The first time he gripped a sword, he realized it.
The thirst that no delicious food, no valuable possessions, no praise from the elders could quench.
Only the sword could fill it.
Namgoong Seon loved the sword.
When practicing swordsmanship, he couldn't contain his joy.
How to swing the sword in which direction depending on the situation, how to circulate internal energy according to each stance, what the profound mysteries of the Rising Sword Technique were.
Time spent pondering such things was his hobby.
Thanks to inheriting his father Namgoong Hyeok's blood so strongly, he had a talent for swordsmanship.
His skills improved day by day.
Thus, everything besides swordsmanship started to feel like a chore.
'I just want to spend my life honing my sword.'
The position of eldest son was the obstacle.
Legitimacy. A life lived to continue the family line.
Namgoong Seon understood the responsibilities placed upon him more deeply than anyone.
If only I had been the youngest instead.
If not for the role of successor, I could have leisurely practiced the sword and lived happily.
But he couldn't just throw away the expectations directed at him.
Namgoong Seon feared his father.
Namgoong Hyeok had never once raised his voice at him.
Not out of leniency toward his eldest son, but because Namgoong Seon had never failed to meet expectations.
The obedient and diligent firstborn.
Each time his father patted his shoulder and said he'd done well, Namgoong Seon felt an unspoken pressure.
The thought of his gentle father's face twisting in anger was terrifying even to imagine.
'Do I really have to live my whole life just following orders like this?'
Namgoong Seon's disillusionment with this life stemmed largely from an incident at the recent family meeting.
The man who appeared claiming to be Yeonhui's fiancé, Yi Se-woong.
-Oppose it unconditionally.
His father's command.
To Namgoong Seon, it was absolute law.
So he criticized Yi Se-woong and picked fights with him.
He had to incite the family members and deliberately belittle him.
Even though it truly didn't sit right with him.
'If they're happy together, why should I...?'
Perhaps it was a compensatory mentality.
Since he was working so hard for the family, he wanted his siblings to live freely at least.
I can't help being the eldest, but as long as you're happy, that's enough.
He couldn't understand why his father insisted on blocking the youngest's engagement.
So of course his words came out all wrong.
He could only stammer in response to Yi Se-woong's sharp retorts.
'I'm jealous.'
Yi Se-woong boldly confronting his father.
It was a scene he could barely even imagine in his dreams.
Fighting Ghost.
Perhaps because he was a wandering ronin who roamed the world.
Namgoong Seon envied Yi Se-woong's freedom.
And at the same time.
'Why only you?'
He felt a twinge of envy for that boldness to stand up to Namgoong Hyeok.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 'Nice.'
The training hall was peaceful today as well.
It had started as a way to avoid the discomfort of idleness, but it turned out to suit him surprisingly well.
'Is this why they raise disciples?'
Now he could somewhat understand his master's feelings.
In a way, it was revealing his own secrets, but the sense of accomplishment when a disciple succeeded as taught was immense.
It also helped organize his own insights.
'Unexpected benefits too.'
Time to get to work.
There was no better excuse to avoid people.
Before, he'd had to rush over whenever the family elders called, but now he had a legitimate reason to refuse.
Now that he was at a level where even breathing earned him favor from the Namgung Family members.
The training hall was his only sanctuary.
"Who told you to perform the family's martial arts like this?"
A low but anger-filled shout.
The intruder into his cozy nest was none other than Namgoong Seon.
When he first entered the hall, I'd thought it was just a routine inspection, but the moment he saw Gwak Il, Namgoong Seon charged at him.
"Th-that..."
"Can't you answer properly?"
Namgoong Seon pressed him calmly.
The position of the Namgung Family's eldest son was intimidating even for an entry-level disciple to face.
Gwak Il stammered in panic before him.
"I was lacking and got the sequence of stances wrong."
"If you can't even execute stances at this level properly, there's no need for you to learn more."
Idiot.
He could have just said I told him to do it.
But Gwak Il took the blame himself.
Thinking he'd succeed in the Namgung Family.
"Brother, there seems to be a slight misunderstanding."
"This isn't your place to step in."
"Well, I am the one who taught Gwak Il."
"Ha, can't you even teach a single stance properly?"
"I did teach it properly..."
"What did you say?"
Namgoong Hyeok—no, Namgoong Seon glared at me with displeasure.
"Did you deliberately teach him the wrong stance?"
"It's just a minor change in order. Doesn't it matter during practice?"
"You dared alter the martial art created by Father for such a trivial reason?"
"I don't understand why you're nitpicking."
"Absurd."
What I'd taught Gwak Il was a minor adjustment.
Instead of circulating internal energy while executing the stance as before, gather it first then begin the stance.
For experts, it was as simple as breathing, but for beginners, it was difficult enough to hinder even entry, so I'd made the change.
Once accustomed, revert to the original order, of course.
To me, it was needless provocation.
Aren't we practicing precisely because we're not accustomed?
Namgoong Seon's reaction was overly sensitive.
As if he had to strictly adhere to what Namgoong Hyeok had set.
"In real combat, variations happen all the time. This is laughable compared to that."
"......"
"If you don't like my teaching method, how about sparring with me using the Flickering Thunder Sword Art?"
If it bothers you, fight me.
At this moment, I appreciated the barbaric Murim way of resolving disputes.
A duel.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Namgoong Seon was dumbfounded.
Anyone could see Yi Se-woong was clearly in the wrong.
He could just dismiss it as nonsense and report to his father.
But.
'I'm curious.'
His competitive spirit held his ankle.
Yi Se-woong's sword that withstood ten exchanges against his father.
What was the skill level of the Fighting Ghost who once stirred up the Murim world?
Thus, Namgoong Seon accepted the duel.
"I'll yield the first move. Come at me."
He could predict the Flickering Thunder Sword Art's sword path even with his eyes closed.
So he yielded the initiative.
Whoosh!
A sword slashing diagonally toward Namgoong Seon's chest.
The first stance of the Flickering Thunder Sword Art, Thunderbolt, which he'd seen ad nauseam.
Thwack!
Namgoong Seon tried to lightly parry it upward, but Yi Se-woong suddenly altered the path to target his right shoulder, leaving him defenseless. Even with a wooden sword, the numbing pain crushed his shoulder.
'A variation from the start?'
It was an unexpected move.
Stances were important to execute in their prescribed manner. Each movement had an optimal internal energy circulation. Changing it clumsily to exploit a gap made it hard to unleash proper power.
Stances were verified over countless years as 'the correct way.'
Thus, Namgoong Seon had lived striving for perfect execution.
Thwack! Thud!
Three more exchanges followed immediately.
He took losses on two moves.
The swordsmanship Yi Se-woong wielded was the Flickering Thunder Sword Art, yet not quite.
'Only traces remain.'
Yi Se-woong was freely modifying the Flickering Thunder Sword Art's stances as he pleased. Suddenly twisting a vertical upward slash to target the side, feinting a thrust then switching to a slash. He ignored any prescribed procedures for the stances entirely. To Namgoong Seon, it looked like wild swinging.
'Why can't I block it?'
All over the place.
Yi Se-woong only partially adhered to the forms of the Flickering Thunder Sword Art, moving according to his own swordsmanship.
Freely twisting the directions prescribed by the martial art.
Yet it looked so natural.
One inevitably gets influenced just from clashing swords.
To counter Yi Se-woong's erratic attacks, Namgoong Seon gradually began incorporating variations himself. For someone who had devoted his life to perfectly realizing stances, it was unthinkable.
While blocking rapid incoming strikes, Namgoong Seon unwittingly shattered the framework he'd upheld.
'This feeling is new.'
Clack!
The explosive sound of wooden swords colliding. To the current Namgoong Seon, it rang joyfully.
Clack!
Altering the fixed sword path to fit the situation. Abandoning the completion of stance forms, twisting them to his will.
Clack!
It felt good.
With the clash of wooden swords, something in his heart shattered.
Expectations.
Responsibility.
Things he had to uphold.
His father's gaze upon him.
None of it mattered now.
'Everything flows as I will it.'
The number of clashes between Yi Se-woong and Namgoong Seon's swords increased. Their blades wove through the air without yielding an inch.
'Right now, I'm free.'
A life following only the teachings of the family elders.
It resembled that of an ascetic monk.
Now, Namgoong Seon had cast off the shackles binding him.
'Am I gaining enlightenment?'
With fierce blue eyes, Namgoong Seon swung his sword as if entranced.
A hint of demonic fervor was even perceptible.
Watching him, Yi Se-woong intuited it.
Namgoong Seon was overcoming his inner demon right now.
He didn't know what had stirred chaos in his heart, but if not now, he might never shake it off.
'Should I just back off and close my eyes?'
What if he withdrew his sword?
The enlightenment rising from intense combat would sink in an instant. Somehow, he could picture Namgoong Seon saying, 'Thanks to you, I gained enlightenment!'
Stopping now would end it.
'Bullshit.'
Orphan, disciple, gatekeeper, Fighting Ghost, Namgung Family son-in-law.
Numerous names pointed to him, but Yi Se-woong's essence was that of a martial artist. To gain enlightenment, a martial artist regrets nothing even if death comes tomorrow.
He couldn't hinder one climbing to a higher realm.
'And I don't like losing.'
Defeat was humiliation.
Opportunities to clash with such a strong opponent were rare.
Yet lose?
No need to lose sleep over it.
'Let's play for real.'
Judging right and wrong no longer mattered.
The two men simply hungered for victory as their swords collided.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Indeed. You have the right to say such things. I acknowledge it."
"......"
"I won't interfere anymore. A loser must follow without words."
The duel, which had started awkwardly, ended with my victory.
Namgoong Seon breathed heavily.
Despite the defeat, not a trace of regret showed on his face. If anything, he looked relieved.
"As payment for the lesson, here's some advice."
"What is it?"
"Be wary of Father. He gave permission, but he still doesn't fully approve of you."
Namgoong Seon whispered quietly into my ear.
Are you sure you should be saying this?
Before I could retort, Namgoong Seon left the training hall.