Please Grant Us Military Service! - 4
A historic incident had erupted. A letter arrived in the hands of the Pojeongsa, declaring that every warrior of a single family wished to enlist en masse, and that they would even donate all the lands they held to the state.
"I never imagined they'd go this far."
This colossal declaration of surrender was enough to fluster even the Pojeongsa. There was a limit to unconditional surrender, but this was tantamount to dismantling their own history and identity as a murim clan with their own hands.
Of course, even back in the days when murim was untouchable by the state, there had been individuals from murim clans or sects who threw themselves into government service. But an entire clan surrendering wholesale like this? It was unprecedented in history. Sure, there might be high-ranking officials from the Namgung family or Wudang, but you'd never see the entire Namgung family or all of Wudang rolling up as common soldiers.
'Can we even call them murim anymore?'
The family that had presented this artistic masterpiece of surrender to the Pojeongsa was the Myo family. It was a clan renowned enough that the Pojeongsa himself called it "a fairly well-known murim clan within Fujian."
Considering that Fujian murim was on the fringes even within the Central Plains murim, and that Fuzhou was Fujian's heartland, it was essentially the top—or at least near-top—murim power in Fujian.
Yet this family had applied to enlist en masse?
Murim suffered under state suppression because they failed to fulfill their duties as warriors. But was there any duty more ironclad than national defense?
Murim was called murim precisely because it stood apart from the state. But was there any group more firmly under state control than the military?
'They're just local gentry now.'
No matter how he turned it over in his mind, the Pojeongsa could no longer call the Myo family murim. They were simply a local powerhouse overflowing with excessive patriotism—too much so for the state to suppress without hesitation.
"My lord."
"Speak, Jwa-cheom Do-eosa."
"First, why don't you speak with the Myo family head? A man of such loyal and righteous zeal would surely be deeply moved if Your Excellency praised him personally."
The Pojeongsa nodded at my words. Having accepted such a surrender, treating the Myo family with disdain would ensure no other murim clan ever surrendered to the state again. If total devotion led only to contempt, who would bow to the government? Better to endure suppression and live off ancestral legacies.
Besides, the Myo family had now redefined itself not as a murim clan, but as local gentry. Suppressing a murim clan drew shrugs of "Well, they're murim." But cracking down on local elites would spark cries of "The state's preying on civilians!" It would unsettle ordinary landowners who'd passed exams and played the magnate. That would be a disaster—if local powers joined murim on the suppression list, the nation would crumble.
"Well, I'll be. The current head is young, but I didn't expect such resolve."
The Pojeongsa chuckled wryly as he drafted the summons for the Myo family head. Still, his delight seemed to outweigh his surprise.
Myo Un-taek, head of the Myo family. Still young, he hadn't breached the super peak wall, but whispers said a small trigger could propel him there. Rather than expanding the wealth piled up by his ancestors, he'd chosen maintenance to avoid the state's gaze—a shrewd head.
Peak realm at the cusp meant talent; dodging scrutiny meant street smarts. Had he not been murim-born, he'd have forged deep ties with local officials.
"The Myo family's cur comes to see the Pojeongsa, my lord!"
Whoa.
My suspicions solidified the moment I saw Myo Un-taek call himself a "cur." This man wasn't murim—he was born to be commonplace local gentry, or even a commoner who'd rise to greatness. The resolve to offer his entire clan, the humility to debase himself thus—it was the fate of success in anything.
"Rise. I called you to see your face—if you grovel like that, I'll feel slighted."
"Forgive me, my lord! This fool failed to grasp your profound intent!"
The Pojeongsa finally cracked a smile at Myo Un-taek's swift rise. The head of Fujian's top murim clan prostrating before a state official—this could be spun as the Pojeongsa's achievement, earning nods from capital elders: "That fellow gets results." It was grounds for a promotion to the capital.
"What say you, Jwa-cheom Do-eosa? This is a true warrior who's given everything for the realm's peace."
His tone warm and benevolent, the Pojeongsa addressed me—perhaps to introduce me, a central inspector satisfied with the Myo surrender.
"A hero brimming with valor and spirit. Seeing such a man makes the trip to Fujian worthwhile."
"Th-the Jwa-cheom Do-eosa, my lord!"
Myo Un-taek, who'd been stealing glances, bowed sharply upon recognizing me. With Fujian's top official and a central heavyweight present, his fate—and his clan's—hung on this audience.
'It's already decided.'
Truth be told, the Myo family's treatment was settled long ago. I'd summoned him out of curiosity—what kind of man makes such a call?—and to praise that bold resolve.
'Looks harmless enough.'
Even bowed, his darting eyes betrayed him. That was enough. This confirmed the Myo surrender was straightforward—no schemes. Just buckling under pressure with flair.
"It's a pity to have such a hero serve as a mere foot soldier. Even untrained conscripts earn rank through experience—yet this man is peak realm."
Thus began the rehearsed act with the Pojeongsa.
"Indeed, Jwa-cheom Do-eosa has a point. A peak warrior and clan head starting as a grunt—what greater waste?"
"Why not grant him an official post? His warriors all crave military service—let him lead them as commander."
"Excellent. That enables efficient command. My thanks for the fine idea, Jwa-cheom Do-eosa."
Promoting Myo Un-taek from grunt to officer. Assigning his warriors under him for convenience. The state could afford such favors for voluntary surrenderers. Besides, mixing trained warriors with green recruits spelled trouble.
"Of course, military matters fall to the Provincial Commandant—but his thinking aligns. He favors heroes, being a warrior himself."
"In that case, shouldn't Your Excellency gift this hero something too?"
"Haha, does it come to that? I misspoke."
Having eased military burdens, now administrative perks.
"You."
"Yes, my lord!"
"You've donated your ancestral lands to the state—a commendable act. But you must retain enough for ancestral rites, no?"
Rising, the Pojeongsa approached and clapped Myo Un-taek's shoulder.
"We'll return seven-tenths. You'll also get authority to train your subordinates—give it your all."
"My deepest gratitude, my lord! I'll never forget this grace!"
At the massive cashback, Myo Un-taek bowed repeatedly. No longer civilians but soldiers—yet with command. Lands surrendered, but three-tenths salvaged, plus training rights.
Training rights. With Myo warriors under him, it greenlit recruiting civilians as disciples.
'More sect than clan now.'
A structure like a sect, accepting outsiders. Overkill for a mere family—but as inaugural voluntary total surrenderers, they deserved it. Lavish rebates would stir other murim clans.
From this day, the Myo family was no more—it was the Myo Sword Sect.
The shocking news of the Myo family's evolution into the Myo Sword Sect, with its head becoming a Fujian commander, split Fujian murim down the middle. Half urged immediate surrender to ride the wave. Half cautioned that latecomers must offer more lavishly, since the Myos had given all for such rewards.
'Either way, surrender it is.'
Radicals or cautious—outcome the same. Myo Un-taek had done a number on them.
"To get such treatment, they had to give everything. Murim's karma weighs heavy."
Ak I-yeon, witnessing it all, offered a bitter assessment.
Spot on. Special treatment for pioneers; lesser fanfare wouldn't have earned it. Just "handy subordinates acquired"—and done.Such was the gulf between the state and the murim—the trust between them was extremely low, they had to gut themselves for a nod.
That was Daesong today. Decades of hatred and distrust, entrenched.
'Can't live like this forever.'
I sighed inwardly. Strings attached, contingencies, surprises—just to snag one clan. The state needed endless pretexts to even try allying with murim.
Even here in Fujian, without the bandit purge and Cheongsan-dae launch, would they have accepted the Myos? Pure waste of admin and time. Inefficient, even if results pleased.
But what choice? Without this, murim stayed unusable forever.
"...By the way, I-yeon."
"Yes, young master."
"What's that you've been writing?"
Ak I-yeon, who'd been scribbling away, beamed.
"You said Jo-ma records. I'm compiling forces we've contacted, those we plan to, and the quiet ones."
A fine historian in the making—I nodded reflexively. Records matter, after all. Indeed.