The Birth of Changcheon Squad

"Why are you two brothers following me?" Namgung Woo stopped in his tracks and looked back. The pair trailing him at a distance exchanged awkward smiles.

Yang Kvae scratched the back of his head, unusually hesitant. "W-well, like I said. I want to follow you, little brother."

Apparently frustrated by his brother's evasive answer, Yang Jeong cut in. "My brother is a bit slow, young hero."

"What did you just call me, you bastard?"

"Young hero, you are our benefactor. And… you are also a pioneer who walks the path of martial arts while possessing the same lightning qi that we do."

Even before leaving Muan County, the Yang brothers had expressed their desire to follow Namgung Woo. He had refused them. It wasn't that he disliked the pair. Though their martial realms were far below his own, they possessed the worldly wisdom and rogue experience he lacked. They could have complemented each other perfectly.

Yet Namgung Woo had turned them away because of the unrelated family burden tied to his name.

The Dokgo Clan's execution order hanging over all warriors bearing the Namgung surname. For some reason, the righteous Murim had failed to protect the Namgungs. The Dokgo Clan—called the greatest of the unorthodox factions. Though no one had claimed the Namgung name for some time, rendering their pursuit order dormant, their commands ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were relentless. The Dokgo Clan turned their blades on the Namgungs and anyone who aided them.

If I'm not careful, these two will get dragged into it too.

Namgung Woo knew the brothers had proposed fighting together at the closed gate out of consideration for him. But was that reason enough to reveal his circumstances? He couldn't know whether they were prepared to shoulder his burdens alongside him, so he had pushed them away.

Yet the Yang brothers showed no sign of giving ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up.

"You said there was a reason we couldn't join you."

"Yes."

"I believe the reason you cannot reveal it is because you lack trust in us. I admit that. Entrusting such faith to people you've only known for a few days is no easy thing. Therefore, we will demonstrate our sincerity first."

At Yang Jeong's words, Yang Kvae pulled something from his robes.

"This is the secret manual of the internal energy heart method we practice."

A spark of interest flashed in Namgung Woo's eyes.

Internal energy heart methods were the very cornerstone of martial arts. Ever since internal cultivation had become the mainstream over external training, heart methods had become the most vital discipline. The proper path was to accumulate qi through a heart method and then learn compatible techniques. That was why ninety-nine out of a hundred arts called divine were internal energy heart methods—because they carried far greater importance than any other study.

The brothers were offering to share the very foundation of their martial learning.

Had their internal energy been as mediocre as that of ordinary wanderers, Namgung Woo might have dismissed it. But strangely, their cultivation was so outstanding that even the great righteous sects would covet it. In essence, the brothers were staking everything ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they possessed.

"If one knows the formulas of the heart method, one can discern the intent and imagery dwelling within the qi, as well as the acupoints used for circulation. You know better than anyone, young hero, that this makes it simple to devise a countermeasure."

"Well, of course…"

"This is our resolution. Please accept it."

"Honestly, we don't think our arts hold much value to someone like you, young hero…"

When Yang Jeong spoke with a trace of uncertainty, Yang Kvae jabbed him sharply in the ribs with his elbow—a warning not to interrupt while their leader examined the manual.

"It's genuine."

Namgung Woo's body and senses, which perfectly reflected the settings of Chukrok Murim, confirmed the manual's authenticity with a single glance. He handed it back to the brothers.

"…The sun will set soon. Let's make camp and talk properly."

Crackle. Crackle, crackle.

The sound of burning firewood wove through the quiet night air, lending it a touch of charm.

Night possessed a strange magic. It coaxed people into revealing secrets from the deepest corners of their hearts—secrets they would never share with anyone, anywhere—as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sitting before a warm, beautifully flickering flame only amplified that magic.

Gazing at the dancing fire, the Yang brothers poured out their lives. Calm Yang Jeong led the tale while Yang Kvae interjected with enthusiastic color.

"Our father was a wanderer like us."

"Third-rate, though."

"But he was a good man. Even as a rogue, he chased righteousness rather than mere coin."

"He claimed it was because he came from the Hyeongsan Sect's outer family, but who could believe that?"

"Still, his good deeds weren't meaningless. He encountered a great fortuitous opportunity."

"That opportunity was our heart method—Thunderbolt True Qi."

Thunderbolt True Qi. A heart method that literally wielded the power of lightning.

"Before the absolute masters who now rule the Murim were established during the chaotic era—before the blood cult's upheaval that triggered that chaos—the supreme experts of that earlier time were called the Murim Seventeen Absolutes."

"Thunderbolt True Qi was the signature profound art of one of them: the Thunderbolt Master."

"It is the secret teaching of a previous generation's expert."

A previous generation's previous generation. If a generation was the span in which a person raised children and passed on their legacy, it amounted to roughly fifty years. In the future Namgung Woo had come from, generations had shrunk to decade-long units, but in this world a single generation usually spanned twenty to thirty years.

"However, the opportunity our father gained ended there. He could not connect with the Imperial Heaven God Force that had elevated the Thunderbolt Master to the ranks of the Murim Seventeen Absolutes."

So that's why.Namgung Woo finally understood the gap between the brothers' outstanding internal energy and their comparatively clumsy martial techniques.

"But as you know, young hero, lightning qi is an extremely difficult power to control… Most martial arts simply didn't suit us."

"Even if we had the comprehension of a grandmaster, we don't."

Namgung Woo paused their explanation and asked, "With a heart method of that caliber, couldn't you have joined a major sect?"

"We couldn't trust them."

"First-class experts are respected among wanderers, but major sects are crawling with Peak Realm masters. We worried they'd steal the manual and discard us. There was no guarantee they'd have arts suited to lightning qi, either."

"In fact, for the first few years we traveled as the Thunderbolt Master's successors, determined to find the Imperial Heaven God Force…"

"Ugh! Forget it, forget it. That was ages ago."

As their enthusiasm gradually cooled and they despaired that this was their limit, he had appeared. A master who saved their lives without seeking repayment, who cultivated lightning qi like them and had already reached a transcendent realm.

"There was no way we could give up."

"…It was a rope that barely reached us."

The brothers were desperate. They loved their father, but they refused to live and die as third- or second-rate wanderers like him. The burning desire to become true experts and race across the rivers and lakes still surged through their young blood.

Namgung Woo looked at the Thunderbolt True Qi manual the brothers had refused to take back. It was their heart. Their wish. Their hope.

If he harbored ill intentions and spread word across the gangho that the brothers possessed the Thunderbolt Master's arts, they would be torn apart by martial artists swarming like hyenas. Life for life. The brothers had placed their lives in Namgung Woo's hands.

"If you're going this far, it would only be proper for me to explain why I must refuse you."

Yang Kvae muttered under his breath, "Isn't that a bit weak?" but Yang Jeong immediately clapped a hand over his brother's mouth so Namgung Woo could continue.

Namgung Woo chuckled at their antics and confessed his secret.

"My name isn't Nam Woo."

Using an alias was common, so the brothers weren't particularly surprised. But when they heard his true name, they could no longer remain calm.

"Namgung Woo. That is my name."

Yang Jeong's eyes widened in stunned silence. Yang Kvae, on the other hand, licked his dry lips and asked, "Um… just in case—really, just in case—your surname is… Namgung?"

"Naturally."

When Namgung Woo confirmed it, Yang Kvae flared his nostrils wide and drew in a massive breath.

"Huuuuuuuup… Puuha…"

"Namgung… Now I understand. So that's why… of course…"

To Namgung Woo's eyes, Yang Jeong seemed lost in thoughts similar to those Song Chae-ji had once entertained. Yang Kvae, by contrast, was remarkably bold.

"Wow… I never imagined I'd meet a survivor of the Namgung Clan."

Despite his words, Yang Kvae's gaze toward Namgung Woo remained largely unchanged. There was no pity or sympathy for someone who had lost all his bloodline and was hunted by an execution order. Instead, it held a faint admiration for a man who had reached such heights despite those bleak circumstances.

"Aren't you afraid?"

The Dokgo Clan was the greatest of the unorthodox factions. While the world said they fell short of the imperial family that ruled the number one clan under heaven and the Heonwon Clan regarded as the greatest of the righteous sects, it also proved that—excluding those two powers—no other family could match them. And the Namgungs were being hunted by that very clan's execution order.

Yet the brothers' expressions showed none of the fear such news should inspire.

"We are ashamed," Yang Jeong said. "Ashamed that our resolve appeared so weak, and that we were pathetic enough to make you worry on our account."

"We've already entrusted our lives to you, little brother. The Dokgo Clan? Yeah, they're terrifying. Never seen them myself, but the rumors alone are nightmare fuel. But precisely because of that… I'm even more excited."

What did Namgung Woo look like in the brothers' eyes? The trust they offered felt strangely foreign to him. Had anyone ever placed such faith in him before?

Only two faces rose to mind. For Namgung Woo, who had been driven from harsh reality into the virtual world in search of hope, there had been few people worth missing.

Namgung Mae and Namgung Pung. In the Yang brothers, he glimpsed their shadows. That was why their trust felt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠both unfamiliar and yet not at all unpleasant.

That night, the three of them talked until dawn. Most of the conversation came from the brothers, but whenever Namgung Woo spoke, he did so willingly. All three were martial artists who carried the energy of nature within their bodies and raced after starlight. Staying up one night brought them no fatigue. Instead, their hearts brimmed with fulfillment at having gained comrades to walk the future with.

"Ah, Captain. Now that I think about it, we completely forgot to name our rogue squad."

As the dark night sky began to brighten with the blue light of dawn, Yang Kvae—who had finished preparing to depart—spoke up. Their speech had changed considerably after establishing their hierarchy the night before.

At Yang Kvae's awkward honorifics, Namgung Woo fell into thought.

The three of them would now move as one organization. It was still a humble beginning—a rogue squad of only three people. But they all knew this was the first step toward a far greater future.

"Please bestow the name, Captain," Yang Jeong said, stepping closer.

The captain of the yet-unnamed squad was naturally him. To name something was to give it meaning. Therefore, only one name came to Namgung Woo's mind.

The blue sky in the east that announced the beginning of spring. Gazing up at the beautifully colored azure heavens that seemed to bless the road ahead, Namgung Woo spoke their squad's name.

"Changcheon Squad. That will be our name."

Upon reaching Beijing, Pyeong Cho-yul was in the midst of concluding this particular escort mission.

"Excellent. The Yo-pyeong Express Agency's reputation precedes it, and now I see exactly why."

"Haha, hearing such praise fills this Pyeong with boundless joy."

Pyeong Cho-yul stood extremely tense before his client. The man before him was, without question, the most overwhelming figure he had encountered in his entire life.

The emperor had only just turned thirty, and his authority was absolute. Yet beneath that supreme dignity, there was one more person feared by those who wielded real power. Secret rumors whispered that someone else ruled from behind the scenes.

Pyeong Cho-yul was one of the few who had heard those rumors. A man who drew high court officials to his side as close aides and planted his own agents even within the palace, moving them as freely as his own limbs.

"By the way… may I ask what you intend to use that for…?"

At Pyeong Cho-yul's cautious question, the man's faint smile vanished completely. The suddenly chilling atmosphere made Pyeong Cho-yul's legs go weak. Then the man smiled faintly once more and spoke in a calm, almost recitative tone.

"To give the world a startling surprise."

The man who spoke so playfully was Lee Ja-ryong.