Two Brothers
Living life, you sometimes make a slip of the tongue.
Even so, since it's a mistake, an apology usually lets it slide—but every so often you run into someone for whom that simply doesn't work.
The lord of the Moyong Clan. The most stubborn human I knew.
No excuse would get through to him. In that case, I might as well take the high ground of justification and charge straight in.
"Even if you dress it up with the prestige of the righteous path or the chance to wipe them out in one stroke, doesn't it ultimately mean you refuse to stop the tournament because it looks like your son will win?"
Despite the fact that the Blood Sect bastards would never simply let the greatest event of the orthodox factions pass by, here he was proposing that everyone shoulder the risk for his own interests.
As I boldly fired back even under the subtle pressure a master radiated, Moyong Cheon twitched his eyebrows and fixed me with a hard stare.
"…Boss, have you lost it? Getting on the Moyong Clan's bad side is going to be a headache."
Ilhong whispered in a rush, startled. But if it was bad blood we were talking about, I'd already had my fill of that.
And it hadn't been much—at worst, a sword in the gut and a shove off a cliff.
"I haven't lost it."
"Then why are you doing this?"
Watching him crush Moyong Cheonghye under the family's prestige made me wonder whether he'd browbeaten her the same way into doing "that thing" back in my day, and it pissed me off something fierce.
"You called yourself Un-o-o-hyeop, was it?"
"Still Unchilsamhyeop."
"Right. Unchilsamhyeop."
Moyong Cheon quietly massaged the vein bulging at his temple.
He went on with the look of a man who had never expected some mere vagabond to climb up his ass like this.
"What gives you the guts to act out like this?"
A considerably angry face. That he—who had been cold even to his own son Moyong Cheongjin—was this swayed by emotion.
I had made this man angry. It was the first time I'd seen that look in thirteen years. Something about it felt strange.
"It isn't about guts. It's about preventing unnecessary sacrifices as fellow members of the righteous path."
The Blood Sect bastards had been buying up poison bombs and black powder left and right, hadn't they? Anyone could see they were preparing a large-scale terrorist attack—and we were just going to ignore it?
It went against my conscience, against the work of accumulating good karma.
And even if I hadn't known, to know and still leave the threat alone for the glory of his own child—was that any attitude for the leadership of the orthodox path to take?
"Do you even know what you're saying right now?"
"Yes. I think I have a pretty good idea."
"The tournament has already begun. And with so many people watching, to stop the event because we're afraid of the Blood Sect—the unorthodox alliance will mock us, and the honor of the righteous path will fall to the ground."
"Then what if the thing we fear actually happens? What crime did the commoners caught up in it commit? And if people are massacred, then the honor of the righteous path won't fall to the ground?"
Rather, there would be even more chaos, people saying so many had died at the headquarters of the righteous path.
Some of the elders who had been listening quietly nodded as if agreeing with me.
Especially the Murim Alliance Leader, who was fiddling with his sword sheath and looking at me with a strange light in his eyes.
If he stepped in to stop it himself, it would look exactly as Moyong Cheon said—like he was scheming to block a rival family's victory. Awkward.
But with a guy like me stepping up, he seemed both relieved and as if he were staring at some swollen-livered fool.
"Enough. No matter how much you blather, in the end there's no solid evidence, is there? Stopping an event like this on mere suspicion is out of the question."
No—I saw that blazing killing intent and unlimited murderous will toward the orthodox factions with my own two eyes.
I couldn't exactly spill that fact in front of the gentleman who had helped kill me as the Heavenly Killing Star, though.
"And just as it was for the Alliance Leader's son, the opportunity of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering must be given equally to everyone. You can't just flip your palm so easily because a variable appeared."
With those words, Moyong Cheon glared around with force in his eyes, as if telling people not to block his son's path out of baseless jealousy.
Those who had been cheering me on for stepping up in front of a Five Great Families' lord quickly averted their gazes left and right.
This man was the same as ever. Still looking as if the family's revival mattered most.
"Then what if your son doesn't win?"
"…You've been saying nothing but things I can't just let slide. Who else is going to win besides our Moyong Hwi?"
Moyong Cheon pushed one eyebrow up crookedly as if telling me not to talk nonsense.
"Young lady Jo Harang here also has a chance."
"Cough—huh? M-me, why?"
She reacted with a start, having been munching snacks from the Alliance Leader's room like a squirrel.
"And according to the bracket, I—who will face him in the next quarterfinals—also have a chance."
I thumped my own chest.
As expected, I would meet Moyong Hwi in the very next match. Other things aside, when it came to the swift swordplay Moyong Clan martial artists displayed, I had a fair bit of confidence.
"Now that I look, it's gone past absurd to the point of arrogance. For a mere vagabond, you're crossing the line far too much."
Given the place, Moyong Cheon ground his teeth quietly and narrowed his eyes.
The coward inside me—Moyong Cheongjin—tried to shrink drastically, a conditioned reflex at Moyong Cheon's subtle display of anger.
But I, Dan Mujin, wasn't about to just sit and watch that.
"Then how about a wager?"
"A wager? What kind of wager?"
"If your son is eliminated midway, then a tournament like this—you won't care how it goes, right? So when that time comes, stop the tournament and give some more thought to rooting out the Blood Sect."
If those bastards attacked, the highest probability was the finals, when the most people would be gathered.
And I knew this man's personality somewhat.
The moment his own child fell, he'd wish for the great event of the righteous path and everything else to go to hell.
"What I'm hearing is nothing but ridiculous talk. You seem full of yourself for recently defeating the Diamond Fist… I'll give my son a heads-up so he can set you straight in the next match."
But as if he had no intention of openly revealing such ulterior motives, Moyong Cheon only told me to prepare myself for the next match.
"And if you're a vagabond, learn a bit more about negotiation. This is a wager with nothing for me to gain."
Moyong Cheon clicked his tongue and tried to return to his seat.
Then someone who had been watching quietly stepped forward to block his path.
"However, Lord Moyong, I saw it clearly with my own two eyes as I chased after him. That bastard was definitely not Hye-seung, but something steeped entirely in malice."
Like a servant from some historical drama, Moyong Cheonghye insisted she had seen it clearly, eyes wide open.
Ah—anyone could tell from her face that she had seen something.
Had she instinctively felt something from slaughtering so many evil people?
"Cheonghye, how can you not call me Father and address me like a stranger?"
Moyong Cheon frowned as if he greatly disliked her form of address.
"Because right now I stand before you as the Vice Leader of the Demon Exterminating Squad hunting evil ones, Clan Lord."
She bowed her head deeply as if it were an official situation.
As Vice Leader, she couldn't just stand by knowing evil ones would run rampant.
At that sight, Moyong Cheon's feelings seemed to grow even more complicated.
"Fine. As that vagabond said, if Moyong Hwi loses, I will no longer raise objections to stopping the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering."
At those words, Moyong Cheonghye brightened, thinking the clan lord had listened to her.
"However, there is a condition. If that vagabond loses, and the Blood Sect does not launch a surprise attack either, then you too will return that position and come back to the family."
"…!"
Figures. He was always a man who looked after the family and his own interests first.
My former sister bit her lip hard.
"…Very well. I accept."
She looked at me once with eyes holding some expectation, then accepted the condition.
Then Moyong Cheon grinned as if that was that.
"Heh heh. Good. Better this way."
He sent me a look that was rather grateful.
Looking at it roughly, he thought my losing was a given—so he could make his son champion and also bring Moyong Cheonghye back into the family.
Truly like a father who cast out his child. No matter what the family wanted, he only felt satisfied when things went his way.
But this time, would it really go according to your will?
"Then I'll see you at the next match, Unchilsamhyeop."
"Yes. We'll see then."
A fate that kept getting tangled ironically even if I tried to avoid it.
Looks like the reasons I need to beat that Moyong Hwi bastard have doubled.
I burned with fighting spirit as I watched Moyong Cheon's retreating back leave the Alliance Leader's room.
With eyes blazing brightly, no less.
Standing before my eyes was Moyong Cheonghye, dressed as if ready to leave somewhere.
"Then, young hero. I'll leave my younger brother to you."
Leaving him to me here meant please beat him.
Originally he hadn't been such an arrogant, insolent fellow—but the second son had started going astray at some point, whether because of her.
Certainly that inflated ego looked like it needed a bit of air let out.
"Yes. I'll win somehow."
While teaching me how to deal with Moyong Clan martial artists, when a Demon Exterminating Squad staff member came and whispered, Moyong Cheonghye immediately took off to find Hye-seung.
It seemed traces of the fellow had been caught in the Murim Alliance's intelligence network spread throughout Shaanxi.
"But Boss, earlier when the Vice Leader drew her sword for the spar, you kept trembling—why was that?"
Ilhong, whose observation and memory were second to none, asked curiously while rolling a candy in her mouth.
"Have you ever been stabbed by the Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden's Heaven and Earth Wave Flash Sword?"
"No? Of course not."
"Then don't ask."
"Ehh."
Leaving the puzzled Ilhong behind, I tried following the afterimage flickering in my head—Moyong Cheonghye's Heaven and Earth Wave Flash Sword.
The Moyong Clan's ultimate technique, said to split even lightning when mastered to the extreme.
Swish!
The split end of the staff struck empty air at high speed. Literally bursting the air with lightning-like velocity.
Whoosh whoosh!
The split staff tip cut the wind, making a sound like a snake's tongue.
The staff handle that rushed forward strangely bent, then returned to my hand with a peculiar motion.
"It looks a bit different from what I saw earlier."
Ilhong expressed doubt, as if she had memorized the entire movement Moyong Cheonghye displayed.
"My goal right now isn't to copy that exactly."
My former sister had displayed it in front of me to let me familiarize my eyes with the danger and speed of the sword technique.
But I was currently studying its counters with my Heavenly Killing Eyes wide open.
"But with the staff shortened, the center of balance is off somehow."
A staff was originally a weapon that used distance—but Mabong-i, half-broken while dealing with the Blood Sect bastard, was somehow shorter than even a short spear.
As I fell into a trance of training, swinging only the staff without a word, Ilhong eventually left out of boredom.
But someone immediately approached with a grin to fill that empty spot.
His identity was none other than Young Hero Majungcheon, whose secret had been revealed on the first day we met.
Lately he seemed to be secretly following my tail, and he came to talk when there were no people around.
"Ah. What is it this time."
Ever since the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering banquet last time, how much nagging there had been—you need to make friends, you can't neglect training, and so on.
As I looked disgusted the moment I saw his face, Majungcheon came closer with a good-natured laugh.
"Haha, don't be like that. I have a gift today."
So saying, he shoved a long staff toward me.
A staff that looked similar in length, weight, and durability to the former street-cleaning staff I used.
"I saw your staff get wrecked last time. Still, given our connection so far, I brought something usable."
A face that subtly expected me to display some staff technique right in front of him.
This guy—he'd definitely figured out my identity.
This wasn't even covering each other's eyes and playing around.
"Thanks for the staff."
You've worked hard, Mabong-ah.
I took out a small dagger used for skinning wild animals and carved letters into the middle of the new staff.
Named the Hell Vengeance Staff.
"Really, young hero. The names you give are all one after another…"
"Isn't it awesome?"
"Awe…? Anyway, it's bizarre."
Whatever. I checked the feel by swinging the staff that had regained its length every which way like a windmill, wrapping it around my waist, and bouncing it like the Ruyi Staff.
"But revenge for what? The Blood Sect bastard who broke this?"
"Him too, and various other things."
I had to avenge Mabong-i's grudge—but also the revenge of Moyong Cheongjin, who had long endured harsh treatment, right?
I began swinging with a considerable amount of internal energy loaded into the staff tip. Then the staff began cutting the wind with heavy whooshing sounds.
As fierce energy waves erupted and the grain of the wind split, Majungcheon, who had been staring blankly, asked this.
"I've been curious for a while—did you reach Peak Realm martial artist from the last fight?"
That one move that had perfectly blocked the enemy's fist energy which had been crushing the staff every time it touched.
Majungcheon seemed to think I had some realization from looking at the writhing internal energy at the staff tip.
And as he said, I had gained a small realization and was now able to clash head-on with sword qi or fist energy—the authority of Peak Realm martial artists.
"Well, it seems like that."
"…Hoo. Truly unbelievable talent. Peak at fifteen. A growth speed that rivals the Blue Cloud Sword."
This old man—even if it isn't Korean, you have to listen to a person's words to the end.
"But it's a bit ambiguous. Peak is Peak, but it feels like only defense works?"
There wouldn't be a situation where sword qi splits my weapon in half and stabs into my chest, though.
No matter how much energy I coated the staff tip with, it didn't emit the destructive power to split an iron plate in half.
Jo Harang said maybe my realization speed was too fast, and time would solve it.
But my personality isn't that patient.
Kill.
Especially the Heavenly Killing Star seemed quite dissatisfied that I couldn't split weapon and skull at the same time.
For me, while avoiding killing karma, I could thoroughly thrash enemies using my unique toughness and Heavenly Killing Eyes, so it wasn't that bad.
"Peak, but a half-baked Peak?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Hoo. So that was it."
Well, it was fast—too fast. Majungcheon nodded with a face of understanding.
"Since I answered one, I'll ask one too, Young Hero Majungcheon."
"Yes, go ahead."
Majungcheon answered with a grin, as if glad for the interest of me who had always been avoiding him.
"You're also a Beggar Sect member, right?"
"…"
The grinning expression froze solid in an instant.
With a look of From where did he find out?, Majungcheon couldn't hide his flustered air.
"…W-what are you talking about."
This guy—even though he's a Beggar Sect member, his acting is really bad.
"What do you mean what. It's already all found out that you're Beggar Sect."
"Not at all! This body is a chivalrous hero of Kaifeng whom the jianghu fellows call Divine Wind Hero."
"If you're not Beggar Sect, try saying 'that bastard of a Dragon Head Branch Leader.'"
"Y-you're mad! How dare you speak of that person so carelessly…! Hup."
See?
Sitting there doing meaningless things. Honestly.
"Anyway, let's borrow some of that information network and manpower of yours. Beggar Sect uncle."
I said so while thumping his shoulder with the street-cleaning staff.
"By information network and manpower, what do you mean…"
"There are lots of Beggar Sect in Shaanxi, right? Please grasp the Blood Sect bastards' movements, and help the Demon Exterminating Squad Vice Leader find that Salseung bastard too."
That, you know. With the Beggar Sect's information power and numbers, they could even spread something like the Heavenly Net Earthly Web—the net of heaven.
It would probably be a big help to Moyong Cheonghye looking for the guy.
"Sorry, young hero, but such core personnel of the Beggar Sect do not move on an outsider's orders."
"What, am I an outsider?"
I retorted with a face as if the world's most wronged.
When he used to give all sorts of nagging not to become like the previous Dragon Head Branch Leader.
"Ahem ahem. Since it's not yet officially recognized… it's not."
"You know, people don't remember much the ones who treat them well when they're successful. But? The ones who treat them well when they're nothing…"
"Remember… for a long time?"
"Exactly that."
I clapped as if that was the answer.
"If things work out well later, I'll make sure to remember your face and name."
I shall use you importantly.
Anyway, it's a world where you can't avoid guanxi, right? When I first whispered about becoming bros, he gulped and nodded.
"…I'll try."
Majungcheon was a person who knew how to bet on the future and line up.
I like him.
Namgung Soseon, the current Murim Alliance Leader known by the moniker Heavenly Sword, was looking down with interested eyes at the two youths who had come up onto the arena stage.
One a vagabond, one the legitimate son of a great family—yet two youths with a strangely similar atmosphere flowing between them.
"Father, is that one holding the staff over there the vagabond Dan Mujin you told me to keep an eye on?"
On the platform, a handsome youth with beautiful jade-like eyes pointed to one side of the arena and spoke to Namgung Soseon.
Namgung Soseon nodded and said yes.
"Yes. A youth with a very interesting disposition and growth rate."
The Heavenly Sword nodded, saying it was like looking at the young Moyong Clan Lord—that is, the Thunderbolt Sword.
"Well, to me he just looks like a so-so martial artist who hasn't even properly reached Peak."
And the Heavenly Sword's son, Namgung Jin, shrugged as if he wasn't sure.
At that, Namgung Soseon shook his head, saying he had no eye for people.
"But you, the one called Blue Cloud Sword—where did you sell off your sword and come from?"
He had sent him off without a word because he said he would grow on his own, awaken martial arts on his own, and had thought of what he needed to do.
Yet here he was shouldering some strange staff after selling off the family heirloom sword somewhere.
"…There were circumstances, Father."
Explaining that it was more of a disaster than circumstances, really.
The handsome youth casually hung that staff with a sharp and heavy tip on his shoulder.