You’d Better Think of It as an Honor, Kid (1)
"Hold them back!"
Malice burned in Namgung Myeong’s eyes.
The island was vast, and there were far too many pirates packed into it.
That only worked against the Namgung Clan.
From the pirates’ point of view, the enemies storming in from the island’s edge were simply too strong. It didn’t matter whether that was because they were truly skilled or because their momentum had been crushed; the fact remained that they were being driven back.
But the Namgung Clan’s survivors were, comparatively, much easier prey.
The pirates who had no nerve to go meet the approaching forces from Mount Hua and the Tang Family charged toward the Namgung Clan like wolves finishing off an injured deer.
But the Namgung Clan would not go down meekly.
Even before Mount Hua arrived, they had fought as though they were already offering their lives; now that hope itself had reached them, a new vigor surged through their veins.
"Hold them back! The young patriarch is coming!"
Namgung Myeong shouted as though coughing up blood. Blue, murderous light ignited in the eyes of the Namgung swordsmen.
They had seen with their own eyes the state in which the young patriarch had returned to this island. Namgung Dowi, who could have survived alone if he’d chosen to, had come back here with them, gripping that sword tight in his hand.
He had done it only to save the people on this island.
So how could they possibly dare complain of hardship in front of such a young patriarch? Forget the name Namgung—pride itself would not allow a swordsman to do it.
The Namgung sword changed.
The blades that had been screaming for the chance to drag more enemies down with them, even if they died in the process, now turned into swords devoted entirely to defense, to protecting themselves.
Because they believed.
They believed that if they just held on here, Mount Hua, the Tang Family, and Namgung Dowi would save them.
Those who walked the martial path sometimes experienced moments when spirit rose above flesh. Right now, the Namgung swordsmen were in exactly that state. Their bodies had long surpassed their limits, but their will forced them onward, dragging their bodies into battle against the enemy.
And there was one more thing lending them strength.
Whoosh!
Needles as thin as strands of hair shot up into the air in countless numbers. Then, having soared high above, they all changed direction at once and rained back down.
"Aaaaargh!"
Desperate screams burst from the pirates’ mouths.
This was the kind of sect that only revealed its true power when it had an enemy to face.
Poison and deadly hidden weapons, useless in a friendly duel, now finally emerged into the sunlight for the first time in a hundred years to meet the enemy that was the pirate stronghold.
Whoosh!
A phantom-like throwing knife slipped past Baek Cheon’s head by a hair’s breadth. The flying blade that had pierced the forehead of the enemy blocking his path curved in a wide arc and shot behind Baek Cheon.
Seriously, this is ridiculously reassuring.
Baek Cheon tightened his grip on his sword.
Of course there were people behind him with swords of their own, protecting him, but this felt different.
It meant that, whenever and wherever, no matter the distance, there were those who could help him.
That fact made his steps go at least half a pace farther.
Whoosh!
Baek Cheon kicked up dust and surged forward. His eyes cooled as he faced the pirates blocking his way with frightened faces.
How am I supposed to fight with eyes like that!
Whish!
His sword flashed down in a diagonal line like a beam of light.
"That damned bastard’s been cursing for three whole days!"
Baek Cheon’s blade split apart the pirates charging at him with their spears. Then the tip of his sword spun once more, and dozens of plum blossoms bloomed in its wake.
The spears hurled at him in a barrage were blocked by those blossoms and knocked scattering in every direction.
Then—
"Taht!"
The moment he thrust his sword straight out, the blossoms scattered to pieces and swept through the enemies ahead.
The Plum Blossom Sword Aura of Mount Hua.
Hundreds of flower petals—impossible to tell real from fake—floated and swirled like the river wind blowing over Maehwado, then pressed into the pirates.
With flowers of sword aura vivid enough to make one doubt one’s own eyes in front of them and a rain of cow-hair needles pouring down from above, this was exactly when the phrase “when it rains, it pours” should be used.
"Aaaaargh!"
"P-please, save meeeee!"
The instant the pirates’ screams rang out, the Mount Hua swordsmen following behind Baek Cheon all surged forward at once and swung their swords.
They were cutting through one path, and one path only—the road leading to Namgung.
And among them, Namgung Dowi heaved for breath and clutched his sword tightly.
I... I should do something too.
He was the young patriarch of Namgung. He could not simply stand here and watch them fight!
But—
What am I supposed to do?
They were too strong. And they moved as though they were one body. In that perfect flow, Namgung Dowi was nothing more than an impurity. The moment he stepped forward, they would lose the speed they had now.
Then what, exactly, was he supposed to do?
What is it that I have to do?
Should he throw himself into the fray and defend Namgung’s pride? Or should he abandon pride and put saving the Namgung Clan first?
Obviously, the latter.
Was it really right for him, while wounded and unable to fight even at half strength, to stand at the front simply because of his pride?
"..."
With a hollow look, Namgung Dowi stared dumbly at the survivors far ahead.
This is right.
The strength drained from the hand gripping his sword.
And just as it was about to slip away completely—
Grab!
Someone seized Namgung Dowi’s shoulder hard.
Startled, he turned and saw Cheong Myeong, his face twisted into something fearsome.
"S-secta—"
How?
He had clearly thrown himself toward the ships to deal with them. Since when had he reached Maehwado?
Cheong Myeong glared at Namgung Dowi and snapped, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I, I was..."
As if reading his thoughts from his expression alone, Cheong Myeong barked, "You useless bastard!"
Namgung Dowi had never, in his entire life, been cursed at so brutally. And yet he understood. This wasn’t just anger for the sake of anger; the insult carried genuine feeling. His shoulders shrank of their own accord.
Cheong Myeong shouted again.
"Move!"
The hand on his shoulder shoved Namgung Dowi forward hard.
"S-secta! I—"
"I know, you idiot! Does anyone here not know you’re dead weight right now?"
At that merciless shout, Namgung Dowi bit his lip hard. The hand pushing at his shoulder grew even stronger, and naturally he had no choice but to force himself to move faster and faster.
"Listen carefully!"
"...Yes?"
"What someone needs to stand at the front isn’t skill."
Cheong Myeong’s voice drove itself clearly into his ear.
"It’s qualification!"
"..."
Cheong Myeong turned a cold gaze toward the Namgung Clan’s position. Namgung had the right to be saved, and Namgung Dowi had the right to stand in front.
Then what he had to do was painfully clear.
"Then you cut the road open!"
At that moment, a voice more reassuring than any in the world cut in.
"I’ll hold the rear!"
Dang Gun-ak’s throwing knife flashed past above Namgung Dowi’s head and slammed into the chest of a pirate in front.
"Go!"
At Cheong Myeong’s cry, Namgung Dowi spun around and shot forward, kicking off the ground.
It was strange.
The moment he surged ahead, every single person he passed sent him a steady, unwavering look.
As though they had been waiting for this moment.
And those gazes were enough to wring the last scrap of strength from Namgung Dowi’s battered body.
"Hraaaah!"
White sword aura erupted from the tip of Namgung Dowi’s blade as he charged past Baek Cheon.
BOOOOOOM!
Emperor's Sword Form!
The emperor’s sword, forged only to go forward—always forward. His blade was a sword meant to smash the enemy and protect those coming behind him!
The insight Namgung Hwang had realized at the very end was passed down whole to his son. Was that not the purpose of a family—to carry on what the previous generation had built?
"Get out of my way!"
BBOOOOM!
White sword aura burst from the vertically slashed blade. The pirates were swept away without even the chance to resist.
"Y-young patriarrrrch!"
Namgung Myeong cried out, his voice thick with moisture.
The fact that a sword technique reserved only for Namgung’s direct bloodline appeared here carried far too much meaning.
It was nowhere near enough to compare with Namgung Hwang yet, but that was unmistakably the emperor’s sword—the pure white sword aura that symbolized the Namgung Clan itself.
Cough!
Namgung Dowi’s body lurched forward for an instant.
He had forced his inner power too hard, and his vision swam. His legs trembled as though he might collapse any second.
"K-kill him!"
Seizing that opening, the pirates swung their blades at him. Showing weakness on the battlefield meant death.
But—
"As if!"
In that instant, a black silhouette shot up above Namgung Dowi’s head.
"M-Mount Hua Divine Dragon!"
The faces of those who recognized him instantly went pale.
Whoosh!
Dozens of crimson sword energies spilled from the blade Cheong Myeong thrust out. They pierced exactly through the necks of the enemies rushing toward Namgung Dowi.
The pirates didn’t even have time to scream before they crumpled where they ran, their momentum carrying them forward as they fell.
Landing right beside Namgung Dowi, Cheong Myeong grabbed his shoulder and hauled him upright. But before even that hand could fully apply its strength, Namgung Dowi lifted his head and steadied his body on his own.
Thud!
With the sound of a stamp striking the ground, Namgung Dowi’s sword erupted in another white flash.
Those waiting for him were right there ahead.
So at the very least—
I can’t spout some bullshit about how hard this is!
BBOOOOM!
Namgung Dowi unleashed sword aura once more and staggered forward. He drove his sword into the throat of an oncoming enemy, braced a hand against the ground when his body threatened to fall, and somehow dragged himself onward.
Thud.
There was no way he could have taken this step alone. There was no way he could have stood against the enemies blocking him.
But.
At least in this moment, he was not alone. He could feel it. Someone was guarding his back. Someone was waiting for him to move forward!
Move!
Blood streamed from his nose and mouth, but the resolve in Namgung Dowi’s eyes only hardened.
"I am!"
A blood-boiling shout burst from his lips.
"The patriarch of the Namgung Clan!"
Throwing his body at the pirates blocking his way, Namgung Dowi’s sword painted trails of flashing light.
The sword aura glowed faintly, as though it might go out at any moment.
But it did not extinguish. It met the pirates’ spears head-on.
Clang!
The sword aura that should have cut down the enemy and broken them apart was struck by the spears and bounced back weakly.
"Ah..."
A frustrated gasp slipped from Namgung Dowi’s mouth. But then—
"Well done, kid."
Explosive sword aura burst from behind him. The red sword light shot forward, spreading out in every direction in an instant before drawing brilliant crimson plum blossoms in the air.
The plum blossoms whirled like a storm, sweeping through the pirates ahead. Screams of death rang wildly through the air.
And Namgung Dowi saw it.
A clear path opening through the enemies that had been blocking him and the Namgung Clan.
He no longer needed to think.
"Run!"
Grinding his teeth, Namgung Dowi kicked off the ground.
Toward that road, toward the path he had to take!
As Namgung Dowi ran the blood-soaked road carved open before him, his eyes met those of someone staring back at him.
"Y-young patriarrrrch!"
At Namgung Myeong’s tearful shout, Namgung Dowi collapsed into his arms with a snow-white smile.
Hugging him as tightly as he could, Namgung Myeong wrapped both arms around him.
"You did well. Really... really well, young patriarch. No—"
He bit his lip hard, then corrected himself.
"Patriarch."
That emotional reunion seemed like someone else’s business entirely as Cheong Myeong brushed past the two of them and, in one stroke, knocked off the head of a pirate who was standing there helplessly, not knowing what to do. Then he roared, "Cut them all down!"
"Woooooah!"
At last, the Mount Hua swordsmen who had reached Namgung began sweeping the pirates away with savage momentum.