Chapter 377
Namgung Jeong raised his eyebrows and shouted.
"What did you say?"
"Are you trying to deny it?"
Namgung Poong replied with an icy glare.
"I've heard everything from Elder Poong."
His bloodshot eyes burned as he spat out the words with a face twisted in anguish.
"How long did you plan to keep pretending to be my real father?"
Instead of answering, Namgung Jeong drew a deep breath.
The truth was, Namgung Poong was not Namgung Jeong's son. He was the only child of Namgung Gyeol—Jeong's elder brother—who had been brutally murdered by the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade, Bu Jan-yang.
And Poong's mother, too, had withered away in grief the following year, succumbing to illness.
At the time, Namgung Poong had been nothing more than a two-year-old infant.
Unable to bear it, Namgung Jeong had taken Poong in as his own son and raised him.
"What nonsense are you spouting now?!"
At Namgung Jeong's outburst, the corners of Poong's lips curled upward.
"If you have nothing to hide, why didn't you ever tell me I was Namgung Gyeol's son?"
"Isn't it because you were too afraid of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade? Ashamed that you abandoned your own brother and fled?"
"What?!"
Namgung Jeong stared at Poong with a hollow expression.
"Did Elder Poong tell you that?"
"Was he wrong?"
"Of course he was."
Namgung Jeong let out a sigh so deep it seemed to carry the weight of the world.
"The Seven Fingers Demonic Blade was a figure whose martial prowess was so immense that even if I trained my entire life, I could never hope to kill him."
"Not long after that incident, he vanished without a trace. No one has been able to find him since."
Namgung Jeong's face was pale as he spoke.
"With the very target of vengeance gone, I saw no reason to burden you with a futile thirst for revenge."
Namgung Jeong had gritted his teeth and trained relentlessly, but he knew his martial arts would never be enough to slay the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade.
And when the man disappeared without warning, revenge became nothing more than a distant dream.
The last thing he wanted was to reveal the truth to Poong and force him to inherit that same helpless torment.
"So you're saying you didn't want to pass on the pain of an unfulfilled revenge to me... Is that it?"
"That's right."
"A rather convenient lie, isn't it?"
Despite hearing the full truth, Namgung Poong only sneered in response.
"But I suppose you never imagined I'd hear you confess your sins with your own mouth?"
"Confess?"
"Do you remember the conversation you had with Elder Poong at Sangwoo Pavilion ten years ago?"
"Sangwoo Pavilion?"
"Back then, you admitted it yourself. You said your brother's death was entirely your fault. That you were too afraid of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade to seek revenge."
Namgung Jeong's expression twisted strangely.
The faint memory of that conversation with Elder Poong a decade ago resurfaced in his mind.
"Elder Poong kept pressing me with bizarre questions... So that's why he hid you there."
Only now did Namgung Jeong fully grasp the situation.
That day, when Elder Poong had suddenly dredged up his guilt and steered the conversation toward his brother's death—
He had deliberately brought Namgung Poong along and got Namgung Jeong to say things that could be misunderstood.
"So you believed that nonsense from Elder Poong and turned your blade on me?"
"Don't act so aggrieved, Family Head."
Namgung Poong smiled faintly as he spoke.
"Didn't you, too, use a cunning trap to lure my father to his death before taking his place as Family Head?"
"Hahaha."
Namgung Jeong burst into laughter, utterly dumbfounded.
Only now did he realize that Namgung Poong was beyond saving—no amount of explanation would ever get through to him.
"At the time, the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade was the Invincible Saber Master. No martial artist from either the Orthodox or Unorthodox Factions dared to face him."
Namgung Jeong's face was a picture of devastation as he spoke.
"But my brother was overconfident. He believed the man's reputation was exaggerated and that he could defeat him."
As if reliving the memory, Namgung Jeong let out a ragged breath.
"In the end, my brother tracked down the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade and recklessly challenged him. By the time I arrived, he was already a cold corpse."
"And what exactly are you trying to say?"
"Enraged, I tried to strike at the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade immediately. But I couldn't even draw my sword. Seeing that, he simply walked past me, as if bored."
Namgung Jeong's expression was one of agony.
"I blamed myself for failing to stop my brother in time. And I regretted being too afraid to even draw my sword against the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade."
The blood flowing from the dagger embedded in Namgung Jeong's Body Pillar Acupoint grew thicker.
Yet he remained standing tall as he spoke.
"That is the full truth."
Namgung Poong said nothing.
Elder Poong had been a very attentive master.
He was the only person who had told him the truth about his father's death.
And the Last Three Styles of the Emperor Sword Form—techniques only the Family Head could learn. He had even taught him the mysterious Severing Sword technique to counter those very methods.
—The sword techniques this master taught you must never be used within the Namgung Family.
As it turned out, Elder Poong was a member of some mysterious faction.
—If you join the organization this master belongs to, you won't just become the Family Head—you'll gain far greater authority.
And thanks to Elder Poong's recommendation, Namgung Poong, too, was able to join that faction.
However, since he only followed the orders Elder Poong gave him, he couldn't grasp the full structure of the organization. Still, they wielded power so immense it could sway the entire martial world.
'Even if those words were true... it doesn't matter now.'
Namgung Poong curled his lips into a cruel smile.
If this plan succeeded—if he killed Namgung Jeong and Namgung Un—he would soon become the Family Head.
And as for the rest? Elder Poong and his faction would take care of everything.
Even if the truth about his father was a lie... it no longer mattered.
"I see."
Namgung Jeong nodded faintly as he studied Namgung Poong's expression.
He had already seen through it—that every word Poong had spoken until now was nothing but an excuse.
"So revenge for Father was just a pretext."
"Family Head. I could have waited."
Namgung Poong spoke the words in his heart honestly.
"If you hadn't favored that youngest son of yours, I would never have resorted to this."
Namgung Poong knew.
The one Namgung Jeong cherished most, the one he loved and had always intended to make the next Family Head—
It was Namgung Un. The very same boy he scolded the most, the one he treated the harshest.
"No matter how much he handled the Beggars' Sect's affairs, to suddenly hand the Gratitude Coin to Un like that? That was no different than erasing all the merit I've built up until now!"
"Cough—!"
Just as Namgung Jeong tried to speak, he hacked up a thick glob of blood.
His injuries had worsened—his internal damage had grown severe.
"I must have lost my mind. Haha, I've rambled on too long."
Namgung Poong smiled faintly.
"Now, please die quietly."
Huuuung—!
At that moment, a fierce Sword Resonance surged from the blade Namgung Poong drew.
The Last Three Styles of the Emperor Sword Form.
The supreme sword technique only the Namgung Family Head could master—now unfurling in Namgung Poong's hands.
"Farewell!"
Kuuung—!
An overwhelming pressure, as if hurling Mount Tai itself, condensed into the Golden Needle Sword.
Namgung Poong had already grasped the profound essence of the Emperor Sword Form—the ability to dominate space and concentrate that crushing force into a single point.
But then—
"Don't you dare touch the Family Head!"
Gasping for breath, Namgung Un—who had been slumped on the ground—suddenly shouted and snatched up the sword Namgung Jeong had dropped.
Then, step by step, he advanced.
"Fight me instead."
"Hahahaha!"
Namgung Poong shook his head.
"Namgung Un. You've improved quite a bit this time, but you're still not at my level."
Namgung Poong had long since reached the Transcendent Realm—his skill was far beyond what Namgung Un could match.
How could a reckless brat like Un, who had spent his days slacking off and carousing, possibly stand against him?
"And you can't even muster half your Internal Power right now."
"Shut up, you ungrateful bastard."
Namgung Un tilted the Golden Needle Sword slightly, his voice solemn.
"From now on, you're no brother of mine."
"Hahahahaha!"
Namgung Poong burst into uproarious laughter, his expression delighted.
"Good! It's only fun if someone like you resists till the very end!"
And without hesitation, he unleashed the Emperor Sword Form.
Huuung—!
A low vibration filled the air—Namgung Un's vision darkened instantly. The sheer pressure crashing down upon him blotted out his sight.
CLANG—!
Yet he effortlessly deflected Namgung Poong's unseen strike.
Not only was his aptitude exceptional, but he had watched Namgung Poong's swordplay since childhood.
Even without seeing or sensing it, he could predict exactly how Poong would unfold his techniques.
"Come to think of it, I did teach you quite a bit when you were young."
Namgung Poong, too, smirked as he realized Un had memorized his habits.
"Shall I play with you for old times' sake?"
"You didn't teach me—you sabotaged me."
Deep down, Namgung Poong had always feared Un's potential.
That was why he had pretended to instruct him while feeding him flawed techniques.
But Namgung Un had seen through it. Instead of learning what Poong taught, he had carefully observed the way Poong trained his sword in secret.
"Just knowing about it isn't enough!"
Namgung Poong cackled and prepared to unleash the Emperor Sword Form again.
But each time, Namgung Un's Golden Needle Sword intercepted his Sword Trajectory before he could even begin.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
For a long while, an endless exchange of blows continued.
Namgung Un had always wielded his sword defensively, restraining himself from aggressive and violent techniques.
But now, he poured forth every ounce of his strength, unleashing lethal killing moves.
This duel wasn't just about his own life—it was about the Family Head's life behind him as well.
Because of that, a level of focus he had never experienced before surged within him, and the might of his sword techniques multiplied several times over.
"You little insect. So this is your final struggle!"
Namgung Poong tried to push back against Namgung Un, who was stubbornly closing the distance between them.
But Namgung Un, standing at the boundary between life and death, had reached the peak of his concentration.
He knew Namgung Poong's habits and techniques inside out—he could even predict his sword strokes in advance. That was why he could cling on so desperately.
'All of this... I learned it from traveling with Brother Bu.'
Bu Eun-seol never constrained himself to conventional martial arts. He always sought victory in the midst of crisis.
—No matter how great an enemy's martial arts are, they're useless if they can't unleash them.
During his days as a rogue swordsman, Bu Eun-seol had taught Namgung Un the importance of preemptive strikes and seizing the initiative.
—When facing an opponent stronger than you, every move must begin before the enemy can even start their attack.
There were always tells before a technique was executed.
And by observing an opponent's gaze and movements, one could predict their actions in advance.
Besides, Namgung Un wasn't trying to win against Namgung Poong.
He was only buying time—just enough for Bu Eun-seol to arrive.
Bu Eun-seol. He would definitely sense this situation and come for him.
"How amusing. Do you really think someone will come to save you if you stall?"
Finally realizing Namgung Un's plan, Namgung Poong let out a grating laugh.
"The reason I arrived late was to erase all traces of my presence here. Not only that, I've stationed three hundred of my soulless people in the surrounding area."
Namgung Poong smirked confidently.
"Right now, the Namgung Family is too busy dealing with the fires to spare any attention. Even if that man does find traces of this mechanism, there's no way he could break through my Soul Hunters in such a short time."
Namgung Poong was as cunning as he was ruthless.
To ensure this plan wouldn't fail—
To ensure no one could interfere—
He had laid traps upon traps, layer after layer.
Yet, a faint smile still lingered at the corner of Namgung Un's lips.
It was faith.
The reason he could cling on so desperately was because he knew—Bu Eun-seol would find this place.
"Namgung Poong! You've never trusted anyone in your life, have you?"
Namgung Un's voice dripped with mockery.
"That's why you never listen to others. That's why you've twisted yourself beyond repair."
"Ridiculous nonsense!"
CLANG!
As their swords clashed, Namgung Un was forced back several steps.
He was already injured, and Namgung Poong's internal power far surpassed his own. Worse, Namgung Poong had even mastered the Last Three Styles of the Emperor Sword Form...
No matter how stubbornly he endured, no matter how desperately he prevented Namgung Poong from landing a decisive strike with the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword, defeat was inevitable.
"So this is the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword your father painstakingly modified for you."
Seeing Namgung Un still stalling for time, Namgung Poong began breaking his spirit with words.
"Did you really think what you've been using was the true Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword?"
Namgung Poong smirked faintly as he swung his blade.
"What you learned was a customized version of the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword—created just for you by the Family Head. The forms may look the same, but that's the only reason you couldn't tell the difference."
Namgung Un's eyes widened.
Reconstructing a sword technique passed down through generations with new Sword Principles was an incredibly difficult and time-consuming task.
Even the orthodox factions of the martial world compiled separate manuals for their techniques precisely because they couldn't tailor them individually to each disciple's aptitude.
"I've told you since we were children. You never understood the Family Head's heart."
"You were the only one needed for this trap. Because the Family Head cherished and loved you more than anyone else."
Namgung Poong's voice was laced with scorn.
"But you never believed it. You always whined—'The Family Head hates me.'"
"Shut up!"
Enraged, Namgung Un swung his sword with even greater ferocity.
But this was a movement that went against the Sword Intent of the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword.
As fury clouded his mind, the once-solid Sword Form of his technique loosened slightly.
'Now!'
Seizing the opening, Namgung Poong thrust his Golden Needle Sword forward.
Thunk!
The tip of the blade snapped off—flying straight toward Namgung Un's uvula.
This was the Severing Sword Technique—a secret killing move taught to him by Elder Poong.
"Kh—!"
Feeling the sharp gust of wind pierce toward his throat, Namgung Un twisted his body at the last second.
Thud.
Instead, the broken shard of the sword embedded itself deep into his shoulder.
"Hahaha!"
Not wasting the opportunity, Namgung Poong unleashed the Emperor Sword Form once more.
Bzzzt!
An overwhelming pressure bore down on Namgung Un, threatening to rupture his meridians and kill him in an instant.
Thud.
In the end, Namgung Un was forced to one knee.
Once caught in the flawless execution of the Emperor Sword Form, one could neither swing their sword nor resist. Every possible space to move had been completely dominated.
Namgung Poong had long since mastered the profound Sword Principle of the Emperor Sword Form under Elder Poong's guidance.
Shiver, shiver.
Namgung Un tried to force himself up with his internal power, but his body only trembled like an aspen leaf.
Step, step.
Namgung Poong slowly approached, looking down at the kneeling Namgung Un.
"Farewell."
Thunk.
But the sword Namgung Poong thrust forward did not pierce Namgung Un's neck—instead, it embedded itself into the shoulder of Namgung Jeong, who had slipped between them in the blink of an eye.
"Ugh—!"
Namgung Jeong let out a deep groan as the blade struck him.
The tip of the sword carried razor-sharp internal power—even if it had struck his forearm instead of his shoulder, the force would have been enough to sever his heart meridian.
"Ghk!"
Yet, gritting his teeth, Namgung Jeong shattered the Golden Needle Sword lodged in his shoulder with his bare hand.
Clang!
At the same time, he barked a sharp command:
"Swallow in the Hall!"
Hearing Namgung Jeong's words, Namgung Un snapped to attention and thrust his sword.
It was the killing stroke of the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword—Swallow in the Hall—a technique designed to slash through an opponent the instant they let their guard down.
Splat!
Blood sprayed from Namgung Poong's neck.
Unfortunately, thanks to his lightning-fast reflexes, the strike failed to sever his carotid artery.
"You bastards...!"
Namgung Poong pressed a hand to his bleeding neck, his eyes burning with fury.
Had he not instinctively dodged that strike, he would already be crossing the River of Three Crossings.
"I'll kill you for real this time!"
An immense killing intent surged from Namgung Poong's eyes.
He intended to finish them both in a single slash, beheading them without even needing to lift a finger.
But then—
Crack. Crrrrunch.
The stone wall behind Namgung Un suddenly crumbled—
BOOM.
—and split apart entirely, revealing a lone figure stepping through.
It was Bu Eun-seol.
The moment Namgung Un saw him, he instinctively called out his true name:
"Brother Bu!"
"You've suffered."
Bu Eun-seol gave a slight nod, his gaze fixed on Namgung Un.
Just that look alone was enough to put Namgung Un at ease.
It's over now.
The rest is in Brother Bu's hands.
"You... are no ordinary rogue."
Namgung Poong stared at the shattered stone wall behind Bu Eun-seol.
To break into an underground mechanism like this required martial power strong enough to split Mount Tai itself.
"There were quite a few strange stragglers around."
Bu Eun-seol spoke calmly.
"Dealing with them one by one would've taken too long, so I came this way instead."
Even in the face of Bu Eun-seol's sudden appearance, Namgung Poong remained unshaken, his lips curling into a cold smile.
"You must have some other identity. Isn't that right?"
"Curious?"
"No, not particularly."
Namgung Poong's smile turned murderous.
"Just in case something like this happened, I've spent a long time preparing mechanisms here. I wondered if there was another martial artist in the Namgung Clan who could surpass me."
Clank.
A sharp metallic sound suddenly rang out from the high ceiling.
The entire ceiling flipped open, revealing countless black orbs clinging to it like dewdrops.
At the same time, a massive iron gate erupted from the floor, forming a barrier in front of Namgung Poong.
"That's—!"
Namgung Un's eyes widened.
Hanging from the ceiling were Heaven-Crushing Explosive Pellets—devices capable of reducing even an iron fortress to rubble with a single detonation.
If caught in that explosion without internal power, they would be pulverized into dust.
Whoosh!
Before anyone could react, the darkened Heaven-Crushing Explosive Pellets rained down.
"Un!"
Namgung Jeong, who had been slumped weakly, mustered all his strength to lunge forward and embrace Namgung Un.
Even if he died, he was determined to save Namgung Un.
KABOOM!
A deafening explosion erupted, accompanied by a blinding flash of light.
CRASH—!
The force of the blast was so immense that even the massive iron gate in front of Namgung Poong crumpled and began glowing red-hot.
CRACK.
Unable to withstand the explosion, the gate was torn apart, leaving a gaping hole.
'That should finish them.'
Namgung Poong nodded in satisfaction.
This trap was designed to unleash an explosion no living human could possibly survive—a blast no flesh-and-blood human could withstand.
Whoooosh.
Smoke billowed through the shattered remains of the iron gate, dispersing in all directions.
Namgung Poong smiled as he watched.
If he wrapped things up neatly here, Namgung Un and Namgung Jeong would simply be declared missing—and he would soon ascend as the new Family Head.
"The position of Family Head of the Namgung Clan... isn't something to be exchanged even for the leadership of the Martial Alliance. Well, at least within the confines of Jiangnan."
Muttering to himself, Namgung Poong turned to leave—
ZZZT!
—when, amidst the gray smoke, a black lightning flashed.
And then, an astonishing sight was revealed.
Inside the stone wall, a pitch-black sphere had formed—and within it stood Bu Eun-seol and Namgung Un, completely unharmed.
Not a single scratch on them.
Perfectly intact.