An Uncompromising Blade
The Lord's Hall reflects the family it represents.
For instance, the Namgung Clan is characterized by the grand and magnificent pavilions visible right from the main gate, while the Sichuan Dang Family exudes a bizarre and mysterious aura, as if mirroring deep mountains and secluded valleys.
The Lord's Hall of the Jegal Family was no different, boasting its own unique heritage.
Outsiders entering the hall were usually struck by the quiet, profound arrangement of the pavilions and decorations, marveling at the deep insight embedded within the layout.
For this reason, the Jegal Family's Lord's Hall was also known as the Hall of Wisdom. It normally possessed a distinct atmosphere, as if sculpted from pure contemplation and deep thought.
But today was different.
"My Lord! This is an affair that absolutely cannot be overlooked!"
Middle-aged and elderly martial artists stood packed inside the spacious hall.
Judging by their official hats and robes, one might easily mistake them for government officials. In truth, they were the elders of the Jegal Family, the core pillars of the clan who shared the same generational rank as the current Lord.
They were the ones who wielded the greatest voice and influence in the family, second only to the Lord himself.
"To hand over the White Feather Fan!"
"The Second Young Master, who slipped away in secret, has still not returned!"
"If it has been stolen by some villain, it means the very symbol of our family has vanished into thin air!"
The elders spoke in unison, censuring the Lord's rash behavior.
Their anger stemmed from the fact that he had given the White Feather Fan to Jeok-un.
Lending a sacred relic solely on the Lord's authority was already a grave matter, but now, even Jeok-un's whereabouts were unknown.
As elders who placed the clan's safety above all else, this was something they could never tolerate.
At a glance, their words might have seemed like bitter but well-meaning advice.
However, a closer look revealed a different story.
"Enough, all of you! Nothing has been confirmed yet!"
"Hmph, Jegal Tan! Have you already taken the Second Young Master's side?"
"What on earth are you trying to say?!"
Despite Jegal Tan's attempts to intervene, the elders continued their accusations.
They acted as if they had seized upon the perfect opportunity.
Jegal Mun, the Lord of the family, watched the scene unfold. His expression remained unreadable, but the tension in the air was palpable.
'Hehe, they are doing splendidly.'
Meanwhile, Lady Oh stood at the back with Jegal Wi-yeon, watching the spectacle with quiet satisfaction.
Of course, she did not let it show on her face.
She was not that foolish.
As the mastermind behind this plot, she was merely observing the progress under the guise of a concerned concubine.
'In a day or two, that idiot's corpse will be found. Then, it will all be over.'
Losing the White Feather Fan and having his dantian shattered?
Such a useless fool would be expelled from the family immediately.
Not executing him on the spot would be the only mercy the clan would show.
'Ah, I should have done this much sooner.'
Intoxicated by her impending victory, Lady Oh glanced at Lady Hang, Jeok-un's mother.
For a brief moment, a chilling gleam flashed in her eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
She immediately masked it with a look of fabricated innocence and false concern.
"Aaaah!"
A sudden shriek erupted from outside the hall.
To dare cause a disturbance in front of the Lord's Hall.
The elders furrowed their brows in displeasure.
"W-what is...?"
"...Y-you can't... you mustn't...!"
The commotion and shouting outside showed no signs of dying down.
Just what was happening out there?
As everyone inside looked at one another in confusion,
With a deafening roar, the doors of the Lord's Hall burst open, nearly tearing off their hinges.
"What in the world—eek!"
The elder closest to the entrance couldn't even finish his sentence.
A body had come flying through the newly opened doors.
No, to be precise, it wasn't a corpse.
It was just in a state where calling it a corpse wouldn't be an exaggeration.
"Groan..."
"!"
The thrown body—Heok-yeong—let out a faint groan.
As everyone stood speechless at the sight of the dying man clinging to life,
"T-the Second Young Master...?"
Their eyes finally fell upon the person who had broken through the doors and thrown the body inside.
It was Jeok-un.
In that moment of stunned silence,
"What a relief."
Jeok-un smirked with effortless composure and spoke.
His voice was cold, dripping with contempt.
"To find you all gathered in one place."
At that moment, the doors behind him slammed shut.
As if to ensure no one could escape.
'Well, this saves me the trouble of calling them out one by one.'
Jeok-un thought casually, but the situation was far from relaxed.
The leadership of the clan, including the elders and even Jegal Tan, were glaring at him.
The reason? It was simple.
He had vanished with a family treasure, only to reappear out of nowhere.
And he had brought a half-dead man with him.
It was only natural for them to be on guard, wondering if he had been consumed by a murderous urge during his disappearance.
'Quite sharp, indeed.'
The sharp pressure of their senses locking onto him was proof enough.
Glances filled with hostility and suspicion rained down on him.
Yet, among them, only one person was different.
Jegal Mun, the Divine Strategist of the Murim Alliance, merely gazed at him with eyes full of complex emotions.
Two hypotheses had already formed in Jegal Mun's mind.
Either Jeok-un had lost his sanity to the curse of a demonic weapon, or someone within the family had ordered his death.
However, even he failed to foresee one crucial detail.
'Shall we begin?'
And that was the bloody sword dance Jeok-un was about to perform.
Just then, the silent elders began to shout.
"Second Young Master! What is the meaning of this!"
"Who is this man?!"
"How dare you commit such an outrageous act in the Great Hall of the Jegal Family!"
"More importantly, the White Feather Fan! Where is it? Surely you haven't lost it!"
The chaotic barrage of voices was thick with condemnation.
The easiest way to shut them up in times like this was simple.
A demonstration of power.
Jeok-un unleashed his energy, amplified by the power of Tam-rang, like a vast ocean.
The eyes of the clamoring elders shook as if struck by an earthquake.
'W-what...?'
'The Second Young Master is... at the Peak Realm?'
Everyone, who had previously dismissed Jeok-un as a mere second-class martial artist, clamped their mouths shut.
Although the elders of the Jegal Family also possessed strength beyond the Peak Realm, the aura radiating from Jeok-un carried a force that could not be ignored.
Once the elders fell silent, Jeok-un drew the two swords from his waist and plunged them into the floor.
The contrasting blue and red blades pierced the solid granite floor as if it were soft tofu.
Even a cursory glance revealed an extraordinary energy that rivaled the White Feather Fan.
Drawing weapons inside the Lord's Hall was an unforgivable transgression, yet no one dared to speak up.
That was how deeply shocked everyone in the hall was.
Amidst the silence, Jeok-un dropped to one knee and offered his respects.
"Jeok-un of the Jegal Family greets the Lord upon completing his mission."
A mission?
Did it have to do with those twin swords?
No, what on earth was happening here...?
The elders whispered among themselves, their collective murmurs rising to a loud buzz.
Yet, none of that noise reached the ears of Jegal Mun, who was locked in deep concentration.
'If he hasn't fallen to the curse...'
A look of grim realization settled on Jegal Mun's face.
If that was the case, only one possibility remained.
Someone in the family had ambushed Jeok-un.
"...Heaven's luck was with you."
"Indeed."
"Congratulations. You have truly become the master of the sacred relics."
"I am grateful for your recognition."
Jeok-un and Jegal Mun exchanged calm words, leaving the other elders completely in the dark.
Then, Jegal Mun gave Jeok-un the floor.
"Now, explain."
Jegal Mun pointed to the writhing figure of Heok-yeong on the floor.
"Who is that man, and why have you brought him here in such a state?"
Jeok-un did not answer immediately.
Instead, he swept his gaze over the eyes locked onto him—the elders, Jegal Wi-yeon, and...
'Now, look forward to this. Things are about to get quite entertaining.'
Only after locking eyes with the culprit, Lady Oh, did he finally speak.
"He is an assassin."
"...!"
The single word "assassin" had a tremendous impact.
Even Jegal Mun, who had already suspected as much, was left speechless.
But the sentence Jeok-un deliberately followed up with caused an even greater uproar.
"To be precise, he is an assassin hired by someone in this very room to kill me."
"?!"
"Ugh!"
The reaction this time was far more violent than when the word "assassin" was first uttered.
Most of them had assumed that information about the White Feather Fan had leaked, prompting an external enemy to hire an assassin.
Yet, Jeok-un was clearly stating that the enemy was within the Jegal Family.
And that they were standing right here.
As everyone scanned the room with eyes full of suspicion and dread, Jeok-un merely let out a cold smile.
"If things had gone according to the assassin's plan, the one sprawled on the floor right now wouldn't be him, but me, with a shattered dantian."
A chilling silence descended upon the hall, so heavy it made breathing difficult.
The weight of the accusation was just that immense.
If, as Jeok-un claimed, someone from within had hired an assassin to harm the Second Young Master, it was an affair that could never be swept under the rug.
To dare attempt the assassination of the Jegal Family's second son.
The heads of anyone even remotely involved would roll without mercy.
'Damn it, what is going on?'
'Surely... surely it isn't...?'
'Damn it! What kind of absolute mess is this!'
Thus, the elders desperately tried to hide their burning anxiety.
There was only one cause for their nervousness.
...Surely, that woman hadn't been the one to send the assassin, had she?
They all concealed their wildly beating hearts, stealing glances at Lady Oh.
It was then.
"Can you prove that the culprit is in this room?"
Jegal Mun finally asked, his voice stern and authoritative.
Jeok-un replied.
"Of course."
"Then speak. Who is the traitor of our family?"
The moment Jegal Mun asked, Jeok-un pointed his finger directly at one spot.
The mother and son seated behind the elders.
"Lady Oh and Wi-yeon."
"...!"
It was indeed Lady Oh and Jegal Wi-yeon.
A collective gasp echoed through the hall.
Several elders even collapsed to the floor, their legs giving out from sheer shock.
"My Lord, this is a frame-up!"
"No, Father! It wasn't us!"
But Lady Oh and Jegal Wi-yeon immediately protested their innocence.
"Do you truly believe that child? Look at his eyes! He has been completely blinded by a murderous urge!"
Lady Oh's voice was filled with desperate emotion.
To an outsider, she would have seemed genuinely wronged.
'Foolish boy! Do you really think you can defeat me like this?'
Though it was the worst possible situation, Lady Oh did not give up.
She believed she still had a strong chance of winning.
That half-dead assassin couldn't serve as proper evidence.
She could easily claim that Jeok-un had tortured the man into naming her as the client.
Besides, unlike Jeok-un, who was born to a mother of humble commoner origins,
her own family was the Geumhwang Merchant Group, one of the three major merchant groups in the Central Plains.
"Sob... My Lord, do you truly not trust me after we have spent over twenty years together?"
She wept fat tears, appealing to Jegal Mun's emotions.
While Lady Oh appealed to Jegal Mun's heart, Jegal Wi-yeon took a more aggressive stance.
"Brother, why are you doing this to us! From your cowardly sneak attack during the Waryong Trial to this, what kind of grudge do you hold against us—!"
It happened in an instant.
Something even Jegal Mun had not anticipated occurred.
A cold, slicing sound suddenly rang out.
'...Eh?'
Jegal Wi-yeon was bewildered.
He was supposed to raise his voice further against Jeok-un, yet no sound would come from his throat.
...What was going on?
Before he could find an answer, his vision suddenly flipped upside down.
Soon, pitch-black darkness enveloped him.
Jegal Wi-yeon's severed head rolled across the floor of the Great Hall.
"Finally, you shut up."
Jeok-un, who had already drawn the Il-cheon sword from the floor, muttered quietly to himself.