Rupture with the Chwi Hwa Bangju
Nak Pung-hyeon narrowed his brows. His face had swiftly regained its original color.
"A refusal? That's unexpected. What's the reason?"
"What you just spilled is nothing more than a one-sided tale from your perspective."
"...You think I'm lying?"
"Maybe. I don't usually buy into the ramblings of drunks claiming they spill the truth under the influence. Pity. Things were nice earlier when we were just sharing drinks in silence."
Nak Pung-hyeon stared silently at Yi Jinpyeong. In a subdued voice, he said,
"Why do you think I'm lying?"
"Reasons abound. To achieve your goals, or to hide your dirty secrets."
"Disappointing. To think you'd see me as some lowlife scum."
"No need for disappointment. Everyone tells big and small lies. I understand perfectly—I've got a broad mind."
"Don't insult me further. I'm the Chwi Hwa Bangju. I started from the dirtiest, lowest depths with nothing, and now I've built a faction everyone acknowledges. You think a few words can tear me down?"
His tone was rigid. The atmosphere was like ice. His hand hovered near the sword at his waist, as if ready to draw it at any moment.
But Yi Jinpyeong paid him no mind, continuing his mockery.
"Quite the pride you've got. But how about this story instead? Forget the tale of a young warrior moved by a kid's words and gifting a martial arts manual. Picture a brat rifling through the pockets of a battered, blackout-drunk warrior, stealing every valuable he could find. Which rings truer? Far more convincing and plausible, wouldn't you say? It even explains why you've never returned that book all these years."
A ripple crossed Nak Pung-hyeon's sharp features right then. His face shifted from white to red to blue, cycling through colors before finally settling back to normal with effort.
After a long silence, he forced his mouth open.
"I came back several times. Feeling I'd received something beyond my worth. But your father wouldn't meet me."
"No way. My father met even roadside beggars, giving away every scrap we had. And you're saying he avoided you alone all those long years?"
Nak Pung-hyeon calmly lifted his cup. But it was already empty. He stared at the vacant vessel for a long moment before continuing.
"...Fine. It's true I haven't visited Yi Gajang in all that time. I was already deep into the martial arts in that book—couldn't bring myself to return it. I saw it as my one escape from a wretched fate of scraping the bottom and collapsing."
Yi Jinpyeong laughed coldly. Seeing that expression, Nak Pung-hyeon raised his voice in fury.
"But that's all it was. Everything else is true! Your father was drunk off his ass, sure, but he handed me that book himself. I didn't steal it! I just didn't give it back! Is that a crime?! You think that's reason to humiliate me like this?!"
His rough shout echoed through Yi Gajang's compound.
Maybe Nak Pung-hyeon was telling the truth. Maybe their father had handed the family martial arts to an outsider himself. Trapped by his own limits, the clan crumbling, old legacies chaining him down. A man battered by the world's mockery and neglect—what couldn't he do in despair?
But Yi Jinpyeong's response remained icy.
"Look here. You've already lied to me once. How can I trust you now?"
"Over just that one thing—"
"Think it's just that one? Yi Gajang hit rock bottom over the years. When I snapped out of my madness and came to my senses, what did I see first? My brothers with nothing for the ancestral rite but shriveled jujubes on the table. If you truly felt indebted to Yi Gajang, was it right to let your benefactor's house fall this far? And weren't you hoarding this fine liquor deep in your quarters until recently, whining about having no one to share it with? Only now do you bring up old ties, talking alliances. Would you have bothered if I weren't around? Convenient how you dust off that 'karma' when it suits you."
"......"
"You're just a fake mimicking righteousness and chivalry. A pitiful wretch scrambling to cover your lowly origins. I'm not playing along with your charade. Teaming up with a gang peddling booze and women? An alliance that was doomed from the start."
Yi Jinpyeong's words cut beyond sharp—crossing the line.
Bam! Unable to stomach the mockery, Nak Pung-hyeon shot to his feet. Hand on his sword hilt.
Yi Jinpyeong said,
"Draw it, and you die."
A chill wind blew. Yi Jinpyeong didn't stir. He just calmly puffed his pipe.
Yet from this boy emanated an overwhelming pressure Nak Pung-hyeon dared not challenge. Not mere difference in inner energy depth or martial prowess—an absolute dignity and presence.
Nak Pung-hyeon stared at Yi Jinpyeong with a hardened face. Only after a long stretch did he speak, voice strained.
"You're right. If my subordinates hadn't told me of your martial level, I wouldn't have come here. And yes, I've ignored Yi Gajang's plight."
"But I don't think it was wrong. Every moment, I chose the best for myself and my faction. Same now. I desperately need a breakthrough, so I tried leveraging our past ties. That's it."
"Curse my lies, my cowardice—fine. But don't insult my origins. Do you know the blood, sweat, and tears it took for me, my men, the women in my faction to break free from a fate sealed before we were born?"
His final words sounded like vomiting blood.
Yi Jinpyeong gave no reply. But in Nak Pung-hyeon's wail, he saw echoes of his brothers—and their father, huddled sobbing in some back alley.
The descendants of the world's greatest, Yi Gyeol, born against their will into that shadow, compared endlessly, pointed at, declining lifetime after lifetime.
The two watched each other for a long while. Nak Pung-hyeon released the sword hilt and turned away.
Either way, the talks had collapsed.
"Pity. For a moment, I thought we could be good friends."
"We might have. If you'd been a bit more honest."
"Is that so crucial? Forces gunning for Yi Gajang will be endless. Even if parts displease you, isn't chasing real gains with flexibility far more vital?"
"We're Yi Gajang. Once the greatest under heaven, soon to be again. Don't think half-hearted resolve makes you fit as my subordinate."
"...I never offered to be your subordinate. I proposed alliance."
"Same difference. And take this book back."
"It's Yi Gajang's by right."
"Take it. Don't need it."
Yi Jinpyeong added,
"Got plenty like this."
Alone after the Chwi Hwa Bangju departed, Yi Jinpyeong puffed his pipe in the empty outer courtyard—recalling the image of his father Nak Pung-hyeon described.
Hiding in a dark alley, weeping bitterly alone...
A bitter taste filled his mouth.
"Foolish old man..."
Why cry like that, a grown man with sons? If he had to weep, Yi Gajang had plenty of private spots—why hide in some filthy back alley?
Shameful. Heartbreaking, too.
His harshness toward Nak Pung-hyeon might've been to mask that shame and softening heart.
'That said... Cloud Sword Three Absolutes...'
He recalled the book Nak Pung-hyeon had offered.
No wonder he'd sensed something oddly familiar about the man—it stemmed from mastering an art Yi Gyeol himself created.
Yi Gajang's essence was Gwi Hwa Yeon Cheon Gong, but its nature-attuned heart method was overly arcane, limited to bloodline heirs with the right affinity.
Most derived arts stemmed from it, raising barriers ever higher for descendants.
Thus, the world's greatest, Yi Gyeol, crafted Cloud Sword Three Absolutes for those cut off—fusing sword, heart, and footwork intricacies.
A sword art, yet a complete martial system in itself.
But cramming it all made it as profound and complex as Gwi Hwa Yeon Cheon Gong.
Aim for simplicity, birth complexity—a failure.
Yet it flowed to Nak Pung-hyeon, yielding great achievement. Proof every art finds its match.
Like his eldest brother Jin-gang completing the unfinished Blue Sky One Road himself...
Moments later, confirming silence all around, Gang Ryong and Chief Steward Gwak approached cautiously.
"The Chwi Hwa Bangju just left? What happened? What'd he say?"
"Proposed an alliance."
"Eek!"
"Turned him down."
"Eeeek!!!!!"
His two subordinates gaped. Especially Gwak, eyes brimming with disbelief.
Before the nagging started, Yi Jinpyeong swiftly changed tack.
"Anyway, Gang Ryong. You had something to tell me earlier, right?"
"Ah! Almost forgot!"
Gang Ryong smacked his palm loudly.
"Young master, that woman you've kidnapped and locked up? When I took her food earlier, she asked me to relay a message. Says she's realized it's an offer she can't refuse, so she'll accept her fate now..."
His trailing words and shifty eyes were suspicious. Gwak narrowed his own eyes similarly.
What were these guys imagining?
"Wording's off. Kidnapped, locked up, can't-refuse offer?"
"But that's the truth—"
"Ahem."
"Shutting up now."
Yi Jinpyeong turned toward the warehouse holding the Dongbeonhoe woman.