The Guest Who Came to Fight
The Hwangbo Clan, the Shandong Ak Clan, and the Namgung Clan.
They were all waiting, it seemed, for one man alone — Namgung Cheon.
Mujin hastily shut his gaping mouth and coughed awkwardly into his fist.
"Ahem. So... you're telling me the patriarchs of two great clans are both waiting on the young master personally?"
Namgung Un nodded, letting out a long sigh.
"The two patriarchs haven't said anything outright, but the atmosphere in the Self-Recommendation Pavilion, where the banquet is being held, grows heavier by the hour."
Deep exhaustion was etched across his face.
A trace of sympathy crept into Mujin's eyes as he studied the man.
He was called the Chief Internal Steward, yet he was a young man barely approaching the age of thirty — close to Mujin's own. No doubt he was talented enough to shoulder the burdens of a great clan, but facing the titans of two world-renowned families would test even a man of his caliber.
Namgung Un seemed to reach a decision and spoke up.
"I'll return and report the situation again for now. I have no better option..."
Just as he was turning to leave —
Creeeeak—
The door of the residence, which had been sealed tight without a whisper of movement, slowly swung open.
Both men's gazes snapped toward it at once.
And there, at last, stood Namgung Cheon.
Three days of seclusion had left a dark stubble on his jaw, and his clothes hung rumpled and disheveled.
Mujin studied him for a moment, then thought to himself:
...I really can't read him anymore.
Before the seclusion, he had been able to sense Namgung Cheon's presence with perfect clarity — an aura infinitely sharp, yet weighted and sinking deep. But now, he could feel nothing from the man at all. Stranger still, there was something almost carefree lingering in his eyes.
"......"
"......"
It wasn't only Mujin.
Namgung Un, too, sensed the subtle change and found himself speechless.
And so the two men stood there in silence, staring at Namgung Cheon for a long while.
It was a peculiar situation — two grown men quietly gawking at him.
Namgung Cheon's brow furrowed. He swept his gaze over the pair and spoke in a low voice.
"If you have no business with me, I'll be going back in."
At that, Namgung Un started in alarm.
"Ah — my apologies. Yes, we do have business. A very important one."
Having collected himself, Namgung Un reported the situation once more: that the Hwangbo Clan and the Shandong Ak Clan had arrived and a banquet was underway; that they had named Namgung Cheon and requested a sparring match; and finally, that everyone had been waiting on him for three days.
He continued in a somewhat urgent tone.
"We must hurry with preparations, so I'll summon the attendants first."
At those words, Namgung Cheon seemed to sink into thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"No need. Wait just a moment, please."
"Understood, young master."
Namgung Un stepped back without pressing further.
Namgung Cheon disappeared back inside the residence.
Thud.
The door closed,
"......"
and Namgung Un stared blankly at it.
Only moments ago, he had been frantic, every second feeling precious — but now that urgency had vanished as though it had never existed. Instead, he found himself overwhelmed by the change he had sensed in Namgung Cheon, unable to collect his thoughts.
I couldn't sense... any energy from him at all.
When the young master had returned from the scouting mission, his bearing had gleamed like a freshly honed blade. Yet now, nothing radiated from him whatsoever.
And yet... nothing at all.
Like a still lake of unknowable depth, his power was gathered flawlessly within.
A true master hides his strength inside and draws it from the sheath only when needed. That was precisely what the Third Young Master was now.
Only then did Namgung Un fully understand why the Lady of the house, Jegal Hwa, watched the Third Young Master so intently.
While Namgung Un was quietly reappraising the man, the door opened once more.
"......?"
At the sight of Namgung Cheon stepping out, Namgung Un doubted his own eyes.
His previously unruly hair was now tied neatly, but the clothes Namgung Cheon wore were far from the ornate formal robes one would don to greet honored guests.
A plain black martial uniform, fitted close to the body — made for nothing but combat.
Worse, both swords hung at his waist: Changcheon and Mukhon, fully belted and ready.
"Young master?"
Bewilderment spilled unbidden from Namgung Un's lips.
"That attire is..."
By custom, formal exchanges between great clans — particularly sparring among the younger generation — demanded proper courtesy toward one another. The tradition was to enjoy the banquet in refined dress, and when the time came, both sides would retire by mutual agreement, change into martial attire, exchange courtesies, and only then cross blades. That was the way of a prestigious clan.
Yet Namgung Cheon was disregarding every step of that protocol from the very start.
He was dressed as though he might fight then and there.
While Namgung Un floundered, unsure what to do, laughter burst from the lips of Mujin, who stood beside him.
"Haha, that's our young master for you."
Payin no mind to either man's reaction, Namgung Cheon said quietly:
"Let's be going. To greet our guests."
On the third day of the ongoing banquet, a heavy silence hung over the private chamber of the Self-Recommendation Pavilion.
From beyond the door, the festive music and dancing drifted in faint and distant, while inside, only three great lords sat drinking in silence.
The first to break the quiet was the Lord of the Hwangbo Clan — the Fist King, Hwangbo U.
"I've received reports that the movements of the North Sea Ice Palace are far from ordinary. Since the new Palace Lord took her seat, their expansion has been relentless."
At his words, the Lord of the Shandong Ak Clan — the Spear King, Ak Paesan — nodded gravely.
"The Green Forest is much the same. Ever since a new Chief Bandit rose to power, they've moved not like a band of brigands but like an army. Nothing like it was ten years ago."
The two patriarchs spoke of the heavy state of the martial world, then turned their eyes toward Namgung Mugang at the head of the table — as if asking his thoughts on the coming winter.
Namgung Mugang drained his cup and answered quietly.
"If winter comes, we fell the winter. As we did with the Demonic Cult."
"...Heh heh. Same as ever, I see."
Hwangbo U burst into a hollow laugh.
The simplest answer in the world — and the hardest one to give.
It was an answer worthy of the World's Greatest Sword.
"Easy for the Sword Emperor to say. But we're old men now, friend. We can't stand at the front forever. In the end, it will be our children's era..."
Just as Hwangbo U's voice trailed off in wistfulness —
"...!"
Hwangbo U, Ak Paesan, even Namgung Mugang —
the eyes of all three patriarchs shot to a single spot at the same instant.
Hwangbo U swallowed dryly and asked Ak Paesan in a transmitted whisper.
—This aura... who in the world is it?
Ak Paesan answered, his own secret voice thick with shock.
—I have no idea. Was there another existence like this in the Namgung Clan?
While the two lords reeled, the faintest of smiles touched the corner of Namgung Mugang's mouth.
At that moment, the guard standing watch outside the chamber door cried out, his voice carrying forceful inner energy.
"The Third Young Master — Young Master Namgung Cheon has arrived!"
Shock flashed across the two patriarchs' faces once more.
The master of this overwhelming presence... was the Third Young Master, barely past his coming of age?
Namgung Mugang rose from his seat.
"Let us go out. It seems the star of the hour has finally arrived."
All manner of resplendent garments glittered in the light of the hanging lanterns.
"......?"
Every gaze in the hall turned toward the man who had just entered — Namgung Cheon.
Or rather, toward his clothing.
He wore black from head to toe — a martial uniform as dark as if he had set out on a night raid.
A lone streak of black cutting regally through the riot of color in the banquet hall.
The eyes of the assembled guests naturally followed every step he took.
Crossing the length of the hall, Namgung Cheon at last came to a halt before Namgung Mugang, bowed in respect, and spoke.
"Your son greets the Clan Head. I beg your forgiveness for my late arrival."
A courteous greeting, flawless in its etiquette.
Namgung Mugang acknowledged it with a silent nod.
Jegal Hwa, seated beside him, spoke with a gentle smile.
"It would seem you had good reason for it."
Then she turned her gaze toward Hwangbo U and Ak Paesan.
"Pay your respects to the two patriarchs as well."
Namgung Cheon turned to face the two lords and bowed.
"I am Namgung Cheon, Third Young Master of the Namgung Clan. It is an honor to greet you, patriarchs."
Hwangbo U threw back his head and laughed heartily.
"Heh heh, when did you grow up so tall? The last I saw you, you were a babe in swaddling clothes. Come to think of it, word of you has traveled from Anhui all the way to Shandong of late."
Ak Paesan chimed in.
"I hear the Twin Blade Storm of Shandong lost to you as well. Is it true?"
Namgung Cheon paused, searching his memory.
The Twin Blade Storm? Did I ever spar with anyone by that name?
Then it came to him.
Ah — one of the pair who showed up during the meal, wasn't it?
He answered shortly, his voice devoid of inflection.
"Yes. Something of the sort happened."
"Ho... I see. But..."
Ak Paesan's gaze swept over Namgung Cheon once, from head to toe.
"Might I ask why you've come dressed in martial attire?"
At that question, Namgung Cheon's eyes swept the seated guests of the younger generation for the first time.
Soon, his gaze came to rest on a single point.
The most accomplished martial artist among the young men from the Hwangbo Clan — and the spitting image of Hwangbo U himself.
It was Hwangbo Gun, young lord of the Hwangbo Clan.
Namgung Cheon looked him dead in the eye and spoke.
"I hear the young lord of the Hwangbo Clan wishes to spar with me."
The air in the hall sank once more.
Just as Ak Paesan slowly nodded in affirmation and opened his mouth to speak —
Hwangbo U's frantic secret transmission struck Ak Paesan's ear.
—No, don't! He'll shred him like the Twin Blade Storm!
But the son, utterly oblivious to his father's distress —
"That's right! I heard the tales of Namgung Cheon and I could hardly stand it — I simply must cross blades with you!"
Hwangbo Gun sprang to his feet and declared with booming enthusiasm.
"Hwangbo Gun!"
Hwangbo U called out his son's name in reprimand, but it was far too late.
Payin no heed to his father's attempt at restraint, Hwangbo Gun squared off toward Namgung Cheon and took a proud fist stance.
"Hwangbo Gun, young lord of the Hwangbo Clan, formally requests a sparring match with Young Master Namgung Cheon!"
An awkward silence settled over the hall.
Hwangbo U's face had gone rigid, faced with cleaning up the mess his son had made unbidden, while Namgung Mugang remained as silent as ever.
Then, Namgung Cheon spoke first.
"If Lord Hwangbo will permit it, might I attach one condition to this match?"
At his words, every gaze swung toward Hwangbo U.
He made a face of clear displeasure, but under the eyes pressing in from all sides, he reluctantly nodded.
"...Very well. Speak."
At that, Namgung Cheon slowly unbuckled both swords at his waist — Changcheon and Mukhon — and set them down upon a nearby table with a deliberate clatter.
Then, empty-handed, he looked at Hwangbo Gun and said quietly:
"I, too, will face this match bare-handed."
Silence.
Just as everyone stood struck speechless by his words —
"HAHAHAHA!"
Hwangbo U's thunderous laughter rang through the hall.
His face was split by a smile brimming with interest.
He turned toward Namgung Mugang at the head of the table.
"Sword Emperor, you've raised your son to be a fascinating one! To dare speak of fists before the Hwangbo Clan, of all houses!"
Then Hwangbo U rose from his seat and addressed his son.
"Show him, Gun. Show him how unbreakable the fists of Hwangbo truly are."
His expression turned to ice.
And he added a single word, low and heavy.
"Absolutely."
The Heavenly Demon of Namgung
Author | Baek Rihaeng
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dreambooks
Address | 7F, Gwangseong Building, 28 Bongeunsa-ro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, South Korea
ISBN | 979-11-7306-734-1
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