The Hidden Dragon Leaves the Pond

Namgung Mugang and Jegal Hwa gazed quietly into the darkness of the Heavenly Martial Vault.

How much time had passed?

Namgung Mugang spoke in a low voice. "You have come."

Footsteps echoed from deep within the darkness. And soon after, Namgung Cheon emerged into view.

His black combat attire was slashed and tattered in every direction—likely the result of passing through the Sword Forest. Aside from that, he looked little different from when he had entered. And yet.

He has changed.

Namgung Mugang read his son's transformation at a single glance. His energy had been brought to flawless order. He had not yet reached the realm of returning to simplicity after discarding refinement, but the depth with which he commanded his power had advanced by leaps and bounds.

Namgung Cheon stopped before the two of them and bowed his head in silence, offering a formal salute. Every single motion carried a composure that had not been there before.

Namgung Mugang's eyes went to his son's chest. Just as on the way in, his hands were empty.

The things sleeping within the Heavenly Martial Vault were, each and every one, singular artifacts capable of sending storms of blood sweeping across the river. And he had taken not a single one of them?

Impossible.

This was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠boy who had walked out of the Sword Soul Cave with two swords. There was no way such a child would leave this vault with nothing at all.

Namgung Mugang looked his son straight in the eye and asked, "What did you bring out?"

Namgung Cheon saw through the intent behind the question at once. So there is no fooling him after all. He had taken no treasure—but he had gained something worth far more. He looked deep within himself, at the energy of the Jeongmyeol Sword Art carved into his very being, then lifted his head and met Namgung Mugang's gaze with unwavering eyes.

"I obtained the thing I needed most."

That one answer was enough. What treasure he had acquired, what secret manual he had learned—none of it mattered. What Namgung Mugang had sought to ask about was not the result, but the size of the vessel that carried it.

The thing you needed...

Namgung Mugang studied his son's eyes deeply. A profound stillness dwelled there, one that had not existed before. He had believed he knew everything that lay within the Heavenly Martial Vault.

Apparently not.

To find a pearl buried in soil that even its owner had never thought to examine—and not some gaudy treasure on display, but something that would fill the inside of a man.

A clear smile of satisfaction spread across Namgung Mugang's lips. "Then that is enough."

A short, blunt verdict—the judgment of a patriarch granting passage, and the recognition of one warrior to another.

Just then, Jegal Hwa, standing at his side, spoke in a gentle voice. "Cheon."

"Yes, Mother."

"There is no longer any reason for you to remain in Anhui, is there?"

At her words, Namgung Mugang silently looked at his son. He, too, showed no sign of disputing it.

Jegal Hwa continued, "The Yeon-gang Muhoe. I know you earned your place there, yet care little for it. But the world is wider than you imagine."

Namgung Cheon fell silent for a moment. The Yeon-gang Muhoe. He had considered it a gathering with no particular reason to attend. But that was no longer true. The insight gained in the Heavenly Martial Vault had carried his martial learning into new territory, and the vessel called Anhui had grown far too small for him.

I must leave.

A long time had passed since his death as the Heavenly Demon. The Central Plains were no longer the place he had known. A changed world, new strongmen—to complete his own azure sky, he would have to see all of it with his own eyes and clash against it head-on.

A faint smile touched Namgung Cheon's lips. "I was already thinking—"

His gaze lifted toward the vast sky.

"—that the time to go out had come."

At that answer, a deep smile bloomed across Jegal Hwa's face. "Good. Make your preparations. Go, and widen those eyes of yours."

Namgung Mugang nodded as well and quietly added, "Well considered."

The three of them turned and walked on. Behind them, the sealed doors of the Heavenly Martial Vault receded into the distance. Namgung Cheon clenched and unclenched his fist lightly.

Now it begins.

A new world to face as Namgung Cheon—not as the Heavenly Demon. And its first step was already drawing near.

The broad plaza leading to the Great Training Ground of the Namgung Clan. Morning sunlight poured down between the soaring halls that seemed to pierce the heavens, scattering brilliant light across the polished bluestone flags below.

Ordinarily the vast training ground would have been filled with the battle cries of warriors—but today, only a single figure stood upon it: Namgung Cheon. A dark blue ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠traveling cloak draped over his black combat attire, with the Namgung clan's Changcheon and the ink-black sheathed Mukhon hanging side by side at his waist.

Namgung Cheon closed his eyes briefly and breathed in the air around him. A gathering of mere children. A strange tension stirred in him that the Heavenly Demon would never have felt. Am I finally growing accustomed to this name, Namgung?

He exhaled shortly and opened his eyes. And then—

"Doesn't look like I'm late!"

A voice shattered the stillness, ringing across the training ground. Every gaze turned toward the sound: a man sprinting toward them, a pack the size of his own body strapped to his back and a sword in one hand, gasping for breath.

It was Mujin of the Jeongmyeol Sword.

Namgung Cheon's brow creased faintly. He's been gone for days, and now he turns up out of nowhere? And in that ridiculous getup, no less.

Mujin stopped in front of Namgung Cheon, heaving for breath. "Haah, haah. What a relief. You haven't left yet."

"Are you off on some long journey?" Namgung Cheon asked, tilting his chin toward Mujin's pack. It was stuffed to the point of bursting. Mujin grinned and hitched it higher on his shoulder.

"That I am. Got to travel all the way to Hubei, so of course there's a fair bit to carry."

"Hubei?"

"That's right, Hubei!" Mujin answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Namgung Cheon stared at him, utterly incredulous.

"And when, exactly, did I say I would take you along?"

"Oh, don't be so cold. It was all very well when you were taking me on as your table companion, wasn't it?" Mujin clutched at his chest in exaggerated wounded innocence. Namgung Cheon let out a dry laugh.

"A table companion who tags along behind his host isn't helping—he's just eating through your rice. This is no pleasure trip."

Namgung Cheon was firm. Besides, Mujin was, in the end, an outsider. For a young master of the clan to bring an outside swordsman to an official event reflected poorly on them both.

As Namgung Cheon turned dismissively toward the carriage, Mujin darted around to block his path. "Hold on, hold on! Young master, I think you've got something badly mistaken."

Mujin cleared his throat with a serious expression. "I know I've been playing at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠being your table companion and all, but have you forgotten who I am?"

"And who might that be?"

"I am the disciple of Nangwang, that's who."

Mujin thumped his own chest with his thumb. In place of his usual mischief, a strange pride rested on his face.

"So?"

"'So'?! It means I'm going too—to the Yeon-gang Muhoe!"

Mujin pulled something from inside his coat and thrust it in front of Namgung Cheon's nose. It was a luxurious letter adorned with ornate gold leaf, its two characters—Invitation—glowing vividly in red ink at the center.

An invitation to the Yeon-gang Muhoe.

"For all I look it, I was formally invited," Mujin said, smiling.

Namgung Cheon's eyes lingered on the invitation for a moment. It was true that a disciple of Nangwang more than qualified. Even so, he continued to stare at Mujin with an expression of pure disbelief.

"...Isn't the Yeon-gang Muhoe a gathering of rising young talents?" he asked, with the utmost seriousness and entirely genuine puzzlement.

...

Silence. Mujin's laughter cut off abruptly, and his face stiffened in an instant.

Baek Heon, standing nearby, involuntarily sucked in a breath and turned away, while So-so covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking. Mujin's eyebrows twitched violently.

"Young master. Are you finding a roundabout way to call me old just now?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"I'm not beating around anything. I simply asked."

"I am a rising talent too, I'll have you know!" Mujin protested with great indignation. "I'm a bit past the age of full vigor, but I still fall within the range of a rising talent, that's what I'm saying."

Strictly speaking, Mujin was not wrong. In the river, the standard for a rising young talent generally ran from around the age of full vigor to one's mid-thirties—and Mujin sat precariously right on that dividing line.

Mujin grumbled as he straightened his clothes. "Anyway, I'm headed the same way, so let's travel together. What's the harm in a companion on the road? With your temperament, young master, those two would suffocate halfway there without me to liven things up."

He shot a sly glance at Baek Heon and So-so. The two could hardly bring themselves to agree, and averted their eyes with awkward expressions.

Watching their reactions, Namgung Cheon smiled wryly to himself. Was I truly such a difficult and oppressive master to serve?

He considered it for a moment. Then—

"...Do as you like."

As Namgung Cheon reluctantly gave his permission, Mujin beamed. "Knew you'd come around. My carriage-driving skills are second to none under heaven."

And then—

"Is everything in readiness?"

The deep, dignified voice from behind quelled the commotion at once. A voice that needed no glance to recognize. Namgung Cheon turned slowly.

Namgung Mugang stood on the steps beyond the main gate, where they led down to the training ground. At his side, Jegal Hwa wore a gentle smile, and behind them the clan's senior figures stood in formation, led by Grand Elder Namgung Gyeong.

A send-off. The elders of the clan had all turned out to see him off.

Mujin and Baek Heon hastily abandoned what they were doing and hurried down to bow. Namgung Cheon straightened his rumpled clothing and walked slowly toward them.

One step. Then another. With each step, the enormous presence Namgung Mugang radiated pressed against his skin. It felt deeper, vaster than it had mere days ago—precisely because he himself had grown, he could now perceive its true scale with such clarity.

Namgung Cheon stopped before his parents and assumed a formal fist salute. "I greet the Lord and Lady of the clan."

Namgung Mugang looked down at his son in silence. A black combat attire, and two swords at the waist. An unadorned appearance, without a trace of ornament or ostentation—and yet the presence radiating from that simplicity overwhelmed any grandeur imaginable. It was the chill of a famed blade freshly forged, sleeping yet within its sheath.

Namgung Mugang gave a short nod. Beside him, Jegal Hwa smiled and spoke. "Cheon."

"Yes, Mother."

"The Yeon-gang Muhoe is where the pillars who will lead the martial world gather. So the name of Namgung must stand before them as the mightiest of those pillars."

She continued with her warm smile. "Hwi is occupied with affairs of the Meng, so he will join you directly in Wuhan. Go, and reconcile with your brothers after so long apart."

"...I understand."

Jegal Hwa gazed quietly at Namgung Cheon, still smiling. Then, as if suddenly remembering, she added, "Ah, and one more thing."

"..."

"If you have the time, pay a visit to your mother's family as well. Longzhong is not so far out of the way."

Her mother's family—the Jegal Clan. Namgung Cheon paused for an instant, then nodded. "I understand."

With that, Namgung Cheon offered his formal farewell, turned, and climbed into the carriage.

"We depart."

At his command, Baek Heon cracked the whip. "Departing now!"

Neigh! The horses cried out with vigor and beat the ground. The great gates of the clan swung wide open, and the carriage rolled out into the world beneath the cascading morning light.

Jegal Hwa watched the receding figure until it grew small, then spoke softly. "The hidden dragon of Namgung has at last left the pond."

Namgung Mugang gazed after the departing carriage, then shortly nodded.