Farewell on the Morning River

FAAAAH—!

The moment Namgung Cheon brought his sword down, the world was drowned in azure light.

Azure Sky All Phenomena Style — Heaven's Thunder Shatters the Sky.

And then—

KWAAAANG—!

With a thunderous roar, the water pillar burst apart in every direction, scattering a curtain of mist.

"Kghak!"

Blood sprayed from Jang Gwang's mouth. The internal energy he had poured out with everything he had reversed on itself, shaking his dantian to its core.

But it did not end there.

KRRK!

The cracks running across the boat widened steadily, and it began to sink straight into the river. Still reeling from the backlash, Jang Gwang lost his footing and was thrown headlong into the water.

SPLOOSH!

A small spray of water leapt up.

"……"

The Golden Dragon Ship fell into silence. Everyone clung to the railing, breath held, staring into the mist that veiled the aftermath. No one could tell who had won—whether anyone had even survived at all.

After a moment, the thickly rising mist began to thin, unraveled bit by bit by the river wind.

And when moonlight fell upon the water once more, a lone figure emerged from the fog.

"……!"

The crowd doubted their own eyes.

"Is that…… even possible?"

Someone murmured in a daze. The shattered fragments of the ferryboat were sinking, cleaved clean in two. And standing atop that single piece of driftwood was Namgung Cheon.

On one foot.

His black martial robes billowed in the river wind. It was only possible because not a single drop of water had touched him.

Clack.

Namgung Cheon slowly slid his sword into its sheath. Just as the onlookers finally came to their senses and were about to erupt in cheers—

"PWAH!"

Someone burst up out of the water. It was Jang Gwang. Clutching a plank of the broken boat, he heaved ragged breaths.

"Haah, haah…."

He swept the wet hair from his face and looked up at Namgung Cheon.

"Damn it all…."

Jang Gwang let out a hollow laugh. Then, slapping the surface of the water, he shouted,

"I lost! Lost clean as a whistle!"

At his hearty concession, the silent Golden Dragon Ship finally erupted into cheers.

"WAAAAH!"

"Namgung Cheon! Namgung Cheon!"

Even amid the celebration, Namgung Cheon did not spare the ship a single glance. He simply extended his hand toward Jang Gwang in the water.

"Come up. No one's about to toss you back out over a drink now."

A nonchalant, unadorned attitude. Jang Gwang stared blankly at the outstretched hand for a moment—then broke into a wide grin, clasped it, and hauled himself up.

"Haha! No wonder the Jeongmyeol Sword took up service with a gourmand! Ah—say, could I maybe…."

Tap.

Namgung Cheon let go of his hand.

"Wha—"

SPLOOSH!

"GLURP! Can't even take a joke?"

Jang Gwang's indignant protest echoed up from the river.

Tap.

When Namgung Cheon stepped lightly onto the deck—

"WAAAAH—!"

A roar shook the Golden Dragon Ship to its keel.

"Magnificent, truly!"

"A sword that cleaves a pillar of water!"

The orthodox late-blooming talents were beside themselves with excitement, clamoring over one another. Their eyes, fixed on Namgung Cheon, brimmed with pure, unfeigned awe.

Amid all the commotion, Namgung Cheon moved with an impassive expression.

Namgung Hwi approached.

"Cheon! I'm glad you came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through unharmed. And truly…."

Namgung Hwi's voice trembled almost imperceptibly.

"You were magnificent. I have no choice but to admit it."

The other talents who had followed in his wake scrambled to speak as well. Danri Chu shook his head as if he still couldn't believe it.

"I concur. To overwhelm the Yangtze River Dragon out on the open water—unthinkable."

Beside him, the Chivalrous Dragon, Myeongjin, nodded in admiration.

"Today I saw with my own eyes why the Namgung sword is called the finest under heaven."

Just then, Jang Gwang came up over the railing, wringing water from his clothes and grumbling.

"Oi, how come I'm the only one not getting any warm words here?"

His petulant complaint set the whole gathering off into laughter.

"Come and sit. Let's have a drink."

At that single remark, Jang Gwang's face brightened.

"Haha! That's our young master—big-hearted as ever!"

As Jang Gwang drew near, shaking out his soaked robes, Danri Chu laughed heartily and cut in.

"Might I join as well?"

"Of course."

Namgung Hwi answered readily and made room for him. With that as a spark, the renowned talents—Baek Yeop, Myeongjin, and more—began drifting one by one toward Namgung Cheon's table. Before long it was packed so tight there wasn't an empty seat to be found.

A strange gathering indeed, where orthodox and unorthodox, great clans and wanderers sat mingled together. Yet at its center, unmistakably, stood Namgung Cheon.

The drinks flowed deep into the night. Namgung Cheon himself was a man of few words who merely tipped his cup, but around him there was never a moment's quiet. Jang Gwang and Mujin traded banter without pause, keeping the mood bright, while Danri Chu, Baek Yeop, and Myeongjin launched into heated debates over the state of the Jianghu and the study of martial arts. And at the heart of every one of those conversations sat Namgung Cheon. Time and again, without quite realizing it, they sought his opinion, nodded at his brief remarks, and marveled.

Then, at some point, Namgung Hwi quietly rose from his seat. Cup in hand, he walked toward the railing. And yet, curiously, even with him gone, the warmth of the gathering never cooled. The crowd had already begun gathering naturally around Namgung Cheon in place of Namgung Hwi.

Leaning against the railing, Namgung Hwi watched the boisterous scene with a gentle smile. A younger brother who had become the center of the realm's finest talents even without him there. The sight filled him with pride—and, at the same time, felt strangely unfamiliar.

At some point Zhuge Seoyeon had come to stand beside him. Watching Namgung Cheon at the heart of the rowdy feast, she spoke.

"The Cheon I knew always kept to the corner of the room. Now look at him—from a staggering display of martial skill to effortlessly drawing people in. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It's remarkable. And rather lovely to watch."

"So it is."

Namgung Hwi gave a wry smile.

"There are times I wonder if that's really the same boy I knew. I can't help feeling I was too absorbed in other things all this while."

"Well, you were busy enough. The Murim Alliance's Sword Dragon hardly has a moment to breathe, does he?"

At Zhuge Seoyeon's teasing consolation, Namgung Hwi let out a hollow laugh. Her gaze settled on him.

"Still, Uncle, your face isn't exactly cheerful. Surely you're not sour about your little brother outshining you?"

"You jest too freely."

Namgung Hwi chuckled lightly, then gazed out over the dark river beyond the railing and spoke in a low voice.

"It's because of the Alliance's affairs—the very ones you take such pains to ignore."

Zhuge Seoyeon's eyes turned serious.

"……You mean Gansu."

"Yes. The Heavenly Will Squadron is mobilizing in person."

Namgung Hwi's voice sank low. The Heavenly Will Squadron. Among the Eight Heavens—the eight force divisions of which the Murim Alliance boasted—it was the elite of elites, rivaling even the seats of command. For them to be dispatched at all meant the situation had grown grave indeed.

"When the River-Along Martial Assembly ends, I too, as a member of the Heavenly Will Squadron, must depart for Gansu."

"……That sounds dangerous."

Zhuge Seoyeon's voice carried genuine concern.

"Dangerous, yes. But as the Alliance's sword, it is the chivalrous road I am bound to walk. Hardly a path I could turn away from."

Namgung Hwi drained his cup in one go.

"You take care as well. Like in the last Great War of Justice and Demons, the Zhuge Clan could well become their first target."

"Don't worry. We weren't easily breached back then either."

Zhuge Seoyeon replied flatly.

"Worry about yourself, Uncle."

A brief silence passed between them. The distant din of the revelry drifted over faintly. Namgung Hwi stole a glance toward where his younger brother sat.

One day, that boy too will have to face the shadow. When that time comes….

He thought no further. For now, he simply wished for his brother to enjoy this joyful feast to the fullest.

"……Let's go in. The night wind is cold."

Namgung Hwi turned first, and Zhuge Seoyeon followed without a word. But her gaze lingered a moment on Namgung Cheon's profile as he tipped his cup.

No need to worry about him, though.

A faint smile played across Zhuge Seoyeon's lips.

Should that great darkness all the world fears truly descend… her cousin would cut through it and shine the most brilliantly of all.

As the red sun rose over the waters of the Yangtze, the Golden Dragon Ship turned its prow toward Wuhan Ferry.

On the deck, still humming with the afterglow of the night-long feast, Jang Gwang was on his feet before the ship had even touched the pier.

"Well then, I'll be taking my leave here. The moment my feet touch dry land, nothing but troublesome business follows."

He stepped up onto the railing and flashed Namgung Cheon a grin.

"I had a grand time, young master! Until next time! Next time I'll host you in proper style, so feel free to come empty-handed!"

"I'll remember that."

At Namgung Cheon's curt reply, Jang Gwang laughed in evident satisfaction.

"Haha! Good, good!"

SPLOOSH!

He dove into the river without hesitation, striking out toward the boat where his men lay waiting. His receding back carved through the current—a departure as bold and free as the river itself.

Before long, with a dull thud, the Golden Dragon Ship docked at the pier. Though they had been up all night, the talents disembarking did not scatter at once. As if bound by some unspoken promise, they each approached Namgung Cheon and offered their solemn farewells.

"That sword you showed us. I don't think I'll ever forget it as long as I live."

Danri Chu clasped Namgung Cheon's hand firmly.

"Come to the Murim Alliance someday, and let me know. As Little Hero Jang said, I'll see you entertained in grand fashion."

"I will."

The Chivalrous Dragon, Myeongjin, bowed low in turn.

"Thank you for the profound enlightenment you have granted me. May the Supreme Elder Lord walk beside you always."

One after another, a host of others came to pay their respects. Among them, the farewells of those who had shared his table through the night carried a sincerity all their own.

The first to approach was Jo Wi of the Hyeongju Jo Clan. His face still flushed with excitement, he offered his parting words.

"Young master, truly… this was a night I will never forget! I will come find you one day, without fail."

At his guileless sincerity, Namgung Cheon—who rarely did so—gave a faint smile and nodded. Next, Lee Ja-seong of the White Lotus Sword Sect approached with a grave expression and took a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠respectful fist-and-palm stance.

"Thanks to you, young master, our White Lotus Sword Sect has gained great strength as well. The bond you forged between us and the Hwa Iron Forge—we will never regard it lightly. Should your travels ever bring you through Hunan, please do not forget us and seek out our sword sect. It is humble, but we wish to host you with all our hearts."

At his earnest words, Hwa Jincheok of the Hwa Iron Forge, standing beside him, guffawed and clapped his shoulder.

"Little hero, your speech is far too stiff! All he means is, if the young master comes, we'll pour him a proper drink—that's it!"

Hwa Jincheok bowed his head to Namgung Cheon.

"I'm thinking of heading to Hunan with this little hero myself. Once there, I'll inspect the White Lotus Sword Sect's weapons and discuss the swords we'll be forging for them going forward."

He glanced once at the sword at Namgung Cheon's waist and added,

"You won't be needing one, of course—but the next time we meet, I'll bring you a fine blade!"

Every farewell was heartfelt. These were not fleeting acquaintances, but people with whom they might one day walk the same road. And so Namgung Cheon, in turn, did not send them off carelessly.

"I will come visit without fail. Keep your word as you've given it."

"Haha, gladly. Then—may you fare well!"

With those words, the three departed. When everyone had gone, Namgung Hwi approached slowly.

The brothers stood facing each other in silence for a moment. At length, Namgung Hwi reached out and gripped his brother's shoulder. Warmth passed through his palm.

"Travel safely."

He continued in a gentle voice.

"The Jianghu is wide. Victory today guarantees nothing tomorrow, so stay careful, always. And…."

Namgung Hwi paused, then fixed his brother with deep, warm eyes.

"When things grow hard or wearying, come to the Murim Alliance whenever you wish. You—and as my brother—you will always be welcomed."

An offer steeped in the bond of blood—something his previous life as the Heavenly Demon had never once known.

"……Yes. May you prevail."

Namgung Hwi smiled, turned, and departed.

And so everyone was gone, and the pier grew quiet once more. The Yangtze, lit by the morning sun, flowed on in perfect calm, as if nothing had happened at all.

Namgung Cheon stood there a while, gazing out over the water. The River-Along Martial Assembly. He had first regarded it as nothing more than a tiresome formality. Having lived through it, however, he had found otherwise. He had gained a great deal here. By breaking the Yangtze River Dragon, he had proven his martial skill; he had built rapport with influential talents like Danri Chu and Myeongjin; and he had even won the support of the smaller sects, Jo Wi among them.

And above all—

I was not wrong.

The fact that his sword and his methods, though decades out of their age, could still prove their worth even in the Central Plains. The fact that, because of that, he could go further still. This, above everything, was the greatest harvest of the journey.

Just then, Zhuge Seoyeon, who had remained at his side, spoke quietly.

"Heading straight back to Anhui, are you? You'll need to report to the Clan Head as well."

Namgung Cheon fell into thought for a moment. It was still too soon to return to Anhui. More than anything—

That was enjoyable.

Leisure and delight he had never known in his previous life. Namgung Hwi was right: the Jianghu was vast. And in proportion, there was that much more to experience—and that experience could, in the end, turn both sword and life upside down.

Namgung Cheon turned his head toward Mujin, who stood behind him.

"Have some business of your own?"

"None. Where would a wanderer have anywhere to go? Wherever the young master goes is my road."

Mujin answered with a shrug. Namgung Cheon nodded, then spoke again to Zhuge Seoyeon.

"Then first, we go to Longzhong."

"……"

Zhuge Seoyeon's hand, holding her fan, froze mid-motion. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. But she was not the only one taken aback.

"Hmmm…."

A low groan escaped Mujin, standing beside them.

"Something the matter?"

At Namgung Cheon's question, Mujin jolted and waved his hands.

"Haha, no, nothing. What troubles could a drifter like me have?"

Mujin deflected with a bitter smile. It was a side of him Namgung Cheon had never seen. He and Zhuge Seoyeon both caught the strange undercurrent, but neither pressed him on it.

Zhuge Seoyeon spoke, as if to clear the air.

"That's a surprise. I assumed you'd go straight to Anhui."

"My mother asked me to, as well…."

Namgung Cheon's gaze turned toward the far horizon.

"There is someone I wish to meet."

One person—in his previous life, an enemy.

In a corner of the pier, concealed in shadow, stood a single lavish carriage. Its tightly shut window slid open a crack. At once, a warrior who had disembarked from the Golden Dragon Ship drew near and whispered discreetly against it.

"…I bring a report, sir. Young master Namgung Cheon has broken the Yangtze River Dragon. And utterly, at that."

The warrior's report continued.

"Throughout the gathering as well, he held the entire company in his grasp and served as its very pivot."

Beyond the window, a man let out a low chuckle.

"More impressive than expected."

He slowly raised his teacup. A subtle fragrance of tea filled the heavy air inside the carriage.

"Namgung Cheon… A sound investment, I'd say."

Setting down his cup, the man closed the window.

Tap.

At that sound as its signal, the driver cracked his whip. The carriage stirred, kicking up dust as it began to roll. And the morning sun fell upon a single character, lavishly embroidered across its side—

Commerce.

The emblem of those who gripped all under heaven in a fist of gold.