The Road Home

A day had passed.

They had recovered from the poison and finished their preparations to leave, and it was still early morning.

Mujin stepped out of the guest room, stretched, and spoke to Namgung Cheon.

"Fine weather today. Care to take a walk before we set off? The morning air is rather refreshing."

Namgung Cheon nodded. There was no reason to hurry.

The two walked slowly along the path leading from the White Lotus Sword Sect up into the mountains.

It was a quiet morning where nothing could be heard but birdsong and the wind.

The tension and bloody battles of the past days felt like a dream in such tranquility.

They had walked for a long while and were returning, nearing the training grounds, when it happened.

"Look over there."

Mujin stopped and pointed toward one corner of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠training grounds.

There sat Lee Ja-seong alone in meditation.

His posture was unshaken, his breathing calm.

He was spending his time in his own way, sprouting the seed Namgung Cheon had planted in him the night before.

"A stubborn one, that man. He absorbed your killing intent all night, and here he sits, hale and hearty after just a day."

To Mujin's admiration, Namgung Cheon silently nodded.

By cold assessment, the Lee Ja-seong he had seen was not a man born with any remarkable martial talent.

But.

Talent is not everything that makes a martial artist.

A tenacity beyond mere persistence — that dogged, unyielding ferocity.

That was a martial artist's greatest weapon.

Men like that are the ones who endure to the very end.

Surviving the great battlefield called the Jianghu.

That, in the truest sense, was what made a man strong.

In that sense, Lee Ja-seong was certain to become strong.

Then, sensing their presence, Lee Ja-seong slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze was far deeper and clearer than before.

"I trust you have been well."

Lee Ja-seong rose from his seat and offered a respectful cupped-fist salute.

Namgung Cheon nodded.

"It seems the Young Sect Leader's sword has finally found its path."

"It is all thanks to you, my lord."

Deep gratitude filled Lee Ja-seong's voice.

"You are my benefactor, and the benefactor of the White Lotus Sword Sect."

The path he himself must walk was one and the same with the path of the White Lotus Sword Sect.

And so it was no stretch to call Namgung Cheon the sect's benefactor.

Lee Ja-seong bowed deeply once more.

In place of an answer, Namgung Cheon returned a light bow.

Into that brief silence came footsteps — unfamiliar, yet somehow welcome.

Tap, tap.

The sound of several people running lightly.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward the sound at once.

Baek Heon led a group of children whose white training robes, embroidered with lotus flowers, fluttered as they approached.

"Oh! You've finished the entrance rites already?"

Mujin asked, his eyes rounding in surprise.

Lee Ja-seong nodded with a warm smile.

"Yes. My father departed on a journey and entrusted me with all the sect's affairs. Besides — with such precious talent as this, shouldn't we welcome them into our sword sect as family as soon as possible?"

Mujin burst out laughing at his words.

"Haha! Seems the children have won the Young Sect Leader's heart. Good for them."

Soon the children lined up before Namgung Cheon and Mujin.

Tension over the unfamiliar surroundings — and the parting to come — hung on their young faces.

Mujin chuckled and addressed them.

"So they say clothes make the man, eh? Put you lot in martial robes and you look proper little warriors already."

Mujin clapped the shoulder of the tallest among them — Sobaek.

"You'll have to do well here from now on. Understand?"

Sobaek nodded without a word.

Then he stole a glance at the other children.

As if on cue, they all took a single step back in unison.

Slap!

All five bowed in a perfectly synchronized cupped-fist salute.

Still a little clumsy, but a warrior's etiquette that had already taken shape.

"……!"

As Namgung Cheon and Mujin watched in astonishment, Baek Heon stood beside them, scratching his head in embarrassment.

"Did you teach them that?"

At Namgung Cheon's question, Baek Heon nodded.

"Yes, my lord. They were entering a martial sect, after all — I thought they ought to at least know the basic courtesies, so I taught them in my spare moments. They're all quick-witted; they learned in no time."

Namgung Cheon looked back and forth between Baek Heon's fond expression and the children, who stood at rigid attention with their fists still raised.

"We will never forget your kindness!"

With Sobaek leading the cry, the children shouted in unison.

Words from the heart, for the benefactor who had dragged them out of hell and opened the door to a new life.

Namgung Cheon gazed down at them in silence.

His own face reflected fully in their eyes — and, strangely, a glimmer of tears in those eyes.

An unfamiliar emotion he had never known, in either his past life or this one, stirred oddly at his chest.

Baek Heon added gently from beside him,

"When they heard you were leaving, my lord, they woke before dawn and waited."

Namgung Cheon was silent for a moment. Then, a little awkwardly, he raised a hand and ruffled Sobaek's hair once.

"……Work hard."

"Yes, my lord!"

It was the best encouragement he had to give.

Namgung Cheon nodded once to the children, then spoke quietly to Lee Ja-seong.

"I've been in your debt."

"It is I who should be saying that. The grace you have shown us, my lord—"

"No."

Namgung Cheon raised a hand and cut him off.

"Consider it the price of the cup we crossed at the River-Along Martial Assembly."

A simple, unadorned remark.

Understanding everything those words contained, Lee Ja-seong spoke of gratitude no further.

Instead—

"……Someday, I swear I will become a strength to you, my lord."

A faint smile crossed Namgung Cheon's lips.

"I will hold you to that. Then — may you be well."

With those parting words, Namgung Cheon turned away.

Mujin and Baek Heon followed.

As they rode off in the carriage, the disciples of the White Lotus Sword Sect and the children came out to the mountain gate to see them off.

Watching their figures recede into the distance, Namgung Cheon thought:

For now, their meeting ended here — but the thread of fate would one day tie itself again.

Then, suddenly—

……I've changed.

In his past life, he would never have spared a thought for something like bonds.

And yet now, his eyes followed their figures until they vanished from view entirely.

Namgung Cheon closed the carriage window and shut his eyes.

One corner of his chest ached dully — but it did not feel bad.

Strangely enough.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That unfamiliar warmth was what made him feel alive.

Then Mujin asked, casually,

"By the way, my lord — where are we headed now?"

Namgung Cheon slowly opened his eyes.

Quite some time had passed since he had left.

In that time, much had changed — and much had been gained.

And so.

"I'm going back."

To the place where bonds he had never known in his past life were waiting.

"Home."

The Namgung Clan — the Family Head Hall.

The grand council held on the first day of every month.

It was the gathering where the Patriarch and every senior elder of the clan assembled to review the past month's achievements and pressing matters.

As Grand Elder Namgung Gyeong delivered his report on the month's affairs, he raised an agenda item concerning Namgung Cheon.

"Lastly — a report on the Third Young Master's activities outside the clan."

At those words, every eye in the hall converged.

The Grand Elder concisely summarized the contents of the dispatches that had flown in from Anhui and Hunan over the past several weeks.

His exploits at the River-Along Martial Assembly and the eradication of the Ghost Mask Pact.

And even the epithet he had earned in the process — the Azure Sky Sword Hero.

As the report went on, pride and awe spread across the faces of the elders.

"Ohhh…!"

"What a magnificent feat!"

Until mere months ago, the youngest son had been called ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the clan's disgrace — and now he was elevating its name across the realm.

And so, while everyone sang the Third Young Master's praises with bright expressions—

There was one man whose face had hardened.

The Second Young Master, Namgung Jin.

The Azure Sky Sword Hero, is it…?

His mouth turned bitter.

While he tended the clan's finances day and night, shoring up its foundations, his younger brother had been dazzling the world outside.

And that, too, entirely on his own strength — without a shred of support from the clan.

I have no choice but to acknowledge it.

As a martial artist, his brother's achievements were astonishing.

He had no intention of denying or belittling them.

That is not the Namgung way.

But precisely because of it, his impatience grew sharper.

If this goes on, my place might cease to exist.

Then the Grand Elder shifted the topic.

"Next, we shall hear the Second Young Master's report on internal administration."

Namgung Jin rose from his seat and spread out the report he had prepared.

Steadying his heart by force of will, he began a fluent account of the clan's financial standing over the past month and his plan for distributing the returns gained through the Baekcheon Merchant Guild.

When the report ended, a silence of admiration settled over the hall.

His mastery of the intricate figures and vast content was so complete that even the elders clicked their tongues in respect.

It was Jegal Hwa who broke that silence.

"Well done, Jin."

She gazed at her son with a gentle smile.

"Returning the Baekcheon Merchant Guild's profits to the clan treasury this swiftly, while also devising so efficient a plan for their distribution."

At her words, the other elders nodded in agreement.

Only then did Namgung Jin's stiff expression begin to ease, bit by bit.

That's right.

A clan could not be led by the sword alone.

I have work that I myself do well.

Namgung Jin steadied his heart.

His brother's growth was undoubtedly a threat — but at the same time, it was a spur.

There was no reason to evade it, and no reason to fear it.

All I need do is prove my worth, without pause, in my own place.

That was what the Namgung Clan was.

A place cold yet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fair, where people were judged by ability and merit.

A place that never abandoned those who devoted themselves to it.

And so Namgung Jin was certain.

That the path he walked was no mistake either.

Just then—

"The Third Young Master has arrived!"

With the cry from outside the doors, the heavy gates of the Family Head Hall swung open.

A long creak of hinges—.

With the pouring sunlight at his back, Namgung Cheon stepped into the hall.

Black martial robes and two swords.

His attire was the same as when he had left, but the aura he radiated had changed beyond recognition.

A sharpness honed across countless life-and-death moments, and a heavy majesty that pressed upon all who beheld it.

The hall fell silent in an instant.

As everyone watched his every step with bated breath, Namgung Cheon came to a stop before the Patriarch.

He slowly lifted his head.

His gaze met that of Namgung Mugang, the Clan Lord, seated upon the grand dais.

"I have returned."

A single, short phrase.

No elaborate account of what he had done, or where he had been.

For none of that was what mattered to Namgung Mugang.

"……"

Namgung Mugang gazed down at his son in silence.

In the depths of that long silence, the eyes of father and son intertwined.

At last—

"You've been through much."

A smile, unmistakably clear, spread across Namgung Mugang's lips.