Each to Their Own Sky

The private chamber of the Self-Recommendation Pavilion.

The moment the three of them stepped into the room, a fragrant aroma of food greeted them first, tickling the tips of their noses.

Spread across the round table was a veritable feast of delicacies. Braised pork belly glistening with rich, succulent fat sat beside steamed fish dumplings, their wrappers still steaming hot. There were even delicately molded lotus pastries, each dish arranged with quiet elegance in white jade bowls — less like food and more like works of art.

“Sit.”

Namgung Hwi took the seat of honor and gestured for his two younger brothers to join him. Namgung Cheon hesitated for a moment before settling into the seat at Namgung Hwi's right hand. Across from him, Namgung Jin sat with a somewhat stiff posture.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

Namgung Hwi, seemingly unbothered, pulled out a bottle he had stowed beneath the table. It was a rough, unassuming thing, but the moment the stopper came free, the fragrance that wafted out was anything but ordinary.

“Here, take a cup.”

Namgung Hwi offered the first cup to Namgung Jin.

“I brought this specially for tonight. Aged Phoenix Soar wine, from Fengxiang.”

The liquor, clear and translucent as amber, filled the jade cup.

Namgung Jin received it with both hands. Then Namgung Hwi filled Namgung Cheon's cup as well.

“You've been through a lot.”

A brief remark. Namgung Cheon gave a silent nod and accepted the cup.

As he raised it, a heavy yet mellow aroma of aged grain wine brushed past his nose. In his previous life, he had tasted every famed vintage under heaven, and even so, the wines that could match this scent were few enough to count on one hand.

...An impressive brew, indeed.

A flicker of unusual interest crossed Namgung Cheon's eyes.

Namgung Hwi did not miss that fleeting change.

“Haha, I didn't know our youngest had an expert's palate for liquor.”

Smiling with satisfaction, Namgung Hwi filled his own cup.

“When I mentioned I'd be having a drink with my brothers, the Drunken Dragon insisted I take this along at all costs. So on my way back from Gansu, I made a point of passing through Shaanxi — just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to get my hands on this rarity, brewed only in Fengxiang County.”

At those words, Namgung Jin suddenly spoke up.

“Ah, how did things go in Gansu? It must have been no ordinary matter if you had to travel all the way to the Heavenly Will Squadron.”

Namgung Hwi shook his head with a light smile.

“No, let's save that talk for later. It'd be a shame to merely look at such a rare wine. Besides...”

His gaze shifted toward Namgung Cheon.

“Our youngest seems eager to drink it already.”

Namgung Cheon's brow furrowed slightly. Being handled like some young child rubbed him the wrong way—

...Though I suppose I am the young one, aren't I.

The age gap between Namgung Hwi and himself was five years. Practically a child.

Namgung Cheon's brow creased deeper. Seeing that expression, Namgung Hwi gave a sheepish cough and raised his cup.

“Ahem, let's have our first toast.”

Clink—

Three cups met at once.

And so, amid the awkward silence, only the sound of cups being filled and emptied echoed through the room.

After the wine had gone around two or three times—

Tap.

Namgung Jin quietly set his cup down with a deliberate clink, as though to break the silence at last. Then, staring into the emptied cup, he spoke softly.

“That day... it was remarkable.”

Who he meant, and what he was speaking of, was unmistakable. The sparring match between Namgung Cheon, the Jinshan Sword Squadron, and Namgung Dan. Namgung Hwi had long since heard of it as well, and so he simply watched Namgung Jin in silence.

“...Honestly, I could barely even follow it.”

At Namgung Jin's self-deprecating words, Namgung Hwi's expression turned bittersweet.

Namgung Jin's realm was the threshold of the Peak Realm. For his age, it was by no means a modest achievement. But this was the Namgung Clan, hailed as the World's Greatest Sword Family — a place where ordinary talent was, if anything, a poison.

Outside the clan, he was measured against the late-blooming prodigies of the other Great Clans. Within it, he was measured against the eldest young master — Namgung Hwi himself. And now even their youngest brother had reached the distant realm of Transcendence. How crushing that sense of loss must have been.

While Namgung Hwi turned the cup in his hands, wondering what he could possibly say—

“In a way, it was a relief.”

Namgung Jin lifted his head and spoke. His eyes no longer held that sunken look.

“I chased it my whole life.”

He refilled his empty cup as he murmured the words.

“The shadow you cast, Elder Brother — and the expectations of the clan. I believed that a son of Namgung must stand at the summit with the sword. I never doubted it, not for a single moment.”

He drained the cup in one swallow. Perhaps it was the heat of the liquor sliding down his throat, but his voice grew a little louder.

“But that day, I finally understood. That there is a sky I could struggle and thrash forever and never reach. And that this sky... is my own brother.”

Namgung Jin set down the emptied cup.

Tap.

The clear ring of it echoed through the chamber.

“So I've decided to let the sword go.”

“...Jin.”

Regret bled into Namgung Hwi's voice. But Namgung Jin waved it off with a laugh.

“Oh, I don't mean I'm abandoning it entirely. I'm just done clinging to it the way I used to.”

Pointing a finger at himself, he added,

“I ought to know how to look after myself too, shouldn't I?”

The little jest drew a helpless laugh from Namgung Hwi, and even Namgung Cheon felt the corner of his mouth lift slightly.

The mood lightened considerably. Namgung Jin pressed on.

“And it isn't surrender. It's a choice.”

He raised his emptied cup to show them. Where amber liquor had once swirled, only the moonlight from the window now pooled, swaying hollowly.

“A cup emptied like this. Could you fill it with a sword?”

Namgung Cheon and Namgung Hwi silently shook their heads. A sword could cut down anything — but it could not conjure something from nothing. Least of all wine made by a master brewer's hands.

“No, you couldn't.”

Strength gathered in Namgung Jin's voice.

“So I'm going to walk the path of filling this cup with my own hands — the things a sword can never fill. I will go to the Jaegyeong Hall. The Finance Pavilion.”

“...!”

Namgung Hwi's eyes went wide.

The Jaegyeong Hall — the place where every matter of wealth and commerce within the Namgung Clan was decided. Gold was a pillar no less essential than martial prowess in sustaining a great clan. But in the end, the Namgung were a martial house, and so a stubborn perception clung to the Finance Pavilion: it was where those who had failed to prove their worth with the sword ended up.

And here was his youngest brother — still so young, a son of the Sword Emperor, a direct descendant of Namgung — saying he would go there. Namgung Hwi understood all too well what that choice meant.

As though sensing his thoughts, Namgung Jin spoke flatly.

“...I'd be stepping away from the succession, of course.”

There was not a trace of lingering attachment or regret in his voice. He simply stated it as one might recite an obvious fact.

“...Jin.”

Namgung Hwi's voice sank low. He could manage no further words, and simply looked at his brother. The weight of willingly setting aside his claim as Young Clan Head struck him harder than even the news of abandoning the sword.

“...You won't regret it?”

Only after a long pause did Namgung Hwi manage the question.

“Regret...?”

Namgung Jin chuckled.

“How could I regret a road I've never walked? If anything, spending my whole life clinging to the sword, forever watching your backs and the youngest's — that is what I would regret until the day I die.”

His eyes did not waver.

“I've found something I'm good at. Reading the flow of money, and moving people. The things a sword could never win for me, I'll win for myself.”

Namgung Hwi regarded his brother for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh. Yes — what good would it do to heap heartache on a brother who had resolved to walk a new road?

He took the bottle himself and filled Namgung Jin's empty cup to the brim.

“Then you'll do splendidly. Good. The clan will be richer than it's ever been.”

Namgung Hwi ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smiled, and Namgung Jin smiled back, draining his cup in one clean go.

Namgung Cheon watched the exchange between his two older brothers in silence.

In his previous life, brothers in the Demonic Cult meant enemies who had to kill one another. No — even those who were not brothers had to kill each other. That was the only way to survive.

But the brothers here were different. They acknowledged one another's paths, filled in each other's gaps, and walked forward together.

This is...

Namgung Cheon found himself caught in an unfamiliar emotion.

“Come, let's drink once more.”

Namgung Hwi raised his cup high.

“To our brothers — each of us walking toward our own sky.”

Clink—

Three cups met again in the air. The sound was far clearer and brighter than before.

As the night deepened, the conversation dwindled, but the air between them grew easier with every passing hour. When at last the small hours of dawn arrived, Namgung Jin rose first, doing his best to hide his unsteady steps.

“I'll have to stop by the Finance Pavilion tomorrow, so I'll head ahead.”

Pride, determined to show no disheveled side of himself to the very end. Watching his brother's retreating back, Namgung Cheon thought:

Still the same as ever.

But he didn't dislike it. That unbending rectitude was the very strength that held Namgung Jin upright.

Once Namgung Jin had gone, only Namgung Hwi and Namgung Cheon remained in the chamber. A brief silence settled between them over the emptied table.

Namgung Hwi gathered the last of the wine and filled their cups.

“It puts my mind at ease, knowing Jin has found his own path at last.”

He gazed out the window, where the sky was faintly beginning to lighten, and spoke softly. He raised his cup and took a slow sip — then turned his head to look at Namgung Cheon.

Gentle eyes, yet unfathomably deep.

“I've heard everything about your exploits, Cheon.”

Namgung Hwi's voice grew low.

“From Anhui all the way to Hunan, there isn't a place your name hasn't reached. But...”

His gaze turned to the window — toward the vast world that lay beyond the clan's walls.

“Isn't it time you stepped out into a larger one?”

Namgung Cheon made no reply, only tilted his cup. He had a fair guess as to what Namgung Hwi meant to say.

“Come with me to the Murim Alliance.”

A blunt proposal. Namgung Cheon's brow narrowed ever so slightly.

Reading the shift in his brother's expression, Namgung Hwi laughed quietly.

“I know what you're thinking. You're picturing a stifling, dull place, aren't you? You wouldn't be wrong.”

He set down his cup.

“But that is where everything of the Jianghu gathers. The information, the people — and countless powerful figures you have yet to lay eyes on. There is no better ground to test your sword and climb higher.”

“...”

“And.”

A mischievous smile crept across Namgung Hwi's face.

“There's one more reason you ought to go.”

“And that would be?”

“You should meet Rin.”

Namgung Rin.

At that name, Namgung Cheon's eyes flickered. A face lingered faintly in his memory — but that was all. Nothing beyond it. All he truly knew was:

That she was forever running wild outside the clan, I suppose.

Namgung Rin had been so free-spirited that the clan's rules might as well not have existed. Worse, it had been years since she last returned home, and her face had grown blurry in his mind.

Not that my memories were ever whole to begin with...

And that was precisely why he was curious.

“Why is she at the Murim Alliance? And what is she doing there?”

Namgung Hwi set down his cup and shrugged.

“Strictly speaking, she's in Kaifeng — where the Alliance is based. But I don't know the details myself. If you're curious about the reason, you'll have to go and ask her yourself.”

A strange smile played at the corners of Namgung Hwi's mouth. Namgung Cheon let out a short laugh.

He knows the reason.

How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could he not? Stationed in Kaifeng, of all places, where the Alliance sat — and he claimed ignorance of his own sister's movements? Still, brushing it off like that was nothing more than a clumsy attempt at persuasion, born of his wish that they travel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the Murim Alliance together.

“So — see the world, and lay eyes on your sister after all these years. What do you say?”

Namgung Cheon fell silent for a moment. The Murim Alliance. Kaifeng. And a sister. None of it had been in his plans.

But there was no particular reason to refuse. If anything—

I suppose I'll go and see.

A new world, and new connections. He knew that this was the road the man he was now needed to walk.

“Very well.”

At Namgung Cheon's succinct answer, a bright smile spread across Namgung Hwi's face. And like that smile, the light of dawn slowly began to wash over the room.

And then—

So this is the beginning of a new journey.

A faint smile had, at some point, settled on Namgung Cheon's lips as well.