The Tang Clan (3)

"I leave myself in your care, Young Hero Sword Dragon."

The strength loaded into Namgung Cheon's grip was anything but ordinary.

Inner energy, too. A transparent little show-off.

Hyeong Jin smiled as he watched Namgung Cheon glance toward Dang Hwa, smug as a man already certain of his prize.

But life, as it happens, is not so easy.

He began to run inner energy through his own hand in earnest. The vigor swollen by spirit medicine moved as naturally as breath, and pain flickered across Namgung Cheon's face as his eyes dropped to their joined hands. The instant he started hauling his energy up in earnest—

"That's far enough."

Dang Hwa cut between them.

"Young Master Cheon, what do you think you're doing?"

A smile rested on her lips. It never reached her eyes.

"Young Hero Hyeong Jin used inner energy as well."

Her smile deepened.

"And why is it you neglect to mention that you used yours first?"

Namgung Cheon's face filled with wounded indignation.

"Lady Dang. Why does it seem you're taking that man's side?"

A vein stood out on Dang Hwa's brow.

"Young Master Cheon."

"Let's not make a scene on a fine day. We'll leave it here."

Hyeong Jin stepped in before the quarrel could sharpen. Unable to swallow her anger, Dang Hwa spun on her heel and stalked back to her seat. Namgung Cheon drifted closer and murmured.

"If you'd only stayed quiet, it would have ended neatly enough. You just had to make it larger."

The corner of Hyeong Jin's mouth twisted.

"I'll return those words exactly as they are, Young Hero Sword Dragon."

"You'll come to regret it."

Servants bustled through the hall, calling that the banquet was about to begin. Hyeong Jin turned and started toward his place, and at the heat of the stare burning into his back, he smiled.

This year's birthday feast for the Tang Clan Head was lavish beyond measure, from the dishes to the decorations.

A declaration to every sect in Sichuan. This is the weight of the Tang Clan. Could Jeomchang ever host a banquet like this? Three years of the sect's budget wouldn't be enough.

The thought of Jeomchang drew a dry little laugh from him.

The Clan Head moved toward the center of the hall.

"I am grateful that so many renowned figures of the murim have come to celebrate the birthday of this lacking man."

Vast inner energy rode the shout, and the clamor around him died.

Dang Mu-rin, the Poison King. The clan head who had taken the Tang Clan—once stranded in the gray between the unorthodox and the orthodox—and remade it, beyond all argument, into an orthodox house. A grandmaster of the Transformation Realm, standing at the same height as Hyeong Jin's own master.

"Qingcheng has come as well."

The disciples from Qingcheng rose and offered cupped-fist salutes. Emei, Mount Hua, Jeomchang, Namgung, the Peng Clan, and more—as the names of the great houses were called, those who had come in their stead stood and returned the greeting. Once the courtesies with martial clans, merchant companies, and officials were finished, the Clan Head went on.

"And so I grow another year older."

Easy laughter spread through the hall.

"As the later waves of the Great River drive the waves before them—so too will the murim become an age for its young heroes."

His gaze swept the promising youths gathered in the banquet hall. At the end of that sweep stood Dang Hwa, Namgung Cheon, and Hyeong Jin.

"This old man wishes only that fortune walk with you along that road."

The voice seated itself cleanly in the ear. He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was spreading it evenly across so many people at once.

The Transformation Realm, indeed.

The corner of Hyeong Jin's mouth lifted. Sensing that gaze, a faint smile touched the Clan Head's lips.

"What we have prepared is humble, but I hope you will enjoy yourselves before you go."

He offered a bow and withdrew, and applause filled the hall.

"Clan Head!"

One shout cut through the clapping and rang across the room.

"Young Hero Sword Dragon. Do you have something to say?"

Dang Mu-rin asked it with a smiling face.

"You said an age of young heroes was coming, did you not?"

As Namgung Cheon pressed on, his eyes turned toward Hyeong Jin. The Clan Head's gaze flicked quickly over the two of them.

"I did."

"If there were a place where the level of those young heroes could be confirmed, would that not make a fine gift for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Clan Head?"

Dang Mu-rin stroked his white beard. His eyes passed over Namgung Cheon and came to rest on Hyeong Jin, and after a brief stare, interest stirred in them. Around Hyeong Jin, his companions' expressions were rotting where they sat.

All but one.

"Now that is a fine idea, Gungcheon."

Paeng Mu-rin tossed his damp hair and chimed in. The Clan Head let out a short laugh and nodded.

"Taking the measure of our young heroes would make for good entertainment."

His voice hardened.

"But today is my birthday. I would rather no one suffer a grave injury. Dang Mu-baek."

"Yes, Clan Head."

"You will oversee the duel between these two."

Namgung Cheon flinched at the look on Dang Hwa's face. Even so, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠raised his voice and called out.

"Namgung Cheon, young master of the Namgung Clan, requests a duel with Young Hero Hyeong Jin, first-generation disciple of the Jeomchang Sect."

A chance to thrash him within the rules.

Hyeong Jin smiled. The crowd's eyes turned to him.

"I accept."

The center of the banquet hall began to clear.

"Killing techniques are forbidden. I will declare the victor."

At Dang Mu-baek's words, Hyeong Jin and Namgung Cheon—now on the dueling ground—nodded. Facing him, Namgung Cheon wore a similar smile.

"I told you. You'll regret it."

Hyeong Jin's expression was flat.

"Let's see which of us ends up regretting it."

"Arrogant to the last."

Namgung Cheon was confident.

Born to the Namgung Clan, he had been praised for genius from childhood, and when he received the title Sword Dragon he had taken it as his due. The vow he had made before his grandfather, the Sword Venerable—to become a swordsman who would not shame him—was the force that carried him through harsh training every day. Then Dang Hwa, met at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, had become another such force.

"What are you looking at."

Her answer had been indifferent, true enough.

She is not a woman the likes of you may address so lightly.

Emotion boiled in him, but the moment his hand closed on the sword, his mind sank cold. True to the master of the title Sword Dragon, Namgung Cheon unfolded the Boundless Firmament Sword.

Those in the crowd who recognized the art cried out.

"That is the sword of the Namgung."

"Didn't they say he reached great accomplishment at a young age?"

"The Sword Venerable's grandson, after all."

If I bring this ill-starred brat to his knees in front of her, she'll have no choice but to look at me anew.

The happy imagining did not last. Each time a variation of the Boundless Firmament Sword was about to bloom, Hyeong Jin's swift blade slipped in ahead of it. The sword that should have run wild with free changes and trampled its opponent was blocked again and again from the very first exchange. Namgung Cheon's breathing grew gradually rougher.

"The Jeomchang disciple is impressive too. Who is he?"

"Hyeong Jin, wasn't it?"

"Never heard the name, but his skill is something."

The muttering lodged in his ears. Namgung Cheon clenched his teeth before he knew it.

"So you were hiding a move after all."

"I never hid anything."

Ten more exchanges followed. Namgung Cheon changed sword-path and footwork without rest, and the result was the same: Hyeong Jin's sword moved as if it already knew the next stroke. Harder to endure was the fact that Hyeong Jin had yet to unfold a single proper form. At the sight of that relaxed face, Namgung Cheon flushed.

"Against me, you dare—"

Inner energy flooded his sword. The free paths of the Boundless Firmament Sword vanished, and a heavy, immense presence took their place. A single blade had only descended, and yet the whole sky seemed to press down upon the dueling ground. Fine cracks spidered across the floor.

"A junior, using the Sword Venerable's Sovereign Sword Form?"

"And that presence, when it isn't even complete."

"Still too young, though. Hardly something to bring out in a duel. Tsk."

The admiration around him no longer reached Namgung Cheon's ears.

The true terror of the Sovereign Sword Form was not only the power held in the blade. The moment it revealed itself, it forced everything standing beneath it into submission. The hem of Hyeong Jin's robes was crushed under that heavy presence, and the foot he had been stepping forward with slowed, as if the floor of the dueling ground had seized it.

His grandfather had maintained that oppression as easily as breathing, moving freely and unfolding his sword all the while. For Namgung Cheon as he was now, that was impossible. The instant he took a single step, the presence he had forced into being scattered.

Then he simply would not move.

He would stand where he was and crush his opponent, and finish the match in three forms before the slowed man could reach him. Namgung Cheon raised his sword. The Sovereign Sword Form was made of five forms, and of them, the strongest sword he could unfold was the third.

Hyeong Jin's footwork had already grown visibly dull. There was time enough to complete Sovereign Quells Heaven.

The moment he thought so, the floor shattered.

Hyeong Jin had forced a single step, and his figure vanished from Namgung Cheon's sight.

A sharp clang split the air, and the presence of the Sovereign Sword Form wavered. It was Hyeong Jin's sword. Before Sovereign Quells Heaven could be completed, that blade thrust straight in from the front.

Namgung Cheon did not change his sword-path. He could not. The power that had already begun to gather in one place could no longer be called back. Instead he bore down as he was. The force condensed in his sword was mighty enough to make any talk of incompleteness sound empty, and it drove Hyeong Jin's blade aside. Hyeong Jin's feet scraped the floor as he was pushed half a step, and red blood ran from both hands on the hilt.

He can't break Sovereign Quells Heaven.

Namgung Cheon was certain of his advantage.

But Hyeong Jin did not stop. He did not fight the force that had shoved him; he turned his body with it, and the power he had let flow gathered once more into his sword along his footwork. The presence of the Sovereign Sword Form still crushed him—and yet, before Namgung Cheon's eyes, a single streak of sword-light flashed.

In the instant before Sovereign Quells Heaven was completed, Hyeong Jin drove in. Falling Thunder struck upward from below against the spine of Namgung Cheon's sword. The blade in which true energy had been gathering shot high into the sky, and the tip of Hyeong Jin's sword stopped a breath short of Namgung Cheon's throat.

Dang Mu-baek's cry rang out, low and clear.

Namgung Cheon's gaze went from the fallen sword to Hyeong Jin's face and back again.

"I lost?"

Hyeong Jin withdrew his blade and offered a cupped-fist salute to Dang Mu-baek, then to Namgung Cheon. Hiding his bleeding hands in his sleeves, he left the dueling ground beneath a rain of stares.

"He beat the Sword Dragon?"

"Jeomchang was at that level?"

The hall grew loud with the upset Hyeong Jin had made. Watching the duel, Dang Hwa's eyes shone.

Hyeong Jin was trying to still his trembling hands. The two that had broken through Sovereign Quells Heaven were stripped of skin and running with blood. That was also why, throughout the duel, he had only jammed Namgung Cheon's sword-paths and never unfolded a proper form. His sinews, bones, and acupoints were not yet complete. Push himself only a few times more, and his own body would collapse before his opponent's.

So he had waited—for the moment Namgung Cheon gathered his energy into Sovereign Quells Heaven and could no longer reverse his sword-path.

The Sovereign Sword Form itself had no opening. The Sword Venerable maintained a sovereign's oppression as easily as breathing, moving freely and unfolding every art he pleased. His opponent could not bring out his true skill, while the Sword Venerable's sword suffered no constraint at all. Namgung Cheon, however, could not keep that oppression while he moved. So he had stood in place, slowed Hyeong Jin, and in that interval prepared the third form. A rational judgment, meant to cover his own limits.

Only the oppression had not weakened Hyeong Jin enough, and completing Sovereign Quells Heaven had taken far too long. He had driven through that span of time with a body already slowed.

"An unfinished Sovereign Sword Form, and still a nuisance."

It was not yet a technique Namgung Cheon could unfold intact in true combat. The speed at which he completed Sovereign Quells Heaven was slow, but the caliber carried in the sword art was worthy of the Sword Venerable's martial skill. A completed Sovereign Sword Form in the Sword Venerable's own hands would be beyond the present him entirely.

If it were me from my past life, perhaps.

Recalling Namgung Cheon's dumbfounded face, Hyeong Jin smiled.

"How gratifying."

"What's so gratifying?"

The voice from behind made him go still.

"......"

In Dang Hwa's hand was golden wound salve.

"If you're bleeding, the first thought should be treatment. What are you doing, grinning like a fool?"

"I'll be careful."

"Ha. We're barely apart in age, and you insist on that stiff formal speech. You're not some old man."

Stung, Hyeong Jin quietly turned his head aside.

"Hurry up and give me your hand."

"Men and women ought to keep their distance. How could I?"

"Listen, before I dissect you."

A chill ran down his spine, and Hyeong Jin held out his hand.

"I'm sorry."

At the sudden apology, his head turned toward her.

"Because of me."

"It isn't like that."

"Thank you."

Under his gaze, Dang Hwa's earlobes reddened.

"Young Hero Hyeong Jin."

At Seo Rin's sudden voice, Dang Hwa jumped.

"Oh—!"

Pain lanced from the wound, and Hyeong Jin bit down hard.

"The Clan Head summons you."

He looked at Dang Hwa with an expression full of betrayal.

"It wasn't me. I didn't say a word. I swear."

"Shall we go."

"May I ask what this is regarding?"

"You'll know when you arrive."

Seo Rin's face, as she answered, was cold. Hyeong Jin's smoldering glare turned on Dang Hwa.

"Young Hero Hyeong Jin. Kindly make haste."

Walking to meet the Clan Head, his thoughts tangled.

Has he realized I took the Azure Clarity Oil? Because of the look I sent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him earlier?

Soon his eyes grew resolute.

Even in a tiger's den, one lives if one keeps one's wits.

But the moment he stepped into the Clan Head's office, that resolve began to waver.

"You know why I called you."

The Clan Head was smiling. Through the office, however, his energy raged, violent and unchecked.