Why Are There More Sanzang Candidates?

That was precisely the situation Hwangbo Yong, successor of the Hwangbo Clan, found himself in.

A sword came flying out of nowhere while he was watching a fight. Hwangbo Yong drew his blade from where he sat and struck it aside in a single motion. It was the kind of movement one would expect from an heir of the Five Great Clans.

"Are you all right, Young Hero Hwangbo?"

Jegal Seoseo asked with genuine concern. Hwangbo Yong deliberately hardened his expression and dropped his voice low.

"Ah, I'm fine, young lady."

He turned a cold gaze on the underworld men who had flung the sword his way. Of course he knew it hadn't been intentional — they had been in the middle of a brawl. But a blind sword was still a sword.

Ah, so you threw a sword by accident. These things happen. Haha. That's just how the martial world works, isn't it?

He could not laugh it off and let it go.

And the problem was, Hoga Jangju was caught in the exact same bind.

This goddamn...

Hoga Jangju bit down hard on his lip.

Why the hell did the Five Great Clans have to show up now of all times...

On any ordinary day, Hoga Jangju would have bent at the waist right here. In the underworld, guts mattered — but so did a spine flexible enough to bow when the other party demanded it. The timing, however, was spectacularly wrong. He could feel the eyes of every Hoga Manor martial artist on him.

Ah, this situation is complete shit!

He had only just clawed his authority back. The real problem was that the Namgung Clan happened to be mixed in with that group. Rumors were already circulating that he had begged the Namgung Clan for his life just to survive. If he bowed his head here — if he submitted in front of those Namgung brats — what would become of him if he dropped to the ground without even showing the underworld's spirit, the kind that sinks its teeth in even as it dies?

"You lot think you can brawl in front of guests?"

Hwangbo Yong said, his face ice-cold.

"They say chivalry vanished from the martial world a long time ago, but swinging blades around among ordinary civilians? As a martial artist who follows the path of chivalry, I find this difficult to tolerate any longer."

"......"

Hoga Jangju could not find his bearings. He said nothing.

Hwangbo Yong's eyelid twitched. He had originally planned to accept a modest apology and display his magnanimity. His mood was souring by the second.

Have these people lost their minds?

Hoga Jangju's silent response was unexpected. If they were going to play it this way, Hwangbo Yong could not simply back down either.

Without hesitation he took a step, then burst forward in a single bound and swung his sword. A brilliant white flash of lightning forked into three paths.

In the instant that lightning-fast radiance was about to split Hoga Jangju in two, something came rushing in.

"Hey now, you can't just go swinging a sword at people."

So this was what it meant for a person to erupt into existence right in front of your eyes. A man quite literally popped up out of nowhere.

"......!"

Startled, Hwangbo Yong tried to stop — but it was already too late. Withdrawal was impossible. There was only one option: forcibly twist the path of the sword. He could keep the person who had appeared in front of him safe. In exchange, Hwangbo Yong himself would be injured. The muscles in his arm would tear badly, and the backlash of his inner energy would be severe. Even at a conservative estimate, internal injuries were certain.

"Ngh!"

Hwangbo Yong's choice was obvious. The sword's path did not change. The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering was right around the corner. He could not afford to get hurt here. As a bare minimum of conscience, he twisted the blade as far as he could, hoping only to miss the vital points. The possibility that his opponent might dodge or block never entered his mind. He believed in his own martial arts. He never even dreamed—

A ringing clang. Hwangbo Yong's body lurched hard. His eyes flew open so wide they threatened to split.

The Thunder Shock Sword Art was an excellent clan technique — fast as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a thunderbolt, powerful as a war hammer. Which was why Hwangbo Yong was stunned. His sword had stopped in midair.

He caught it with his fingers?

Index and thumb. Just two fingers, pinching the blade. A crushing weight traveled up through his wrist. A chill slid down his spine. Beyond the face of the sword, Sun Wukong's lazy smile overlapped into view.

"You..."

Hwangbo Yong's eyelid trembled slightly. The Golden Young Master who had gone into the annex. The man who had been the talk of Anhui Province from the moment he arrived. In truth, none of that background even registered. The only thing filling his head was the fact that his martial arts had been stopped by a single pair of fingers — that his sword had been caught, period.

Hwangbo Yong bit down on his lip without realizing it. Sun Wukong spoke slowly.

"I'm a guest retainer of the Namgung Clan, handling a job at their request. That fellow over there is connected to it, so how about I apologize on his behalf?"

Those words snapped Hwangbo Yong back to his senses. He tried to tug his sword free. It would not budge, as if it had been driven into stone. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

He's a master. Someone I can't do a thing about here.

His mind was in chaos, but one thing was certain. He could not fight this. And besides — wasn't this a perfectly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good justification?

I can hardly interfere with Namgung Clan business in Anhui Province.

Recognizing that your skill falls short of a stronger opponent and stepping back is not humiliation. In the martial world, it is the natural and wise decision. Fortunately, Hwangbo Yong did not indulge in the reckless bravado of a peer overflowing with nothing but hot blood.

"As a guest of the Namgung Clan, I can hardly interfere with Namgung Clan affairs. There was a brief disturbance, but I understand completely."

Only then did Hwangbo Yong's sword move. Sun Wukong had let go. Hwangbo Yong looked down at his blade with a complicated expression.

They say every guest retainer of the Namgung Clan is some kind of eccentric genius. Looks like an extraordinary one found his way in.

A bitter smile touched Hwangbo Yong's lips.

Once the atmosphere had settled, Namgung Muyoung cautiously cupped his fist in greeting.

"I am Namgung Muyoung, eldest young master of the Namgung Clan."

Starting with Namgung Muyoung, the successors of the Five Great Clans offered brief introductions. Sun Wukong glanced over them. Or rather — more precisely, over Namgung Muyoung and Namgung Seowol.

The other rising stars carried a fairly impressive presence, but they were not even worth considering as far as Sun Wukong was concerned.

Namgung Muyoung, upright and courteous, yet unable to erase the wariness from his eyes. Namgung Seowol, by contrast, staring at Sun Wukong with undisguised, curiosity-filled eyes, looking him over as if inspecting him.

Sun Wukong let out a sigh without even trying to hide it.

That they were children of the Namgung Clan, that they were successors of the Five Great Clans — none of it stirred anything in Sun Wukong. Right now, neither their appearances nor their backgrounds nor anything else registered in his eyes.

Only one thing.

And what's more...

There were two. Two of the most brilliantly shining threads of fate.

Namgung Muyoung. Namgung Seowol. Sun Wukong was bound to both of them, fiercely, by the name of fate.

The drinking party fizzled out in an awkward haze. They had come close enough to drawing blades, however briefly, and the atmosphere was never going to recover. A large part of that was Hwangbo Yong, who had been driving the gathering, sinking into a thoroughly foul mood.

The Namgung Clan estate was close, but they did not return at once. A messenger was sent ahead to say they would arrive the following morning, and they decided to spend the night at the wine house.

"Seowol! You have to get the water out of your hair before you lie down!"

Jegal Seoseo nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Namgung Seowol, who had just finished washing and already flopped onto the bedding. Water dripped steadily from her roughly towel-dried hair. Jegal Seoseo hurriedly snatched up a cloth and started rubbing it dry.

"Uweh..."

Namgung Seowol made a peculiar noise as her head was wrapped in the cloth and shaken this way and that. Jegal Seoseo laughed under her breath. After a few more passes to soak up the damp, Namgung Seowol gave her head a great shake. It was, in fact, an advanced application of inner energy, flinging the moisture away — but from the outside it looked exactly like a big dog shaking water out of its fur, and Jegal Seoseo had to bite back a laugh.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

"Earlier."

"Ah. That guest retainer?"

"He's strange."

"...He was a strange one, I'll give you that."

Jegal Seoseo agreed carefully.

"Suddenly appearing out of nowhere and stopping Young Hero Hwangbo's sword, for one thing..."

And the skill itself had been monstrous. That burst of speed — Jegal Seoseo had not even seen it. He had quite literally erupted up from the ground.

And he caught Hwangbo Yong's sword the way a child picks up a wooden practice blade.

Even now, turning it over in her mind, it was a level of martial prowess she could barely comprehend. She thought of the masters of her own clan. The Jegal Clan had no shortage of experts, but could any of them have displayed that kind of divine might? It was a difficult thing to imagine.

"Not that."

"Hm?"

"His eyes were strange."

"His eyes?"

Jegal Seoseo tilted her head. She could not quite grasp what Namgung Seowol meant. His features were foreign, and even his smallest gestures and movements had been unlike those of a man from the Central Plains. But his eyes...

"Strange."

Namgung Seowol frowned, as if she could not pin the feeling down to a single word. Jegal Seoseo gave a wry smile.

"Why, does he seem like someone you shouldn't get close to?"

That unshakable ease clinging to every inch of him. Those foreign looks. Martial skill startling enough to steal your breath. Unfortunately, for all her interest, Jegal Seoseo had barely managed to exchange a word with him. Neither had anyone else at the table, for that matter.

He just stared at Young Hero Namgung and Seowol, heaved one sigh after another, and left.

Well. Put that way, it was a little odd. Sighing right in someone's face at a first meeting, for one thing...

Namgung Seowol tilted her head, then shook it.

"It's not like that."

"Is that so~?"

Jegal Seoseo thought for a moment, then let out a sigh of her own.

It was not that she had no interest in the Namgung Clan's guest retainers. Jegal Seoseo herself had been hoping to meet the great scholar Chae Gong, who was said to be staying with the Namgung Clan, and ask for his teachings. But this Dragon-Phoenix Gathering was not a tournament one could afford to take lightly.

The Namgung Clan means to use this Dragon-Phoenix Gathering to pull the Five Great Clans together and have its place at their head firmly recognized once again.

Jegal Seoseo combed through Namgung Seowol's hair and quietly studied her face.

That's why Namgung Muyoung and Namgung Seowol set out into the martial world ahead of the Gathering.

The two of them had played their parts beautifully. They had cut down remnants of the Sama Order and any number of villains, and despite their youth they had displayed martial skill worthy of Namgung Clan successors. It had been a preemptive advertisement, before the Gathering even began, that the Namgung Clan's future was bright.

People say the Namgung Clan is nothing but a pack of sword-swinging thugs, but seeing things like this, they are hardly to be taken lightly. I heard the brains of the Namgung Clan is the Disciplinary Hall Master. I'll need to watch that one.

Unlike the Nine Sects and One Gang, which could not easily approach the Namgung Clan, the other families among the Five Great Clans could at least pick up information on one another indirectly.

The real problem is the Hwangbo Clan, isn't it.

She quietly called to mind everything she had observed of Hwangbo Yong. A man who, in ways both obvious and not, had been trying to take the lead of this gathering.

Namgung Muyoung's temperament is relatively quiet and unassertive, so it stands out all the more — but that is clearly Hwangbo Yong's own intent.

The Hwangbo Clan. Originally the lowest seat among the Five Great Clans, it had risen after the Great War into a power capable of contesting the head position. She did not know the full picture, but in sheer scale, at least, it already far surpassed the Namgung Clan.

What a headache.

Jegal Seoseo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠furrowed her brow. A Namgung Clan determined to lock down the head seat of the Five Great Clans, and a Hwangbo Clan with its eyes on the throne. The Jegal Clan's role here was simple.

I need to know which side to stand with.

The Jegal Clan had never been one to chase the throne. Being second had always been more than enough. As the successor who would one day lead the next generation of the Jegal Clan, Jegal Seoseo had to keep a close watch on the power struggle between Namgung and Hwangbo.

...They called it a friendly gathering. Ugh. What a mess.

As her thoughts tangled, Jegal Seoseo squeezed the comb a little too hard without realizing it.

"Ack!"

"Ah — sorry, Seowol."

She let out a small laugh a moment later. The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, dressed up as a social mixer, was plainly going to become a nest of ugly political fighting. Still, she had made a charming friend in Namgung Seowol here, and that at least put her heart at ease.

In more ways than one, Namgung Muyoung and Namgung Seowol were interesting people.