The Gal Clan
Namgung Gyeom was not one for many words, just as Baek Mudan had assessed with his remark about the youth’s lack of social graces.
Thus his tour of Cheonmu Academy consisted of only the briefest explanations of whatever he deemed truly important.
“This is the First Dining Hall. If you prefer cooked meals, come here; for raw fare, head to the Second. Should you wish to pay for your food, the Outer Academy has plenty of restaurants.”
“This is the Alchemy Chamber. Should you ever require a special spiritual medicine, you may refine it yourself here or place a commission. Naturally, it costs money.”
“First-year cadets take most of their classes in this lecture hall. Even if you skip every other lesson, so long as you attend the ones here you will not be expelled.”
Listening to such terse explanations while following Namgung Gyeom’s lead, they eventually arrived at a place whose scenery at least felt familiar.
“This is the Training Ground. You saw it yesterday, so you already know.”
“There are a lot of them. And they’re huge.”
“There are many sparring matches, so it cannot be helped. Most bouts follow the same rules as yesterday’s entrance exam: best of three, and the first to hit the ground loses.”
At that moment someone emerged from one of the buildings lined up nearby, spotted Namgung Gyeom, and jabbed a finger at him while shouting.
“Namgung Gyeom!!”
Namgung Gyeom turned toward the voice, confirmed who it was, and immediately scowled as he called to Ye Hajun.
“Let’s go.”
“Someone’s calling you.”
“Someone I have no interest in. No curiosity either.”
Namgung Gyeom turned his back to leave, but the one who had called him quickly blocked the path.
Standing in their way was a youth of similar age, a faint reddish glow lingering in his hair.
“Hey, you. When someone calls you, stop.”
“I have no business with you. As you can see, I am busy.”
When Namgung Gyeom pointed his chin toward Ye Hajun, the other youth’s gaze shifted to him.
“Unfamiliar face.”
“I’m a new cadet.”
“And you drop the honorifics.”
“You dropped them first. Since I’m already speaking casually with Namgung Gyeom, might as well get it over with early.”
A smile rose on the youth’s lips at Ye Hajun’s reply.
“I like that. Yeah, better to drop the formalities early. Gal Hyeonsang.”
“Ye Hajun.”
“So…”
Gal Hyeonsang pointed at Namgung Gyeom and asked,
“How’d you end up knowing this guy? Acquaintance?”
Before Ye Hajun could even begin the brief calculation of how to cover for Namgung Gyeom’s pride,
“I lost to him in a spar.”
“What?!”
Namgung Gyeom stated the fact with complete calm.
“That is how it is. May we leave now?”
“Wait wait wait.”
Gal Hyeonsang stopped Namgung Gyeom’s steps once more and asked as if he could not believe it.
“Lost? Who? You?”
“I have no desire to put the same words in my mouth twice. Speaking of defeat is even less appealing.”
“You really lost?”
Gal Hyeonsang’s eyes went wide, then fixed on Ye Hajun.
“Is that… true?”
In that instant Ye Hajun felt a prickling sense of wrongness, and at the same time thought,
I knew it would be like this.
Gal Hyeonsang’s hand shot toward Ye Hajun’s eyes.
Yet those fingertips never reached them.
Before they could, Ye Hajun had already seized the wrist, and Namgung Gyeom’s blade was pressed to Gal Hyeonsang’s throat—the three of them locked in a sudden standoff.
Seeing his own hand caught, Gal Hyeonsang muttered as if his soul had left his body.
“…Guess it really is true.”
“What the hell is this?”
“Remove your hand, Gal Hyeonsang. Or else again—”
Namgung Gyeom’s words had not finished when a woman’s voice rang out from afar at the sight of the scene.
“Gal Hyeonsang, you crazy bastard!”
Before anyone could even turn toward the voice, something came flying; Gal Hyeonsang was kicked and let out a short scream as he was launched through the air.
Crash!
The tremendous sound of Gal Hyeonsang slamming into a wall set the entire training ground buzzing.
“What was that?”
“What’s going on?”
“Gal Hyeonsang got slammed!”
“Ugh, it’s Gal Hyeonsang again?”
“Just go in, nothing special.”
The crowd vanished in an instant as if nothing of note had happened.
To make sense of the chaos, Ye Hajun turned to look at the spot where Gal Hyeonsang had stood a moment earlier; in his place now stood a woman whose red hair seemed to flicker like living flame.
The woman who had flown in and kicked Gal Hyeonsang looked at Ye Hajun, smoothed her angry brows, and spoke calmly.
“Sorry. Our Shin-gyo kids are just overflowing with blood. Unarranged spars are forbidden, by the way. Keep that in mind, Cadet Ye Hajun.”
“Uh… ah, yes. But you know my name?”
“You’re rather famous among the instructors—word has spread. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Gal Soha, the instructor in charge of Shin-gyo matters.”
Hearing the same Gal surname, Ye Hajun’s expression betrayed a dawning suspicion; Gal Soha let out a sigh.
“That’s right. That idiot is my little brother. If he ever tries to force a spar on you out of nowhere, just tell me. I’ll thrash him for you anytime.”
“Ah, yes.”
“And.”
Gal Soha spoke to Ye Hajun through telepathy.
If you ever need the help of Shin-gyo, come to the Sangwol Teahouse in the southwest of the Outer Academy and order two cups of tea brewed with wolryeongcho.
Startled by his first experience of telepathy, Ye Hajun frowned; Gal Soha patted his shoulder as if to brush the moment aside.
“I’ll clean this up, so continue your tour. Namgung Gyeom, you were introducing him to the academy, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll leave him in your care. That lazy Doksu fellow must have dumped the job on you, but with you I can trust it will be done properly.”
Watching Gal Soha head off to extract the wall-embedded Gal Hyeonsang, Ye Hajun asked Namgung Gyeom,
“What’s your relationship with Gal Hyeonsang?”
“I kept beating him in spars, so he has unilaterally decided to treat me as his rival.”
“Ahh. That kind of thing.”
As Namgung Gyeom’s tour resumed, a notification appeared inside the gallery.
Juddak, those Gal kids
Seem like descendants of people I know.
If they don’t listen, just thrash ’em. It’s fine.
What? Some kind of blood feud?
It was rare enough for Cheonma to single someone out and make anything resembling a request that Ye Hajun asked.
So that was his way of saying “get along with them.”
Ye Hajun understood Cheonma’s garbage-tier phrasing perfectly and snickered inwardly.
He didn’t seem like a bad kid, so… I’ll play it by ear.
They continued wandering for a long while after that, touring one place after another until the sun went down.
Along the way Ye Hajun realized one thing: Namgung Gyeom was far more of a celebrity than expected.
Every stretch of road brought another greeting in the same vein as Gal Hyeonsang’s—“Namgung Gyeom walking around with someone he doesn’t know? Who’s that? Ahh, let’s get along from now on”—dozens of them in a row.
The problem was that none of them left an impression as strong as Gal Hyeonsang’s, so in the end only Gal Hyeonsang remained in memory.
I’ll remember the faces if I see them again later, I guess.
With that thought Ye Hajun arrived at the final stop of the day.
“This is the lodging.”
“Oh, nicer than I expected.”
Ye Hajun had imagined something like a dormitory, yet what awaited them was essentially a private estate almost identical to the one he had stayed in the night before.
“My family used its influence to have it built as a manor.”
“So the power of money, huh.”
“A little different. When Cheonmu Academy was first established, our ancestor provided support and this privilege was granted in return. However, the place you will stay is not here.”
“Huh?”
Namgung Gyeom raised a hand and pointed to a corner.
“That veranda.”
“What? Are you joking?”
“A petty trick.”
Namgung Gyeom said so and looked at Ye Hajun.
“This manor is originally a space permitted only to the Namgung Clan. The reason is that it is a converted private training ground rented for money. In principle, therefore, it is a training ground.”
“So?”
“Naturally I also live here while training. To observe another’s training is no different from spying on another sect’s secret manuals—something taboo.”
Is that how it is?
Ye Hajun tilted his head; Namgung Gyeom sighed.
“That is why I called it a petty trick. There is a way for you to have a room.”
“What is it?”
“Spar with me on a regular basis.”
“That much is fine.”
Ye Hajun nodded as if it were nothing special.
Living rent-free off someone else’s house feels wrong anyway.
It was the perfectly natural thought born from the mind of a modern Korean raised on capitalism combined with the money-conscious mindset of the unorthodox path—yet Namgung Gyeom’s reaction was different.
Guilt had already crept into the voice of the one who had made the proposal.
“…You are far more magnanimous than I thought. Not only did I lose the spar, I now feel as if I have lost in spirit as well. Forgive me for being so petty.”
“You talk way too heavily. Just speak plainly the way you explained the places earlier.”
Saying so, Ye Hajun lightly tapped Namgung Gyeom’s chest and grinned.
“Looks like we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on. Who talks like that between friends?”
At those words Namgung Gyeom’s expression went blank for a moment, then he let out a short laugh.
“Indeed. While we are on the subject—if you are not too tired, how about a spar right now?”
“If it’s the same rules as before, sure.”
“I will prepare at once.”
And so the night of Ye Hajun’s first day at Cheonmu Academy grew steadily deeper.
A day later, the true first day of Cheonmu Academy.
It was finally the day of the first class, so Ye Hajun rose with equal parts anticipation and unease—only to be met with unexpected news.
“Today’s classes have been cancelled.”
“Huh?”
“A Jeonggoe has appeared.”