The Wang Clan of Goryeo
When I came to, I was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. I'd meant to let loose a full bowl of curses the moment I woke up, but all that came out was baby babbling — which made that my very first utterance in this life.
Call it coincidence or call it fate, my name was exactly the same as in my past life. The only real difference was that I'd gained a family name: Wang.
Not long after I was reborn, when I figured out that I was of royal blood, my chest had swelled with pride. The maids fussed over my every move, and a physician came by three times a day.
At first I enjoyed being waited on like that, but now that I'm eight, it's starting to wear thin.
"Ahh~ I want to swing a sword."
Eight years. Eight whole years without once properly using martial arts. For Mujin, a man who loved the blade, it was a living hell.
Recently, the boredom had driven me to sneak a sword out of the armory behind the maids' backs. My hands were too small, though, and I dropped it...
After I cut my hand straining to grip that sword, the guards doubled, the maids multiplied, and these days I've been keeping a low profile.
"But isn't that strange? I mean, I was swinging a sword with an eight-year-old body in the first place. That shouldn't be possible."
Apparently, this new body was far stronger than others my age.
Such innate strong bones are one of the prerequisites for becoming a great martial artist.
No matter how much you reinforce your body with internal energy, it's useless if your body can't withstand that energy in the first place.
Granted, being born weak doesn't make greatness impossible — but with a body like this, I'd have no reason to start several steps behind every other warrior.
"Compared to my past life, the conditions are almost too good. Strong bones are a talent in their own right."
Just as I was muttering to myself like that, I sensed movement behind the door.
I confirmed the owner of those footsteps was someone very familiar, and spoke.
"Come in."
Creeeeak.
A young woman carefully opened the door.
She was a girl whose black eyes carried a faint blue tint, lending her an air of mystery.
She dipped her head once at the doorway, then entered the room with footsteps so quiet they would have drawn gasps from the nobility.
Even Mujin, who had never cared much for women, felt his heart stir at her graceful poise.
"Your senses are sharp today as well, Sogaju-nim."
"Ahem... I just keep them open at all times, that's all. So, what is it? If it's about my history lesson, I finished that a while ago."
"The Gaju summons you. It seems he intends to give you a warning about the incident when you cut your hand."
"Royal blood or not, if I was born into a martial family, shouldn't I be allowed to nick myself practicing with a sword now and then?"
"You were born into a martial family, yes — but you are royalty besides, and so no."
"Same Goryeo, but different in every way that matters."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing. Father must be waiting. Let's go."
The Goryeo I'd lived in and this Goryeo shared nothing but a name. Part of it was that the country had been founded in a different place, but really, it felt somehow like those Silla bastards had gotten their hands on it.
In my past life's Goryeo, even royal children rode horses from the time they could walk. This Goryeo makes a ridiculous fuss over everything.
Then again, the dynasty itself wasn't a House of Go but a House of Wang, so it was never going to have much in common with the old one anyway.
I was walking along lost in those thoughts when Nari, trailing half a step behind me, suddenly spoke up.
"Forgive me for asking, but you're not planning to throw another tantrum begging the Gaju-nim for a sword today... are you?"
I froze.
Honestly? It startled me. How in the hell did she know?
Mujin stopped in his tracks for a moment, then said,
"Nari. How old are you turning this year?"
"Seventeen, Sogaju-nim."
"Right. Seventeen means you're an adult. And how old am I?"
"...Eight."
"Exactly. I'm eight, so right now is the only time anyone will even pretend to indulge my tantrums. If I whine like this later, do you think it'll work on anyone?"
"I imagine the lord's wrath would come down upon you. A grown man — and royalty besides — behaving that way? You might be cast out on the spot."
"Which is exactly why now is the only chance I'll ever get."
"Th-that's true, technically, but I'm not sure it's really right..."
"Oh, it's right. Everything I say is ri—"
Thunk.
Mujin, busy spouting his bizarre logic at Nari, failed to watch where he was going and caught his foot on the threshold.
Time slowed to a crawl as his face and the floor drew steadily closer together.
"Aw, sh—!"
CRASH!
"Owww~ I'm dying, I'm actually dying~"
......
Nari couldn't even bring herself to help him up. She simply stood there worrying about the future of the Wang Clan, wondering what on earth this young lord would grow up to become.
Daehyeongung — the Gaju's Hall of the Wang Clan Estate
Creeeeak.
"You summoned me, Father."
Wang Inho was seated at his desk, taking a moment of rest. Even sitting still, he radiated a heavy, dignified presence — the kind that made anyone who looked at him think, Ah yes, there stands a man of royal blood.
"Mm. You're here. Sit. There is something we must discuss."
"Yes, Father."
Mujin carefully pulled out a chair and sat, while Nari pressed herself against the wall beside the door, ready to attend. For a moment, a subtle tension filled the room.
"And your forehead — why is it swollen?"
"I took a rather spectacular fall."
"I distinctly remember instructing you, as your father, to carry yourself with the dignity befitting royalty. Have you forgotten already?"
"I'm still young, Father, and my memory is not what it ought to be."
"That is not untrue — though I find myself wondering whether you should be the one saying it about yourself."
Glug, glug.
Wang Inho poured tea into a cup that was nowhere near empty. Mujin recognized the gesture at once: a signal that his father had no intention of wasting time on idle matters.
"I heard from Nari that you called me here to scold me."
"That was the original intention. But having just watched that little display, I doubt a scolding would change anything."
"Ahaha..."
"Never mind. It was merely a point I wished to touch on lightly before the main matter."
Fwoooosh.
In that instant, Mujin felt internal energy ripple outward from Wang Inho's body in a perfect circle. He couldn't help but be stunned.
Impossible...! The sheer volume of that qi is one thing — but it's astonishingly refined!
Wang Inho, likewise noticing Mujin's face going pale, widened his eyes.
Don't tell me he sensed that qi just now?
Wang Inho considered asking about Mujin's ki-sense, but thought better of it.
Martial arts belong on the training ground. That was one of his iron rules. Besides, he had already suspected to some degree that Mujin possessed talent.
"What I am about to say, you may hear, Nari, as you are his personal maid — but no other idle ears must. I have raised a barrier of internal energy to keep the room silent."
At those words, Nari shrank back. One look was enough to tell how important this was — and if this conversation leaked to anyone, she would be the first suspect.
"Does this have something to do with why we are royalty, yet live as a separate house rather than in the royal palace?"
"It does. To give you the conclusion first: our Wang Clan was formed by the gathering of Goryeo's royal bloodline — but we are not the Goryeo royal house."
I'm sorry — what?
"You know that Taejo granted the surname Wang to the powerful clans who followed him, yes?"
"As it happens, I learned that in class today."
"Hm. So you do attend your lessons after all. Then let me continue. The clans who received the Wang surname intermarried with the House of Wang several times. Not all of them, mind you, but some did."
Slurp.
Wang Inho paused and savored his tea.
"...But as the years passed, the number of royals grew far, far too great."
Something in that regretful sigh struck me, and I couldn't help asking at once.
"Don't tell me that's what split the royal bloodline in two — the royal house, and our Wang Clan?"
"It wasn't the deciding factor, but it played its part. The Goryeo royal house of the past practiced incest freely, and from it came royals of pure blood. Those pure-blooded royals despised those whose royal blood ran thin — and despised even more those who bore only the Wang surname without a single drop of royal blood. They despise them still."
"Why? They're all royals, aren't they? Couldn't they just get along and fleece the common people together?"
Wasn't that the whole job of royalty?
Hearing me say it with such sincerity, Wang Inho burst into a hearty laugh.
"Do not mock royalty so lightly. Royalty carries its own duties. That said, the Goryeo royal house of today is, without question, every bit the villains you make them out to be."
Clack.
He moved to pour more tea, but the celadon pot was empty. As Nari hurried to prepare a fresh brew, Wang Inho raised a hand to stop her and continued.
"The pure-blooded royals began to cast out those whose blood was thin or absent entirely. Why do you suppose they did that?"
"You said they despise them — so I'd guess it wounded their pride to be classed as the same royalty as us?"
"The foolish pure-bloods thought exactly that. But the ones with even a lick of sense thought differently. They felt threatened by the impure royals."
Crack.
The moment the word left his mouth, a hairline fracture spidered across the teacup in Wang Inho's grip.
Qi he was emitting without even thinking had affected the objects around him — from nothing more than a sour mood.
Just how far into the realms does a master have to be for that to be possible?
Among all the stages Mujin knew of, it was impossible.
Wang Inho stroked the cracked cup for a moment, then resumed.
"Impure royals nearly equal in number to the pure-bloods. Their potential to enter politics. The peculiar founding of Goryeo itself, resting on the support of the great clans. And more besides. The pure-blooded royals had every reason under heaven to check and cast out the impure ones."
"So with the great clans already breathing down their necks, if the impure royals got restless too, they'd have felt genuinely endangered."
"Precisely. In the end, the impure royals could not withstand the pure-bloods' pressure and were driven out of the royal house as if into exile. But even once they left, the threat of assassination never left them. It was from that moment that the Wang Clan began to take shape."
"Considering they didn't band together and resist sooner, I'd say that's when they finally found a banner to gather under."
"That banner you speak of was the first Gaju of our Wang Clan. The trouble was, being a house formed of fellow royals, the Gaju's authority was weak at first... but to give you the conclusion: since that first generation, in the Wang Clan, the Gaju's will has been the will of the entire family."
With those words, Wang Inho lifted the pot and rose from his seat to brew fresh tea.
"Today, I simply wished to teach you — my Sogaju — the roots of our family. History lessons will never take you this deep. I will tell you the rest when the time comes."
"That's it? You call me all the way here and then stop halfway through?"
When I grumbled that I didn't want to be summoned all over again, the corner of Wang Inho's mouth curled upward.
"Do you have time for that right now? Your martial arts lesson begins shortly."
"...Martial arts? Did you just say martial arts? Hell yes — sword! Nari! Give me my sword, give it!"
Apart from the swearing, he's every inch a child.
Only moments ago the boy had spoken like a grown man, but the instant the words "martial arts" were uttered, eight-year-old Mujin came roaring back. Wang Inho thought so to himself.
"Martial arts! Martial arts~! Kuahahaha!"
Mujin let out a shriek of joy and bolted for the training ground. He would have made it, too — if not for Wang Inho's final words.
Wang Inho quietly began brewing the tea, and tossed out a single remark.
"You will become king."
"...?"
Wait. What in the hell is that supposed to mean?