Am I Fit to Be King?
Me, a king? What on earth was that supposed to mean? Did he actually take me for someone capable of committing treason?
I froze at the door, utterly dumbfounded, and Father issued his command to leave once more.
"Not looking forward to your martial arts lesson? And here I am, your own father, granting the very thing you desired."
"Ah! Thank you, Father!"
"Good. Off you go, then. Take a look at the training grounds while you're at it."
"Yes, Father! Nari! Let's go, hurry!"
I decided to pretend I hadn't heard what Father had just said. I had no idea what would happen if I poked at it carelessly.
I don't know what Father is scheming, but I have no desire to be locked up in a dungeon after being lucky enough to be born into royalty.
Thud!
Once Mujin hurried out with Nari, Wang Inho let out a faint chuckle.
"That boy. Is he a coward, or is he sharp as a blade?"
The truth was, Wang Inho had been testing how Mujin would react to the word "king."
As long as the Choe Clan held the Goryeo throne in its grip, a final reckoning was inevitable one day. And if they drove the Choe Clan out, Wang Inho had no intention of leaving the current Goryeo royal house untouched.
That was why he had tested Mujin — though he hadn't particularly expected anything from the reaction. Like it or not, the boy was an eight-year-old child.
And yet the brat had actually chosen to play dumb.
Having judged Mujin favorably on many counts that day, Wang Inho sat down with his finished tea.
But not a single sip passed his lips before the tea went cold.
"Clan Lord! Han Taesang of the Azure Dragon Pavilion! May I enter?"
"Enter."
The moment Wang Inho spoke, the door burst open and Han Taesang darted in as if sprinting.
"Urgent news! The Choe Clan is moving on Byeokrando!"
"What did you say?"
"The intelligence unit you dispatched to Byeokrado has confirmed that nobles affiliated with the Choe Clan are buying up land there."
Wang Inho's brow furrowed deep. He had sent the intelligence unit out of a faint, half-formed suspicion — and yet the Choe Clan truly was at work.
"So they intend to cut off our family's lifeline first."
Byeokrando was Goryeo's greatest trading port, founded by the Wang Clan and managed by them for generations.
Of course, three-tenths of the port's profits were sent to the Goryeo royal house as a token of loyalty — but it was an open secret that the money ultimately ended up in the Choe Clan's coffers.
Crunch.
Wang Inho ground his teeth — and at the same time, the corner of his mouth curled upward.
He didn't appreciate anyone daring to covet Byeokrando, but the moment this intelligence reached his hands, it was as good as half a victory in the coming war with the Choe Clan.
Byeokrando was, quite literally, the merchants' playground.
Every capable merchant in Goryeo flocked there, alongside foreign traders from Song and the Japanese isles. Even merchants from unfamiliar lands like Jiaozhi or the Abbasid realm of the Arabs gathered at its docks.
If word spread that the Choe Clan was setting its sights on such a place, the merchants of Byeokrando would have no choice but to throw their support behind the Wang Clan, whether they liked it or not.
The Choe Clan must have planned to seize their stake in the port by buying up land before such rumors could spread — but they had walked straight into the Wang Clan's information network instead.
He had intended to settle matters within his own generation, and now his enemy had conveniently revealed its hostility first. The just cause was his.
Nothing mattered more in war than a just cause.
Without one — or with too thin a one — soldiers who meekly followed orders at the outset could turn unpredictable at any moment.
They might defect to the enemy, or band together and plot a mutiny among themselves.
Popular support mattered too. Who was it that funded a war?
The people.
And the people would never cooperate willingly in an unjust fight.
In other words, no faction would aid the Choe Clan — while conversely, plenty would aid the Wang Clan.
And there was Mujin, the heir, besides.
His mouth was a bit foul and his conduct was pure street urchin, but he had talent for the martial arts.
On top of that, despite his tender age, he was unnaturally eloquent.
I don't yet know how much talent he truly has for the martial path, but knowing he has any at all is a relief. As for his many flaws... they'll improve as I teach him the arts of kingship.
Every circumstance pointed to the throne. Sensing it instinctively, Wang Inho murmured under his breath.
What else could this be but Heaven's will — to destroy the Choe Clan and raise a new royal house over Goryeo?
"Nari! You heard what Father just said too, right? What the hell is going on?!"
"........."
"?"
When Nari gave no answer, I turned around — and only then saw her face drained bone-white, her hands trembling uncontrollably.
"Nari?"
"...Ah! Yes, Young Lord!"
Young Lord? Nari only ever called me that when she was flustered and reaching for a habit — which meant I understood in an instant that she was gripped by terror.
And at the same moment, I understood what she was terrified of.
"Just because Father said I'd become king, do you really have to be that scared? Of course I know it'd be disastrous if word got out. But even with watered-down blood, royal blood is still royal blood, isn't it? I could give a king or two a good long stare, at least."
"Young Lord! Lower your voice! What if someone hears you?!"
Nari shook her head wildly, eyes darting around us.
"Young Lo— Sogaju-nim! Even a royal of the Goryeo house could be executed for treason for saying such a thing!"
"Ah... didn't know that part."
So it's straight to the executioner, huh?
Nari was left utterly speechless at my reckless attitude. What on earth was this man planning to do with himself?
Please, please just don't cause a disaster...
"Sorry, Nari. But Father isn't the kind of man to say something like that without a reason, is he?"
"That may be, but what reason would that be...?"
"Here. Take a good look at my face."
"Yes?"
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Does this look like the face of a future king to you?"
Maybe I should just go home.
Nari felt a sudden, pressing need to consider the question seriously.
Chatting with Nari as we walked, we arrived at the training grounds before I knew it. The grounds sat in the innermost corner of Daehyeongung — an octagonal floor of fitted stone ringed by pines so thick with auras of refined energy that the whole place seemed designed to maximize the serenity essential to internal cultivation.
The more one channeled inner energy and the more techniques one deployed, the more turbid qi slowly accumulated in the body. Martial artists purged this turbidity through breathing meditation and circulation exercises.
But here, that turbid qi might barely accumulate at all.
No — maybe it would even be purified the instant it formed.
An innate iron-boned constitution, the privileges of royal blood, the memories of a past life, and a talent even Mujin himself didn't fully understand. With just those four things, becoming a supreme master was no dream at all.
I was quietly mulling all this over when I sensed someone approaching from behind.
"Greetings, Sogaju-nim. I am Moyong Hu, Commander of the Royal Sword Brigade."
At the sound of the voice, I turned to find a man introducing himself as the brigade commander holding a formal salute. He was handsome enough to be called distinguished even in middle age, with a soft, gentle voice.
But — the Royal Sword Brigade?
If it was that brigade, wasn't it the clan lord's personal elite force, the only unit that recruited purely on martial strength with no regard for birth? And its commander, at that.
"Would you happen to be my martial arts instructor?"
"Yes, that is so. Have you finished looking around the training grounds?"
"I've only just arrived, but... if you're a Moyong, are you from the Moyong Clan of the Central Plains? In that case, you wouldn't be a Goryeo man, would you...?"
"That involves matters a little too deep to explain. I will tell you the story in due time."
With that, Moyong Hu strode out onto the training grounds.
"Sogaju-nim. You are the Young Clan Lord, yet the Clan Lord himself instructed me to treat you as any ordinary disciple. Are you certain that is acceptable?"
"Father already ordered it — do I really have any say in the matter?"
"Hahaha. None whatsoever. I merely asked."
Is this son of a—
I shot Moyong Hu a sidelong glare, but he brushed it off without a care and kept talking.
"Now that the pleasantries are done, shall we begin the lesson at once? I've only handed off the barest of duties to my deputy, so unlike some people, I'm not exactly swimming in free time."
The tone — one that clearly implied anyone could see who the idle one here was — made my face twist on the spot.
Is this bastard doing this on purpose?
"I'm not exactly idle myself, you know. Let's wrap this up quick so I can get to lunch."
"Ah. Is that so."
That utter indifference in his voice — something hot began rising up from deep inside me.
But I wanted to learn martial arts as soon as possible, so I barely managed to swallow it back down.
Hoo—
In the time it took me to exhale one hot breath, Moyong Hu continued as if he'd noticed nothing at all.
"Before we begin training in earnest, let's pick your weapon."
He gestured toward a rack of wooden training weapons beside us, and my interest immediately shifted that way.
Beating that bastard senseless isn't possible right now, so shelve that for later... A weapon? I used a sword in my past life. Should I just stick with what I know?
"The weapon I would recommend is the spear."
The spear, huh...
It wasn't as if I'd never touched one in my past life. It was only a bamboo staff, granted, but its reach and range were unrivaled.
Consider two untrained civilians fighting each other — one wielding a sword, the other a spear. When both thrust their weapons forward, the one that lands first is, naturally, the longer weapon.
And that's the end of it.
The moment the spear skewers flesh, the sword loses its original arc and dances in empty air. That's why most soldiers carried spears rather than swords.
Even without deep mastery of any weapon, a spear was threatening.
And yet novice murim-types — especially the greenhorns so fresh to the sword that calling them "swordsman" was an embarrassment — looked down on spearmen.
Their logic: if you closed in tight and swung a blade, the comparatively long spear couldn't respond in time.
Well. It wasn't entirely wrong.
But I'd always dismissed that logic as nonsense. Getting close in the first place was the impossible part.
The spearmen's entire method of combat was built around measuring distance — how simple did they think closing that gap would be?
So unless one had reached first-rate warrior or beyond, even attempting to fight a spearman by controlling distance was nearly out of the question.
Swordsmen who had actually crossed blades with spearmen learned this truth the hard way, while novices chose the sword because it looked cool and was easy to carry around.
But that doesn't make the spear the supreme weapon, either.
Conversely, only once one surpassed first-rate warrior could one close the distance against a spearman. The higher one's realm climbed, the smaller the role the weapon itself played in a fight.
In short — the spear was supreme for beginners, but among masters it was simply one weapon among many. Moyong Hu had surely seized on exactly that point when recommending it to Mujin.
So what should I do?
If I chose the spear, the swordsmanship of my past life went to waste. If I chose the sword, I risked exposing my skill and drawing dangerous scrutiny. I even considered picking the sword and deliberately pretending to be terrible with it for a while — but the man teaching me martial arts was the commander of the Royal Sword Brigade.
Just the aura I could sense off him towered far beyond Peak Master level. If a former first-rate warrior like me ham-fistedly acted like he couldn't swing a sword, it would only look more suspicious.
And if I did draw suspicion, so what...? — no, even by my own reckoning, that was living far too recklessly. I let out a silent snort and decided to just do what I'd always done.
I'm the Young Clan Lord of this family. Surely no one's going to do me harm.
At that thought, Wang Inho's face flashed through my mind — but I forced myself to ignore it.
My body must be run down; I'm seeing hallucinations.
I'd have to ask Nari to brew some ginseng tea later.
"I want to use the sword."
"Hmm. The sword is a fine weapon. There is a saying — the body and the sword become one — for the sword is the weapon a person can master most completely."
Outwardly, Moyong Hu praised Mujin's choice — but inwardly, it was another matter entirely.
For a beginner, the spear is ideal. I meant to teach the spear first to familiarize him with wielding a weapon, then slowly introduce the various weapon arts... but that's ruined now. The Clan Lord rates him highly, but a child is still a child.
You utter dog of a man, you're looking down on me as a kid right now, aren't you? Fine. One of these days I'll smash that pretty face of yours in.
And so, each silently despising the other, Mujin and Moyong Hu took up their wooden swords and stood at the center of the training grounds.
"Now then, with your weapon chosen, all you need do is follow my movements. The first sword art I shall teach you is the Three Calamities Sword Technique. Nooow~ take the sword in both hands and sweep strongly out to your left—"
The Three Calamities Sword Technique?
You want me, of all people, to copy the basic sword art that even the mutts in the gutter learn? Born into a family this fine, with all this opportunity, and the first thing I'm taught is the Three Calamities Sword Technique?
Of course, I knew the plan: drill the fundamentals with it, then gradually move up to higher-tier arts. Learn how to move the body, learn how to handle a weapon, and finally awaken inner energy.
That was the orthodox way to teach a beginner — jumping straight into advanced techniques would be like reading the Thousand Character Classic to a cow.
But if I built my foundation slowly like that, when exactly was I supposed to get strong? Before I reached adulthood I'd be a little stronger than my past life, but that still wouldn't satisfy me.
I wanted to grow stronger, faster.
I wanted this life — this life above all — to be the one where my talent finally bloomed.
And it was that very desire that walked Mujin straight into the tiger's den.
"Forget basic sword arts like the Three Calamities. Let's have a spar instead."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"That stuff I could learn from a book. I'd rather use the time to show the Commander what I can actually do."
"Hahaha... if this is a jest, please put an end to it at once. How can a warrior who has never even learned martial arts spar with an eight-year-old child? Besides, I don't believe Sogaju-nim grasps this, but my realm stands well above—"
"Father told you to treat me like any ordinary disciple, didn't he? Are you defying the Clan Lord's direct orders? My, my, isn't that overstepping your authority~ Or are you scared? Scared of losing to a child, running off crying to the Clan Lord wailing that a little boy hit you?"
I know perfectly well I couldn't beat him even with ten thousand lives. But right now, this is the only way. Otherwise I'll be stuck grinding the Three Calamities Sword Technique for months — when would I ever get to advanced arts?
I needed to show everyone here exactly how good I was, and raise the intensity of my training while I was at it.
Tap.
Something quietly snapped — but I made a show of not noticing.
Honestly? It scared the living hell out of me.
Even in my past life it would have been frightening, and the me of now carried inner energy worse than a third-rate warrior's — while Moyong Hu was a master beyond Peak Master level.
If I said I wasn't afraid, I'd be lying.
For a moment I thought myself brave, but I quickly shook my head.
I wasn't brave at all.
The desire to settle the grudges left unfinished in my past life, the hunger to see my talent blossom in a proper environment — those had merely swallowed my fear, if only for a moment.
Shaaaaaaa.
The pines ringing the training grounds suddenly began to sway in the wind.
"You will take responsibility for those words... won't you?"
Gulp.
Somehow, I had a feeling this would be the second time since my rebirth that I'd be staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling.