Chapter 297
Chapter 297
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 297
Chapter Title: Nangong Clan
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The Blazing Inferno led the unorthodox warriors in pursuit of the orthodox ones, but the orthodox warriors managed to shake them off reasonably successfully and return to the vicinity of Kaifeng.
Fortunately, there weren't many additional casualties. As long as Dang Mujin spread poison from the rear of the retreating formation, most unorthodox warriors had no choice but to give up the chase.
Finally, as night ended and the sun hung over the eastern hills, the orthodox warriors could collapse in place and catch their breath.
Hoo, hoo, whoo—
The people's ragged breathing slowly settled.
The problem was that the mood sank along with their breaths.
Some had lagged in their performance, while others had shone exceptionally, but the fact remained: they had lost the battle.
Defeat in battle inevitably led someone to step forward and assign blame.
However, it was hard to pin this loss on any individual. Hadn't they known from the start they were outnumbered? The fact that casualties were limited and they escaped in one piece was already a blessing.
People's gazes wandered here and there before finally settling on Hyun-gong.
Hyun-gong had fought bravely and, at the end, even shown cleverness to aid everyone's retreat.
Yet his face was exceedingly dark.
The others understood the meaning of that expression similarly.
'He's pretending it doesn't bother him, but it must weigh heavily on his mind. Well, having to lie in front of so many people, making the title of "Honest Hyun-gong" ring hollow...'
Flower Blossom Old Beggar approached Hyun-gong and comforted him.
"Don't blame yourself too much. How can anyone live their whole life speaking only the truth? People have to lie sometimes. Besides, what you said wasn't so much a lie as a clever ruse—no one will hold it against you."
Hyun-gong replied glumly.
"Well, if clinging to a nickname others gave me means I can't save the lives of the masses, what could be more foolish? Better no such empty fame at all. Even if I'm branded the world's greatest liar, I have no regrets."
Dang Mujin, listening from the side, thought to himself.
'Is the world finally realizing Hyun-gong's true nature?'
But the reactions from Flower Blossom Old Beggar and the other orthodox warriors were different.
They were simply impressed by the depth of Hyun-gong's character.
"Liar? Such rumors won't spread. Who would dare call their lifesaver a liar without shame?"
Almost everyone nodded in unison. Only then did Hyun-gong manage a bitter smile.
He'd made appropriate excuses, but in truth, his dark expression had nothing to do with fearing rumors of being a liar.
He was simply frustrated because Dang Mujin had thrown his plans into disarray.
In fact, Hyun-gong had intended to halt at an opportune moment, stay behind, and make a sacrifice.
Of course, that sacrifice didn't mean dying in place of the others.
He planned to put up just enough resistance to get captured by the Blazing Inferno, then bide his time and defect to the Demonic Cult.
'Getting captured as a rearguard sacrifice during the retreat would have been perfect timing.'
But Dang Mujin had shaken off the unorthodox warriors too quickly with his poison arts, squandering the chance to get caught.
'...Next time, I'll make it happen no matter what.'
As Hyun-gong refined his plans in his head, people's attention shifted to the warriors from the Nangong Clan. Just nine in number. Too few to call reinforcements.
There had been two main reasons for their defeat in the previous battle.
The unexpected presence of the Shadowless Guest tying up Dang Mujin and Nangong Myeong, and the Nangong Clan's reinforcements being far smaller than anticipated.
The Shaolin monks and Beggars' Sect disciples inwardly wanted to voice their disappointment to the Nangong warriors, but the situation didn't allow it. After all, they were the ones receiving aid from the Nangong Clan.
Confronting the Nangong warriors here about the small scale of support would be inappropriate.
It would be like complaining to someone who pulled you from drowning, "Why didn't you save me sooner?"
Still, they at least deserved to know the reason.
Manryeok-seung approached the Nangong warriors and spoke.
"This humble monk is Cheonguk. Thank you for coming all this way."
The Nangong warriors, perhaps harboring their own reservations, hesitated a bit before replying.
"You're Manryeok-seung. We're only sorry we couldn't arrive sooner."
"It's fine. You came by the promised date, so you're not late. Might I ask where the others are?"
Manryeok-seung phrased it tactfully, implying the reinforcements were too few.
The man who appeared to be the leader of the Nangong reinforcements answered.
"We're all there is. Southern unorthodox warriors have risen again, so most of our clan's warriors had to remain in Anhui Province."
"I see."
"In truth, many argued we should stay in Anhui too, but the clan lord insisted on sending us to Kaifeng. Since we'd already sent word promising aid, it was right to send even a small force, he said."
"Ah... I see."
So it wasn't that they'd held back troops—they'd scraped together what they could.
It was a reasonable and easily understandable excuse, melting away Manryeok-seung's lingering disappointment.
If anything, he now felt grateful for Nangong Jincheon's character in forcing the dispatch.
Yet the Nangong warriors still seemed weighed down.
"Our numbers are few, but we'll fight with our lives. Please don't hold it against us."
"How could we? We're grateful for the Nangong Clan's help."
A few brief words of appreciation were exchanged. Contrary to the grim situation, the conversation ended on a fairly warm note.
However, the furrow in Nangong Myeong's brow never smoothed out.
*
Nangong Myeong couldn't shake his suspicions and sought out the Nangong Clan warriors.
Among the nine, he didn't need to bother with the leader. In such situations, it was better to approach someone more approachable.
Nangong Myeong circled the Nangong warriors, scouting for a suitable person.
The Nangong group had traveled all night and slept during the day. Yet one was already awake early, wandering about.
Nangong Heonwi. Nangong Myeong's cousin, two years his junior.
Nangong Myeong quietly approached and spoke.
"Heonwi."
"Eek!"
Nangong Heonwi jumped as if his heart might leap out. He hadn't sensed Nangong Myeong approaching at all.
Clutching his chest, he looked up at Nangong Myeong in a half-collapsed posture.
"Brother!"
Nangong Myeong smiled warmly.
How many years had it been since he'd met family and shared words?
"You're still as timid and faint-hearted as ever. No, even more so? Back then, you wouldn't have toppled over from a single greeting."
"I wouldn't have startled if you'd greeted me normally. How did you hide your presence like that?"
"Just a trick picked up wandering the world. Even if I told you, you couldn't replicate it."
"I know. Just curious."
Nangong Myeong sat down beside Nangong Heonwi.
Nangong Heonwi wasn't a standout in the Nangong Clan.
His martial prowess wasn't exceptional for a clan warrior, his temperament mild, and his mother's origins lowly.
In his narrow-minded youth, Nangong Myeong had looked down on him, seeing no redeeming qualities.
Looking back, it was petty, but back then it felt natural.
Half due to his own flawed character, half to the Nangong Clan's culture.
The Nangong Clan's ethos boiled down to ambition and reverence for the strong—a microcosm of the martial world.
Clan members competed endlessly, trampling each other to rise.
Through ceaseless rivalry, they honed skills, then used those exceptional abilities to spread the Nangong name far and wide. That was their way.
It seemed admirable at a glance. But the side effects were severe.
The competition was so intense that even the clan lord's eldest son, Nangong Myeong, found the internal atmosphere more stifling than the outside world.
When he'd been exiled and slaved away at a merchant guild, the physical toil was harsh, but his mind had known peace for that reason.
Nangong Myeong, at least as the eldest son and top among his peers, had it better.
For someone like Nangong Heonwi, it was different. Praised as a fine young clansman outside the walls, treated as negligible inside.
And self-esteem is a profoundly important thing for a person. Far more than one might think.
Nangong Heonwi spoke to Nangong Myeong.
"It's been ages, and you've softened quite a bit."
"Life outside the clan does that. Live beyond the walls, and you'll soften too. Why not leave home now?"
Nangong Heonwi didn't answer, smiling bashfully in a way unbefitting a Nangong man.
Nangong Myeong lay obliquely, propping his head on one hand, elbow on the ground.
That posture alone made Nangong Heonwi sense something changed in him.
Nangong Myeong spoke again.
"No joke. Make some excuse and slip away. That's enough to start."
"Oh, come on, how could I..."
"Don't live as one of countless Nangong kin. Live as Heonwi the individual. Abandon the surname if you must. It'll be far more fulfilling."
Nangong Heonwi's eyes widened. The old Nangong Myeong would never have said such a thing.
Like other clansmen, the past Nangong Myeong had seen the clan as his whole world.
"You have no plans to return to the clan?"
"Nothing set in stone."
"I've heard the clan lord speaks proudly of you lately. He'll be deeply disappointed if you don't return."
The last time Nangong Myeong saw Nangong Jincheon was the day he lost his left arm.
He recalled his state that day—surely seething with rage. Nangong Jincheon must have approved.
Or perhaps it was his vastly improved martial arts. Or both.
But now, Nangong Myeong was free.
"My whereabouts aren't up to Father's mood. They're up to my choice."
"You've changed. A lot..."
"Yeah. And you could change too. No need to resign yourself to your role."
Nangong Heonwi shook his head slightly. The topic felt burdensome.
"Anyway, why did you seek me out?"
"Just so. You came to mind."
"No way. You've never visited without reason."
Not wrong. The old Nangong Myeong had sought him out to vent or subtly crush him to ease insecurities.
Of course, the current Nangong Myeong wasn't that fool.
But coincidentally, he did have business this time.
'...'
Nangong Myeong felt awkward.
And he resolved to visit Nangong Heonwi next time for no reason—just to check on him.
"Heonwi. Actually, I have something to ask."
"What is it?"
"Is it true the Nangong Clan is in crisis?"
"...Yes."
Nangong Myeong caught the slight hesitation before the answer but pressed on without showing it.
"Even if Father doesn't come himself, you'd think Uncle Jinya at least would. His absence suggests it's gravely serious?"
"Yes."
Instant reply this time. But Nangong Myeong continued.
"Among the unorthodox warriors, who were the famous ones involved?"
"That—I don't know. I wasn't in the fighting."
"Fair enough. But if it's bad enough to call a crisis, there must be many dead or wounded. Worrying."
"I'm worried too."
"Who died? Who was injured too badly to wield a sword?"
Nangong Heonwi fell silent, lips sealed.
Nangong Myeong laughed fiercely.
"I see. So the Nangong Clan being in crisis was a lie."
He could piece it together.
Over recent generations, the Nangong Clan had risen dazzlingly.
Starting as a modest warrior family, it became renowned, then prominent. Now, it was a giant clan counted among the top in Anhui and the Central Plains.
The Nangong Clan had surged ahead, overtaking long-established families and sects.
Now, some even ranked it just below Shaolin Temple.
That meant Shaolin was their next—and final—target.
But Shaolin was different from others.
The odds of surpassing it in one or two generations were nil. Shaolin was peerless.
If they could catch up in a century or two, that would be fortunate—but even that was uncertain.
'Father.'
As Nangong Myeong recalled, Nangong Jincheon's greatest concern wasn't unorthodox sects or the Demonic Cult. It was Shaolin's movements.
He surely hadn't missed the tales of Mok Inhang and the Thirty-Six Arhats.
He knew full well that, left alone, the gap with Shaolin would only widen endlessly.
'Father. Do you want to stand at the top even if it means dragging Shaolin down?'
Nangong Myeong sighed deeply and rose. He patted Nangong Heonwi's back.
"You've helped greatly. I won't breathe a word of getting the clue from you."
Nangong Heonwi had met Nangong Myeong after a very long time. And the meeting was exceedingly brief.
Yet from its start to its end, he realized Nangong Myeong had changed somewhere.
"...Brother. What are you planning?"
"Nothing much."
Nangong Myeong looked to the sky. The sun was setting, darkness approaching.
In the distance, unorthodox warriors crept closer. Amid the gloom, the Shadowless Guest seemed faintly visible.
Nangong Myeong said,
"Just that things seem to be going well at home."
Too well to stand by and watch.