The Patriarch's Offer
.... Phew.
A minor incident had occurred, but fortunately it was soon forgotten. After that, the celebration banquet concluded without further trouble. Gwiryong's words had been entirely accurate. Most of those present kept stealing glances at me. Yet none of them picked a fight the way that fellow had earlier; their eyes held genuine interest instead.
When representatives from smaller sects asked if I would join them, or when one family offered to introduce their daughter, I politely declined. Had we been outside these walls, pressure might have been applied, but they seemed mindful of the gazes from those standing behind them and refrained from pushing further.
I was exhausted—not physically, but mentally. I wanted nothing more than to collapse somewhere and sleep, yet that was impossible. The letter tucked inside my robes could not simply be ignored.
I stopped the first Namgung clansman I saw and showed him the letter. Startled, he led me straight to the patriarch's hall.
"This is Ha Munbang, currently serving at the Murim Alliance. I have brought the one called Jin Sowoon."
The patriarch's hall was vast, even among the many grand buildings within the Namgung estate.
"Enter," came a low, resonant voice from within, granting permission.
It was the same voice I had heard once in person and once through sound transmission. Ha Munbang opened the door, and the scent of fresh ink and paper washed over me.
Inside the spacious room, seated amid piles of documents, a man looked up at me. This was the one who had summoned me—Namgung Hyeok, head of the Namgung Clan. He had mastered the Changgung Muaegeombop, leaving his hair snow-white and his eyes a piercing blue. Though advanced in years, his back remained straight and his brow largely unlined. Even seated, he gave the impression of towering height.
I hesitated over how to greet him. In the Heavenly Demon Cult, the only salutations I had ever offered my superiors were the rote phrases of flattery and obedience. In the end, I settled for something plain.
"Greetings, Clan Head."
"Yes. Are you well?"
"I am."
Contrary to his imposing appearance, Namgung Hyeok's tone was gentle. It did not feel like he was softening his manner for a child; this seemed to be his natural way of speaking. Namgung Seha was the same. Perhaps the Namgung bloodline produced people whose eyes and hair gave them a cold impression, while their hearts remained warm.
"Well, your face says otherwise. You look exhausted."
He gave a small chuckle and regarded me.
"I already heard you two had met, but Seha insisted she wanted to see you, so I called you to the main house. I've been told quite a bit already, yet I wished to meet my daughter's friend in person and judge for myself."
In short, he intended to assess my character directly and decide whether to keep me near Seha or separate us permanently. Reporting information about a target to one's superiors was standard procedure for infiltration or protection details, and the Namgung Clan was no exception. Thanks to Kang Wook's loose tongue, they likely already possessed every detail about me. The fact that they had still summoned me suggested they had received mostly favorable reports and simply wanted to confirm them firsthand.
Thanks to Father's abundant love... That seemed to fit.
"I will ask only a few questions."
"Yes."
He straightened, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin atop them as he fixed me with a calm gaze.
"How did you meet my daughter?"
The very first question was brutal. How had we met? I could hardly say I had locked her in my room for ten days until we grew close. My mind refused to cooperate. The longer the silence stretched, the more suspicious the question became, so I offered the least damning answer I could manage.
".... We met while walking down the street."
"Would you elaborate?"
Apparently my answer had been insufficient. A chill seemed to gather around Namgung Hyeok. Fearing that further hesitation would see my head parted from my shoulders by whatever sword lay hidden beneath that desk, I answered in a somewhat rambling fashion.
"Well, I once came to Hapbi briefly—very briefly—following someone I knew. I ran into trouble there. Namgung Seha helped me. We've exchanged letters on and off ever since."
"Hmm..."
Namgung Hyeok swallowed a dissatisfied sound. Even to my own ears, the story sounded utterly implausible. He smiled awkwardly.
"I suppose you realize how strange it sounds. If your meeting had been improper, Yuhwa would have noticed during her covert protection. There are still more questions to ask, so I will let it pass this once."
This once. The words carried an unmistakable warning that a second lapse would not be tolerated. I nodded, wondering what more difficult questions might follow.
He looked at me again.
"In truth, I have already heard several things about you from Kang Wook. I apologize for obtaining your information without permission. I hope you can understand a father's heart."
Anyone else might have taken offense, but I understood. Even ordinary people grew curious about someone visiting their home and made inquiries. It was only natural.
"Male. Ten years old. Resides in Namhyangchon, living with his widowed mother. I hear he has been obsessed with the sword for the past couple of months. Is that correct?"
"Yes. It is."
That was the limit of information obtainable without direct contact. It seemed they had not employed the Beggars' Union or similar networks. After all, what more could be known about a rural boy beyond his name and residence?
"You must have heard this many times already, but 'remarkable' hardly does you justice. So let me ask: do you believe your own martial arts are unusual?"
Unusual. A roundabout way of asking whether they were demonic arts.
"As you can see, my eyes have always been black."
Demonic cultivation darkened one's inner energy and occasionally triggered violent impulses. Self-inflicted wounds often marked the body. Yet the one trait shared by all demonic arts was the crimson flush that overtook the eyes. I assumed Namgung Hyeok already knew this, so I simply tapped my eyes lightly.
"...You seem to know what demonic arts are."
I had slipped. The characteristics of demonic arts were not exactly secret, but they were not common knowledge either. Living in a world where such things were everyday matters had made me careless. Still, it was fine. I had not mentioned demonic arts directly. Fortunately, he showed no reaction.
"Demonic arts... Are they something the Demonic Cult practices? I lack the insight to know precisely, but if something is 'unusual,' it must be the Demonic Cult, yes? I heard their eyes turn red... Is that what you were asking about?"
I let the question trail off softly. Namgung Hyeok murmured, almost inaudibly, that I seemed to have guessed wrong. So he had suspected I might be a demonic practitioner.
"No. You are correct. The martial arts practiced by the Demonic Cult are indeed demonic arts, as you surmised. That serves as proof of their affiliation. Remember well: crimson eyes, and anyone from the Sima Clan."
He nodded to himself and muttered a few things under his breath. Then, as though he had reached a decision, he smiled at me.
"I think I need ask no more. Sowoon, you are a remarkably mature prodigy. It seems Seha has chosen her friend well."
A good friend, is she? She teased me about my height, seized on every word I said, and mocked me about everything under the sun—yet she was a good friend.
"Would you mind if I made you a proposal?"
Namgung Hyeok's voice grew solemn. A quiet pressure filled the air. If the Heavenly Demon's presence had been terror incarnate, this was the weight of authority—the aura of one born to lead. I found myself straightening without thinking.
"Join the main house as a martial artist. We will provide lodging for you and your family, and the moment you reach the Peak Realm, you will become a member of the Changgung Sword Squad."
"Your talent exceeds imagination. Even your original martial arts surpass the Plum Blossom Sword Art in speed. It is my sincere wish to bring you into the Namgung Clan by any means."
I hesitated briefly. Coordinating with Namgung Seha to handle future matters would be easiest if I remained in the Changgung Sword Squad, where contact would be simple. What bothered me was the thought of being bound to any single place. Namgung Seha, as a direct descendant rather than the heir, would eventually gain freedom to roam the martial world, but membership in the Changgung Sword Squad would make that difficult for me. Leaving was possible in theory, yet if departure were easy, it would not be an elite force.
Just as I was about to refuse, he continued.
"—That would be the official reason I give for acknowledging your existence."
An official reason? Did that mean there was another, truer reason?
"Once one becomes clan head, one learns many things. Especially how to see people with one's eyes."
He opened his eyes wide and met my gaze. They were the deep blue of an ocean vast enough to reflect another person whole.
"You are looking at a far wider world. The Changgung Sword Squad may be someone else's ultimate goal, but to you it is merely the Changgung Sword Squad."
He was right. Even the Changgung Sword Squad would struggle against two elders of the Heavenly Demon Cult and one of its martial forces. Having already seen the heavens, I could hardly be satisfied with so little.
"I already know that. I have no intention of forcing you to stay, either. It would be wrong to do so to a young martial artist."
Regrettably, this world contained far too many people who did exactly that. Even if the offer came with hidden strings, the mere fact that he refrained from coercion was astonishing.
"The reason I am offering you a place in the main house is because of Seha. She is the child I worry about most."
"You may not realize it, but Seha is unusually mature for her age. Combined with her particular way of speaking, she has never been able to make friends her own age. She tries to approach them, yet they are the ones who feel uncomfortable."
That made sense. Using formal speech was something one did upon entering the wider world, even with peers of equal standing. To children barely past ten, however, it would simply feel like distance.
"She is not like that with family, but I will die someday, and she cannot spend her entire life with only her older brother and younger sister."
Namgung Hyeok's voice had grown almost emotional.
"She has never called anyone a friend before. I have never seen her smile at someone her own age, nor heard her speak so comfortably."
"I know one must separate public and private matters, but I am a poor clan head and cannot manage it. Those three children growing beneath me are my entire world. I would do anything for them."
"Before she steps out into the world, simply stay by her side and spend time with her as you have until now. In addition to the earlier conditions, I will place your name in whichever squad you choose while excusing you from all duties. A genius like you would not benefit from such obligations anyway."
"What do you say?"
He had claimed that eyes could see a person's true nature. In mine, I saw not the Namgung Clan Head, but a father overflowing with love for his child. It was not a bad offer—quite the opposite. It was temporary, carried no real responsibility, and felt almost like a pleasant indulgence. Staying for a while would be fine.
"If my mother agrees, I would be glad to remain by Seha's side."