The Test (1)
“Understood. Go ahead.”
“Yes, sir!”
The shadow departed, leaving Namgung Hancheol alone once more.
“Interesting.”
If anyone had overheard those words, they would have been stunned. Namgung Hancheol, said to have reached the realm of the demigod—there was hardly anything in this world that could pique his interest. Yet here he was, smiling.
* * *
Five years flew by in the blink of an eye.
He'd smuggled out most of the young children and paintings from the nursery. Seeing the place so empty now made all his past efforts feel even more worthwhile.
“Head maid. Everything's ready, right?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Good.”
Today was his last day here. After eight years, he'd grown attached to the place, but as the moment to leave arrived, any sentiment was drowned out by a surge of pure relief.
His brothers and father were probably too busy with training to notice. By now, his eldest brother had surely reached the Peak realm, the second at the pinnacle of first-rate, and the third just barely scraping into first-rate.
In his past life, he'd have been scrambling to catch up since five years ago, slaving away at martial arts training. But not this time—he hadn't even touched the basics of cultivation. His soft, callus-free hands were proof enough.
He clenched his fists, savoring the tender feel.
Now the real fun begins.
Namgung Clan Escape Plan. The moment he left here, he'd be living at the main family estate. And first up: three tests.
Screeech.
The nursery door swung open. Time to go for real.
The Crimson Blood Unit should be coming again.
The Crimson Blood Unit, the outer court's main force, handled escort duties for the Namgung Clan. Unless things had changed from his past life, they'd be the ones to pick him up.
Sure enough, fifty men in crimson robes marched in through the entrance.
“The Crimson Blood Unit pays respects to the Namgung Clan's youngest young master!”
All fifty dropped to their knees in unison. Not a single motion out of place. It wasn't servile—it was majestic.
Leading them was the Crimson Blood Captain, at the Super Peak realm. Outside the clan, he'd be an elder of a major sect, but here, he was just one captain among the outer court's battalions.
“The main family awaits the youngest young master.”
Time to enter the tiger's den.
“Let's go.”
“Yes, sir!”
Mid-stride, the captain halted abruptly, scanning the entire nursery. He nodded to himself, then looked at him with pity.
“You've endured so much.”
It was a total breeze.
“Holding out for five more years even after the elders' council cut off support—and growing so well, too. Heaven must be watching over you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Such a positive spirit on top of it all! No matter what happens on the way to the main family, the Crimson Blood Unit will protect you with our lives.”
The captain led the shout, echoed by the entire unit.
“We offer our lives!”
“We'll guard even a single hair on your head!”
“......Alright. Take care of me.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes, sir!”
He'd always thought the Crimson Blood Unit's flaw was their rigid loyalty. That's why they handled outer court duties...
But support cut off...?
No reason for the captain to lie. As far as he knew, the man was neutral, loyal to no faction within the clan.
Nah, must be a misunderstanding.
If anything, support had poured in even more lavishly these last five years—especially fine antiques and porcelain, like someone knew his tastes.
* * *
Two hours in the Crimson Blood Unit's carriage brought them to the main estate. The day he'd finally meet the family.
All the direct descendants would be waiting beyond this gate to greet him.
And they're expecting great things.
Today marked his debut to the clan, but also their first judgment of him. The main reason they'd gathered: to assess his talent.
First impressions were everything. Today, in front of every direct descendant, he planned to flop spectacularly. Bad enough that they'd whisper the clan's youngest young master had zero talent for martial arts.
Here we go!
The gate to the Namgung estate opened.
Just follow the plan...
Uh...
His mind blanked.
An utterly unexpected figure loomed right in front of him.
Why the hell is that guy here?
They called him many things: the Tianxia's Greatest, head of the Namgung Clan, the Martial God. And his father.
Today was indeed when the whole family gathered. But his father had never shown up for his brothers' welcome ceremonies—not for the first, second, or third—not even in his past life.
The man stuck to his private training hall.
This is bad... He can't be here.
His father's exact realm was unknown—estimated at Manifestation, maybe higher. No one in the martial world surpassed him. Only he knew the truth.
And if anyone could see through today's fiasco, it'd be Dad.
Damn it.
If only he'd holed up training like always!
The Crimson Blood Unit spotted the father and paid respects.
“Crimson Blood Captain and First Platoon, paying respects to the head of the Namgung Clan!”
“Good work. Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir!”
As the unit left, he stood there awkwardly. The head maid and maids bowed quickly.
“The head maid pays respects to the head of the Namgung Clan.”
“Fourth young master's first maid pays respects...”
“Fourth young master's second maid...”
“Fourth young master's third maid...”
His father ignored them, stepping right up to him. He froze. Just standing there, the Tianxia's Greatest aura crushed him.
Shiver.
No ten-year-old could withstand that pressure.
“Why no greeting?”
“......”
“You do know who I am, right?”
“......”
“If not, I'll have to kill all your maids.”
If he stayed silent, the man might actually slaughter them here. His own father had stood by when his dantian shattered in the young master contest.
Clearly, martial arts were all that mattered—family or not.
Squeezing out every ounce of strength, he spoke.
“Your son, Namgung Daeso, pays respects to the head of the Namgung Clan.”
Whoosh.
His father spun on his heel. He watched, dumbfounded.
What? He came all this way just for my greeting?
Unlikely, but what else made sense?
As Namgung Hancheol passed, the crowd parted. He addressed them.
“Elder council leader, handle the rest. Don't summon me unless it's urgent.”
“Understood.”
His father left, and the welcome proceeded.
Why'd he even show...?
At least he was gone now—good for the plan.
No hitches ahead.
The clan's tension eased with the food. His brothers eyed him curiously, not warily. He flashed bright smiles whenever their gazes met.
No point making enemies of them.
Unlike before, he had zero interest in competing.
The frail, cute little brother vibe—that's my angle!
He'd been quite the looker in his youth. Not bragging, but among the brothers, he took after their mother—called the Heavenly Beauty—the most.
The young girls around blushed at his smiles, though he hadn't meant to.
You guys fight over young master. I'm sitting this out.
He smiled at his brothers.
* * *
The welcome neared its end. Food done, greetings exchanged. Only the talent tests remained.
All non-direct descendants were forced out. This was the real event.
Every direct Namgung here had faced these tests and been judged.
“Commence the first test. Bring out the weights!”
At the elder council leader's command, iron spheres of varying sizes were placed in the center.
Thud. Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
Seven in total, growing larger left to right.
“You all know what day this is. It's the youngest young master's welcome, but also the day we gauge his vessel as a direct descendant. Three tests total. The first measures innate strength. Namgung Daeso, step forward and lift the spheres!”
“Yes.”
Strength was essential for martial arts. Weights: 1 geun, 10 geun, 100 geun, 200 geun, 300 geun, 400 geun, 500 geun from left.
In the past, his brothers lifted 300, 400, and 500 geun respectively. Third brother: 300. Second: 400. Eldest: 500!
He approached the smallest, leftmost sphere. All eyes tracked him intently.
Even without the Namgung name, 200 geun was beyond any child—or most adults.
Yet they stared at the 200-geun one as if it were obvious. They'd all passed it themselves. To them, it was obvious.
He stood before the first and lifted it effortlessly.
Whoosh.
Bored sighs rippled. They wanted him at 200 geun fast.
But he had no such plans.
Past life, his max was 100 geun—after five years of training.
Next, the 10-geun one. Lifted.
Then 100 geun.
“Hup!”
He strained with the same shout. But it didn't budge.
The elder council leader gaped, incredulous.
“What are you doing? Joking around here?!”
Old man's got lungs for his age.
He gripped again. “Hup!”
Nothing. He wasn't faking—he truly couldn't.
Dropping it, he looked around innocently. “Haha, this is too heavy!”
Disappointment spread. Some even left.
Whispers: “A dud this time.”
“Youngest has the worst talent. No point watching.”
“Shouldn't have hoped.”
“We're out. Waste of time.”
The elder couldn't stop them, disappointed. Second test: agility. More flops, more departures.
Now the third and final.
Who remained: Eldest brother Namgung Dae and his aides. Second brother Namgung Jung and his. Third brother Namgung So and his. The core players.
Perfect. The wary ones had already bailed.
These leftovers...
They'd watch him as a young master candidate until the contest. Time to plant the seed deep: I have no interest in martial arts. No desire to be young master. Don't want the damn clan!
“Now, testing Namgung Daeso's qi sense. We'll use the Namgung Clan's secret art, the Daecheong Simbeop. Step forward.”
“Yes!”
His pointless bravado drew frowns. To them, he was the oblivious ugly duckling.
* * *
......Atop the pavilion.
Outside everyone's sight. No one noticed.
One person hadn't left.
Hmm...
He still wore a bored expression.