Martial Arts Masochist

“I cannot accept this.”

The voice of Wudang Sect’s Taiji Sword Venerable, Jang Taesu, rumbled through the space like a heavy boulder.

Along with his anger-laden voice, the waves of internal energy emanating from his body crushed the air.

It pressed down heavily, suppressing the entire conference hall for a moment, but the one other man gazing at the Sword Venerable did not waver in the slightest.

Sichuan Tang Clan’s Clan Leader Dang Jeokcheon raised his voice without flinching.

“This incident was an attack aimed at the Tang Clan of Sichuan. My own blood kin was caught up in this vortex as well. If not for the Hao Gate Leader’s tip-off, I cannot guarantee how things would have unfolded.”

Jang Taesu’s gaze flashed like sword light.

“And for that, how can you drag Yeongcheon into this affair!”

“Sword Venerable. Are you still protecting that worthless disciple of yours? It’s been ages since Yeongcheon was excommunicated. Isn’t it time you accepted that he’s no longer the boy you once knew? Moreover, Baek Sahyeon is in Yeongcheon’s group as well! This isn’t something to cover up just because he’s your disciple—you must face the fact that your disciple has targeted the Tang Clan of Sichuan!”

Having finished speaking, Dang Jeokcheon turned to the Shaolin Abbot without waiting for a reply. “Abbot! Make a decision at once. Declare Yeongcheon and his gang public enemies of murim! Of course, nothing would please me more than to exterminate them myself, but how they die is none of my concern. We’ll only get to see their corpses swiftly with your declaration!”

Dang Jeokcheon’s voice was laced with fury and humiliation.

Even he, called the Poison King, seemed unable to forgive himself for the near-miss of Baek Sahyeon’s spy infiltrating Dang Soran’s marriage talks.

It was the moment his true nature, hidden behind a benevolent expression, was revealed.

The moniker Poison King was not given lightly.

A man who could discard mercy when needed, becoming as cruel and ruthless as poison.

Even the one eye turned pure white was a remnant of his youth, when he had failed to suppress his fiery temperament and rampaged wildly.

Normally, Dang Jeokcheon would never speak in such a tone before the Sword Venerable and the Abbot.

But today was different.

He hid no emotions, and even the gathered murim folk lowered their heads slightly, holding their breath to avoid provoking the Poison King.

Namgung Yeon, seated in the conference hall, was no exception.

Though she hardened her expression to feign strength, it was hard to suppress her trembling heart.

This gathering was not yet a place for her to set foot in.

Breathing was difficult under the pressure from the two peak experts, the Taiji Sword Venerable and the Poison King.

Could Father have endured this?

Still lacking... as a son, her anguish deepened.

The Sword Venerable slammed the desk again, raising his voice.

“Yeongcheon has merely strayed for a time! I... I will swiftly find the boy and deal with that heart demon of his. He hasn’t committed sins warranting declaration as a public enemy of murim yet! Abbot, surely you know this too!”

“...”

At the Abbot’s silence, the Poison King continued.

“With Yeongcheon turning every place he passes into a blood path, how can you claim he’s sinless? Sword Venerable, I have always held you in deep respect, but it seems your affection for your disciple is clouding your judgment now.”

“There’s no concrete evidence that Yeongcheon committed all that slaughter!”

“The circumstantial evidence is ample. Since you seem blind to it, Sword Venerable, I’ll ask the others.”

He turned his head, looking in turn at the heads of the Five Great Families and the Nine Great Righteous Sects.

Not everyone was present, but enough were gathered to make a decision.

“Jegal Clan Leader. What say you?”

The Jegal Clan Leader nodded faintly from behind his fan.

He too acknowledged Yeongcheon as dangerous.

“Paeng Clan Leader.”

The North Hebei Paeng Clan Leader looked apologetically at the Sword Venerable.

“Moyong Clan Leader.”

He nodded as well.

“Namgung Cla— no, Young Lady.”

When it came Namgung Yeon’s turn, she clenched her fists tightly.

The Sword Venerable’s gaze was far from ordinary.

But her thoughts were...

“...I think he’s dangerous.”

She spat out the words as firmly and confidently as she could.

Satisfied with the answer, the Poison King questioned each of the Nine Great Righteous Sects leaders in the hall one by one.

Even Wudang Sect’s Sect Leader seemed to be placating the Sword Venerable.

“...Senior, this is...”

Unable to contain his rage, the Sword Venerable trembled, then clutched his forehead and sank into his chair.

No one provoked him further.

The Poison King soon awaited the Abbot’s decision.

Shaolin’s Abbot Beophae, who had been sitting with eyes closed, slowly opened them.

“...It’s too soon to make a choice.”

“Abbot...!!”

At those words, the Poison King grew even more indignant, while the Sword Venerable lifted his head as if seeing hope.

“Tang Clan Leader, I understand your anger. However, declaring a public enemy of murim means the entire murim world targets them. We cannot have the Alliance judge something the Sword Venerable has yet to accept first. What if that shakes our Alliance?”

“But...!!”

“However, if Yeongcheon commits something even you cannot tolerate, Sword Venerable.”

The Abbot’s eyes turned to the Sword Venerable. Namgung Yeon, watching, felt her breath catch at that sharp gaze.

“Then he truly will be a public enemy of murim. Isn’t that right? Taiji Sword Venerable.”

Jang Taesu averted his gaze from the Abbot’s benevolent eyes, as if feeling a faint shame.

And he answered.

“...If he commits something I cannot tolerate, then yes.”

The Abbot nodded once more.

“Tang Clan Leader. Let us watch a little longer. Who knows, Yeongcheon might return to the righteous path. For now, let’s take a break. Everyone must be hungry.”

.

.

.

In the Shaolin Temple grounds, under the shade of a pine swaying in the wind, Namgung Yeon gripped the hilt of her sword even tighter.

The memories of the conference hall wouldn’t leave her mind.

The sharp gazes exchanged between the Sword Venerable and Poison King, the Abbot and Clan Leaders, and Sect Leaders.

How cowed she had been by those gazes.

Yet Namgung Yeon bore the duty to become someone superior to the other Five Great Families’ leaders at minimum.

That was the mindset required of the Namgung Family heir.

Father might not have much time left.

Then she, the only child, would have to take his place... but with her current skills, she was far too lacking.

That anxiety flowed from her sword-gripping fingertips, as sweat, as sighs.

“Again.”

A cold voice came from the pine shade.

Namgung Yeon assumed her stance without complaint.

Sweat poured like rain, but the effort had to continue.

“...You have more stray thoughts than usual today.”

Mukryong whispered.

Namgung Yeon replied as if making an excuse.

“Looks like travel fatigue lingers.”

“That’s one reason they call you dullard. Once you grip the sword, you must cut away stray thoughts. If you can’t steady your mind in training, how will you in battle?”

“...”

Mukryong was a strict master.

Naturally, she wasn’t learning the Namgung Family sword arts from him, but he polished the experiences and fundamentals every murim warrior should possess.

Mukryong was a man who had learned martial arts through fateful encounters.

Not passed down from a sect, nor from a family manual, yet his movements held unusual proficiency.

He hadn’t learned unorthodox arts, but his movements were unorthodox.

Freer, relying on experience.

That was what Namgung Yeon needed.

Sometimes real combat experience. Sometimes pointers on things she didn’t know.

Only then could she comprehend the Namgung Family manuals handed down through generations.