Chapter 106
What is the duty of a fiancé?
If the couple were already married, it wouldn’t be a difficult question to answer.
To bear heirs, raise them well, and share the burden of the household’s affairs together with strength and unity.
It’s something everyone knows. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s easy to uphold.
In any case, for those already married, their duties are clear. But for an engaged couple, the answer becomes a bit more ambiguous.
They’ve promised to marry, but haven’t done so yet. Is there any real obligation between fiancés?
There may be much debate about this… but I believe, to some extent, there is.
A promise may be only a promise, but a promise carries weight.
Well, even if it weren’t for that, considering all that Tang Sowol has done for me and how much she’s considered my position,…it’s only natural that I’d want to do right by her.
“That’s why I put in a bit of effort.” “Please change.”
Tang Sowol shook her head without the slightest hesitation. So firm that even I, who rarely feels dejected, found myself a little downhearted.
Perhaps I’d spent too long with women whose emotions showed on their faces too easily.
Unconsciously, I almost pouted, but quickly pulled my lips back in—albeit a little too late.
“Tsseup. Lips back in, please.”
“Mmuph.”
Tang Sowol pressed my lips in with her palm. The warmth and softness of her hand, along with her familiar scent, filled my senses—mixed with a bit of dissatisfaction. And then...
Lick.
“Kyaak! Why would you stick your tongue out like that?! You could’ve just spoken!”
“You’re the one who covered my mouth so I couldn’t talk.”
“That’s... true.”
Nodding in understanding, Tang Sowol casually rubbed her now-moistened hand on my back.
I brushed it off and checked my attire again.
The Tang Clan’s distinctive green martial uniform. Not just any uniform, but a fairly high-quality one.
The kind of garment whose quality alone would suggest one’s status.
However, such clothing might work on commoners, but it holds little sway among martial artists.
Whether they have backing or not, martial artists are always prepared to cut—or be cut. That’s just how they live.
So, when trying to project intimidation through clothing among martial artists, a different approach is needed.
For example… a threatening presence, like someone who’s survived countless battlefields.
Back in my previous life, when I’d just reached the Peak Stage and earned the Blood Wolf sobriquet.
How many martial artists came looking for trouble once I started making a name for myself?
Those who wanted to defeat me to gain fame, those who wanted to make me submit, and even those who sensed my growing power and wanted to eliminate me preemptively.
It wasn’t until I had cut down countless unorthodox jackals that I realized—
They found it easier to pick a fight because I looked too young. Too soft. Too easy.
And so, after some trial and error, I found what worked—what became today’s appearance.
Ever since I adopted this battle-hardened aura, the number of provocations dropped dramatically.
I looked into Tang Sowol’s green-tinted eyes and saw the reflection of my current self.
Instead of wearing new clothes, I wore the uniform from my battle with the Black Sky Sword Emperor.
It was neat, but if one looked closely, their eyes would naturally be drawn to the sword marks on the collar and sleeves.
Evidence that I had dodged blades by a margin of less than an inch.
And then, there was the sword at my waist.
A black blade, already considered a fine weapon even when sheathed, radiating immense presence.
Though I had polished it until it gleamed like new, I’d wrapped the hilt in the worn leather of my previous sword handle.
Most wouldn’t notice it. But someone with sharp eyes—or someone already trying to judge me—would see it differently.
They’d think, “This is someone who values his sword, yet doesn’t hesitate to wield it.”
If the above was something I wanted others to notice on their own, what follows are things I needed to actively project.
The most important is one’s gaze.
A calm, unwavering gaze that seems unshakable in any situation. And a glance that sweeps others as if searching for weaknesses.
That alone gives a sharp impression—like I could cut them down at any moment.
But a gaze alone isn’t enough.
That’s where momentum comes in.
The Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art naturally blends in killing intent, and so my presence has become quite ferocious.
I didn’t plan to flaunt my power, but if used well, this aura could seize the entire room instantly.
Only after confirming my reflection in Tang Sowol’s eyes did I nod to myself.
“No matter how I look at it, this seems fine.”
“Eep!”
Perhaps because we were standing so close our breaths nearly touched, Tang Sowol blushed and turned away.
A moment later, she snuck glances at me and hesitantly spoke.
“W-Well. I think... you look very much like yourself right now. Cool, even. Kind of like when we first met...”
“If it looks fine, then isn’t it okay to go as is?”
“But for gatherings like this, dressing more modestly is usually...”
“If it’s fine, let’s just head out now.”
“Ugh, no... This isn’t right... really...”
For some reason, Tang Sowol looked conflicted. Her steps were slower than usual, and as a result, we ended up arriving a bit late.
***
This Dragon and Phoenix Meeting was being held at the Namgung Clan’s residence.
Surprisingly, the Namgung Clan had even gone so far as to purchase a villa in Wuhuan City, just so they could have a comfortable stay during the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, which only happened once every five years.
“The Tang Clan doesn’t have anything like this?”
“If we did, we wouldn’t be worrying about lodging. Honestly, among the Five Supreme Clans, the Namgung Clan is especially... excessive.”
Of course, it’s not like the Tang Clan or other families lack the money to buy a residence in Wuhuan City.
It simply isn’t worth the investment. Besides, there’s a general belief that the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering is meant to take the heirs out of their homes and into the wider world.
So why did the Namgung Clan go out of their way to build a mansion here?
Simple. Their family motto is to be the best, in everything, everywhere.
Maybe the arrogance of the Emperor Sword Form had etched itself into their family psyche.
Or maybe it’s the other way around—their ambition and pride led them to create a technique like the Emperor Sword Form.
Regardless, being second-best was never acceptable to them. So now, after winning, they were inviting everyone to their mansion in Wuhuan.
They probably thought even the best guesthouse wouldn’t meet their standards.
The Namgung Clan was also a family that often produced Dragon and Phoenix Gathering winners.
“Now that I think about it, is there a participation requirement for the Dragon and Phoenix Meeting? The Yeon Clan is coming, so it’s not limited to just the Five Supreme Clans and Nine Great Sects, right?”
“There isn’t. The meeting isn’t an official event—it began as a gathering for those who stayed behind after the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering. Just a chance to socialize before going back. But if there’s anything close to a condition... it’s the host’s invitation.”
“I see. That makes sense.”
So it didn’t have to be one of the Five Supreme Clans or Nine Great Sects. As long as someone was reputable—or showed promise—they could be invited.
As we walked, Tang Sowol repeatedly sighed, then glanced at me and smiled, only to sigh again. Before long, we arrived at the massive mansion.
It wasn’t quite on the level of the Tang Clan or the Zhongnan Sect, which were large enough to contain a small village within their grounds,
…but for a single residence, it was huge and extravagant.
A clear display of the Namgung Clan’s need to show off.
The Namgung martial artist at the gate narrowed his eyes as he spotted me and reached for the hilt at his waist.
“Who are you?! Some unorthodox scum dare show up at the great Nam—huh?”
Of course, that was before he saw Tang Sowol’s Tang Clan uniform and realized something was off.
He looked back and forth between me and Tang Sowol, then finally seemed to understand the situation and bowed.
“M-My apologies! I didn’t realize you were from the Tang Clan... I was—”
“Haaah.”
Tang Sowol closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she had a resigned, weary smile on her face.
“We’ll overlook that little slip. It was an understandable mistake.”
Even though she said it was fine, the gatekeeper still couldn’t lift his head.
Only after we passed through did he finally straighten his back.
Tang Sowol linked arms with me naturally and glanced back at the man.
“Oh, and for the record—‘young masters’ is incorrect.”
“Did I mess up again...?”
“This is my fiancé.”
“Ah.”
Grinning at the dumbfounded gatekeeper, Tang Sowol confidently stepped inside.
I whispered quietly to her.
“So you’ve finally realized how efficient this is.”
“Hardly. If I could, I’d make you change clothes right this moment.”
“If it bothered you that much, you should’ve said so before we left.”
“And who was it that leaned in so close and silenced me...?!”
Though Tang Sowol glared at me, her shoulders slumped soon after as if deflating.
“Ehuu... It’s too late now anyway. I’ll leave it to your method this time.”
“Don’t worry. Have I ever failed to meet your expectations?”
“If only you’d stop talking...”
She shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile.
Since I was already close to Sub-Perfection, the easiest way to assert presence was to casually release a bit of momentum.
Even if I held back my killing intent, the aura produced by combining my current level with my past-life experience would be hard to handle for most young elites.
Of course, I wouldn’t go that far. Tang Sowol wouldn’t like it if I were too blatant.
So I’d just let it leak... subtly.
As we entered, we saw that many of the young martial artists had already arrived and were enjoying the banquet.
The moment we stepped in, all eyes turned to us.
Probably because we arrived a little late.
Feeling the weight of those stares—or perhaps simply nervous being in such a setting for the first time in a while—Tang Sowol tightened her grip on my arm.
I stayed close to her, slowly surveying the room and subtly raised my momentum.
At once, expressions across the room stiffened.
The exceptions were martial artists from the Zhongnan Sect I was acquainted with, Tang Sowol’s friend Wei Ji-Su-Lian, and the host himself—Namgung Jong.
I figured this much was enough to show proper decorum, and I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction.
Pinch.
Tang Sowol pinched my side. Then, quietly mouthed a whisper into my ear.
— Withdraw your aura immediately.
I promptly reined in my presence, feeling a bit sullen.
...She caught me.