Chapter 149
The Namgung Clan was the current era’s Supreme Clan Under Heaven.
No one could deny this.
Not only was their raw power immense, but the name itself—Supreme Clan Under Heaven—drew all manner of people and resources toward them.
That talent and wealth constantly circulated around the Namgung Clan was, in a way, only natural.
Tang Sowol, who said all this, smiled softly and spoke.
“So, don’t worry. Even if it takes a bit of time, they’ll send it eventually. It’s just that, right now, there are too many things that need to be handled immediately.”
“You make it sound like they owe us a debt.”
“Eh? Surely the Sword King wouldn’t just turn his back and pretend none of this happened, right? You don’t need to worry.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about. Maybe it’s a kind of prejudice... but orthodox martial artists usually act all humble at times like this, saying they’ve only done their duty as people.”
“Oh, and after that, were you expecting some kind of back-and-forth bargaining, both sides pretending and negotiating with roundabout words?” “Something like that? It’s a bit different from what happened with Clan Leader Paeng and Clan Leader Eon.”
Back then, I’d already given notice to Paeng Woojin and Yeon Gahye. Everyone understood the situation, so it was natural to get straight to the point.
Tang Sowol nodded, seeming to understand.
“Usually, it goes just like you said. Maybe not for someone in logistics, like a branch head, but for someone at the top—like a clan head or sect leader—they’re always conscious of how they appear to others.”
“Then why...?”
“Because our Tang Clan isn’t exactly ‘usual,’ is it?”
For a moment, I was speechless, but thinking it over—it was true.
The Tang Clan was sensitive to debts. Whether they gave or received.
Grace and resentment alike were debts of the heart.
In other words, you could say that the Tang Clan’s family tradition was to leave no debts of the heart behind.
Meanwhile, the Namgung Clan simply seemed to dislike paying attention to anything outside of the sword.
You could call it a mutual understanding, in a way.
“That’s a relief. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if this was okay... so I was a little anxious.”
“Whaaat?! Are you saying you were thinking about our reputation, Brother Cheon?!”
Tang Sowol looked at me like she’d just seen a raccoon writing calligraphy.
Why are you so surprised?
“Well... You’re the kind of person who shows up to the Dragon and Phoenix Assembly looking like you’re ready to fight someone, talks informally to enemies regardless of their status, and then draws your sword mid-conversation.”
“Okay, all of that is technically true, but saying it like that makes me sound like some kind of brute.”
Everything I did had a reason.
While I was sighing at the ridiculous slander, Tang Sowol covered her mouth with a lightly clenched fist and giggled.
“Well, even if I was joking, I was a little surprised. I don’t think you’re the kind of person who would do anything for gain, but... I thought you were someone who valued honesty more than appearances.”
“You’re not wrong. But there’s one thing you’re misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?”
“I am someone who becomes honest in front of gain. But Tang Sowol, you’re more precious to me than gold—so isn’t it natural that I’d care?”
“Oh my...”
Tang Sowol’s emerald eyes widened. She stared at me for a long time before narrowing her gaze and starting to circle around me.
Once she had gone around three times, I couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck.
“Kyaa!”
Her scream had a hint of amusement. I let it pass through one ear and out the other and asked,
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What else? Lately, unless I cling to you first, you barely pay me any attention. And now you suddenly say something sweet, so I had to check if you ate something weird... or if you’re some impostor in disguise.”
“Isn’t that an unfairly harsh evaluation of me?”
“Well, you haven’t really done anything to raise your evaluation, have you?”
At her words, I thought back over the past few months.
Aside from a few idle moments together, I hadn’t really taken any time to be with her.
Training, fighting, more training, and getting wrapped up in one incident after another.
That was all I’d been doing. Realizing it again, even I started to feel a bit frustrated.
It wasn’t like I had no desire for martial prowess—but more than that, I also wanted to live well with my people.
“If so, how about this—after I finish the sparring session with the Sword King, let’s stop by a few places on our way back to the Tang Clan.”
“A few places? Where exactly are you thinking?”
“Mm.”
I flipped through the mental map in my head before nodding.
“Last time, we passed through Hubei on the way to the Murim Alliance. So this time, why don’t we take a little detour and stop by Henan?”
“Henan?”
“Yeah. If we’re lucky, we might even get a glimpse of Shaolin Temple.”
“You do know Shaolin is a restricted zone for women, right?”
“Of course I know. I’m not saying we go to the main temple, just that we visit the parts open to pilgrims.”
“Hmm. That’s not a bad idea, but...?”
Tang Sowol lightly grabbed my side—not painfully, but in a way that said she could pinch me at any time—and gave me a sidelong glance.
“Let’s be a bit more honest, shall we?”
“Well, we visited the Taoist sects when we went to Zhongnan Mountain. Now I’m curious about what the Buddhist sects are like.”
Haah. Well, it should be fine. It’s not like we’re the only ones having fun—this seems like a fair balance.
“Alright then. We’ll go through Henan on our way back.”
Tang Sowol gave a wry smile and nodded, as if she had no choice.
Instead of removing the hand from my side, she started poking at my stomach.
“Ahem. By the way, the elixir Clan Leader Paeng gave you must’ve worked well.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“I mean... the way your abs have gotten more defined and firmer—wait, what are you making me say?!”
Smack!
Tang Sowol suddenly smacked me in the chest. It didn’t hurt. I was just dumbfounded.
“You’re the one who brought it up, and now you’re blaming me? And wait—have you been checking out my external training progress? How would you even notice the difference—?”
“Ahhh! I can’t hear anything anymore!”
She clamped her hands over her ears and shrieked.
Her eyes snapped open.
“Brother Cheon! You didn’t hear anything I just said, right?!”
Her desperation was clear. Taking that into account, I chose my words carefully before replying.
“How lewd.”
“Hiiiaaaack!”
Tang Sowol collapsed with a wail. She had brought it on herself.
She crouched down in the middle of the path, trembling. I crouched next to her and poked her in the side.
It was soft.
“Hmm... not sure.”
“Where do you think you’re touching?!”
“Same as you did to me. You checked my stomach, so I did the same. ...Now we’re even. Let’s call it off, shall we?”
“,,.”
Her expression softened, as if realizing I was trying to ease the awkwardness.
Still sitting on the ground, she leaned her head on her arm.
Her soft cheek was pressed against her forearm, making it puff slightly to the side.
For the same reason, my gaze kept being drawn to the chest that bulged slightly under her knees—but I managed to resist.
Then came her teasing voice.
“Heheh. Brother Cheon, now you’re an accomplice too.”
“You could say that.”
Our eyes met, and we both burst into laughter.
After giggling for a while, Tang Sowol finally stood up.
“Alrighty. Anyway, I like your plan, Brother Cheon. If you promise not to stick your nose into any unnecessary trouble this time.”
“I promise. Honestly, I’m getting a little tired of constantly getting caught up in all this.”
“Good! Then I’ll go tell Hyang and Sister Hwarin. Oh, and I’ll also tell them not to gather in your room tonight.”
“Don’t treat gathering in my room every night like it’s some natural law.”
I chuckled and shook my head as we parted ways.
***
How long had I been holed up in my room, sharpening my focus?
Before I knew it, the setting sun had completely vanished beyond the ridgeline, and a soft, gentle moonlight now bathed the sky.
My senses had grown sharp—heightened from repeatedly recalling the sensation of embedding willpower into my sword. Maintaining that focus, I made my way toward the training hall that Namgung Dowi had mentioned.
Had he given advance notice?
A martial artist in a deep navy uniform greeted me as if he had been waiting. Judging by the intensity of his presence—reaching the very edge of the Peak Stage—he was clearly no ordinary warrior. Likely, he held a considerable position within one of the Namgung Clan’s martial units.
The fact that such a master, not a mere servant, had come to guide me meant only one thing—this training hall I was heading to was no place an outsider could enter casually.
I was being led far, far beyond the areas allowed for guests, into the very heart of the Namgung Clan.
There, lit by dozens of lanterns, was a training ground that shone as brightly as day even in the night.
Its exterior appeared old and weathered. But the moment I stepped inside, I understood why the Namgung Clan had left such a decrepit place untouched, why it was kept so tightly hidden.
Sword marks.
Countless sword strikes were etched into the floor and walls of the training hall.
Some bore the traces of fairly basic forms, while others contained mysteries that couldn’t be matched even by advanced martial arts techniques.
But what drew my gaze more than anything was the man standing at the center of it all.
A middle-aged figure radiating a presence sharper than any famed blade.
His back—like a sword given human form—I called out to him softly.
“Sword King, sir.”
“You’ve come.”
The martial artist who bore the essence of every sword within this hall turned to face me.