Chapter 58: Forced Choice (4)

Chirp. Chirp.

Night insects sang in the rear garden.

Namgung Il-jun waited in an octagonal pavilion built within the meticulously landscaped garden.

“After this hour, do not let anyone in,” he instructed his servants, having laid out a feast of delicacies. He then called for Namgung Yong-ho.

“What are you doing?”

“He’s just meditating, what else?”

“Meditating…”

He was honestly impressed.

His nephew, who had once been too timid to even meet his eyes, was now practicing self-control.

‘It’s a shame, but it can’t be helped.’

It would have been better for both of them if Namgung Yun-ho had shown his talent earlier.

As he was putting aside his regrets, Namgung Yun-ho appeared on the path leading from the annex.

He had grown tall and strong, his posture like a sturdy pillar, his Qi refined and controlled. It was a sight that surprised him.

His nephew’s dignified appearance left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’re here.”

He gestured for Namgung Yun-ho to take a seat in the pavilion, then asked, “Have you made up your mind?”

“Not yet.”

“You insolent…”

He grumbled, but he wasn’t as angry as before.

The decision had already been made, and his nephew’s calm demeanor had calmed him down somewhat.

But he still maintained a stern facade. He had to separate personal feelings from business.

“So, it seems your instructor isn’t coming.”

“I’m not sure. He’s lazy, but he’s not unreliable.”

“Hmph, he must be afraid of the Namgung Clan.”

“If he were that easy to understand, I wouldn’t be in this situation.”

He was curious.

“You seem to trust him quite a bit.”

“I don’t always trust myself, but I trust my instructor.”

“Tsk, why would you trust a mere Dongcheon Hall instructor?”

He couldn’t understand his nephew’s faith in the man.

Dongcheon Hall was considered a playground, the lowest level training ground in the Shinmu Academy.

A new instructor from that place couldn’t possibly be that skilled.

It was unusual that he had been recommended by the Beggars’ Sect, but that was all.

He couldn’t fathom why his nephew would defy the clan for this man.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

“He’s not coming.”

“Is that so?”

“He must have gotten lost or had an accident on the way here.”

He pointed to an hourglass on the table.

“You have five minutes left.”

“Five minutes is a long time.”

It seemed he needed more time to convince his nephew to give up.

Namgung Yong-ho interjected, “Brother, why are you waiting for your instructor? Do you think he’s some kind of brilliant strategist who can give you a secret plan?”

Namgung Yong-ho, who firmly believed in the simple but undeniable truth that the Namgung Clan’s will was absolute, couldn’t understand why his brother would risk his uncle’s wrath for a mere conversation with his instructor.

Namgung Yun-ho answered readily.

“I don’t need a secret plan. He’s not a strategist.”

“Then what do you want to ask him?”

“I want to ask him…”

He paused, then smiled as he looked at the hourglass.

Namgung Il-jun, who had been watching the sand trickle down, tilted his head in confusion.

“That’s strange. Why isn’t the sand falling?”

“Have you arrived?”

“Yes.”

Namgung Il-jun turned around and was startled.

A man in a carelessly worn uniform was standing there, his arms crossed, a casual smirk on his face.

‘When did he get here?’

He had specifically instructed his servants not to let anyone in.

“Wow, having a feast in the middle of the night? This is what I call living the good life.”

“The food looks delicious. Why don’t you join us?”

“If you insist.”

Cho Un-hwi sauntered into the pavilion, plopped down on a cushion, and started grabbing food without even bothering to greet them.

“Instructor Cho, how did you get in?”

“The gate was open.”

“Wasn’t it difficult to find this place?”

“It was a bit of a hassle. There was a lot of commotion outside. Emergency whistles and all that.”

It had been quite noisy outside. He was lucky to have made it here.

While Namgung Il-jun was trying to figure out what was going on, Cho Un-hwi asked, his mouth full of food, “So, why did you call me? What a pain.”

“I have a question for you.”

“Why? Just live your life and die. Nom nom.”

“I’ve already decided how I’m going to die. My question is about something else.”

“What is it?”

“How many moves ahead do I need to be?”

Cho Un-hwi’s hand, which had been reaching for another piece of meat, froze.

He grinned.

“Hehe, that’s what you wanted to ask? I’ll tell you. But haven’t you figured it out already?”

Namgung Yong-ho was annoyed by their nonsensical conversation.

He was used to being the center of attention, and he had never been ignored like this before.

“You must be Instructor Cho. I’ve heard a lot about you from my brother. I’m Namgung Yong-ho, known to the world as the Little Sword Dragon.”

He bowed and introduced himself, but Cho Un-hwi just stared at him blankly.

The rude visitor then whispered to his brother, “What’s with that brat’s attitude? It’s pissing me off. Three moves ahead.”

“Three moves?”

“You always have to teach those punks with a bad attitude a lesson.”

“I’ll need a half-move advantage.”

Namgung Yong-ho was disgusted by both of them. His brother was whispering and giggling like an idiot, and the instructor was lounging around with his legs crossed, acting like he owned the place.

He had never been treated like this before.

Namgung Il-jun roared, “Instructor Cho! How dare you be so disrespectful?!”

His voice, amplified by his internal energy, startled Cho Un-hwi, who had been stuffing his face with food.

Cho Un-hwi covered his mouth with his hand and whispered, “Wow, it’s nice to have a big house. If I had yelled like that in my room, my neighbors would be banging on the walls.”

“Noise pollution is a serious problem.”

“In my case, it’s not just the noise. The walls are so thin that you can hear everything.”

Were they ignoring him?

As he was trying to control his anger, Cho Un-hwi picked up a bottle of wine.

“Haha, it’s fate that we’ve met again. Let’s have a drink.”

“I’m not in the mood for drinks. You first…”

“Doesn’t the Namgung Clan have any gifts?”

“What? Gifts?”

“The Jegal Clan, the Baek Ri Clan, and the Mo Yong Clan all gave me generous gifts.”

You’re so stingy.

Namgung Il-jun was speechless.

‘Wait a minute…’

He remembered something.

‘Both the Baek Ri Clan and the Mo Yong Clan’s children were quite friendly with him.’

He felt a pang of unease.

Was the Namgung Clan the only one treating him poorly? He couldn’t let them think he was stingy, especially after what had happened with Yeom-gwang.

“Ahem, I’ll make sure you’re properly compensated.”

“The other clans gave me gold. I’m not interested in measly silver.”

This greedy instructor!

Namgung Il-jun gritted his teeth and said, “I’ll make sure you’re well-compensated.”

“I appreciate it. I’ve made a fortune. But it would be a shame to end things like this.”

What was he going to say now?

Cho Un-hwi made a circle with his thumb and forefinger and grinned.

“Let’s make a bet.”

***

“This is ridiculous,” Namgung Yong-ho muttered, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

“I have to spar with my brother?”

“…”

Unlike Namgung Yong-ho, who was complaining incessantly, Namgung Yun-ho calmly removed his outer robe and began to stretch.

His movements were fluid and graceful, almost reverent.

Namgung Yong-ho was incredulous.

“Brother, are you serious?”

“Why not?”

“Honestly…”

This was humiliating.

Namgung Yong-ho was well aware of his own talent.

He was confident that no one in Euncheon Hall could match him, and now he had to spar with his brother, who had always been the laughingstock of the clan? Not only was the outcome obvious, but he didn’t want to hurt his brother too badly.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry for underestimating you. Let’s just stop.”

But Namgung Yun-ho drew his sword.

Namgung Yong-ho’s expression hardened.

“I’m trying to be nice here. Are you really going to do this?”

Namgung Yun-ho, his expression impassive, raised his sword.

Namgung Yong-ho drew his sword with lightning speed.

“Fine.”

He charged at his brother, a cloud of dust rising around him.

***

“A spar? Is this really necessary?” Namgung Il-jun asked, watching the two brothers face off.

“Nom nom.”

Cho Un-hwi was still stuffing his face.

Namgung Il-jun frowned.

“There’s no need to humiliate him like this.”

He was actually quite pleased with the situation. Cho Un-hwi’s request was absurd, but it was a perfect opportunity to make his nephew give up.

But he was a little concerned by Cho Un-hwi’s demeanor.

“Nom nom.”

He was eating and drinking with a nonchalant air, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I won’t forget this.”

“Hehe, you won’t be able to.”

The sound of clashing swords echoed through the garden.

Namgung Il-jun clicked his tongue.

“He can’t even handle Yong-ho’s sword aura.”

“His internal energy is weak.”

“Of course. He’s been training hard, but he can’t compare to Yong-ho, who has mastered a superior cultivation technique and has been taking elixirs.”

Ten moves passed in an instant.

Namgung Il-jun was surprised by Namgung Yun-ho’s resilience.

‘He’s lasted ten moves? He must have been training his internal energy diligently.’

It was impressive that he had been able to withstand ten moves without having mastered a superior cultivation technique or swordsmanship.

‘Well, maybe Yong-ho is going easy on him…’

But thirty moves passed, then fifty.

Namgung Il-jun’s jaw dropped.

“H-how…?”

Namgung Yun-ho, who had been struggling to defend himself, was starting to straighten his back.

His footwork, which had been unsteady, was becoming more stable, and his sword movements were becoming faster.

He had gone from barely defending himself to launching attacks.

His transformation was so rapid that it was as if a master swordsman was finally revealing his true skills.

And the transformation wasn’t over yet.

**Clang!**

“Ugh!”

Namgung Yun-ho’s attacks were so precise and relentless that Namgung Yong-ho couldn’t even complete his moves.

**Clang! Clang!**

His attacks were being interrupted before they could even begin.

It could only mean one thing.

“He’s reading Yong-ho’s movements?”

No, he was doing more than that.

“He’s predicting Yong-ho’s next move and intercepting it!”

It was unbelievable.

And then, he noticed something else.

The tip of Namgung Yun-ho’s sword was vibrating constantly as he slashed and stabbed.

His swordsmanship was reminiscent of the Imperial Sword Style, the Namgung Clan’s secret technique.

‘The Ghost of Dongcheon Hall…’

‘Has he become a Sword Demon?’

Namgung Il-jun’s eyes widened in shock.