Chapter 28. Sword Demon: Dispute Arises

‘Ho-yeon!’

Jeongal Ah-hyeon’s face brightened the moment she saw Namgung Ho-yeon.

As soon as he stepped into the pavilion, the oppressive emotional influence was cut off.

The chaotic whisperings of negativity quieted down, and in that stillness, she regained her composure.

‘…Huh?’

But before long, confusion overtook her once again.

She’d heard that since arriving at the Murong household, Ho-yeon had kept to himself, avoiding other successors.

She should be the only familiar face here.

Naturally, she kept watching him, expecting their eyes to meet.

But he didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he walked straight over to a young boy.

‘What… the?’

As Jeongal Ah-hyeon furrowed her brow, a chilling voice came from beside her.

“He was the culprit?”

“Excuse me?”

She turned to find Murong Cheol glancing at her as he continued,

“Oh, I mean the cat.”

“The cat…?”

“That gray one. My youngest brother dotes on it, but it disappeared yesterday. We’ve been looking for it.”

At Murong Cheol’s words, a nearby man with a horse-like face, pouring his own drink, chuckled and said,

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“Sanwol.”

“Heh. I’ll go over and explain. The Namgung boy may have made a mistake.”

“W-Wait! Ho-yeon would never do such a thing!”

“…Ho-yeon?”

Murong Cheol’s brows furrowed at her urgent defense.

‘They came together, sure. But the engagement between Namgung and Jeongal should’ve been annulled, no?’

Then why was Jeongal Ah-hyeon calling Namgung Ho-yeon so familiarly?

Sensing his unease, Danli Sanwol grinned and said,

“The young lad probably doesn’t know better. I’ll handle it gently.”

“Please do.”

“…”

Murong Cheol gave a tight nod. Jeongal Ah-hyeon’s face turned pale.

But her worry wasn’t about Murong Cheol’s mood.

‘Ho-yeon…! Please hold back. It’s only the first day of the Hundred Families Sword Tournament!’

“Namgung Ho-yeon!”

“You’re looking sharp.”

Ho-yeon approached the shaggy-haired boy and looked him up and down.

Now free of dirt and ragged clothes, the boy’s skin was startlingly pale—almost unnaturally so.

“A swan among black crows, eh?”

“Ah…”

The boy tugged on his sleeve, trying to hide his skin.

Ho-yeon gave a small laugh.

“It’s a compliment. You look like a cloud.”

“…”

“Anyway, who are you?”

Sitting down beside him, Ho-yeon asked.

The boy clasped his hands in a respectful martial greeting.

“Apologies for the late introduction. I am the Fourth Young Master of the Murong family, Murong Yul.”

Ho-yeon scratched his messy hair.

He had guessed it from the chrysanthemum emblem on the boy’s white martial uniform—but still.

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you. I’m Namgung Ho-yeon.”

“Please speak casually. You’re older than me, after all.”

“Sure.”

Ho-yeon relaxed his formal tone immediately.

‘So he’s the Fourth Young Master…’

He picked up a pair of chopsticks and casually stole a rolled bean pastry from a nearby table.

It was white, soft on the outside, and sweet inside—a type of elegant tea snack.

“Mmm, good stuff.”

“You like those?”

“I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

“Then try these candied kumquats. Don’t like sour things?”

Yul quickly fetched a plate of candied kumquats and set it before him.

Ho-yeon shrugged and popped one in his mouth.

“I like sour too. Mmm, though it’s not quite as good as Uncle Pil’s stuff.”

“Uncle Pil? What’s that?”

“He runs a sweets shop. I’m helping him with the business.”

“Wow…”

Murong Yul’s blue eyes sparkled with admiration.

“I want to try it someday!”

“You’d have to go to Dangdangdang in Hefei, Anhui for that.”

“Anhui… Hefei… Dangdangdang…”

Ho-yeon watched the boy wiggle his fingers as if memorizing the name and thought,

‘Ah-hyeon said there were four candidates for the successor. And the Fourth Young Master…’

“Lastly, there’s no chance Murong Yul will become the heir. He’s the one stain on the current Murong head’s reputation.”

The memory from the carriage came back to him.

‘An illegitimate child, huh?’

It was obvious.

Murong Mukyeol, the head of the Murong family, had spent a night with a woman from Arasa. Yul, born of that encounter, became a disgrace to the family.

With no maternal family to back him, Murong Yul must have grown up without support.

‘I heard they’re planning to strip him of his title during this tournament. Or maybe…’

Ho-yeon’s gaze on Yul grew solemn.

Just then—

“Nice to meet you. I am Danli Sanwol. Heh heh.”

A slimy voice came from behind.

‘So that’s Namgung Ho-yeon. Rumors didn’t do him justice.’

Danli Sanwol watched him carefully.

The Danli clan had two famous sub-factions:

The Ten Heavens Sword Corps and the Black Five Corps.

The Black Five specialized in intelligence and formations—a renowned espionage unit in the martial world.

‘He’s already famous in Hefei? Daring to be called a “Divine Dragon”?’

Sanwol sneered.

The title “Divine Dragon” wasn’t given lightly.

It was reserved for rising stars expected to become peerless masters in the future.

Even winning the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament didn’t guarantee it.

But some kid not even of age?

‘And what? Successor of the Namgung? As if that’s going to happen.’

Since the Namgung family had fallen to the bottom of the Ten Great Clans, many had bared their fangs to take their place.

Danli clan was one of them.

And they weren’t just sharpening fangs—they were grinding claws too.

‘Our main house is practically neighbors with Namgung. They may have ruled Anhui so far, but that ends now!’

Located in Buyang, Anhui, the Danli clan once enjoyed royal favor during the Tang and Song dynasties.

Though noble in lineage, they hated always being ranked below the Namgung.

‘We’ll crush Namgung and take their place among the Ten. The martial world will recognize us as rulers of Anhui!’

That’s why Danli Sanwol needed to shatter Namgung Ho-yeon’s reputation.

“That gray cat—you stole it.”

“You mean Rice Cake?”

“Already gave it a nickname? Hah! Clearly still a child. The cat’s owner is desperately looking for it. Return it now.”

He spoke sternly, drawing attention from nearby successors.

‘Who’s this carrot-looking guy?’

Ho-yeon looked the man up and down, unimpressed.

‘I came late to avoid this exact nonsense. Looks like the same old idiots as always.’

The eternal law of the martial world: one fool dies, another takes their place.

“Didn’t you hear me? Return the cat and apologize!”

Danli Sanwol pressed forward, thinking Ho-yeon was flustered.

“W-Wait!”

Murong Yul quickly stepped up, scooping the gray cat from Ho-yeon’s shoulder into his arms.

“I-I’m the owner. I just asked Lord Namgung to look after her.”

“…What?”

Sanwol frowned at him.

White martial robes embroidered with chrysanthemums—the symbol of Murong direct lineage.

Though partly hidden by long bangs, there was no mistaking those blue eyes.

He grinned coldly.

‘Foolish illegitimate brat. Should’ve announced your status first!’

The title of Fourth Young Master was both shield and curse for someone like Yul.

If he couldn’t use it properly, Sanwol would teach him the consequences.

This could be chalked up as a drunken misunderstanding.

“A lowly servant dares interrupt? This isn’t a place for your kind!”

“Ah…!”

“Get lost! Don’t taint the air with those filthy blue eyes!”

Yul, already pale, turned ghostly white.

“Ah… aaah…”

Thump.

As he staggered back and bumped into something, he flinched and apologized.

“S-Sorry…”

“You little bastard.”

“…?!”

“What did you just say?”

Yul gasped at the breath against his neck. Sanwol stared, stunned by the curse.

“N-Namgung Ho-yeon!”

Yul spun around, hoping to stop him.

But he froze.

Wuuuung—

Ho-yeon’s eyes glowed sky-blue—like the heavens.

“Did you just insult the Azure Heaven of the Namgung?”

“W-What? When did I—?”

“You just told me to lower my blue eyes.”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Sanwol panicked.

He’d wanted to provoke Ho-yeon—not insult his clan!

“I see. You’re challenging me to a duel to the death.”

“…”

“State your clan and name.”

Faced with Ho-yeon’s serious tone, Sanwol hesitated.

This was spiraling beyond a simple bar quarrel.

‘Damn… I should back down…’

Just then, a whisper reached him through a sound-transmission technique.

『Sanwol. Push forward.』

‘…What?’

『Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. What, afraid of that brat?』

‘Of course not!’

『Crush him, and you’ll be the star of this tournament. I’ll make you our vanguard.』

Sanwol’s eyes lit up at Murong Cheol’s secret message.

A washed-up heir versus the Second Son of a top-tier clan?

The answer was clear.

“I am Danli Sanwol, Third Young Master of the Danli Clan. I didn’t mean to insult you, but if it came off that way—so be it.”

“Must be from some backwater. Did no one teach you manners?”

“W-What?!”

“You talk like I’m the one at fault, you carrot-faced idiot.”

“Y-You—!”

Sanwol’s face turned crimson.

Ho-yeon smirked.

“Oops. My bad. Not a carrot. A radish.”

“You dare insult the Great Danli Clan?!”

“Now who’s talking nonsense? You started the trash talk.”

“How dare you!”

“Whatever. If you’re mad, then come at me. What kind of martial artist fights with words like a chattering sparrow?”

Ho-yeon smiled calmly. Sanwol’s eyes burned with rage.

“…You’ll regret this.”

“Not even in your next life.”

“Draw your sword. I’ll give you three free moves as your senior.”

“Heh.”

Ho-yeon laughed, amused.

“Want to make a bet?”

“A bet?”

“You get three free strikes. And I’ll use this.”

Click!

He held up a pair of chopsticks.

Sanwol’s face flushed again.

“If you can land a single scratch on me, you win.”

“Why you—!”

“And if you win, I’ll give you this.”

Shhhhk!

Ho-yeon drew his sword.

Everyone’s eyes widened in awe at its elegant form.

“Wow…”

“A legendary blade!”

“Wait—is that the Thundercry Sword?!”

“The Thundercry Sword? That’s Namgung’s sacred heirloom! Why does he have it?!”

Murmurs spread among the successors.

“Thundercry Sword?”

Sanwol, who’d been burning with anger, suddenly felt like cold water had been poured over his head.

The Thundercry Sword was the famed blade of the Namgung clan.

It was once the cherished sword of the Skyblue Sword Lord and the very weapon that slew the Sword Demon 300 years ago.

“Is it real?”

He asked greedily.

Ho-yeon nodded.

“A man’s word is worth a thousand gold. What will you wager?”

“…This.”

Sanwol pulled out a dagger adorned with a ruby-red gem on the hilt.

“Moonshadow Crimson. One of the Danli Clan’s treasures.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m going to win anyway.”

“You said you’d give me three moves.”

Shik!

Sanwol lowered his stance, ignoring the judging stares around him.

‘Shame is fleeting. Treasure is eternal.’

Being offered three moves by someone ten years younger was humiliating.

But for the Thundercry Sword? Worth it.

“And don’t forget the chopsticks.”

“…Then here I come.”

Whoosh!

Sanwol dashed forward with Flying Stream Steps.

Ho-yeon simply smiled and raised his chopsticks to meet him.

Clack! Clack!

“Bon appétit.”