Chapter 262

Thunder Dragon Sword King Namgung Myeong.

One of the Five Kings Under Heaven, and the head of one of the Five Great Clans.

If you named the strongest swordmasters known in the Central Plain, he was «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» the kind of man who always made the list—one of those figures who’d been called a genius since childhood.

He was a striking, handsome man in his prime: thick white hair, razor-sharp features.

One look and you could tell exactly who Little Azure Sword and Thunder Dragon took after.

He was known to be cold, calm, and rational—an annoyingly difficult man to deal with because he didn’t let emotions sway him.

“...How dare you... how dare you disregard the Namgung Clan!”

Right now, though, he didn’t match the rumor.

His face was flushed red. His brow was knotted. Anger carved deep lines into his expression.

Even his voice was loaded with raw fury—nothing about him looked rational.

His sudden entrance pulled everyone’s eyes, but Namgung Myeong didn’t care. He kept stomping forward.

And as he closed in on Thousand-Mile True Sight—

“Sword King! Stop!”

The martial artists inside hurried over and blocked his path.

“You cannot approach any further. Please leave.”

“The conference is in progress. You cannot cause a disturbance here.”

“What...?”

Namgung Myeong’s eyes flashed.

RUMBLE—!!

“Kuh—!?”

“Kagh!!”

Thunder-qi burst from him and shook the entire space. A vast, crushing momentum. The calm air in the chamber churned violently, like it had been kicked into a storm.

‘Whoa...’

I swallowed hard.

The overwhelming pressure of an absolute master—meeting it head-on made the gap feel impossibly high.

“You’re blocking me...?”

Sword King’s rage flared at the fact they’d dared stand in his way, and he poured out even more pressure.

The martial artists holding the line wavered under it.

“I am Namgung Myeong, Sword King and head of the Namgung Clan. Do you truly believe it’s right to bar me from a conference like this!”

With that roar, the martial artists finally buckled.

And—

“Oh?”

Blade Absolute and the White King watched with open interest. They didn’t look remotely inclined to intervene, even if people died.

The moment the martial artists collapsed and Sword King moved to advance again—

“If you come any closer, it can’t be taken back.”

Thousand-Mile True Sight spoke calmly.

Namgung Myeong stopped dead.

He glared at Jegal Jin with eyes like drawn blades.

“Can’t be taken back? Ha, Thousand-Mile True Sight. Is this the Alliance’s will?”

GRIT.

A harsh sound ground out from between his clenched teeth.

“I heard there would be a Righteous Guidance Conference—so why was the Namgung Clan excluded? Are you trying to make an enemy of my family?”

“As if. Why would the Martial Alliance make an enemy of the Namgung Clan.”

“Then—!”

“But.”

Before Namgung Myeong could continue, Thousand-Mile True Sight cut him off.

“It’s possible the opposite is true—that the Namgung Clan intends to make an enemy of the Martial Alliance. That’s why confirmation was necessary.”

“Ha...? What did you just say?”

Not the Alliance making an enemy of Namgung.

Namgung making an enemy of the Martial Alliance.

Namgung Myeong’s brow tightened—

But then—

“Isn’t that right? You’re the clan head. You can’t claim you’re unaware of what your child has done this time.”

“......”

The moment he brought up Little Azure Sword, Namgung Myeong’s eyes wavered.

“Little Azure Sword is imprisoned after showing a point of contact with the DEMON CULT. The investigation isn’t even finished, and you think it makes sense for us to invite you to this conference? You can’t be that blind.”

“...My son would never do that. This is all a false accusation.”

“Ha.”

Thousand-Mile True Sight sighed.

At the sound of that quiet breath, the martial artists tensed—over a single exhale.

“Given the situation, I have no intention of entertaining pathetic insistence.”

“Pathetic...? What is lacking in my son that he’d throw himself into the DEMON CULT! If this isn’t a false accusation, then what is!”

“It might feel that way to you. But that’s not proof. That’s delusion.”

Thousand-Mile True Sight’s face hardened.

Contempt sat plainly in his eyes.

“And why would we believe delusion?”

“......”

“Investigation exists because we decide to believe only after we verify. And in a situation like this, the fact you were allowed to walk in here at all is consideration. If not for your name and your clan’s prestige, do you truly think you’d be standing in front of me right now?”

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

The tongue-click echoed through the chamber.

“Have some dignity, Sword King. At the moment, you look unbearably small.”

“...You—!”

Sword King ground his teeth.

And like he couldn’t take it anymore, his hand moved toward the sword at his waist—

In that instant—

CLANG—!! CLANG—!!

All around, hands went to hilts.

Blade Absolute and the White King prepared to draw as well, their blades sliding halfway out.

Absolute masters, all of them, readying themselves—

And then—

TAP—!

A single, tiny footstep bloomed in the gap between breaths.

‘Huh?’

My Moon Eyes flared on their own.

Moon-Spirit Sword Path unfurled.

A path of moonlight stretching without end—

And at the end of that path, someone was already in front of Sword King.

‘...When—?’

A man was there where no one had been.

I’d heard the landing, but the movement didn’t match the sound at all—like the body had arrived first and the noise was only catching up afterward.

CLANG... TAP.

“......!”

Sword King couldn’t draw.

The man in front of him had gripped the end of the hilt, stopping it cold.

“...You—”

Sword King’s eyes shook as he recognized him.

“Namgung Myeong.”

That voice was cold.

It went straight through me.

My skin crawled.

I stared down at my fingertips.

They were trembling.

“Don’t make the wrong choice.”

Moon-Thread Sword Cheon Seonghwa.

He stood before Namgung Myeong, blocking him.

“...You...”

Even with the warning, Namgung Myeong tried to pull his sword free—but it wouldn’t move.

RUMBLE—!!

Thunder-qi surged again in resistance.

But—

“Mmph.”

Cheon Seonghwa exhaled softly and moved his hand.

He caught the thunder-qi Namgung Myeong was unleashing—

CRACK. CRACK—!!

“......!”

“Huh...!”

—and tore it apart with his bare hand.

“What...?”

Namgung Myeong flinched at the sight of his own thunder-qi getting ripped to pieces.

Cheon Seonghwa’s expression didn’t change.

“Namgung Myeong.”

He swept the remaining thunder-qi aside like it was dust, then looked at him again.

“This is the Martial Alliance.”

A simple, basic statement.

“...So what.”

Namgung Myeong snarled anyway.

Cheon Seonghwa answered without blinking.

“Do you want your grave to be the Martial Alliance?”

“......!”

‘Oh.’

I admired it internally despite myself.

That was a polite way to say, Keep posturing and I’ll kill you.

‘...Polite? Is that polite?’

Even thinking it, I couldn’t make it make sense—but somehow Cheon Seonghwa had said it like a warning, not a tantrum.

In front of all these people.

If he felt like it, he’d kill the Sword King.

That was what he’d just declared.

‘...That’s insane.’

What is that kind of presence?

Sword King wasn’t weak—he was an absolute master.

And yet—

‘If I’m not imagining it...’

Sword King looked small in front of Moon-Thread Sword.

‘...Was the old man right?’

Yoo Cheongil had said it once.

That in the current Blue Moon Sect, the only ones worth mentioning were the Sect Master and the Small Moon Unit Leader.

Which meant the current Sect Master was, by definition, the strongest person in the Blue Moon Sect.

‘Moon-Thread Sword...’

Calling him the Blue Moon Sect’s strongest didn’t feel like a stretch.

‘It really doesn’t.’

Still, the fact he could say that to the head of the Namgung Clan—

That kind of audacity was shocking.

“I’m to understand you intend to kill me?”

“If you want.”

RUMBLE—!!

Thunder-qi surged again.

Namgung Myeong pushed his pressure outward, refusing to yield—

And Cheon Seonghwa placed his hand on the sword at his waist.

A fight could ignite any second.

And if it did, where would it go?

If monsters like these clashed, the surroundings would be obliterated—just like what happened with Divine Spear.

Maybe I should start mapping an escape route.

Just as that thought crossed my mind—

“That’s enough.”

Thousand-Mile True Sight cut in.

At those words, Cheon Seonghwa retreated immediately, no hesitation at all.

“Sword King. You know you’re being unreasonable. I understand your judgment is clouded because it involves your child—but you also know this isn’t good for either side.”

“...Kgh.”

Namgung Myeong let out a low, strangled sound.

“When the conference ends, I’ll arrange a time. For now, wait. This is the best consideration I can offer.”

“......”

BOOM.

Namgung Myeong stamped the floor hard.

The stone cracked—fragments splintering up.

After venting his emotion, he spun on his heel and headed out.

The people who’d been holding their breath finally exhaled.

‘Was Sword King always like that?’

I filed it away.

Hot-blooded, more than expected.

Not exactly the rational temperament he was famous for.

If anything—

‘Like Little Azure Sword.’

Closer to Little Azure Sword than Thunder Dragon?

At least, that was what his behavior suggested.

And the other surprise—

‘...Moon-Thread Sword.’

The presence he’d shown.

Even among absolute masters, he’d looked like someone who could handle Sword King lightly.

‘How strong is he, exactly?’

Just how strong was Moon-Thread Sword?

Holding that question in my mind—

“An incident occurred, but we’ll resume the conference.”

Thousand-Mile True Sight pushed the proceedings forward, and the long—yet somehow short—conference continued.

*****

Time passed, and the sky deepened in color.

Only then did the conference finally end.

I’d expected it wouldn’t wrap up quickly, but it lasted far longer than I’d anticipated.

Meaning I had to endure a long stretch of boredom.

‘...God, finally.’

An absurd amount was discussed.

What the Martial Alliance should do next.

How they would compensate the junior generation who’d lost their lives.

Countless other matters: Alliance affairs, profit and loss, the distribution of responsibility—

And Jegal Jin handled it all alone, bringing the conversation to a close every time it threatened to spiral.

Watching him made one thing clear.

‘...He’s ridiculously competent.’

Jegal Jin wasn’t just “smart.”

‘How does someone even do that?’

His mind was fast, yes—

But more than that, he used the room.

He used the situation.

He adapted, redirected, and pulled everything into a shape that benefited him.

‘Yoo Cheongil wasn’t joking when he called him a monster.’

Not in martial arts.

As a human being.

Even martial artists couldn’t move under the pressure coming off that dried-up body.

‘...God of War.’

A man who became a hero without being a martial artist.

I felt like I’d seen a sliver of the real Jegal Jin.

As I finally managed to take a breath—

“You did well.”

Jegal Jin said it to me.

“...Huh? No. I don’t think I did anything.”

Did well, my ass. I’d just stood there like a post the whole time.

The only thing I’d done was watch him use me at convenient moments and keep my mouth shut.

Even so, Jegal Jin looked genuinely worn out.

‘Well, yeah. He spent hours handling all of them alone.’

He’d absorbed wave after wave of attacks by himself.

Being only this tired was impressive.

“So... it’s over?”

“There’s follow-up work, but we put out the urgent fire.”

“You’ll be busy.”

“I have things to discuss with you as well. I’ll call for you later.”

“...Then I’ll be busy too.”

“First—”

Jegal Jin tipped his chin.

“Shouldn’t you collect what you came here to gain?”

“......”

I snorted.

Of course he knew.

‘...Did he assume I’d figure it out the moment he summoned me?’

That I wouldn’t move unless there was something in it for me.

It felt like he’d known from the start.

“Come.”

“...Yeah.”

I moved at his word.

The place we headed to was where the masters were gathered.

I walked with Jegal Jin toward the group of experts—Blade Absolute, the White King, and the rest.

Eyes gathered.

And just as I turned to greet them—

“I didn’t properly greet you earlier.”

Jegal Jin spoke first, placing a light hand on my shoulder.

“He’s my grandson.”

“...What?”

A line I never expected hit the air.