Chapter 77

Sword Empress (2)

Cheon Muyang.

His mere presence made the air grow heavy.

Kuuwoong!

Watching those fidgeting under pressure strong enough to restrict their movements, Cheon Muyang found it nothing more than laughable.

"Tsk."

How utterly pathetic.

'To be terrified by something like this.'

If that was the case, why did they even step forward?

Shaking his head at their pitiful display, Cheon Muyang fixed his gaze on the wavering warriors of the Namgung Clan and the group led by Paeng Do-hyeok.

"Hey, Paeng Do-hyeok."

He would start with Paeng Do-hyeok.

"What is it…?"

"That spot looks pretty good, doesn't it?"

Cheon Muyang walked forward.

No one could block his path.

"W-what did you say…?"

Standing before Paeng Do-hyeok, Cheon Muyang curled his lips into a vile smile.

"Mind getting lost?"

If he refused to move, it looked as though Cheon Muyang would swing his sword without hesitation.

"Ghk!"

Had it been the Paeng Do-hyeok of old, he would have charged in bravely, but he had yet to recover from his internal injuries, and the memories of being beaten twice were still painfully vivid.

Step.

He retreated backward.

With a sneer full of mockery, Cheon Muyang turned his gaze once more toward Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"Let's leave the three-way mess out of this."

"Hm…."

Now it was the Namgung Clan's turn.

This was an internal family matter.

Namgung Sang-hyeok asked her with a face as if he had bitten into excrement.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you even know where you are, daring to act out like this?!"

Yet the faint killing intent rising from his entire body was not something one would direct at blood kin.

The Namgung Seohee he remembered would have backed down with just this much.

She had always been a weak younger sister who had never once resisted Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"Where is this, exactly? Isn't this the Yongbong Gathering? Seems I've come somewhere I'm not allowed."

"…!"

But she was different now.

The confident bearing of Namgung Seohee, staring straight into his eyes as she never had before, could only be described as that of a sword peak.

And so, the one truly flustered was Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"W-what is that supposed to mean?"

"I've yielded to you all this time, brother, but I won't anymore."

"What?"

"I will become the head of the Namgung Clan."

Everyone's eyes went wide.

The position of head of the Namgung Clan.

There was not a single person who did not know what that seat represented.

"W-what nonsense are you spouting right now?"

"I said I'll become the clan head."

"You?"

"Yes."

Huuwoong!

Namgung Seohee drew her sword.

No matter how many times she spoke with words alone, nothing would change—she knew that well.

"…!"

"Whether it's possible or not, I'll show you with my sword."

Even the stance with which she drew her blade was different.

Namgung Seohee holding a sword looked natural—fitting.

"How dare you…."

Namgung Sang-hyeok burned with rage.

The clan head's seat was his.

Who dared covet it?

"So you're called the Sword Peak, and now nothing's in your sight."

Namgung Sang-hyeok smiled coldly.

He had been jealous.

But that didn't mean Namgung Seohee was stronger than him.

"Come."

Namgung Sang-hyeok was confident.

The last time he had seen it, her sword had yet to bloom.

Now, he believed he could crush her.

"..."

With that, Namgung Sang-hyeok drew his sword.

Namgung Seohee slightly lowered her head—and charged straight in.

Shiiik!

The trajectory drawn by her blade was proud and lofty.

"Ah."

A sword that drew admiration from all.

That was Namgung Seohee's sword.

However, strictly speaking, her sword was not the sword of the Namgung Clan.

"Hmph."

With a scoff, Namgung Sang-hyeok roughly knocked her blade aside.

Hooong!

It was a sword of balance—neither leaning nor extreme—the orthodox, royal path.

Kaang, kaaang!

Seohee's sword stormed forth again and again.

Yet every strike was rendered futile by Namgung Sang-hyeok's blade.

"..."

Having become a solid, unyielding wall, Namgung Sang-hyeok wore a triumphant smile.

'As expected, it still hasn't bloomed. Right now, I'm stronger!'

Namgung Sang-hyeok feared the moment Namgung Seohee's sword would finally bloom.

Blinded by jealousy, he had constantly denied her sword, even going so far as to push for a political marriage to expel her from the clan.

"Your sword is heretical."

"..."

"Do you still not understand? Your sword is not the Namgung Clan's sword."

The Namgung Clan's sword pursued perfect balance—the unerring middle path.

Thus, a sword like Namgung Seohee's, seeking freedom from that framework, was bound to differ even if it bore the same form.

"I know. That it's different."

That had been the inner demon tormenting Namgung Seohee all this time.

No one in the clan understood her sword.

So she believed she was wrong.

'I thought I was wrong.'

Because everyone said she was.

She thought so too.

It wasn't as if she hadn't tried.

Time and again, she tried to force herself into that mold.

'And each time, the inner demon only grew worse….'

Eventually, merely remaining in the Namgung Clan made her feel suffocated.

'So I ran away.'

She met Cheon Muyang.

The man she thought a butcher of the Cheon Clan was far more serious, stronger, and utterly unrestrained.

'I….'

After that, through a series of events, Namgung Seohee realized something.

'I shouldn't have run.'

The Wolf King made her realize it.

Cheon Muyang showed her with his own actions.

'What I needed to do was….'

Not escape.

'It was to face it head-on.'

So she didn't avoid it.

She confronted it.

And she realized—

That she was not wrong.

"But why should that be wrong?"

"W-what did you say?"

It was the first time.

The first time Namgung Seohee had argued back.

"If you call yourself a king, then you should be able to embrace even my sword."

What is a king?

Is only a perfectly balanced, orthodox sword worthy of being called a king's sword?

"Is pursuing only a single predetermined path truly the road a king must walk?"

It was wrong.

A king, by nature, must be able to embrace all things.

"Brother."

"…!"

Shoong!

Her sword moved.

It was a sword beyond rigid patterns—hers alone.

Paat!

Blood flowed.

The once-unyielding throne of Namgung Sang-hyeok began to crumble.

"I will become the king."

"…!"

Namgung Sang-hyeok realized it.

The thing he had feared most.

'Has it bloomed…?'

Namgung Seohee's talent had finally bloomed.

Huuwoong!

The cry of the sword, its resonance, deepened.

Its depth was beyond what Namgung Sang-hyeok could possibly measure.

"So don't stop me."

"..."

"If you try to stop me."

Squirm.

Namgung Sang-hyeok felt an unease.

As though the entire area was bowing to Namgung Seohee's will.

'This is….'

Not only Namgung Sang-hyeok—

Even the warriors of the Namgung Clan flinched.

A sensation both familiar and unfamiliar emanated from Namgung Seohee.

"I will cut you down."

"The Emperor Sword Form…?"

It was the ultimate secret art of the Namgung Clan, said to be wielded only by the Sword King Namgung San—the Emperor Sword Form.

Crackle!

It was nowhere near Namgung San's level, but the intent was unmistakable.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of invisible swords were leveled at once.

Schring.

It happened in that instant.

The warriors of the Namgung Clan drew their swords, none needing a signal.

Dozens of blades shot up toward the sky, then in the blink of an eye, plunged straight down toward the earth.

"…!"

At the very least, Namgung Sang-hyeok understood what it meant.

It was etiquette—and respect—shown toward the one who had inherited the Emperor Sword Form.

Crunch.

That was why Namgung Sang-hyeok had nowhere left to retreat.

"No. I am the head of the Namgung Clan. I am the legitimate eldest son! How could someone born a mere woman ever ascend to the position of clan head?!"

Namgung Seohee let out a short laugh.

It sounded much like the entrenched prejudice of the martial world she would have to fight against endlessly.

"It doesn't matter."

"…!"

Hooong!

The domain of the Emperor Sword Form expanded.

Now, everyone gathered here was facing Namgung Seohee's sword.

"If anyone truly believes that, then they'll have to face my blade."

She would see whether they could still say such things before her sword.

And she would cut them down.

"That is my path."

That confidence.

How could one even describe it?

Those around her recalled a title lost to the past.

"S-Sword… Sword Empress…."

"Is this the rebirth of the Sword Empress?"

"Ooooo…!"

Sword Empress.

An undying symbol that vanished when the Botamun of Mount Bota was annihilated.

The woman who evoked that ancient symbol was none other than Namgung Seohee.

"Shut up! Silence, all of you!"

Namgung Sang-hyeok denied reality.

This couldn't be happening.

He was the legitimate eldest son of the Namgung Clan—the one meant to inherit the title of Sword King.

"It's my seat! That seat is mine!"

With bloodshot eyes, Namgung Sang-hyeok swung his killing intent wildly, having completely lost his composure.

"What a pitiful sword."

Cheon Muyang delivered a merciless critique.

And at the same moment—

Kaang!

Namgung Sang-hyeok's sword snapped in two.

Clink.

Fragments fell to the ground, their light extinguished.

The vacant-eyed Namgung Sang-hyeok—

—and Namgung Seohee, her cold eyes meeting his as she placed her sword against his neck.

"No."

"…."

"There is no place anywhere for you, brother."

A perfect defeat.

And yet, Namgung Sang-hyeok still hadn't given up.

Step. Step.

Because he saw an old man walking toward them from afar.

"Grandfather!"

The Sword King—Namgung San.

He had arrived.

Another Emperor Sword Form overlapped Namgung Seohee's.

Schring.

Another unseen blade began to press down upon the space.

"Sang-hyeok."

"Th-this isn't right! How can Seohee become the clan head?! Please—please say something! Tell them this is wrong!"

He clung to the only support he had left.

And shouted desperately.

Almost pitifully.

"Tsk."

The Sword King clicked his tongue.

The Namgung Sang-hyeok before him was no longer the grandson he had poured years of affection into.

'So this is how lacking you truly were.'

The position of Namgung Clan Head was far beyond what Namgung Sang-hyeok could bear.

So Namgung San spoke coldly, as though addressing a stranger.

"That's enough, Sang-hyeok."

"…!"

"The opportunity given to you has ended."

"W-what?"

Namgung Sang-hyeok stared blankly.

"T-that doesn't make any sense…"

He couldn't believe it.

Just then—

"Sword King!"

The elders of the Namgung Clan, having finally grasped the situation, rushed in.

But Namgung San ignored them and declared to all under heaven:

"That child, Namgung Seohee, will become the Sword Empress of the Namgung Clan."

Kuuung!

The words were heavy.

The warriors of the Namgung Clan dropped to their knees.

"T-that can't—!"

Swish.

The Sword King, Namgung San, who had been silent until now, turned his cold gaze toward the elders.

"Ghk!"

"That is my will."

The Sword King raised the Emperor Sword.

"Look."

He extended the Emperor Sword toward Namgung Seohee.

"…."

The blade had already acknowledged her as its new master.

Huuwoong!

In Namgung Seohee's grasp, the Emperor Sword released a resounding cry in all directions.

It was over.

Who could possibly defy the will of the Sword King?

"Th-this can't be…"

Namgung Sang-hyeok lowered his head, eyes hollow.

"With this, the Yongbong Gathering comes to an end."

The Sword King declared the gathering's conclusion, and the crowd dispersed, each face etched with shock.

"…."

Among them were Tang Sohye, staring coldly at Namgung Sang-hyeok, and Paeng Do-hyeok, wearing a meaningful smile.

"This can't be…"

"Take him away."

"Yes."

Namgung Sang-hyeok, utterly broken, was carried away as well.

Only Hougae and Cheon Muyang remained.

"This isn't the end."

"I know."

"Good. Winning their swords is entirely up to you. Do well."

"Yes, Grandfather."

The Sword King passed by Namgung Seohee.

His back looked lighter—yet conflicted.

"Child of the Cheon Clan."

"Yes."

"We'll meet again."

"I look forward to it."

Namgung San departed.

As if waiting for this moment, Hougae rushed over and began gushing.

"I truly had no idea Miss Seohee possessed such resolve."

Hougae, who had been babbling about the rebirth of the Sword Empress, stopped at Cheon Muyang's gesture.

"That's enough."

"Ah—yes, of course."

"You know what needs to be done, right?"

"Yes, yes. Naturally. I've already set things in motion."

A meaningful exchange.

Namgung Seohee asked,

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I figured the Tang Clan wouldn't withdraw so quietly."

Tang Sohye.

There was clearly some sort of connection between her and Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"…Huh?"

The corner of Cheon Muyang's lips lifted.

"The Yongbong Gathering may be over—but the Tang Clan isn't."

Hougae laughed as well.

"Yes, yes. Exactly."

"…?"

"Sorry, but we plan to use your brother as bait."

"Ah."

Namgung Seohee understood immediately.

Their relationship was already beyond repair—there was no reason to hesitate.

"It's fine."