Chapter 89
Chapter 89: Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven
The Sichuan Tang Clan was headquartered within Tang Clan Village, located in the vicinity of Chengdu.
Tang Clan Village was a clan settlement where all those who shared the Tang surname lived side by side.
Unlike standard martial clans, the population sharing this single name was so vast that their settlement had grown to rival a full-scale city.
The reason behind this was straightforward.
“Gun. Do you understand why our Tang Clan exists as both a clan and a sect?”
Turbulence had always gripped the Sichuan basin. Although Sichuan itself walked the path of the orthodox sects, the land of Guizhou to the east had long been controlled by the unorthodox path. To the south, outside sects of the southern barbarians cast greedy eyes over Sichuan without pause, while demonic cults of every wicked description infested Tibet to the west.
Across centuries, Sichuan had remained a battleground where martial artists of conflicting factions clashed incessantly for dominion.
The original roots of the Tang Clan traced back to ordinary blacksmiths and physicians—people repeatedly victimized by martial artists until, with no other recourse to survive, they turned to poison.
It had never originated from one singular founding forefather carrying the Tang name.
“Our ancestors swore a sacred pledge: to band together under the singular name of Tang, ensuring the tragedies of the past would never be repeated.”
Though their veins carried diverse bloodlines, they united as one family bound by the same surname.
Thus, they were the Tang Clan. Thus, they were the Tang Sect.
Tang Gun let his mind drift back to his early years, scampering across the lanes of Tang Clan Village.
Other prestigious houses strictly separated the inner sanctum from the outer grounds, creating a stark divide between the main line and lateral branches.
The Tang Clan operated on an entirely different principle.
Anyone bearing the Tang surname was kin.
Because the clan was formed by a multitude of founders, no rift existed between direct and collateral lines; anyone who carried the name was embraced as an inseparable piece of the whole.
Tang Clan Village was, in its entirety, the Tang Clan itself.
“Gun. You have been selected as the next young lord.”
The seat of clan lord was never decided by hereditary succession.
Among everyone bearing the Tang name, whichever youth displayed the greatest excellence was named young lord, eventually stepping forward to command the entire clan.
Because of this, Tang Gun’s own father had never held the mantle of clan lord.
“The Lord of the Clan has summoned you. Step inside.”
It had been his first audience with the leader after demonstrating his martial gifts and securing the title of young lord…
Tang Seong, who stood as both the clan lord and his sixth-degree uncle, had seated the young Tang Gun upon his lap and spoken gently.
“Gun. Every soul that answers to the name of Tang harbors one fervent yearning.”
“What might that be, Uncle? Ah, forgive me… Lord of the Clan.”
“To cast aside our restrictions and overcome our heavenly affliction.”
The clan lord carved into the boy’s spirit the gravity of purpose every head of the Tang Clan had to bear, along with the heights they were destined to pursue.
To claim complete autonomy from the Nine Sects and the Five Great Houses.
To hold true to the humble roots of the Tang clan, continually broadening their influence so not a single one of their brethren would ever be tormented again.
“Gun. Do you know why our Tang Clan appoints its young lords when they are so tender in years and transfers the leadership so swiftly?”
“An immense burden weighs upon the head of the Tang Clan. He must pour every ounce of his being into surmounting the limitations of our ancestral arts.”
The Tang Clan stood proudly within the top ten martial clans under heaven.
Yet the inherent tier of its ancestral martial arts was not remarkably elevated.
“The Nine Sects and Five Great Houses never allowed us access to apex-realm martial arts. Though we have polished and expanded the heritage left to us, we have never managed to leap across that boundary.”
If evaluated solely by the inherent rank of their legacy arts, the Tang Clan possessed no right to maintain their lofty stature.
Through every generation that had passed, not one clan leader had successfully stepped into the apex realm.
The sole reason they could still boast the title of Sichuan’s paramount martial clan was the distinct, terrifying nature of their poison and concealed weapons.
“If our Tang Clan is to rise higher, we must shatter the framework others forced upon us and create a path that is entirely our own.”
With each generation, the reigning patriarch took up the exhausting duty of developing brand-new martial arts.
Conceiving a transcendent divine art was an ordeal beyond measure.
Because its foundation had to be woven around poison craft and hidden projectiles, the barrier to success was steeper than ordinary martial creation.
“When you have matured enough to shoulder the clan’s administration, I shall step into closed-door seclusion.”
A solitary retreat with no promised conclusion, whether it required ten years or two decades…
All for the sake of tearing away the shackles that strangled their house.
The Lord of the Tang Clan was someone destined to cast away his own life for the preservation of his kin.
“Thus, Gun, I ask you plainly: do you possess the iron resolve to carry the burden of the clan head? If your heart wavers, I will strip your title this very moment.”
Despite his youth, Tang Gun had replied without a shred of doubt.
“I will dedicate everything I have to our clan, Lord of the Clan!”
And now, today…
Following that clash against the young lord of the Namgung noble house.
Tang Gun felt an excruciating, hollow wave of powerlessness wash through him.
He had felt, deep within his marrow, the cold grip of the collar and chains that held the Tang clan captive.
For the tomorrow of our house, for a greater tomorrow… we must lay our hands upon a superior, elevated martial art. We must!
Yanghwi’s words suddenly pierced Tang Gun’s ears.
“The Sword King’s Tomb. It rests in Gyesu, does it not?”
“The Sword King’s Tomb. It rests in Gyesu, does it not?”
Watching Jin Geumbo flinch in sheer shock, Yanghwi offered a thin smirk.
You never imagined I would know, did you?
His shock was entirely reasonable.
Had it not been for the memories carried over from his life before the regression, Yanghwi himself would have remained completely in the dark.
“…”
Jin Geumbo refrained from making the foolish blunder of shouting, How could you possibly know?
Though his limbs shook with raw agitation, he swallowed his voice and fixed a steady gaze on Yanghwi.
It appeared Yanghwi needed to unravel a few more threads of his deduction before the merchant would be willing to speak.
“Where shall I begin? Ah, yes. The true motivation behind including me in this caravan escort. Let us start by peeling that back.”
“…”
“The Baek house, widely perceived as the Tang Clan’s subordinate puppet. And the Sword Dwarf, the most renowned martial artist to hail from that very Baek house. That was the reputation you sought, was it not?”
The Tang Clan and the Baek house stood on level—or nearly level—ground as comrades.
Yet in the eyes of the martial world, the Baek house must have appeared as nothing more than a puppet raised by the Tang Clan to reach into Jiangxi.
Surrendering a portion of their land so an auxiliary branch could be built would easily be viewed as a clumsy ploy to hide beneath someone else’s wing.
And that precise misunderstanding was what Yanghwi had deliberately cultivated.
“The Tang Clan’s puppet, the Baek house. Within its walls reside only three individuals whose names echo loudly enough to warrant martial world epithets.”
Lord Baek Muryang. Gu Ak, One Chivalrous Deed a Day.
And Baek Yanghwi, the Sword Dwarf.
“You were undoubtedly aware that the young lord of the Namgung noble house was tracking every move the Tang Clan made, Merchant Jin.”
Whether he caught wind of it through intelligence or worked it out through his own cunning was irrelevant.
The only thing that mattered was his underlying scheme.
“You planned to hide behind me—or more accurately, hide behind the Tang Clan—to divert his gaze elsewhere.”
Jin Geumbo and the Jin Estate had every reason to lead the eyes of Namgung astray.
“Which explains why your heart leapt with silent joy the moment Brother Tang and Sister Tang joined this escort.”
Lacking any legitimate pretext to recruit Tang Clan experts directly, he had gambled on baiting interest with the eldest son of their perceived puppet. To have the true young lord of the Tang Clan fall straight into his lap must have felt like a gift granted by the heavens.
“Have I missed the mark anywhere?”
“…No. That was merely…”
“Then enlighten me. Given a choice between two routes, why steer us toward Hefei? In light of what just unfolded, your decision defies all practical sense.”
Yanghwi brought to mind the nervous deference Jin Geumbo had shown while conversing with Namgung Cheonhu.
“You achieved what you set out to do, Merchant Jin. In the end, you were not dragged off into custody by the young lord of Namgung. Am I wrong?”
“…”
The merchant remained as silent as a stone monument.
Just what would it take to break that unyielding lock on his lips?
“I took the liberty of looking into the history of the Jin Estate. Roughly five years ago, you liquidated all your clan’s holdings at a steep loss simply to establish yourselves in Gyesu.”
“It was merely a change of residence.”
…This stubborn dance was wearing thin.
It was time to strike straight at the core.
“Are you truly content to let the young lord of Namgung seize it from your hands?”
“Young Hero Baek, you are chasing ghosts. Our house has absolutely no connection to the Sword King’s Tomb.”
“The Sword King’s Tomb Bloodbath orchestrated by the Blood Serpent Sect… The Jin family of Taiyuan was nearly wiped off the earth because of that calamity. From that moment onward, unearthing the Sword King’s Tomb must have become your clan’s sole, consuming obsession.”
“I will not contest that history. The Jin Estate was indeed rebuilt by the scattered survivors of Taiyuan’s Jin family from that disaster. Yet pursue the Sword King’s Tomb? How could an entire family spend generations chasing after a phantom legend?”
Perhaps the strike had not gone deep enough.
He needed to thrust the blade all the way to the hilt.
“Baeksu Mountain in Gyesu.”
Jin Geumbo went rigid.
“H-How could you know of that…?”
The question slipped past his lips before he desperately slapped a hand over his mouth.
The damage was already done.
Ah, much better.
“I offer you a choice. Will you converse with unreserved candor, or shall our paths part ways right here? Naturally, I will still honor our contract and escort you to Gyesu unharmed.”
“…”
Half a da-gak slipped past. A full da-gak. Then the length of an entire meal.
Following that long, agonizing internal conflict, Jin Geumbo finally surrendered a ragged breath.
His features seemed to have withered by ten full years in that fleeting interlude.
“Young Hero Baek… your perception dwarfs the rumors. Had I anticipated this, I would never have petitioned your aid.”
“In just a heartbeat, you will find yourself grateful that you did.”
“I pray that proves true. I shall conceal nothing. Yes, you have pierced the truth. The lifelong aspiration of our bloodline… was indeed to locate the Sword King’s Tomb.”
Jin Geumbo continued to unburden himself for a long time.
Decades prior, snared by the deceptive fabrications of the Blood Serpent Sect, the Jin family of Taiyuan was pushed to the precipice of total annihilation.
The remnants who survived grew fixated upon the Sword King’s Tomb, the very catalyst that had authored their ruin.
They convinced themselves that uncovering it was their only path to restoring their shattered prestige.
“Though the Sword King’s Tomb Bloodbath was undeniably a trap born of lies… authentic clues concerning the tomb were not entirely missing during that turmoil.”
“Of course. A truly masterful deception always shelters a kernel of truth.”
Yanghwi reflected on the counsel Yeo Hyeok had shared before their departure on this escort mission.
Yeo Hyeok had also recognized the fragment of reality buried beneath the web of deceit.
However, the nature of the truth Yeo Hyeok possessed seemed fundamentally distinct from whatever the Jin family guarded.
There was no reason to reveal that particular piece just yet.
“Young Hero. Can I place my faith in you?”
Whether he could be trusted…
Within a jianghu as treacherous as a dense thicket of blades, that was an entirely meaningless inquiry.
Even so, one reality remained unmistakable.
“How much has the young lord of Namgung uncovered? Better yet, how did you become entangled in his web to begin with?”
“…He somehow caught scent that our Jin family possessed a lead regarding the Sword King’s Tomb and was actively pursuing it. Approximately three years ago, the young lord approached us, pledging the full backing of his house.”
“And you accepted his terms?”
“He swore that when the tomb was unearthed, he would lead the expedition on our behalf and divide the treasures impartially. We were trapped in desperate straits at the time; his promise felt like a silk rope cast down from heaven.”
A dry scoff parted Yanghwi’s lips.
Divide it impartially? Those Namgung wretches?
Those conceited bastards who professed to revere heaven while genuinely believing they were heaven itself would never share a single scrap.
“It seems you have finally seen through their facade.”
“…I have.”
From Jin Geumbo’s crestfallen posture, Yanghwi confirmed one vital truth.
He has drawn far closer to the Sword King’s Tomb than I initially presumed.
That explained his gnawing dread. That explained his paralyzing terror.
The sheer horror that his family’s eternal ambition would be swallowed whole by the Namgung noble house.
“Young Hero, indulge my curiosity on one point. How did you deduce that the Sword King’s Tomb lies within Baeksu Mountain? Even our own family was merely working off theories.”
Oh, that?
It was simply a calculated guess.
Strictly speaking, he had merely pieced it together from the public declaration the Namgung noble house made in his past life and their military deployments back then.
He could hardly unveil that truth to the man before him.
“Let us simply say the Jin family was not the only party combing the earth for the Sword King’s Tomb.”
“…Understood. That is only natural.”
Letting out yet another exhausted breath, Jin Geumbo spoke on.
“Our Jin family… hungers for nothing grand. We only… only wish to realize the ancestral dream of our ancestors.”
The plight of the Jin family.
The path of the Baek house.
The heavy fate of the Tang Clan.
Yanghwi closed his eyes for a quiet beat before letting them open, turning his gaze toward Tang Gun.
“Brother Tang.”
“I hear you, Brother Hwi.”
“It appears we have stumbled upon an opportunity to strike the Namgung noble house where it hurts most. Merchant Jin, answer me one final thing.”
“Ask what you will.”
The Namgung noble house had guaranteed their backing to the Jin Estate. They had undeniably been conducting their own clandestine search for the Sword King’s Tomb as well.
That was precisely how they had gathered intelligence on the Jin Estate and approached them in the shadows.
“The Namgung noble house possesses their own clue regarding the Sword King’s Tomb, do they not?”
“They do. From the fragments I gathered… they acquired a piece of the treasure map. That was the pivotal reason we consented to their patronage.”
“Have you laid eyes upon that map fragment yourself?”
“They refused to let us view it. Yet its reality is beyond question.”
“And in return, you surrendered the clue held by your Jin family to the Namgung noble house?”
“…Had we refused, their aid would never have been granted.”
“I am not passing judgment on your choice.”
The broader landscape was finally falling into place.
The Namgung noble house, clutching a piece of the treasure map to the Sword King’s Tomb.
The Jin Estate, harboring a separate clue.
And standing alongside them, the Baek house and the Tang Clan.
“Merchant Jin. Make your choice.”
Though the demand came without warning, Jin Geumbo understood the gravity beneath those words.
“…”
Jin Geumbo’s thoughts raced back through everything he had witnessed on this journey.
The brazen provocation from the Jeongwol Sect, and how the eldest young lord of the Baek house had wrested colossal advantages from an encounter that most would have simply dismissed.
The righteous resolve that laid waste to an entire bandit mountain fortress upon witnessing the slaughter of an innocent village.
The genuine mercy that distributed half of the recovered wealth back to the common villagers, even when no soul in the realm would have dared criticize him for pocketing the fortune as a warrior’s rightful prize.
…At the very least, this man is cut from far nobler cloth than the vultures of the Namgung noble house.
A choice between two paths… No, Jin Geumbo had held only one viable path from the very beginning.
“Lend us your strength. I beg of you, Young Hero, lend us your strength.”
“Turning away from a man who pleads for salvation runs contrary to the chivalric code.”
Yanghwi’s mouth curled into an easy, confident smile.
“Then tell me, will you unveil the secret that the Jin family carries?”
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