Chapter 14. Sword Demon and Earth God (劍鬼地神)

The sun had long set, and night had fallen deeply, casting darkness over everything.

Yet [Uncheongak] was as bright as day, illuminated by torches placed all around.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Chwak! Chwa-jwak!

“Haa! Haah!”

“Cha-hap!”

“Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!”

In the training grounds, the sound of swords slicing through the air and vigorous shouts never ceased.

Ever since Hoyeon had visited that morning, the entire 7th Squad of the Changgoong Unit had refrained from eating or resting, engrossed in training the Changgoong Muae Sword Technique.

“This is… how he did it, right?”

“There’s a change here.”

“Hoo! Hoo! Again!”

Their expressions were serious—yet oddly refreshed.

‘If you don’t know your destination, it’s easy to lose your way.’

Namgung Cheonggang observed the squad members and thought:

‘When you’re wandering without knowing where you’re going, your heart grows impatient and stifled.’

But today, the 7th Squad had seen a clear destination with their own eyes.

Namgung Hoyeon.

The sword art demonstrated by his beloved youngest brother was the very path the Changgoong Unit had to follow.

Rustle!

Namgung Cheonggang opened the commentary Hoyeon had written on the Changgoong Muae Sword Technique.

“The Changgoong Muae Sword Technique aspires to be a Heavy Sword (重劍). But what is a heavy sword? Is it simply a heavy weapon? A slow one? Both are wrong.”

“Pfft, the kid didn’t seem it, but he’s got a manly streak,”

Cheonggang chuckled, nodding at Hoyeon’s sharp yet composed writing style.

He continued reading.

“A heavy sword is both explosive and calm, like the eye of a typhoon. It’s like a spinning top—it seems still, but spins rapidly. Tranquility in motion. Balance through constant rotation. In this way, the top secures its own space.”

“Huh…”

He could only marvel the more he read.

How could each chapter overflow with such insights?

Genius.

That was the only word to describe it.

‘Hmph… I thought I was above average among my peers, but I was too arrogant.’

Cheonggang shook his head, then drew his sword.

Chaang!

Zing!

Blue sword energy immediately burst forth as he focused his mind.

‘I am a top—silent, yet endlessly in motion. Therefore, one jang around me is my domain.’

Fsssshh…

Gradually, his sword aura began to scatter into mist.

It was the very technique Hoyeon had shown—Sword Cloud (劍雲).

Fwoosh! Fwooosh!

Surrounded by a swirling mist of blue energy, Namgung Cheonggang looked like a divine dragon commanding the skies.

After maintaining the Sword Cloud for a while, he sheathed his blade.

Shrrk.

Click.

“Phew. Still lacking. I haven’t fully dominated my surroundings yet.”

Despite the critique, his face was glowing with joy.

He had just overcome a wall.

‘It aligns with the Imperial Sword Form I’ve recently learned. Perhaps the Changgoong Muae is actually the root of that form.’

Just as Cheonggang was lost in thought—

Clap! Clap! Clap!

“Cheonggang. You broke through the wall. Congratulations.”

“Jaryang.”

“Heh, I thought I had caught up a step, but you’re running again.”

Namgung Jaryang smiled warmly, sincerely congratulating Cheonggang. His face was no longer clouded by jealousy, pressure, or urgency.

“Thanks. And congratulations to you as well.”

“Oh, please. If a crow wants to keep up with a crane, it better move its legs fast.”

With a shrug, Jaryang added,

“Though no one can catch a phoenix anyway.”

“Haha, true. Hoyeon truly is Namgung’s greatest talent.”

As Cheonggang proudly praised his brother, Jaryang smirked and said,

“Then that makes me the man acknowledged by Namgung’s best.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you remember? Young Master Hoyeon called me ‘the handsome squad member.’ Not you.”

“…”

Cheonggang’s face stiffened.

“That’s only because Hoyeon is kind. He actually likes me best.”

“Hahaha, and what does he call you?”

“…He calls me hyung.”

Jaryang’s face bloomed with triumph.

“Ha! He calls me ‘weasel.’ That’s a nickname. A special one.”

“What! That can’t be!”

“It’s true. He seems especially fond of me.”

“Hoyeon is my brother!”

“Well, in a broader sense, he’s my brother too. If the main family won’t acknowledge even that, I might as well quit the Changgoong Unit.”

Cheonggang was surprised.

Jaryang was never the type to joke about quitting.

“You’ve changed.”

“People change.”

“…I suppose.”

“I’m sorry. My petty jealousy caused you a lot of trouble.”

Clack.

Jaryang held out a hand in apology.

Cheonggang stared at it for a moment, then shook it firmly.

“It’s fine. Your complaints were fair. Even I sometimes find the family rules stifling.”

“Then why not become the patriarch and change them? I’ll back you.”

“Haha! That’s good to hear.”

Squeeze!

Their handshake tightened with conviction, and almost as if on cue, they recited the Changgoong motto:

“Changgoong Muae (蒼穹無礙).”
“Namcheon Gwangmyeong (南天光明).”

There are no bounds under the blue sky.
And light shall shine upon the southern heavens.

* * *

“This confirms that the Namgung family’s debt to the Baekun Trading Company has been fully repaid.”

At the official’s dry words, Baek Wongwang stood up with a satisfied grin.

“Huhu, it was a fine deal.”

“…”

Namgung Baek stared down at the documents on his desk with a bitter expression.

There lay promissory notes, land deeds, and a small box.

Tap.

Wongwang picked up the land deed and tucked it into his robe.

‘Tch. Some unexpected losses, but compared to this, they’re nothing.’

He glanced at the small box—inside was a fortune of 10,000 gold coins, the result of Namgung Baek’s final bargaining chip.

‘Think of it as buying time during the lawsuit. If not for that fire, I wouldn’t have paid a penny…’

The Baekun Company had paid massive damages to the Geumneung Company, severely depleting their liquid assets.

They had intended to slowly bleed Namgung dry, but now they urgently needed the northern farmland’s yield.

Baek’s negotiation had squeezed 10,000 gold out of them—but losing ancestral farmland hurt more than he’d admit.

“Hahaha, use that gold for your escort agency project.”

“…”

“If I ever need guards, I’ll come to you. We families rooted in Hapbi must support each other, after all.”

Namgung Baek silently picked up a promissory note and focused his internal energy on it.

Fwoosh!

“…Gasp!”

“Hm…”

The document burst into flame.

His icy blue gaze fixed on Wongwang.

“…Thank you. I’ll remember the heart of your company’s master.”

“Hmph, hrm.”

Wongwang broke into a nervous sweat under that cold stare.

‘That was Sammae Fire…? Even a decayed fish has bite. Has he reached peak mastery?’

The Sammae Fire required not just strong inner energy but minute control over it—usually said to be possible only at the highest levels.

Namgung Baek was sending a warning.

‘Hmph! So what if he has power? Does he think we’re still just a merchant guild? He doesn’t know who’s behind us…’

Though his heart raced, Wongwang forced a mysterious smile and bowed.

“Huhu, may we meet under better circumstances. Farewell.”

Clack!

Wongwang quickly left the room.

The official witnessing the deal cleared his throat and prepared to leave.

“Hrm, I’ll take my leave as well—”

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“I have a question.”

Slide.

Namgung Baek pushed the box of gold forward.

“With this money, can I buy the widest land managed by the authorities?”

“The widest… land?”

“Even wasteland is fine. As long as it’s big.”

The official thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Then the western plains would be perfect.”

“Western plains?”

“Yes, it’s been unowned for over a hundred years.”

“Must be cheap, then?”

“Yes, but…”

The official hesitated, then added cautiously,

“Please, do not take interest in that land.”

“Why not?”

“It’s barren. Nothing grows there—not crops or livestock. It’s completely infertile.”

Namgung Baek chuckled at the official’s concern.

“Haha, I appreciate the warning.”

“Phew, thank good—”

“I’ll buy it.”

“…Pardon?”

Namgung Baek smiled gently as the official blinked in confusion.

“My youngest son asked for it.”

In his mind echoed the excited voice of the Changgoong Unit commander.

“Hahaha! Lord Patriarch! Rejoice! A divine dragon has finally appeared in Namgung!”

Divine dragon, huh… Hoyeon, if you’re truly a dragon, let’s see you work miracles.

* * *

Step. Step. Step.

A figure walked through the night.

A small silhouette in a black cloak.

It was Hoyeon.

“Boy, off to commit arson again?”

“Oh come on, old man. That was a simple greeting.”

“If that’s your idea of greeting, no one will greet anyone ever again.”

“Is that why kids these days are so rude?”

“You’re the rudest of them all!”

As he bantered with the Thunder Sword spirit, Hoyeon grinned.

“Anyway, old man. You weren’t lying, right?”

“About what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You said the Heavenly Thunder Emperor Art is actually the Art of Fertile Earth Creation.”

Okto Changsaeng Gong (沃土創生功).

A martial art said to create fertile land?

Hoyeon had a hard time believing it, but based on the Thunder Sword’s confidence, he had asked his father to purchase land.

“It’s true. Don’t say you’ve been deceived your whole life.”

“I have.”

“…I’ll let that slide. Let me say again: every Namgung patriarch who mastered the Heavenly Thunder Emperor Art was known as an Earth God (地神).”

“That’s what confuses me. Earth God? I could understand Sky God or Thunder God. Not… Earth. What next, God of Puns?”

“What did you say?”

“I’m saying I trusted your word and went all in. Not that it was a huge plot of land…”

He shrugged. He doubted his father would take the request of a 15-year-old seriously or buy anything massive.

‘Even if it’s just a little land, I can test it.’

Just then, the Thunder Sword added,

“I told you—the northern farmland is fertile because the Namgung family has controlled it for generations.”

“It wasn’t naturally fertile?”

“It wasn’t bad to begin with. But ever since Namgung took over, not a single poor harvest. That’s not normal.”

“A miraculous land… Even with year-round crop rotation, its fertility doesn’t drop, right?”

Usually, farmland requires a fallow period to recover.

Even the most fertile land can’t sustain constant farming forever.

But the northern farmland had no fallow period—something unheard of even across the Central Plains.

“Haha! That’s the Heavenly Thunder Emperor Art’s power. The northern land has long been a training ground for the patriarchs.”

“A training ground…”

Step.

Hoyeon stopped walking.

The air was thick with the smell of earth and damp water.

Scanning the darkness, his eyes glimmered.

“So this is the place, huh?”