~CHAPTER 12~
*
Before his body woke, his mind stirred from sleep. Freed from the hallucinatory fog, his senses were sharp, yet he couldn’t so much as twitch a finger. It was a strange sensation, as if he were drifting underwater.
As Moyonghun lingered in that dazed state, a chilling memory suddenly flashed through his mind.
Uncle!
The man he had respected and followed his whole life—the one who had masqueraded as a simple, unassuming martial artist while taking the lead in supporting his father—had actually been waiting only for the chance to reveal his true intentions.
Who could have ever predicted it?
That man had never once looked to claim the headship of the family.
There had been no hint, no warning, nothing at all.
Yet Moyonghun’s father—the head of the Moyong family, one of the five great clans, a pillar of the martial world—was utterly crushed at the hands of his own trusted younger brother.
At that time, the Moyong family’s prestige ranked among the top five in the martial world.
The Jeongdom Alliance ruled over half of the martial world, and within that alliance, only a few were recognized as prestigious sects: the Gu-style faction and the five great clans.
The Moyong family was one of the leading houses even among these five, and in its home base of Liaoning, its power rivaled that of prominent noble families in the capital.
The head of such a family wielded immense power—so great that it could create beasts of nobility who would not even recognize their own blood.
In the distant past, there had been instances of bloodshed among family members, and from those tragedies, strict traditions had been established.
To prevent such disasters from happening again, the Moyong family decreed that only the eldest son could ever ascend to the headship.
It wasn’t about personal ability; only being the direct eldest son mattered.
The head of a martial clan is similar to the leader of a prestigious sect, but due to the nature of a family house, the role carries the responsibility of being the head of the family lineage.
A sect may shine through the power of one great master, but sustaining its reputation over time requires a wise leader. A group always needs someone capable of elevating the whole, so that each member can fulfill their role.
To avoid the pitfalls of hereditary succession, the family had carefully prepared safeguards against the abuse of these rules.
If someone other than the eldest son attempted to take the position—whether due to the death of the head or a sub-branch head—mere suspicion of manipulation was enough to strip them of their martial abilities and expel them.
Even if a plot succeeded in eliminating the eldest, the perpetrator would almost certainly become a cripple and be cast out of the family.
And even without plotting, a sudden death of an older sibling could unjustly mark someone as guilty, condemning them to ruin.
If one was born as a child of the Moyong family head but not the eldest, the wise choice was to accept their fate and cultivate their skills to earn their own reputation.
That was why…
Moyonghun could not believe what his uncle had done to his father.
Even now, it felt unreal, like a nightmare.
What his uncle did was, in essence, a mutual destruction.
Born a second son, there was no way for him to claim the headship.
Unless his goal had been sheer destruction, why would he commit such a foolish act?
A single cup of wine handed to his father…
A single cup that caused his father to collapse, spilling black blood from his mouth and ears, falling beneath the proud back of the Moyong family head.
And then, the familiar blade struck.
Moyonghun had watched the horrific scene with his eyes wide open, yet could not move a finger.
His father fell without ever drawing a sword. His elder siblings were not spared. His mother stood against his uncle, meeting blade to blade, and her heart was pierced by the same sword, spraying blood.
Among the carnage were countless familiar faces who had once owed their loyalty to his father.
It was sheer luck that Moyonghun had escaped.
He had been eager to step into the martial world like his elder siblings, but his parents had stopped him, saying he was not ready—even barring him from the Baekmu Academy entrance exam.
In his sulking resentment, he had skipped the family feast celebrating the head’s birthday.
Yet, his curiosity drew him near the hall anyway, wandering secretly.
When he came to his senses, he realized he was the only survivor of his family. Had Moyongcheong and Moyongjeok not pulled his dazed body to safety, he would have been dead already.
They were the twin children of Moyong Jeongho, his father’s cousin and right-hand, six years older than Moyonghun, skilled in martial arts and sharp in judgment.
Yet whether their survival was truly fortunate was uncertain.
The assassins followed immediately, raining swords, spears, and arrows upon them. They hacked and slashed their way through, wounds piling on their bodies, clothes torn and ragged, blood ready to spill at any moment, yet they gritted their teeth and pressed forward.
Together, the three barely escaped the Moyong family’s territory, but there was no respite.
The pursuit was relentless.
A horde of assassins arrived to end the last of the family bloodline—to snuff out Moyonghun’s life.
No.
They were not assassins.
They were family, sworn brothers and blood kin, intimately familiar with each other’s every secret, whether they wanted to know it or not.
All of them are from the Moyong clan; all of them are family.
And that truth crushed Moyonghun’s heart.
Moyonghun, Moyongcheong, and Moyongjeok had no time to recover from their ever-growing injuries.
Overnight, they were reduced to fugitives, forced to face an unending stream of the Moyong family’s martial retainers.
Meanwhile, rumors spread like wildfire along the roads.
It was said that the head of the Moyong family had secretly allied with demonic martial sects beyond the frontier, acting as their agent to exploit commoners.
It was nonsense.
Moyonghun knew his father.
A man of integrity, upright and unyielding, who extended his hand to the weak and governed the strong, accumulating virtue through generosity.
Even when elders openly disapproved, he stood his ground. In all the world, nothing mattered more than knowing what was right and just.
The purpose of the Jeongdom Alliance was to uphold righteousness through martial and chivalrous deeds, and as the one standing at its centre, his father would never show weakness.
Though the world treated his father like a beast worse than a black-handed villain, Moyonghun knew it was all slander.
That day…
The Moyong family was drenched in the blood of the Moyongs, a hideous and horrifying scene.
What had truly unfolded was a family feud fuelled by greed and madness.
How could he not know?
Yet Moyonghun, bearing the cruel truth in his heart, faced the threat of losing his last miserable life without ever revealing it.
The assassins sent by his uncle were merciless. Like cornered beasts, they drove him to the brink, engraving despair in his blood-soaked body. He had long since passed his limits. There was no hope.
If only he could escape Liaoning and slip from his uncle’s grasp…
If the true demonic force controlling the Moyong family really existed, it could only be his newly ascended uncle.
If he could expose the truth of the mastermind…
The Jeongdom Alliance would surely take his side.
Clinging to that straw, he ran desperately.
But soon he realized…
Heaven was not on his side.
At the border from Liaoning to Hebei, deep in a forest untouched by humans, his uncle’s leech-like assassins pursued relentlessly.
In the end, Moyongcheong was the first to perish, followed by Moyongjeok. And why? Simply because Moyonghun had been born as his father’s child. Two lives sacrificed to protect a worthless younger relative.
Moyonghun would carry that as an eternal regret.
He should have been told to run.
He should have been abandoned, leaving the two to live.
But he lacked the courage.
So, in a remote, overgrown mountain valley, with no one else around, Moyonghun spent a torturous, breathless time regretting everything.
In the end, he blamed his uncle.
If there were an afterlife…
Then he would avenge everything, even if it cost him his all.
To restore his father’s honour, buried in filth; to settle the grievances of his siblings; and for Moyongcheong and Moyongjeok…
“Hhh…”
A sudden burst of sobs escaped him. Shaking with grief, Moyonghun realized something astonishing: the body that had felt frozen, unable to move even a finger, had regained freedom.
He had no idea how or why.
“Ah? Already awake?”
A strange voice pierced his ears.
Clear and ringing, a voice he had never heard before. Not that of a very young child, yet not fully mature either—perhaps someone around his own age, carrying a youthful tone.
“W-who…?”
