Chapter 35
The spiritual elixir he had hesitantly taken turned out to have an astonishing effect.
His inner energy grew exponentially, and before long, he reached the level of a supreme master, a realm he had once thought forever beyond his grasp — a realm where he could finally wield Sword Qi.
When that vivid crimson aura enveloped his sword, Namgung Hyuk’s eyes filled with blood-like tears.
The realization that he could finally manifest Sword Qi — something that came so naturally to the prodigies Namgung Seonyul and Namgung Jin — overwhelmed him with emotion.
Creating with his own hands the very Sword Qi he had only dreamed of before awakened in him a fervent, once-forbidden desire.
He wanted to surpass Namgung Seonyul, the towering tree he could never climb, by consuming more of the elixir.
But perhaps he had been too greedy — before he could even reach his brother’s level, he found himself cornered.
“Uncle, you’re misunderstanding something. Please, stop this now.”
Namgung Jin tried to persuade him.
It pained him deeply to see his uncle branded as a traitor.
“Stop? If I stop now, what do I have left?”
“……”
Namgung Jin knew the truth — the aura surrounding his uncle’s sword was demonic energy.
Not only had he made a deal with the Demonic Cult, he had even practiced demonic martial arts.
Namgung Seonyul would never forgive that — not even for family.
So Namgung Jin couldn’t bring himself to answer.
Namgung Hyuk stared at him with hollow, chaotic eyes.
It seemed the time had come to abandon his grand plan.
Even if the elixir from the Demonic Cult had made him stronger, his opponent was not just any soldier — he was Namgung Jin of the Three-Eyed Dragons.
And soon, the other household heads — even Namgung Seonyul himself — might arrive. Staying longer would only mean a meaningless death.
I have to retreat for now.
Resolving this, Namgung Hyuk spoke softly:
“Jin-ah, don’t you pity me? If you have even a shred of sympathy left, let me go.”
Namgung Jin couldn’t bring himself to say I can’t.
No matter how strained their relationship, this man had been his uncle since childhood.
Namgung Hyuk seized that brief moment of hesitation — and turned to flee using Light Step.
But at that instant—
A long sword shot through the window and pierced straight into his chest.
“Guh—!”
Namgung Hyuk fell to his knees, coughing blood.
Moments later, a man stepped through the broken wall from afar — the one who had thrown the sword.
“Father…”
It was Namgung Seonyul.
With a stony expression, he stood before the kneeling Namgung Hyuk.
“Hyuk-ah… why… why do I sense demonic energy from you?”
“Kuh… Brother…”
“Even when I heard rumors that you’d made deals with the Demonic Cult, I still wanted to believe in you — because we shared the same grief.”
“……”
“Have you forgotten how our youngest brother was slaughtered by their hands?”
Namgung Hyuk, bleeding, looked up at his brother — and suddenly burst into wild laughter.
“Hahaha! Forget that? Cough How could I ever forget?”
“Then why…?”
“Because I hated you more than the Demonic Cult that killed him.”
“What?”
“I hated you for despising me because I was weak. I hated you for locking me away in the Finance Hall.”
“That’s not true.”
“Everyone — everyone in the clan and the martial world — looked down on me! Pointed fingers, saying I was nothing compared to you and your son!”
“……”
“And I hated you for marrying Sister-in-law. I told you I liked her first!”
“That’s a misunderstanding. I never despised you for being weak. And you know well that the Finance Hall is an important position — unlike any other department.”
“Lies! You always told me I was weak. And tell me — who in this clan ever respects the head of the Finance Hall like they respect the Patriarch?”
“No one does. But that’s your greed speaking, Hyuk.”
“So you did look down on me!”
“…Haah. I’ll give you one last chance. Admit your wrongdoing, repent, and I’ll let you live the rest of your life in peace.”
“Hahaha! Repent? Even in death, I will not! No matter how you dress it up in fine words, in this clan — in this entire martial world — the only thing that truly matters is strength! And it wasn’t you, brother, but the Demonic Cult that made me strong. Tell me — who’s right now?”
“……”
Namgung Seonyul sighed sorrowfully.
Though his brother’s sins were grave, he still hadn’t wanted to take his life.
Then, a soft voice interrupted them.
“I never even knew you had feelings for me. To blame only the Patriarch when you never said a word yourself — that isn’t right.”
It was Seollin, who had followed Seonyul in.
“Sister-in-law…”
Namgung Hyuk looked at the two of them with eyes full of blood-red tears and resentment.
Soso watched it all — his anger, envy, and hatred pouring out without restraint.
Resentment. Inferiority. Jealousy.
Every negative emotion a man could harbor was boiling inside him like hellfire.
Those emotions blinded him, preventing him from accepting even the smallest kindness or truth from Seonyul or Seollin.
Whatever they said, he only twisted it into mockery.
Of course, Namgung Hyuk was the one most at fault.
But in a martial world that worshiped strength above all, one could imagine how much torment he must have felt — being born a direct descendant of the Namgung clan yet weak in martial skill.
People must have compared him to Namgung Seonyul endlessly, cruelly.
Those sharp comparisons and scornful fingers might have broken him — driven him to the Demonic Cult, where he lost himself completely.
“So everyone denies me, huh… Heh… Haha…”
“Hyuk-ah…”
“I hate you all. I hate you so much.”
He let out a strange sound — somewhere between laughter and sobbing — and then the light faded from his eyes.
Was he dead?
Just as that thought crossed their minds, Namgung Hyuk’s body began to twist unnaturally. His bent head lifted again.
When they met his eyes, he looked no different from the madmen Namgung Jin had faced earlier.
Namgung Seonyul drew his sword from his brother’s chest.
The raised blade trembled — poised for a final strike — but it hesitated.
“Grrr…”
Namgung Hyuk growled like a beast as his body convulsed.
“Hyuk-ah…”
Even as the madman lunged, no one moved.
Everyone held their breath, watching Namgung Seonyul.
Waiting for him to end it.
At last, Seonyul closed his eyes — faint tears welling beneath them.
His sword traced a graceful arc — and fell precisely.
Slash—
Namgung Hyuk’s head was severed cleanly. The gentle motion belied the lethal precision of the strike.
“Rest now. Let go of all resentment.”
Thump.
His head fell near Seonyul’s feet.
A heavy silence filled the room.
Namgung Seonyul couldn’t take his eyes off his brother’s lifeless body.
Though he had struck without hesitation, the sorrow of killing his own blood was unbearable.
Seollin grasped his trembling hand tightly, nodding softly as if to console him.
“Father… what about the madmen?”
“When half were cut down, I came here, fearing for you. The others should still be dealing with the rest. Come — let’s return.”
“Yes.”
Namgung Jin turned to Soso and Daewoo.
“Lady Baek, what will you do? Will you remain here to guard this place?”
Soso didn’t fully understand the situation, but she could tell the Namgung clan warriors were battling something dreadful.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Very well. Then hold onto me tightly.”
Namgung Jin lifted Soso lightly and used Light Step, darting away.
All that remained in the guest hall were Namgung Hyuk’s decapitated corpse and the peacefully sleeping Jegal Haesoo.
