TSBIRBV Ch 284

Chapter 284. Cause and Effect (10)

The rebuke was spoken softly, yet its sharpness cut like frost. Namgung Un, his face pale, pressed his hands together and bowed deeply.

“Father.”

The middle-aged man standing before him bore a striking resemblance to Namgung Un, though his aura carried far more weight and gravity. His right sleeve hung empty, the arm long gone.

This was Namgung Akcheon, known throughout the world as the Heaven-Piercing Sword King, one of the Ten Great Swordsmen of his era—and Namgung Un’s father.

“I didn’t know you had come.”

“I hadn’t planned to. But after hearing something I could not overlook, I took the time to come to Wuhuan… only to find you in such a disordered state.”

“…I am ashamed.”

Namgung Un bowed his head low.

“Put down your sword. Can you not hear it screaming?”

The blade in his hand was trembling violently, humming in protest. He had forced his internal energy into it without restraint, causing it to cry out under the pressure. Had Namgung Akcheon arrived even a little later, the blade might have shattered.

With a soft gasp, Namgung Un released his grip from the hilt.

Realizing he had nearly destroyed his lifelong companion—the sword he had tamed and trained with for years—his expression clouded with sorrow.

“Come here.”

At his father’s gentle command, Namgung Un stepped forward and knelt. Namgung Akcheon sighed quietly and reached out his left hand, helping his son rise.

“I never told you to kneel.”

“The Namgung Clan’s internal technique carries thunder within it. When cultivating, one must never let go of their heart, but I failed to restrain mine just now. I beg forgiveness from the head of the clan.”

Namgung Un kept his head bowed, unable to meet his father’s eyes.

“…I wonder whom you take after to be so rigid.”

Namgung Akcheon clicked his tongue, looking over his son. When he had been Un’s age, he himself had been an arrogant young master who thought he was the greatest man alive. His son, however, though bearing his exact face, was far more steady, mature, and deliberate.

“What is it that troubles you so deeply?”

“I have learned that a friend attending this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament has been unjustly treated.”

“Unjustly?”

“He quarreled with another contestant, and though he was the one attacked, he was the only one imprisoned.”

“And the other party?”

“Eon Chaegwol is currently in seclusion at the Jinju Eon Clan’s estate in Wuhuan.”

Namgung Un made no effort to conceal the man’s name. Hearing that the Jinju Eon Clan was involved, Namgung Akcheon’s brow furrowed slightly.

“I also heard that his qualification for the tournament is to be revoked. It’s unfair.”

Namgung Un’s gaze fell to the ground. The image of Je Haryang surfaced in his mind—the man who had smiled coldly before standing and leaving.

‘Pardon me first.’

He hadn’t said where he was going or what he planned to do, but Namgung Un knew clearly enough: Je Haryang intended to move against the Martial Alliance and free Yegyeol.

“What do you intend to do?”

Namgung Akcheon’s tone was calm, but his words carried weight.

“Surely, there is more you can do than just swing your sword in frustration.”

“…I plan to mobilize both the Sky-Gazing Swift Unit and the Shadow Wing Division.”

The answer was already determined. Namgung Un had no intention of standing idly by while an innocent man was condemned, even if that man were not Yegyeol.

“This means going against the Jinju Eon Clan. As the heir of the Namgung family, are you prepared to bear that responsibility?”

The stern tone carried the unspoken warning: If you cannot handle it, do not proceed.

“The Jinju Eon Clan has long coveted a place among the Five Great Houses. They’ve been waiting for a chance to drag down the Namgung Clan or any of the others. I think it’s not a bad idea to break them now.”

“Wrong.”

Namgung Akcheon shook his head.

“I’ve told you countless times—when you make an enemy out of a stranger, you must make a friend at the same time. Now, tell me—who is your ally in this matter?”

Namgung Un fell silent. His sharp eyes flickered once before he finally spoke.

“Sichuan… the Tang Clan. The Jinju Eon Clan dragged the Tang Clan’s young master into this to frame the contestant. If we reveal the connection, it will turn the tide.”

Though Sichuan was far from Anhui, the prestige of the Tang Clan could not be ignored. It would be more than enough to suppress the Jinju Eon Clan.

“Good.”

A faint smile curved Namgung Akcheon’s lips.

“Thank you for your guidance.”

“You found the answer yourself. As a reward for your clarity, I’ll grant you the use of the clan’s personal division—the Dark Flame Unit—alongside the Swift Unit and Shadow Wing Division.”

“That’s… far too much…”

Namgung Akcheon reached out with his remaining hand and ruffled his son’s neatly tied hair.

“I’ll admit, even I find this Je Haryang fellow rather interesting.”

At that, Namgung Un fell silent.

According to the old beggar, the real Je Haryang—the man whose name Yegyeol had borrowed—had lived during his father’s youth.

It wasn’t hard to imagine that the two had met at a past Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.

Then, was that “interest” his father mentioned born of respect—or of animosity?

It seems Father means to help Young Master Mun… but what will he do if he learns that the true Heavenly Demon stands behind him?

As the Namgung Clan’s power was now being set in motion, the flow of information would inevitably reach his father. Namgung Un knew he would have to tread carefully.

He didn’t want to think it, but if his father had played any part in burying the name “Je Haryang,” he could not turn a blind eye.

If that were true…

Then he could never again look upon his father with the same respect.

“Your gaze looks far too sentimental. What, your father isn’t dead yet, you know.”

Namgung Akcheon clicked his tongue again.

His son had grown well—perhaps too well. He was too serious, too heavy-minded in everything he did. If he’d been more arrogant, perhaps a fall or two might have taught him humility. But Namgung Un had never once failed, always soaring higher with every challenge.

The thought worried him. When the fall finally came, it would hurt far worse than for anyone else. That was simply the way of things—and the worry of a father.

“I’ll take my leave, Father.”

Namgung Un bowed and rose to his feet. He intended to meet Tang Segi the very next morning.

When he arrived at the inn where Yegyeol was being held, he stumbled upon a strange scene.

“Let me go!”

A massive man—built like a tiger—was shaking Tang Segi by the waist as though he were a sack of rice.

The half-black, half-white hair made it clear—this was the Beast King, Peng Munhyeong.

“So this is where the brat went! I get that the Martial Alliance took him for questioning and locked him up. Fine, I’ve been there myself a few times in my day!”

He spoke as he gently pried Tang Segi off him. Despite his brutish size and booming voice, he handled the young man carefully, though his mouth never stopped.

“But still not letting him go? Meanwhile, that damned Eon brat is sitting comfortably in his mansion, eating well and sleeping warm? I swear, if I get my hands on them—!”

Tang Segi, still clinging desperately to Peng Munhyeong’s leg, looked ready to burst into tears. If the man hadn’t shown restraint, Segi would’ve been flung halfway across the courtyard by now. If only Hongyeo, who matched the Beast King’s size, were here—he could’ve helped—but he was nowhere to be seen.

No doubt he was off somewhere, trying to plead on behalf of his imprisoned companion, Young Master Mun.

“Look, I know it’s unfair, but… the investigation into Young Master Mun’s case isn’t even about the brawl in the tournament camp!” Tang Segi pleaded, still gripping Peng’s leg.

The size difference was absurd—every time Peng shook his leg, Tang Segi was tossed around like a leaf. Yet somehow, he refused to let go. Truly, no one could outmatch the stubbornness of Sichuan’s Tang Clan.

“You’re as tenacious as ever, aren’t you? Still trying to stop me, even now.”

Peng Munhyeong furrowed his thick brows. Even the sound of his tongue clicking made Tang Segi flinch slightly.

“But… charging into the Martial Alliance’s main gates won’t solve anything,” Tang Segi protested, shaking his head.

“We need to figure out who’s pulling the strings. Did the Alliance side with the Jinju Eon Clan out of fear, or is someone else behind this? It’s hard to gather information here in Wuhuan.”

“Too far from Hebei, huh… tch. If only my younger brother were nearby.”

Peng clicked his tongue again. Honestly, he preferred the straightforward approach—storming in and making noise. When things got big enough, the guilty ones always came crawling out. And then he could simply beat the truth out of them.

“I think I can help with that.”

Namgung Un’s voice cut in suddenly. Normally, he would have greeted Peng Munhyeong with the courtesy due to an elder of equal rank to his father, but this was not the time.

“Young Master Namgung!”

Tang Segi’s face lit up with relief at the sight of him—a welcome return to reason amid chaos.

“So you’re the Namgung heir… Akcheon’s boy.”

“Namgung Un of the Namgung Clan greets the great warrior Peng Munhyeong.”

“Skip the pleasantries. You said you could help—how?”

“I can provide the information you need.”

“You mean to join us in this?”

Tang Segi looked at him, eyes wide. Namgung Un nodded firmly.

“Of course. And I’ll need your help as well, Young Master Tang.”

“M-my help? What can I even do?”

His shoulders shrank, betraying his uncertainty. Namgung Un’s tone, however, was unwavering.

“Surely the Tang Clan cannot allow itself to be accused of distributing poison to outsiders. We must clear your name.”

At that, Tang Segi’s expression sobered immediately.

The Tang Clan was a unique house. Though their mastery of poison bordered on the demonic, they held a proud position within the righteous sects.

If rumors spread that they sold or used poison for sinister purposes, their standing would be ruined. It was precisely because of that risk that the Tang Clan had always guarded their poisons with utmost care.

Namgung Un, believing he’d made his point, turned to Peng Munhyeong.

“I’ve already asked the former Grand Elder of the Beggar’s Union for help. He’s looking into the matter now—we should soon know the truth.”

“Good! The Namgung Clan really doesn’t mess around. Once we know who’s behind this, I’ll deal with them myself. Let’s go.”

“Wait.”

Namgung Un reached out and stopped him mid-stride. His voice was steady and deliberate.

“There’s one more person we must persuade first.”