The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 63

"Yes."

Cheongun responded without hesitation.

Though it was Seolhwa who had shown ambition, her will had become his own.

Now that he'd staked his life on it, Cheongun had no intention of backing down.

At his resolute reply, a glint flickered in Pungak’s eyes.

"Good. What you showed yesterday during the Heavenly Tiger Duel wasn’t bad. A few of the elders seemed to think so as well."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"But don’t assume you can make up for eight lost years all at once. That would be delusion, not resolve."

"I’m not under such an illusion. That’s precisely why I’ve come to see you, Elder."

"Hmm."

Pungak’s gaze turned razor-sharp.

If he had to describe it, he’d say he pitied Cheongun.

This was the man who, unable to protect his wife and daughter right before his eyes, had shut himself away in a dark room, rotting in guilt for nearly a month—slowly wasting away like a corpse.

What had finally pulled him back to his feet was the faintest possibility... that his daughter might still be alive.

Even that chance was paper-thin, nothing more than a sliver of hope born from the fact that no body had ever been found. And yet, Cheongun had clung to that thread and wandered the world like a madman, searching for her.

For eight long years.

Everyone had assumed she was dead. They saw his efforts as meaningless. But Cheongun had never given up. As long as his daughter’s existence kept him breathing, no one could stop him.

And after all those years, she had returned alive.

What father could possibly cast aside his daughter now?

“Just five days ago, you didn’t even seem remotely interested in the Clan Head position. What changed? Was it your daughter?”

“I can’t exactly say no.”

“Hahaha!”

“Honesty is a good trait, but there are times you should know when to lie.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Haha. I think I understand now why Mucheon has taken a liking to you.”

Pungak stroked his beard gently.

"The older one gets, the less one should speak. Then again, old men tend to talk too much. The more you know, the more you see—and once you’ve seen too much, your mouth itches until you can't hold it in."

"Is that so?"

“Most of the elders support Cheonghae.”

Cheongun’s lips tightened.

He already knew, of course. But hearing it directly from the Elder Council Head added an entirely different weight.

“People assume I’ve stayed silent because I don’t support either side. But in truth, the elders have already aligned themselves with Cheonghae. That’s practically a done deal.”

Cheongun lifted his gaze, meeting Pungak’s directly.

There had to be a reason the Elder was telling him this now, especially after he'd asked for support.

“Even as the head of the Elder Council, I can’t ignore the will of the elders. Silence and defiance are two very different things.”

"Yes, Elder."

“So why don’t you try shifting their hearts?”

Pungak held up three fingers.

“Thirty percent. Turn just thirty percent of them, and /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ I’ll handle the rest.”

Thirty percent.

Hearts weren’t something you could turn just because you wanted to. And hearts hardened over eight long years—those were nearly immovable.

But then again, people often changed course for the slightest reasons.

"Prove your worth in this Celestial Martial Rite. If you show that you're someone who can truly bear the weight of the Namgoong Clan, that thirty percent will come around easily."

“I’ll give it everything I have.”

"Confident, are you? Do you have some hidden card up your sleeve?"

Cheongun shook his head.

A faint curve lifted at the corner of his lips. It was a smile that resembled Seolhwa’s.

“I plan to start looking for one now.”

****

After finishing her training and returning to the pavilion, Seolhwa found two familiar figures waiting for her—one she recognized, the other unfamiliar.

“Miss Seolhwa!”

One was a maid who had treated her kindly back at the Celestial Guest Courtyard. The other—

‘A Peak Realm expert.’

The woman had her long hair tied back tightly. Her eyes were narrow and slanted slightly upward, giving her a sharp, rigid expression. A warrior, without question.

Judging by her uniform, she appeared to be a member of the Black Dragon Unit.

As the Black Dragon warrior stepped forward, she performed a martial salute and bowed deeply.

“Namgoong Ryeong, First Unit of the Black Dragon Corps. I pay my respects to Miss Seolhwa.”

“Gasp!”

The young maid beside her let out an audible gasp.

Though she had been standing next to the warrior while waiting for Seolhwa, the sheer pressure had kept her from saying a single word.

She had known the woman was a member of the Black Dragon Corps, but—

“F-First Unit...!”

The First Unit of the Black Dragon Corps. They were known within the Namgoong Clan as the strongest fighters, second only to the Windless Sword Division.

Each member was a Peak Realm martial artist. The unit formed the core of Namgoong’s military strength.

And now one of them had appeared before her eyes!

‘Miss Seolhwa must be shocked too, right?’

With that thought, the maid turned to glance at Seolhwa—only to find her face completely unreadable.

That left the maid feeling awkwardly deflated.

Seolhwa, unaware of the maid’s thoughts, addressed Namgoong Ryeong calmly.

“Did my grandfather send you?”

“Yes. I’ve been ordered to serve as your escort starting today.”

“I see.”

Seolhwa nodded flatly. Not a single word of welcome.

The maid beside her glanced back and forth between Seolhwa and the Black Dragon warrior, struggling to read the room.

The air was so cold it felt like it might freeze solid. Hurriedly, the maid introduced herself.

“M-Me too! I’ll be serving Miss Seolhwa starting today!”

Seolhwa’s gaze shifted to her.

“My name is Namgoong Yeoyul. I look forward to serving you, Miss Seolhwa!”

The beaming smile made Seolhwa briefly think of Yu Gang.

By now... had he already left the Namgoong estate?

Seolhwa brushed the thought aside and turned to the maid.

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"You were a maid at the Celestial Guest Courtyard, weren’t you?"

"I heard they were picking a new maid to serve you, so I applied right away! Hehe. You have no idea how much I missed you after you left."

She seemed scatterbrained, but being a maid at the Celestial Guest Courtyard in Namgoong meant she was among the most skilled of her class.

Yeoyul didn’t look more than a year or two older than Seolhwa.

Becoming a maid at the Guest Courtyard at such a young age meant she'd earned serious recognition. That likely explained why she'd been chosen to serve Seolhwa now.

“I’ll be counting on you.”

Seolhwa greeted her with a rare smile.

“Y-Yes, Miss...”

The stark contrast between Seolhwa’s reaction now and how she’d treated Namgoong Ryeong earlier left Yeoyul glancing nervously in Ryeong’s direction.

“Ah—oh, right! You’re starting sword training today, aren’t you, Miss?”

“I am.”

Starting today, Seolhwa would officially participate in Namgoong Clan’s sword training.

She couldn’t exactly claim she’d been trained by Namgoong Mucheon himself, so she planned to use her participation in the sword program as a convenient cover.

Besides, she was curious—this training included both direct descendants and the most talented branch members.

“Come on, let’s get moving! It’s your first day—you can’t be late!”

Yeoyul urged her along with surprising excitement.

Seolhwa looked at her with a slightly curious gaze. Somehow, Yeoyul seemed more thrilled than she was.

Still, she followed her into the pavilion.

Behind them, Namgoong Ryeong let out a long, slow sigh.

****

Thanks to Yeoyul’s unrelenting haste, Seolhwa was the first to arrive at the martial training hall.

This particular hall was the largest and most ornately decorated within the inner court.

Seolhwa couldn’t understand why a training ground needed to be fancy, but much like the training dorms, she could feel energy gathering densely throughout the space. It seemed some kind of special formation was at work.

As soon as they entered, Namgoong Ryeong silently moved to one side and stood there, expressionless as ever.

From the moment they’d met, Seolhwa had never once seen an emotion cross her face.

“Well, well. Look who it is.”

“...?”

A rowdy voice drew Seolhwa’s eyes to the entrance.

A group of about a dozen young disciples entered, led by none other than Namgoong Soryong.

“Sis!”

Namgoong Woong waved at her cheerfully. But—

“Who’s your sister, you idiot?! I told you not to act like you know her!”

“Ow—ow! That hurts, big bro!”

Soryong smacked him on the back of the head.

Snapping at his younger brother, Soryong then turned toward Seolhwa with a sneer stretched across his lips.

The other kids trailed in behind him.

‘Aside from Soryong and Woong, the rest must be from the branch families.’

Namgoong Hwarin was nowhere to be seen—likely still too young to train with the others.

While estimating the general age range of the group, Seolhwa caught Soryong snickering and walking toward her.

“Hey. You think this is the kind of place someone like you can just crawl into? We don’t take in beggars here.”

Seolhwa tilted her head slightly.

“Beggar? You’re calling me a beggar?”

“Yeah, who else would I be talking about? Is there another beggar around here besides you? Ugh, that stink. Where the hell have you been crawling around for eight years?”

Soryong pinched his nose and made a face.

The kids from the branch families all giggled on cue, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

‘So this is what it looks like—using your direct bloodline to lord over the others.’

Some of the branch kids looked stronger than Soryong at a glance, but still they went along with his childish games.

Well, that was to be expected in a bloodline-dominated clan.

‘Idiots.’

The one they should be trying to impress wasn’t him.

Seolhwa’s gaze slid over to Namgoong Woong, who was shifting uncomfortably nearby.

He was the only one in the group who hadn’t joined in Soryong’s bullying.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she read the flow of energy around him—clear and robust.

You could tell a martial artist by their energy.

Among this group, Woong was the one who best embodied Namgoong's signature aura.

“What, are you ignoring me now?!”

When Seolhwa didn’t respond, Soryong shoved her shoulder and shouted. But then—he froze.

‘What the—?!’

Why... why didn’t she budge?

He’d pushed with the clear intent to knock her over, but she hadn’t even flinched. It was like trying to shove a boulder.

“You, you—!”

“I stink, huh?”

Seolhwa stepped forward in one smooth stride.

“You’ve got a sharp nose, don’t you?”

“W-What are you talking about?!”

“How about now?”

Her face suddenly drew close.

Startled, Soryong instinctively stepped back. Again. And again.

She was smiling—but there was something in her smile that coiled around his throat, tightening with invisible pressure.

“Smells like a rotting corpse, doesn’t it?”