Martial Arts Ain't That Big of a Deal

Chun-bong, who had asked to talk, started walking without a word. Seo-jun followed her.

They stopped in the open courtyard.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Chun-bong turned around, locking eyes with Seo-jun. Her expression was rigid.

“...Oppa.”

“Yeah?”

Chun-bong hesitated, pressing her lips together before exhaling deeply.

“Are you... okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think I’ve only known you for a day or two?”

Chun-bong stepped forward, reaching out with both hands. She pressed Seo-jun’s cheeks, squishing them as she pulled his face closer.

Her wide eyes sparkled inches away from his.

“Relax your face. You’ve been too on edge lately.”

“...Are people uncomfortable with it?”

“That’s none of my business.”

Chun-bong leaned her forehead against his.

“Smile.”

“Out of nowhere?”

“Damn it, just do it.”

So he did. He pulled the corners of his mouth into a smile.

Chun-bong huffed out a breath.

“Good.”

“What was that for?”

“Don’t let your emotions consume you. I’m giving you advice as someone with experience.”

Seo-jun clamped his mouth shut.

"Someone with experience," she said—he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“I know it’s hard. You act like you don’t care, but you feel things deeply.”

“Do I?”

“You do. You respected the Patriarch a lot.”

Chun-bong patted his cheeks, then squeezed them, making his lips pucker like a fish.

“Don’t bottle everything up and get sick. If it’s too much, come to me.”

“Mmph... Chun-bong.”

“Seo-brat, if you don’t want to die, don’t say dumb shit right now.”

“...Got it.”

Seo-jun chuckled.

Then, without warning, Chun-bong leaned in and kissed him.

“Now, go back to Sua-noona. She needs you.”

“Alright.”

So mature.

Seo-jun ruffled Chun-bong’s hair, making a mess of it.

Chun-bong scowled, smacking his backside a couple of times.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Mm.”

Seo-jun watched her retreating figure.

The turmoil in his chest eased, just a little.

"I’m lucky."

Lucky to have someone to ground him.

With Chun-bong by his side, all he had to do was keep moving forward.

A faint smile spread across Seo-jun’s lips.

Sunlight filtered through his eyelids.

Seo-jun opened his eyes—only to meet a pair of blue ones staring right at him.

“You’re awake?”

When Seo-jun smiled, Namgung Sua gave a faint smile in return.

“...Yeah.”

It wasn’t a bright smile.

She forced herself up.

“This isn’t the time to be lying around...”

With Namgung Jincheon’s death, the entire clan was busy.

As a direct descendant, Namgung Sua had many responsibilities to handle.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Seo-jun got up and picked up Namgung Jincheon’s sword from the table.

The broken blade had been pieced back together. He ran a finger over the fractured edge.

The blade smoothed out, as if it had never been broken.

Seo-jun sheathed the sword and walked over to Namgung Sua.

—Wuuung—

The sword let out a clear hum.

"A sword used by a man who was nearly divine."

It wouldn’t be strange if it had retained some of that power.

Seo-jun handed the sword to Namgung Sua.

As she took it, the sword hummed again, as if pleased.

“Don’t worry about the clan or what comes next.”

“...But everyone’s busy. I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“Hmm...”

It wasn’t a bad thing to stay occupied.

Sometimes, moving your body helped ease a troubled mind.

After a moment of thought, Seo-jun took her hand and led her outside.

“Then let’s go see Myeong.”

“Ah...”

Namgung Sua blinked, then nodded.

“...Alright.”

Among the Sixteen Noble Houses, a Patriarch’s authority was absolute.

Their status was higher than even emperors of the mortal world.

Naturally, their funerals were grand affairs.

There was much to prepare, and Namgung Myeong, as the new Patriarch, was swamped with work.

Fortunately, the clan elders assisted him, giving him at least a little breathing room.

“Hyung-nim, Noona.”

Dressed in white mourning robes, Namgung Myeong greeted them.

It had only been a day, yet the dark circles under his eyes had deepened.

A martial artist of Namgung Myeong’s caliber wouldn’t look this worn out from mere exhaustion.

It was the emotional toll.

Seo-jun gave a bitter smile and patted his shoulder.

“You’ve worked hard.”

“It’s nothing. It’s my duty.”

Seo-jun glanced at the documents scattered across the desk.

Mostly letters—condolences from visiting guests.

He alternated glances between Namgung Sua and Namgung Myeong before asking,

“Anything I can do? I suck at paperwork, but if you need muscle, I’ve got plenty.”

“I’m fine for now. But...”

Namgung Myeong’s gaze flickered to the letters.

“Once the mourners start arriving, things might get complicated.”

The Namgung Clan had been a proud member of the Sixteen Noble Houses—back when Namgung Jincheon was alive.

But now, they had no Harmonious Realm master.

The elders of the previous generation had all retreated into seclusion.

The closest thing they had now was Namgung Hyeok, who was merely on the cusp of that ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) realm.

Their forces were still strong compared to other houses, but the reality was clear—a sect’s status was defined by its strongest warrior.

Seo-jun and Pae Jin-gwang were here, but they were still outsiders.

No matter what the Namgung Clan thought of them, others would always see them that way.

The scavengers who had kept their heads down while Namgung Jincheon was alive...

They would bare their fangs now.

"No, they will bare them."

That was simply human nature.

Namgung Myeong smiled bitterly.

“If that happens, I’ll have to ask for your help.”

“Don’t even mention it. It’s only natural.”

Seo-jun smirked.

“And honestly, this might actually be a good thing.”

Namgung Myeong frowned.

“...A good thing?”

“It’ll help us sort things out.”

Enemies and allies.

It was an extreme distinction, but clear-cut lines made things easier.

“We just wait, let them show their true colors...”

Seo-jun’s red eyes glowed.

“...and once we’ve seen enough, we cut them all down.”

A strange light flickered in Seo-jun’s eyes. His crimson gaze burned.

Seeing the bloodthirst behind that gaze, Namgung Myeong swallowed dryly.

Seo-jun continued.

“Any bastard who might bring harm to Namgung needs to be crushed at the root.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Remember the ones who crawl out of the woodwork. No need for names, just their sects.”

“Isn’t that... excessive?”

Seo-jun’s words meant one thing—he intended to erase those sects completely.

No matter how powerful the Namgung Clan was, doing something like that would bring massive backlash.

“You think so?”

Seo-jun scratched his chin.

“Then just pick out the most suspicious ones.”

After all, if necessary, Baek Seo-jun could handle them.

No need to stain the Namgung Clan’s name.

Namgung Sua stayed behind to assist Namgung Myeong in his office.

Seo-jun would have liked to keep an eye on her a bit longer, but he had things to do.

"Before the funeral, I should at least take care of the Sword Sect."

That was the bare minimum he could do to honor his father-in-law.

Seo-jun left the clan and headed north—toward Hebei.

More precisely, the Martial Alliance, which sat on the northern banks of the Yellow River, straddling the border between Henan and Hebei.

Without a word, he tore through the Martial Alliance’s barriers and made his way to the meeting hall.

When he pushed open the doors unannounced, he found Jegal Tong inside.

Unlike before, the hall was nearly empty.

Only a few individuals were speaking with Jegal Tong.

“...You are...?”

One middle-aged man’s expression shifted strangely.

Jegal Tong let out a bitter smile and gestured to Seo-jun.

“Have a seat.”

Seo-jun silently took his place.

The middle-aged man glanced between Jegal Tong and Seo-jun before speaking.

“Jin Gi-jaecheon?”

Jegal Tong nodded.

“That’s correct, Elder Peng.”

“So it is you. I’ve heard a lot. My name is Peng Chusan.”

Peng Chusan grinned.

Seo-jun simply stared at him.

Jegal Tong awkwardly laughed as he made introductions.

“Elder Peng isn’t officially part of the Martial Alliance, but he’s provided a great deal of support, both here and to the Peng Clan.”

The Peng Clan of Hebei—one of the Sixteen Noble Houses.

Seo-jun frowned and tapped his fingers against the table before finally speaking.

“Namgung Clan’s Elder, Lee Seo-jun.”

Martial alliances, righteous factions—what did any of it even mean?

When the Jin Clan was annihilated, when Namgung Jincheon fell into a trap—none of that had mattered.

Seo-jun openly clicked his tongue and turned to Jegal Tong.

“You’ve heard the war reports.”

“Yes. I understand that Elder Lee has made significant contributions to the battle near the Gilyeon Sect and Sword Sect.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

A faint red light glowed in Seo-jun’s eyes as he locked gazes with Jegal Tong.

The strategist swallowed.

“As the Supreme Strategist of the Martial Alliance, you should be more experienced in strategy than I am.”

Losing to Sama Hyun in a battle of wits still gnawed at Seo-jun, but ultimately, Jegal Tong held the title of Supreme Strategist.

He was bound to be more adept at tactical warfare.

If he could help bring down the Black Lotus Union, there was no reason not to seek his counsel.

Jegal Tong, steadying his breath under Seo-jun’s piercing stare, finally spoke.

“To be frank... If the Harmonious Realm martial artists truly take the field, this war will change dramatically.”

“They haven’t taken the field yet?”

“Not really. If they do, this conflict will spiral into an all-out war.”

The current balance of power relied on a system of deterrence.

Harmonious Realm warriors on both sides occupied key positions, countering each other’s influence.

Rear-guard Harmonious Realm masters provided support to their sects rather than fighting on the frontlines.

“But if the war escalates, the rear-guard masters will be forced to move as well.”

To martial artists, their sects were paramount.

No matter how grand the names "Martial Alliance" or "Black Lotus Union" sounded, in the end, warriors would always prioritize their own sects.

That was why Harmonious Realm warriors rarely left their positions.

But rear-guard masters—those with fewer obligations—could reinforce the frontlines.

“Since high-level enemies rarely penetrate deep into enemy territory, those stationed at the rear have more freedom to act.”

This was also why Seo-jun could leave the Namgung Clan temporarily.

No sane Harmonious Realm martial artist would dare march into Anhui.

“So, bottom line—are the Black Lotus Union’s Harmonious Realm masters about to come out of hiding?”

“...I can’t say for certain.”

Seo-jun frowned.

Jegal Tong quickly continued.

“They’ve already lost four Harmonious Realm warriors. If they’re rational, they’ll focus on defense...”

But there was no guarantee.

Jegal Tong admitted it outright.

Sama Hyun was simply a step ahead of him.

“Honestly, if Namgung Jincheon hadn’t turned the tide, the righteous factions might have collapsed.”

Seo-jun closed his eyes without a word.

He didn’t show any outward reaction.

But the air in the hall grew heavy, pressing down on everyone’s shoulders.

“Just tell me which targets I should hit to wipe out the Sword Sect.”

“Of course.”

Jegal Tong took his time explaining the overall strategy.

Seo-jun listened carefully and found the plan reasonable.

It was a solid method for dismantling the Sword Sect’s forces.

“Then let’s do that.”

If things went off track, he would simply force them back into place with brute strength.

Seo-jun left the Martial Alliance.

In the following days, rumors of a terrifying figure spread across the battlefield.

A martial artist drenched in the blood of the unorthodox factions.

With a single gesture, dozens—hundreds—of warriors were reduced to piles of mangled flesh.

So many died that their corpses were beyond recognition.

“That’s no human... That’s a demon drunk on blood...!”

Both enemies and allies alike whispered his name in fear.

Thus, his title was born—

"Myeolsa Cheon-gun."

The Heavenly Lord Who Annihilates Evil.