Chapter 37: I’m So Glad You’re My Older Brother
Swoosh.
Hugong drew his sword in his quarters.
‘As expected, it’s an excellent sword.’
The more he looked at it, the more he marveled.
It was the product of a craftsman’s effort and passion.
The sword gifted by Lord Cheolgeum was no less impressive than the three divine swords he already possessed: , , and .
He hadn’t accepted the sword out of some awkward gratitude for saving his life. If he hadn’t known Lord Cheolgeum’s long-standing intention to present him with a blade, he would have refused.
This sword must have been crafted specifically for him from the start.
A blade optimized for his swordsmanship.
The aged marks left on it? Perhaps they were meant to make it appear ancient, even if delivered late.
Flame. Swift. Close.
Retrieving the three beloved swords now was impractical.
No, reclaiming them wouldn’t be difficult with effort. But wielding them openly would invite trouble—endless explanations, accusations of theft, and becoming a fugitive.
‘I’ll recover them later. There’s too much to do now.’
First, he needed to consume Yeongakcho to elevate his martial realm.
Among his defensive techniques, only Jeonhyeol remained intact. Heoun and Tonggyeok were barely taking form. Without them, surviving true adversaries or crises would be impossible.
Dokyangchung also needed swift procurement.
Letters had already been sent to Dokmun, Yakwangmun, and the three great libraries—Cheongeumseogo and Nanhwaseogo alongside Cheonhwaseogo. Samak might be achieved sooner than expected.
And—
Hugong glanced at his sword.
‘I must assimilate this new one too……. Ahem, but what to name it?’
As he pondered, voices echoed outside—Yun and Bumong. Despite the distance, their endless griping and boisterous approach were unmistakable.
“Brother! Who knew Lord Cheolgeum could be so petty?”
“Bumong, you read my mind. He didn’t outright scorn our family, but bringing three swords to choose from? What was he thinking?”
“No doubt he manipulated Big Brother into picking the worst one. Shameless!”
Despite gifting a masterpiece, Lord Cheolgeum was being vilified by the brothers.
He was likely digging at his ears right now.
“Bumong, none of these recent gifts satisfy me. Seomun Sega’s one thing, but Daeryukjeonjang? Bringing Yeongakcho they can’t even use themselves?”
“Yukgangmang and Yeongakcho might be healthy, but I fear Big Brother’s body will rot. And Lord Cheolgeum’s ‘sword’ is just a metal lump!”
As their complaints neared, Hugong stepped out, sword in hand.
“Brothers. You’re here.”
“Brother! You’ve come out?”
“Big Brother! Our condolences for that… metal lump.”
Hugong’s brow furrowed.
“Metal lump? Bumong, what nonsense! This is a peerless divine sword! Its greatness is unmatched!”
“Divine… sword?”
“Watch.”
Hugong unsheathed the blade and swung it.
Whoosh~.
A fierce arc, as if swatting a fly.
“Hear that? The whoosh alone is extraordinary! Now, anyone who crosses me gets sliced!”
Whoosh~.
Bumong’s eyes welled up watching Big Brother’s enthusiastic display.
Even a worthless lump—yet Big Brother cherished it, honoring the giver’s sincerity……
“Big Brother, I’ll find you a true masterpiece!”
“Fool! Why can’t you grasp this is divine? Stop prattling and state your business!”
“Ah! Grandfather summons you.”
“Oh?”
Bumong added it concerned disciplining rebellion participants.
“Let’s go. I had matters to discuss too.”
Entering, they found their uncle already beside the family head.
After greetings, they settled in a circle.
The family head exchanged courtesies before beginning.
“Guilt must be weighed. Those coerced into the plot deserve redemption. Yet we cannot pretend nothing happened—expulsion suffices.”
The conspirators had been identified and verified.
The guard captains, already crushed, were sent to Seomun Sega—effectively dead. Most accomplices were dealt with.
The issue lay with those forced into compliance. The family head refused to execute them.
“Father speaks wisely.”
“I agree.”
“We’ll follow Grandfather’s will.”
The family head’s gaze lingered.
Amidst the consensus, his eldest grandson remained silent. Noticing his deep contemplation, the family head gently prodded:
“Child, do you dissent?”
This resolution owed entirely to the eldest grandson.
As commander, his clear decisions and unexpected prowess had transformed him from a liability to an indispensable pillar.
Any objection would carry weight—undoubtedly for Cheonhwaseogo’s sake.
Such absolute trust wasn’t the family head’s alone.
As all awaited his words, Hugong shook his head.
“No. This is proper.”
Hugong briefly considered severing their martial arts but relented, recalling pleading voices—Jong Mugeuk’s tearful plea:
—I’ll die a thousand times, but spare my wife and daughter.
Who could he blame?
Harshness wasn’t needed.
He himself had sparked this crisis.
The family head nodded, satisfied.
“Internal matters are settled. Next: the alliance. Proposed as the ‘Anhui Northern Alliance’ by Lord Baekhwa, several families have agreed. While goodwill aids crisis response, formalizing it ensures swifter cooperation. Your thoughts?”
‘An alliance. Lord Baekhwa proposed it first—perfect.’
Hugong had planned to broach this. Having another faction propose it let Cheonhwaseogo endorse gracefully. He smiled.
Recent events had aligned nearby factions. Filtering out lesser sects like Ogu Mun or Gwanghwimun would idealize it.
As Hugong mused, Bumong erupted:
“Grandfather! Full support! The Murim Alliance vanished when needed—useless! Let’s build our own!”
“I agree! Three months since Hugong’s ‘death,’ yet the Alliance’s branches remain idle. Where are their minds?”
Their uncle endorsed it too.
Hugong twitched at the mention but spoke:
“I concur. Seomun Sega’s threat isn’t over. Seomchu’s connections and in-laws’ backlash will come. Even internal power struggles there mean nearby families forming an alliance would deter rebels.”
The detailed analysis widened eyes.
The alliance’s significance—greater than imagined—and lingering dangers heightened vigilance.
Yet admiration surged too, especially from Yun and Bumong.
Big Brother, ever composed, always saw deepest—awe overwhelmed them.
“Additionally, the alliance requires one thing from our library.”
“What?”
The family head leaned forward.
“Formation techniques.”
“Formations…”
The family head trailed off, humming.
“Hmm… Several families have subtly requested this. I’ve given no definite answer.”
His hesitation was clear.
Hugong knew the concern—exposing secret techniques.
It was time to cast aside such timidity.
“Sharing formations brings profit and control. We’ll hold the key to every location’s access. Any incident in allied families? We respond effortlessly. Provide mid-tier formations, embedding hidden variables we can alter anytime. They follow set patterns; we control them freely.”
“…….”
“…….”
The family head gaped. Their uncle and brothers stared, slack-jawed.
The initial reluctance stemmed from fearing technique leaks.
But the heir proposed placing all factions under Cheonhwaseogo’s thumb—a masterstroke.
Depending on embedded variables, defensive formations could attack, disrupt, or trap.
Mental barriers crumbled.
They realized their clan’s power—greater, grander, deadlier than imagined.
“But misuse risks remain. Your thoughts?”
Ever the principled scholar, the family head voiced caution—only to meet his grandson’s smile.
“Do you intend to misuse them, Grandfather?”
“Never.”
“Then who? Uncle? These brothers?”
“Hah…”
The family head chuckled dryly, surveying the room.
His worry was pointless—not misuse, but whether they could even utilize them properly.
The chuckle was answer enough. Their uncle and brothers brimmed with emotion.
“Haha! Our clan might become the world’s greatest!”
Their uncle guffawed.
“I’m so glad you’re my brother.”
“Big Brother must always stand with us. Your resolve is astounding.”
The brothers swelled with pride.
‘Resolve…?’
Hugong stifled a laugh.
No surprise here—just the innocent sincerity of scholars lost in letters and learning.
