Return of the War King Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“I’ll kill that brat on the spot!”

Seeing his wife raging so furiously, Yucheon let out a long sigh. Their son had indeed been injured, but it was a wound sustained in a sparring match.

From Yuhwa and Yukyung, he learned the full story. The fault lay heavily with Cheonun. Even if he was born to a merchant family, as a martial artist, he should never have struck from behind.

And besides, wasn’t Gal Hyomyung supposed to be a first-rate martial artist?

Yucheon had once witnessed Gal Hyomyung’s skill. Even his wife had praised the man’s swordsmanship. Without a doubt, he was a first-class swordsman. And yet, it was said he had been subdued without being able to lift a finger.

‘Pathetic… absolutely pathetic.’

That was why suspicion took root.

Gal Hyomyung hadn’t even resisted, hadn’t even drawn his sword before being caught by the leg and tossed about, riddled with holes like some common thug on the street.

Still, that didn’t mean Gal Hyomyung wasn’t first-class. He was undeniably a first-class martial artist. And yet, his brother-in-law had beaten him senseless without reprieve.

Even accounting for mismatched styles or a moment of carelessness, could a true first-class martial artist really lose so miserably? That part gnawed at him. At the very least, it suggested a level beyond first-class… perhaps even super-first-class, or a peak master?

‘But if that’s the case—why?’

If it were a grand sect like Songho Sect, perhaps it could be explained. But Cheongyang was nothing more than a middling sect with no real renown. To think that someone at his age had reached peak mastery, and then handed over the position of sect leader to his younger brother—it was illogical, almost unthinkable.

‘He must have just been caught off guard.’

If people were told that the notorious wastrel of Songho Sect had become a peak master overnight, no one would ever believe such a tale.

‘Well, whatever the case…’

Yucheon glanced down at the box on the table. Inside lay the finest White Tiger Silver Needles. As gifts went, few could rival them.

And yet, unease prickled at his chest.

Father received the Millennium Ginseng.

Mother was given the Luminous Pearl.

The younger siblings were bestowed Precious Swords.

But him? He received only the White Tiger Silver Needles.

To anyone’s eyes, the treatment was unequal. Yet if he raised issue, he would only look like a petty man obsessed with gifts.

That, precisely, was what made it so infuriating.

He could not help but wonder if all this had been orchestrated with clear intent. If so, it was unlikely to have been the work of a reckless wastrel. Perhaps it was the clever younger sister pulling strings behind the scenes, manipulating his brother-in-law as a pawn.

That explanation felt the most convincing.

‘So she’d been sharpening her blade while pretending otherwise, had she?’

It struck him then—this was his younger sister’s revenge for having abandoned everything and leaving the clan.

Perhaps relinquishing the sect leader’s position had been nothing more than a ploy to target the Bomon Merchant Guild.

If he married in as a son-in-law, the pieces fit all too neatly. With gifts like Millennium Ginseng, Luminous Pearl, Precious Swords, and more, he had already won their favor. The goal was achieved.

‘Hooo…’

A deep exhale broke through his tangled thoughts.

I-yeong, having calmed her fury, regained her usual composed expression. By nature she was cool and rational, but when it came to her children, she was different.

“What do you plan to do? Like it or not, the fault lies with Cheonun.”

“I know. It’s not like I don’t. But once my family has been insulted, I can’t just let it go.”

“Gal Hyomyung was defeated. That means it won’t be easy.”

“My uncle is coming for the Young Dragon Tournamen.t He’ll side with the family.”

Yucheon understood his wife’s intent immediately.

It wasn’t just about their son being hurt—she meant to crush their spirits completely. To make sure they never dared covet the merchant guild again. Such was human fickleness. Just hours earlier, he had pitied his younger sister… but now, that sympathy was gone.

****

Three days had passed since the duel.

Mujin took his wife and children on a stroll around the Bomon Merchant Guild district. For his wife, who had once visited the restaurants and markets in the area, the return seemed to stir nostalgia.

At the market, he bought Tae-jin and Mi-joo each something they wanted. True to her nickname as a “Candy Assassin”, Mi-joo immediately devoured sweets one after another, making her mother frown. She knew all too well the pain that awaited from rotting teeth.

After finishing their sword form practice, Yukyung and Yuhwa also joined them. Together, they hitched a carriage and enjoyed a picnic-like outing.

“Brother-in-law, I’ll admit… I was honestly a little shocked back then.”

“You’re shocked by that? Come now—you’re the descendant of a martial family. That much is just the basics.”

“But Gal Hyomyung is a first-class martial artist. That’s too high to just call ‘basic,’ isn’t it?”

“Not all first-class martial artists are equal. When a fake faces the real deal, the truth is revealed. Up till now, he was just riding on luck.”

Both Yuhwa and Yukyung realized they had to reassess their brother-in-law. And this was separate from the fondness they felt after being given swords. They had thought their sister suffered, married to a man infamous as the wastrel of Songho Sect.

But lo and behold, their sister’s face never seemed to lose its smile. That smug, almost boastful expression—“How do you like my husband?”—was just a bit irritating. But in truth, the two of them were a perfect match. No wonder their behavior mirrored each other so closely.

“Unnie said you even cook yourself?”

“I dabble in cooking, yes.”

“And you even do the housework?”

“What does it matter who does it? Whoever has time should. If you divide chores rigidly by gender, it only leads to endless conflict later.”

Yuhwa and Yukyung clicked their tongues.

Most people thought lightly of household chores, but in reality, it wasn’t so trivial. The majority of men dismissed cooking and housework as things that naturally fell to the wife. They themselves had been raised with that belief. But their brother-in-law shattered that mold entirely. He was free of convention. He even treated the children without restraint, like friends.

‘Then what about back then…?’

‘With Father, too…’

The way he slammed Gal Hyomyung to the ground, and the way he spoke with Father so gravely—those were two entirely different faces. It was a kind of overwhelming presence. Wild and forceful, almost primal. She had seen her father flinch several times. That had never happened before. It was like standing before a known absolute master.

Of course, their thoughts were running too far. To compare him to an absolute master? That was absurd.

‘So what if he’s just a woodcutter? Or not?’

‘As long as Unnie is happy, that’s all that matters. Honestly, I’m a bit jealous.’

So Yuhwa and Yukyung didn’t press the matter further. Everyone lived differently, and a modest life was not something to be dismissed.

Happiness, after all, was the true measure of success.

“Still… I worry about Oppa.”

“I told him the truth, so I hope he doesn’t misunderstand.”

“Even in the past, Oppa always had an inferiority complex toward Unnie.”

“Well, it can’t be helped. Being next to a genius is bound to be misery.”

If you had an outstanding younger sibling, the less-gifted elder always suffered. To say there was no jealousy or envy would be a lie. But family was family. If he ever crossed the line, it would be unforgivable.

“Oh my, aren’t you favoring her a little too much?”

“My wife is a genius. That’s not favoritism—it’s fact.”

Mujin never hesitated to boast about his wife. Even if the subject was her own brother, he saw no reason to hide the truth behind false modesty.

That was why, so there would be no misunderstanding, he made sure to explain everything in front of his father-in-law, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law. He laid out the duel between his son and Gal Hyomyung exactly as it had happened. Above all, he firmly stated that his wife had no interest in the merchant guild. He refused to let anyone suspect that she might secretly covet it.

“You didn’t have to be so explicit.”

“No, I had to. Misunderstandings grow heavier with time. And my wife will eventually reveal her genius. Comparisons are inevitable. For a man like Brother-in-law, that’ll only deepen his sense of inferiority.”

“Oppa wouldn’t misunderstand things to that extent.”

“But what about the Gwak Clan?”

At Mujin’s blunt question, Yuhwa and Yukyung were left speechless. They never imagined he would say something so outright.

Normally, even if such thoughts existed, this kind of uncomfortable topic was kept unspoken. But their brother-in-law showed no hesitation.

Should they call it boldness? Or fearlessness? They couldn’t decide. Yet, carried by the natural confidence that radiated from him, they found themselves unconsciously swayed.

“You actually know about the Gwak Clan?”

“Enough.”

It wasn’t something worth knowing in his eyes. A tiny, insignificant clan wasn’t worth his notice. Still, he offered a token courtesy in reply.

In truth, to Mujin, the House of Gwak was like dust that could be blown away by a single breeze. No one counts the individual grains of dust.

—To treat people like dust, and then tell them not to get angry? What kind of dog-shit logic is that.

‘If you don’t want a beating, then even if you’re treated like dog-shit, you’d better not get angry.’

—Hmph. Fair point.

‘I don’t say things that are wrong.’

—That dog-shit clan isn’t even worth stepping on.

‘Still, why do you always compare everything to dog-shit? You’re supposed to be a Demonic King—talk like one!’

—And you?

‘Forget it.’

For once, the Demonic King and the War King, who usually disagreed on everything, found themselves in rare agreement. Yet their perspective remained completely detached from common sense. It was the difference in worldview that only absolute powers possessed.

‘The Demonic Cult would at least be worth my time.’

—It’s not at that level yet.

‘Oh? So now you’re defending it just because it’s your old sect?’

—Watch your mouth. There are things you can say, and things you can’t!

‘Why aren’t they moving yet?’

—Don’t change the subject. Stop pretending to look when you’re not. Anyone watching would think you were searching diligently.

‘What’s the point of searching? They’ll come eventually anyway.’

Mujin deliberately brought up an issue that might trouble his wife. Better to be troubled once than to let things pile up until they became irreparable. The beginning was always important, and handling it well mattered most. If one wrapped things up sloppily, it only planted seeds of disaster.

—But will it really pass without issue?

‘Unlike merchants, martial artists only understand their place once they’ve been trampled underfoot. Until then, they wouldn’t realize it even if they died and came back.’

—I’ll grant you that.

‘If they come, then I’ll make them understand.’

—So you never intended to live in hiding, then.

‘When did I ever say I’d live in hiding?’

Patience and restraint were easy to say, but hard to practice. Mujin had tried to amend his past mistakes, but as long as he remained within the martial world, he knew he could never fully escape it.

A man who lives by the sword is bound to make enemies. To say otherwise would be a lie.

The sword was nothing less than a chain linking grudges together. To think one could live quietly while others drew blades around them was foolish. If that were the goal, one might as well retreat deep into the mountains and never return.

And Mujin’s prediction proved correct.

No sooner had they returned from the picnic than a message arrived. Since it was a family affair, they gathered in the wide courtyard within the Bomon Merchant Guild. Already present were his father-in-law, brother-in-law, and sister-in-law.

But the true matter at hand stood before them in the form of a towering man. His sharp eyes and solidly built frame radiated through the martial robes he wore.

“My name is Gwak Cheolung.”

“Kang Mujin.”

Gwak Cheolung was the younger brother of Gwak Cheolyong, lord of the Gwak Clan and wielder of the Heaven-Shaking Sword.

He himself bore the sobriquet Thunderforce Sword and was renowned as one of the clan’s foremost swordsmen.

But the achievement of his Lightning Sword techniques couldn’t compare to Gal Hyomyung. The gap between them was like that between an adult and a child.

Kang Mujin, however, was unmoved. A man once hailed with the title of King, why would the “Thunderforce Sword” impress him? Often, insects clung more desperately to fame than true masters ever did.

Twitch—!

Sure enough, Gwak Cheolung’s brow furrowed at the tepid response. He had hoped to provoke a reaction, but it wasn’t working. Still, if his opponent was ignorant of the martial world, that much could be excused.

But Mujin wasn’t one for idle words. His time and the time of such riffraff existed on entirely different planes.

“Do you want a duel?”

“That’s right.”

“Then let’s begin.”

“You won’t even ask why?”

“The reason’s obvious. No need to waste breath. A martial artist should use his martial arts, not his tongue.”

“Hah! Refreshingly straightforward. Too bad for you—you’re unlucky today.”

There was no need for more. Mujin and Gwak Cheolung immediately entered the duel. Explanations and accusations would only sour tempers further. At times like this, nothing settled matters better than a clean fight.

“I’ll give you three seconds.”

“Much obliged.”

But Mujin was not the sort to grant concessions. He dropped into stance and charged forward, unleashing the Frontline Step, a movement technique of the vanguard meant not merely to break an opponent’s momentum but to shatter their entire formation.

PAAANG!

The strike tore through the air like a spearhead.

“—What?!”

In an instant, the two-zhang distance collapsed. Startled by the unimaginable speed, Gwak Cheolung reflexively swung his sword.

But he was too late.

Mujin had already launched the Superhuman Flying Fist—a technique he had favored in his days as the War King. It was devastating against those blinded by pride and vanity. While not particularly practical, for its speed came at the cost of leaving wide arcs and openings, it worked perfectly on a distracted opponent.

And right now, Gwak Cheolung was caught wide-eyed.

THUD!

The punch drove into his solar plexus, folding his upper body forward. His sturdy body and inner strength alone couldn’t withstand such power.

“Kuuhh—!”

Without pause, Mujin drove his knee upward into his opponent’s face.

CRACK!

---The End Of The Chapter---

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