Camellia 108

No man with any sense would ever let his children realize his sins.

Seolyeong vividly recalled the moment when Si Pungwoob, overcome with rage, had shouted those words. The furious voice, denouncing the pervert of the Namgung clan and explaining what it meant to be “tainted,” still rang in his ears.

Troubled, Seolyeong finally spoke.

“Did you choose to fight Namgung Wook in the preliminaries… to punish Namgung Yuhyeon for his crimes?”

Was that why Tang Yujae had allowed himself to be evaluated as the weakest among the upper-ranked fighters? The suspicion gnawed at him. His thoughts were in disarray.

When Seolyeong had first heard Si Pungwoon’s words, he’d felt outraged that the righteous faction had failed to address such horrors within their own ranks. Even though he apologized in the righteous faction’s stead, he still questioned whether words alone were enough to bring closure.

Trying to dig deeper, Seolyeong asked again.

“Are you punishing the son to pressure the father?”

Tang Yujae didn’t answer immediately. After a brief pause, he calmly said,

“If the man were capable of feeling guilt, he wouldn’t have gotten addicted to burying people alive.”

His words cut deep. His gaze, dark and heavy, settled on Seolyeong.

“In any case, it’s not something you need to concern yourself with. Focus on preparing for your match, Ahyeong.”

That left no room for further questions. Yujae laid back on the bed, as if to end the conversation entirely. When he asked if Seolyeong wanted to join him, Seolyeong shook his head so hard it made his vision spin.

Back in his own room, hugging a soft pillow, Seolyeong muttered in a worried tone.

“…He’s not actually going to kill Namgung Wook, is he?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to chase away the intrusive thoughts. What mattered now was getting through the tournament safely. For that, he needed to stay focused.

But Si Pungwoon’s anguished voice and Dang Yujae’s ominous mood lingered in his mind, making sleep impossible. It wasn’t just because the sun was still high in the sky.

Seolyeong knew for certain now that he wouldn’t be able to sleep before the preliminaries.

The way Sahyeol Amje seemed to involve himself in the affairs of the righteous sects, it made him nervous.

***

The Namgung clan’s disgrace was about to showcase his skills for the first time.

Blending into the crowd that had gathered to watch the preliminaries, Seolyeong listened in on the surrounding chatter.

“So he’s more suited for studying than martial arts. That’s why he’s been clashing with his father.”

Apparently, Namgung Wook, Namgung Yuhyeon’s youngest son, had no interest in martial arts at all, unlike most of the Namgung clan who were known for their skill with the sword. He preferred reading the Analects and debating philosophy. But he was born with a strong martial foundation, which only made his father’s frustration worse.

Standing among the spectators, Seolyeong mused.

‘Born with talent for the martial path but no interest in it, with the temperament of a scholar…’

That alone made Namgung Wook worth watching from the moment he stepped onto the stage. The crowd grew restless. On the opposite end, Tang Yujae appeared, cloaked in a concealment illusion to make his looks appear plain. As a result, no one paid him much attention.

Seolyeong spared him a glance out of courtesy.

“Tsk. He could’ve at least used a better-looking illusion.”

After that brief comment, he turned his eyes back to Namgung Wook.

The rumors about his physique weren’t wrong. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and heavily built. Yet his face held the gentle refinement of a scholar. His eyes and lips were shaped to accommodate the moods of others, softening with consideration.

The two warriors stepped onto the stage and exchanged respectful bows.

Namgung Wook was the first to speak.

“I hope to learn from you.”

His smile could win anyone’s favor, unfortunately, his opponent was the Samasa of the demonic sect.

“We’ll see.”

Tang Yujae replied flatly and stepped back five paces. Namgung Wook looked a little taken aback by the rude response, but then followed suit and backed up as well.

At the head of the seating area, the top figures of the righteous factions watched with grim expressions. Seolyeong searched among them until he spotted Namgung Woonpyeong. He frowned.

‘That’s not the same stare I remember.’

Blood fiends had animal-like intuition. Namgung Woonpyeong’s gaze used to be enough to make people freeze. It was oppressively commanding.

But now, his expression looked more like that of a kindly old man watching over the youth of the martial world.

“Has he gone senile with age? Looks like a tiger without teeth.”

Squinting suspiciously, Seolyeong turned his head as a loud impact shook the air. The match had begun while he wasn’t looking.

A man next to him shouted.

“What is that…!”

Seolyeong, equally shocked, could only gape.

The supposed disgrace of the Namgung clan had just clashed swords with Sahyeol Amje. Seolyeong regretted not seeing the exact moment of contact.

Then Namgung Wook twisted his blade to the side. A grating noise, like stone splitting, rang out as steel scraped past steel.

The two were exchanging energy on a high level.

Namgung Wook exhaled and launched upward. As his body plummeted back down, his sword collided again with force.

Clang! Sharp, efficient strikes flowed in relentless succession.

“I thought he was some bookworm?”

A bearded commoner muttered, and Seolyeong replied instinctively.

“No wonder his father wanted to train him. The way he shifts from heavy strikes to nimble variations shows he’s mastered more than just the basics.”

He adjusted the flow of each move to disrupt his opponent’s rhythm. His speed was so fast it made the movement seem still, almost.

What looked like a sword frozen in midair was in fact weaving multiple strikes in rapid succession. He even integrated defensive forms to control his breathing. This wasn’t the work of a first-timer.

Seolyeong finally realized why the Namgung clan had put him up as their first match.

Even the supposedly uninterested youngest son was demonstrating flawless technique, upholding the clan’s reputation. If Namgung Wook was this good, the others must be even stronger.

But in this world ruled by strength, that level alone wasn’t enough to be called a genius. It was impressive, yes, but countless others walked the same path.

Seolyeong realized the Namgung clan likely shared the same assessment, which is why they’d matched Namgung Wook against a mere rogue. They must have feared the embarrassment of losing to a hidden master.

Then Namgung Wook’s fluid blade reached its final target.

Boom, crash–!

An explosive roar tore through the arena. The sound was too loud, too heavy to believe it came from a sword.

Seolyeong instinctively sharpened his eyesight. He wanted to analyze the last strike. But what caught his eye wasn’t the sword, it was Tang Yujae’s face.

The Samasa of the demonic sect was smiling gently. And staring directly at him. Not anyone else. Only him.

–Not a bad sword.

The low voice echoed in his ears. At first, Seolyeong thought he was being spoken to, but it wasn’t meant for him.

–Did your father teach you?

Tang Yujae whispered toward Namgung Wook. The only reason Seolyeong could hear it was because he’d been allowed to.

Namgung Wook looked troubled, clearly unsure whether to react or pretend he hadn’t heard.

–I hear you dream of a scholar’s life in white robes.

The Samasa continued, he had deliberately received that last strike. He spoke with an amused tone, as if he were trying to provoke a rift between father and son.

There was no doubt he was laying a trap. Even Seolyeong, who was only listening, felt a cold tension creep over him.

–Watch your father’s dawn departures.

With a low thud, Yujae drove power into his sword. Namgung Wook was blown back instantly, his foot cracking the stone as he slid across the arena. There was no time to understand what had just happened.

Namgung Wook blinked, and the edge of a blade was suddenly right in front of his nose.

–If you really dream of that scholar’s life, you’ll witness something you can’t ignore.

Sahyeol Amje swung his sword.