Mount Wudang
The Master of the Taeui Sword Sect blurted out the first thought that came to mind.
"...Victory Dragon Sword. Why are you alive?"
It was only a single sentence, yet the atmosphere immediately grew icy cold.
The Master of the Taeui Sword Sect hastily waved his hands.
"No, I didn't mean it like that. I clearly heard through a sound transmission—!"
But before he could finish, his tongue stiffened as if frozen, unable to speak further. It seemed that Hyeongong had used some trick to block his mouth.
However, when Elder Yeongbo simply waved his hand, Hyeongong's interference was shattered at once.
Elder Yeongbo narrowed his eyes slightly at Hyeongong, then spoke to the Master of the Taeui Sword Sect with a benevolent expression.
"Master of Taeui Sword Sect. Don't worry, go ahead and speak."
The sect master steadied himself, then pointed accusingly at Tang Mujin and Namgung Myeong.
"Victory Dragon Sword… no, he told me this himself! He said he would personally execute those villains and that I should trust him and wait!"
"Master of Taeui Sword Sect! How can you just spout nonsense like that? When did I ever say such a thing…?"
Hyeongong shouted boldly. When truth or lies cannot be proven, it's often the one with the louder voice who wins.
Yet, judging by the atmosphere, it seemed others found the Master's words plausible. After all, unless he had lost his mind, why would he come to Wudang just to spew lies?
Going against the tide was dangerous. After a brief inner struggle, Hyeongong took half a step back—a strategic retreat.
"...Did I say something like that? I don't quite recall. Perhaps you misheard me?"
"Impossible!"
"Was there anyone else who heard me say such a thing?"
"No. You said it through a sound transmission."
"I see. So no one else heard. Very well, let's assume for the moment that I did say such a thing."
Hyeongong twisted the narrative with cunning.
The feeling he gave off was: 'Of course your claim isn't true, but I'll indulge you graciously.'
He himself felt quite satisfied with his response.
But the sect master was no fool—he could see through Hyeongong's ploy clearly.
The Master of the Taeui Sword Sect stared at him in disbelief.
Then, Baozhang Pavilion Lord, who had stayed silent until now since Tang Mujin's group was brought in, asked the sect master:
"By the way, why did you think Hyeongong intended to kill those young heroes?"
"Those villains killed my father!"
"That's what seems strange. Of course, Hyeongong's martial prowess is outstanding compared to his peers, but surely he's not capable of facing Yi Ryong and the other two all at once?"
"It wasn't a one-against-three situation. Including Hyeongong, there were five of us—so we had the numbers..."
"Wait. Five? You didn't mention that earlier. Who were the other four?"
The sect master hesitated. He hadn't expected to face Hyeongong directly, so he had deliberately avoided mentioning this part until now.
Baozhang Pavilion Lord pressed again.
"There should be nothing hidden here."
"...They were assassins."
"As-sa-ssins?"
The Pavilion Lord's face twisted strangely.
"Master of Taeui Sword Sect, are you claiming that Hyeongong colluded with assassins to target orthodox heroes?"
As the sect master floundered, Hyeongong quickly jumped in.
"Ah, so that's the misunderstanding! I wasn't siding with them—I was chasing the assassins to execute them. With me joining in, the numbers balanced perfectly."
Hyeongong then turned sharply to Namgung Myeong, putting emphasis on his surname as he spoke.
"Namgung Myeong. You saw me rushing after the assassins, didn't you? And I was the first to subdue one and take his head. Isn't that right?"
There was a slight twist in his story. He hadn't subdued the assassin fairly—he had ambushed him from behind.
But since the important part was that he had fought the assassin, Namgung Myeong generously nodded.
"That's right. Thanks to you, the fight went much smoother."
"As Namgung Myeong testified, I bravely fought against assassins. As a proud disciple of Wudang, I could not stand idly by in the face of injustice. If my courage and chivalry are crimes, then I gladly accept punishment—for surely I'll commit such crimes again in the future."
Hyeongong ended his defense in high spirits.
And somehow, the focus of the story had shifted. It was no longer about "betraying the Master of the Taeui Sword Sect," but about "an orthodox hero righteously eliminating assassins."
The sect master trembled with fury.
For a moment, seeing Hyeongong alive had made him feel relieved. Now he felt like a fool.
"You said you'd avenge my father! You even came to his funeral! If you had to ally with assassins, you should've done so to avenge him! Why else did Taeui Sword Sect join the Zhengchen Alliance? What was it all for?!"
His voice, raw with grief, echoed like it was clawing at his insides. For the first time, he raised his voice in front of Wudang elders.
Yeongbo Elder and Baozhang Pavilion Lord, who had become impromptu judges, fell into troubled thought.
Was it right to ignore the sect master's grievance and instead strike down assassins?
Or was it right to ally with assassins to kill young heroes, thus fulfilling the sect master's revenge?
There was no clear answer.
The Pavilion Lord frowned in frustration, but Elder Yeongbo's eyes sparkled brightly like a child's.
Though he pitied the sect master, this was the first time such a sharp debate had arisen within Wudang—and he found it fascinating.
The Pavilion Lord asked:
"Before we judge right or wrong, let's know this first. How exactly did you end up killing the Master of the Taeui Sword Sect's father?"
The question shifted toward Tang Mujin and Namgung Myeong.
Namgung Myeong nudged Tang Mujin in the side, passing the burden to him.
After a moment's thought, Tang Mujin began.
"Do you know Mount Nogun?"
At this, Elder Yeongbo replied:
"I've never been, but I've heard of it."
"Then have you heard the title, the Three Swords of Mount Nogun?"
Neither Elder Yeongbo nor the Pavilion Lord seemed to recognize it. Apparently, Pyo Chung had only delivered the sword without much explanation.
Tang Mujin elaborated:
"On Mount Nogun live those who are wretched and pitiful, and three Wudang elders who have spent their lives beside them. They are the Three Swords of Mount Nogun."
Tang Mujin then told the story of Mount Nogun. Though he had spent a long time there, his account was brief.
"...And so, I cut down the Master of the Taeui Sword Sect's father."
The sect master cried out in outrage.
"So you admit it—you killed my father to shield traitors?!"
"Well, in short, yes. But I saw it with my own eyes and acted according to what I believed was right."
When Tang Mujin admitted it, the sect master looked around, gauging others' reactions.
But Elder Yeongbo and the Pavilion Lord did not seem inclined to fully support his accusation.
Unable to bear it, the sect master shouted:
"They are rebels! Descendants of traitors! They once sought to plunge the world into chaos, causing countless deaths! If they were given a chance to atone through service, you should have rejoiced and thanked the heavens!"
Namgung Myeong cut in with a sneer.
"Well, I suppose that's one way to look at it. Though I don't quite see why they had to serve your sect, of all places."
The sect master's face flushed red, but he had no rebuttal. He had never considered that aspect before.
Tang Mujin added one last remark:
"Judge as you will—I won't argue further. But if you deem my judgment and the actions of the Three Swords of Mount Nogun to be wrong, then I'll take the Songmun Ancient Sword and melt it down."
Though the sect master and Hong Geolgae didn't know what the Songmun Ancient Sword was, the other five's gazes all shifted to the sword beside Elder Yeongbo.
Regardless of the situation, Tang Mujin's face clearly showed disappointment.
He had come to see the so-called greatest sword under heaven, only to discover that it was the very blade he himself had forged last winter.
He couldn't understand why such a freshly made sword had been given the awkward name "Songmun Ancient Sword."
Elder Yeongbo stroked his beard.
"All well and good, but why suddenly bring up the Songmun Ancient Sword?"
"Because I forged it last winter, in honor of the Three Swords of Mount Nogun."
Interest flickered in Elder Yeongbo's eyes.
"But aren't you a physician? How is it that a physician forges swords?"
"I am a physician, and a martial artist—but also a blacksmith."
The Pavilion Lord furrowed his brows.
"Nonsense. Even if you had picked up a hammer before you could walk, you could never forge such a sword. That is no mere blade with only a convincing appearance."
"Of course. Who do you think forged it? There's no way it would turn out to be mere trash dressed up to look decent."
Tang Mujin stepped forward toward Elder Yeongbo and reached his hand toward the Songmun Ancient Sword.
The Baozhang Pavilion Lord instinctively moved to block him. The Songmun Ancient Sword was a sacred heirloom symbolizing the sect leader, the command seal of the Wudang Sect—how could an outsider dare lay hands on it?
But Elder Yeongbo waved him back, restraining him. The Pavilion Lord's expression showed deep displeasure.
Tang Mujin drew the sword from its scabbard. The blade revealed patterns that filled its surface. Irregular and chaotic they were, yet not crude.
The scabbard and hilt were not particularly ornate. But a true sword's greatness did not come from embellishment. Everyone present felt overwhelmed by the sword's aura.
A sound transmission from Namgung Myeong pierced Tang Mujin's ear.
—Won't you forge a new sword for me as well?
Tang Mujin ignored him, instead running his fingers over the twelve characters engraved at the lower section of the blade.
Jungseon Pyo Chung. Junggok Tang Nang. Junghyeon Sanjeo.
"These are the courtesy names and aliases of the Three Swords of Mount Nogun."
"I know those courtesy names. They are my senior brothers, after all. Though they left the sect long ago and never returned, I still recognize them. But just knowing their names doesn't make your story true."
When the Pavilion Lord pointed this out, Tang Mujin nodded.
"Indeed."
He drew out an acupuncture case, tapping lightly on the sword's hilt as though using a small hammer. A tiny wooden peg, hidden from sight, slid free.
Then, by working along the patterns of the hilt, Tang Mujin caused it to come apart piece by piece.
At last, the tang of the blade—buried deep within the hilt—was revealed.
Blacksmiths often left their signature on the hidden tang of a finished blade. Tang Mujin had done the same.
On the tang of the Songmun Ancient Sword was engraved a single character: Tang .
He offered no lengthy explanation. He simply reassembled the hilt in reverse, his hands moving without hesitation.
When the final wooden peg was slotted back into place, the Songmun Ancient Sword was restored as though it had never been taken apart.
Just one character: Tang. One might ask, "Is he the only Tang in the world?" But no one voiced it.
The truest proof that Tang Mujin had forged the sword lay not in the character, but in the effortless skill with which he dismantled and reassembled the complicated hilt.
Unlike ordinary swords, its construction was extremely intricate, yet Tang Mujin had not faltered for a single instant.
Holding the sword without returning it to Elder Yeongbo, Tang Mujin stood with a tilted posture.
"If you cannot acknowledge the lives of the Three Swords of Mount Nogun, then you have no right to wield a blade forged in their honor. Elder Pyo Chung would agree with me."
A brief silence followed.
Beside him, Hyeongong's mind spun rapidly.
How many extra points should I add?
Tang Mujin's martial skill and background were remarkable, but not extraordinary. His status as one of the Three Greatest Physicians Under Heaven gave him considerable credit, yet Hyeongong still judged him to be beneath himself.
But if Tang Mujin had forged the Songmun Ancient Sword, the situation changed.
The Songmun Ancient Sword was a blade worthy of sparking bloody strife across the martial world—an artifact so great that it seemed unbelievable Wudang had obtained it without turmoil.
As a blacksmith capable of producing such a sword, Tang Mujin's worth was immeasurable.
No wonder Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae keep an eye on him. Crafty fellows, those two.
Hyeongong resolved himself: he must befriend Tang Mujin.
His gaze softened with goodwill as he looked at him.
Then, Hyeongong declared firmly:
"As I said before, I do not regret helping Tang Mujin to fight the assassins."
Elder Yeongbo smiled serenely. It had been so long since he had encountered such entertaining tales and spectacles.
The moment the Master of the Taeui Sword Sect saw Yeongbo's smile, he knew he had lost. The scales had been tilting toward Tang Mujin from the start, but now, with the Songmun Ancient Sword revealed, the matter was decided.
"Master of the Taeui Sword Sect. This is not so complicated. Your late father, Tang Mujin, and Namgung all fought under the rules of a life-and-death duel. The world must respect the outcome. I doubt your father would have wished it otherwise. He was a fine warrior—he surely understood what was at stake."
The sect master shut his eyes tightly.
He could not respond. He did not want to.
"That doesn't mean I'll rebuke you. What child would not feel bound by grief at a father's death?"
"...Understood. I shall take my leave."
Before Elder Yeongbo could even give permission, the Master of the Taeui Sword Sect rose unsteadily and staggered out.
It was blatant discourtesy, but no one chastised him.
Once he had gone from Hyuncheondang, Elder Yeongbo extended his hand toward Tang Mujin.
When Tang Mujin returned the Songmun Ancient Sword, Elder Yeongbo spoke:
"I never realized I owed such a great debt. Allow me to give you a small gift. Will you stay one more day?"
"I will."
"Good. Then go rest for now."
Tang Mujin let out a sigh of relief. He was glad the situation had not escalated further.
As his group departed Hyuncheondang, Hyeongong quietly slipped in beside Tang Mujin, his expression warm and courteous.
But then a sound transmission from Elder Yeongbo reached his ear:
—You stay behind.
Hyeongong's expression darkened.