“This is the Inner Hall Training Ground, reserved only for the direct family members. Inside the building, there are also private training rooms, so please feel free to use them.”
“Thank you, Chief Steward Grandfather.”
After bowing politely, Seolhwa immediately dashed into the training ground. Her eagerness to try the sword was written all over her face.
“Heh heh… how delightful.”
The child who had remained indifferent even when given treasures of gold and silver was now soaring with joy over a single sword. If she were an ordinary child, she would have preferred glittering jewels or ornaments.
Though it was he who had brought the treasures, somehow it felt as though the one who had truly won Seolhwa’s heart was the Flying Wind Sword.
“No, that was the Family Head’s gift. I haven’t given her anything yet.”
What should I give her? Though his pride was slightly wounded, he found a clue in the Flying Wind Sword’s gift. With a troubled heart, he walked away, deep in thought.
Shwik— shwiik! Shwik!
A sharp blade carved a blue arc through the air, slicing the wind. Seolhwa swung her sword without rest. Around her, blue flowers bloomed, and soon even the petals filled the sword’s path, forming a sphere.
At the center of that sphere stood Seolhwa. When she thrust her sword forward with all her might— Paaang—! A burst of energy spread outward like a small explosion, then gently settled around her.
It was as if pure white snow were falling beneath the blazing sun.
“Haa… haa….”
Straightening her posture, she looked down at the sword.
‘…Incredible.’
Not only did it carry a sharp aura, but the blade seemed capable of slicing even the air itself. Its weight was perfectly balanced, neither too heavy nor too light. The grip fit her hand as though it had been made for her alone.
Because of that, even her fingertips carried strength, and there was no hindrance at all in her swings. Each strike brought an unknown thrill rising from her chest. Even as her breath grew ragged, she could not bring herself to stop.
‘Was wielding a sword always this addictive?’
Though her body had reached its limit, her heart still longed for more. She wanted to swing it again, to play with it longer. This was the first time in her entire life that she had felt such joy from holding a sword.
Until now, she had thought of swords only as weapons meant to cut down and kill. But to think it could bring such happiness. Seolhwa swallowed dryly.
‘So this is why they call it a treasured sword.’
What would it be like to perform sword techniques with this blade? Surely the movements would be cleaner, sharper, and more fluid.
‘Just a little more….’
As she readied her stance again, a voice suddenly came from behind.
“Do you like it?”
Without a sound, Seop Mugwang had approached, his voice ringing close by. Seolhwa lowered her stance and turned around. He was striding toward her with arms crossed, looking smug.
“Ha! Whoever gave you that sword must be a genius, eh?”
He clapped his hands together—clap, clap, clap. It was applause for himself.
“Well, kid? How does it feel to swing it?”
His eyes gleamed. Seop Mugwang was not one to give gifts often—one could count such occasions on one hand. But like anyone who gave a gift, he desired to see the recipient’s reaction.
That was why he had come all the way to the training ground, to see Seolhwa’s response.
“Amazing, isn’t it? Hm?”
Though his tone was confident, there was a trace of unease in his voice. Seolhwa nodded without hesitation.
“It’s the best.”
“!”
“Of all the swords I’ve ever used, none compare to this one. It feels like it was always meant to be mine.”
Her words flowed out without pause, and Seop Mugwang blinked in surprise. Then, feeling awkward, he cleared his throat.
“Well, yes. That sword is quite something, after all. Hmph!”
“Does this sword have a name?”
“It did. But now that it’s yours, you may call it whatever you wish.”
“Please tell me.”
His brows twitched. This sword was the one he had wielded until the age of twenty. It was forged from Cold Iron he had stumbled upon after narrowly escaping death from a tiger in the mountains.
Thus, it was a treasure dear to him. The problem was that it had been crafted to fit his body back then, and now, as a grown man, it was a little small. Unable to throw it away or give it to anyone else, he had kept it hidden for years.
Only recently had he sharpened the blade and rewrapped the grip with fresh leather. He had done all of this solely for the child before him. Though he had hoped she would cherish the sword, he had not expected her to ask for its name.
For the first time in many years, Seop Mugwang spoke the name aloud.
“…It is called Manjeon.”
It felt like calling out the name of an old friend.
“What does it mean?”
“‘Man’ for ten thousand, and ‘Jeon’ for lightning. It means Ten Thousand Lightnings.”
Seop Mugwang’s title was Storm Thunder God. His swordsmanship was said to resemble lightning striking amidst raging winds, hence the name. A satisfied look spread across Seolhwa’s face.
“It’s a good name.”
‘Manjeon.’
It suited this sword perfectly, a blade that cleaved the air without restraint.
“I’ll call it Manjeon as well. But instead of ‘ten thousand’ (萬), I’ll use the character for ‘full’ (滿).”
“Full? As in, to fill completely?”
“Yes. Enough to cover the entire world.”
Though her words might have sounded arrogant, Seop Mugwang’s eyes only softened with affection. Not only was she willing to keep the sword’s name, but she also declared her ambition to cover the world with it. It was endearing beyond measure.
“Good.”
He patted her head with his large hand.
“Then live up to that name, and run wild.”
“Thank you.”
Seolhwa bowed her head deeply in gratitude. A proud smile spread across Seop Mugwang’s face. At that moment— “Seolhwa!”
A hurried voice called out. Both of them turned their heads. At the entrance of the training ground, Namgung Cheongun was running toward them, his face filled with urgency.
“Father?”
What’s going on? Namgung Cheongun gave Seop Mugwang a brief nod before grasping Seolhwa’s shoulder.
“The Family Head is urgently calling for you. We must go to the Family Head’s Hall at once.”
“Grandfather?”
Seolhwa and Seop Mugwang exchanged puzzled looks. Since leaving with the Chief Steward, she had not returned to the Family Head’s Hall, so even Seop Mugwang did not know the matter. But for Namgung Mucheon to summon her so urgently was rare indeed.
“It seems important. Go quickly.”
Seop Mugwang gave her a gentle push on the back. Seolhwa looked at the sword in her hand with regret.
‘I’ll have to continue training later.’
But the greater the regret, the greater the joy of anticipation for next time.
“Yes, I understand.”
She sheathed the sword and followed behind Namgung Cheongun.
Clang—!
With a sharp crash, shards of glass scattered across the floor. A slender hand, trembling with anger, had hurled a bottle of costly perfume. The hand, adorned with two thick rings, clenched into a fist before calmly lifting a teacup as though nothing had happened.
“Bone Marrow Cleansing, and now treasures of gold and silver. Truly, Father-in-law never changes.”
The woman sipping tea with graceful composure was Yeon Soran, wife of Namgung Cheonghae. As the mistress of the Inner Hall, she managed its affairs in place of the absent matron of the Namgung family and Namgung Cheongun’s wife.
“It seems Father-in-law is very fond of his long-lost granddaughter. Don’t you agree?”
Her sharp gaze turned toward the spot where the perfume bottle had shattered. Standing beside the shards was a man dressed in ornate martial robes. The red trim and insignia marked him as a member of the Red Dragon Unit of the Inner Hall’s martial force.
“Well, it has been eight years since she was found. It’s only natural he treasures her. Even back then, the Family Head was especially fond of Lady Seolhwa….”
Clack!
The sound of her teacup striking its saucer cut him off. Namgung Jangyang, the Red Dragon Unit Leader, flinched slightly and quickly changed his words.
“Still, this time the Family Head may have gone too far… Bone Marrow Cleansing, of all things… If Young Master Soryong had received it instead, he would surely have become a peerless genius….”
“Soryong is already a genius. There is no one in Namgung who can rival him.”
“Haha… Indeed. The Young Master is so unmatched that even the Inner Hall warriors must spar with him to aid his training….”
As Red Dragon Unit Leader, Namgung Jangyang was responsible for training both direct and collateral descendants with exceptional martial talent. It was true that Namgung Soryong’s martial progress far outstripped that of his peers. Though it was an exaggeration to say the unit members had to spar with him, it was not entirely false.
“If our Soryong had received Bone Marrow Cleansing, it would have been perfect. But even without it, he is more than enough. After all, a worm does not become a dragon simply by receiving Bone Marrow Cleansing, does it?”
“Your words are most true.”
“And that is what must be shown clearly.”
“…Pardon?”
Namgung Jangyang blinked in confusion, not understanding her meaning. Yeon Soran’s brows furrowed slightly as she lifted her teacup again.
“The Heavenly Martial Tournament is in fifteen days.”
“…!”
The Heavenly Martial Tournament was a major event held twice a year in the Namgung family. It was the occasion where the martial progress of all members was evaluated. From the promotion exams of the Outer Hall warriors, to sparring matches among the Inner Hall warriors, to the assessment of the direct descendants’ martial growth—everything was judged there.
As a martial family of the Martial World, Namgung valued martial cultivation above all. The Family Head, Namgung Mucheon, personally presided over the tournament to remind everyone never to neglect their training.
“Fifteen days is too short for a worm to become a dragon….”
Yeon Soran raised her teacup to her lips, a faint smile playing on her face.
“But one must never nurture the worm.”