Otherworld TRPG Game Master

Namgung Chaegong let out a big laugh, then tilted his wine cup and spoke.

“It wasn’t a bad proposal… Although she was adopted, Seungah is properly registered in the Namgung family registry. Moreover, and I’m not saying this just because she’s my daughter, but she’s exceptionally beautiful.”

It might have been a burdensome topic. One wrong word and he could end up disparaging his daughter in front of her father.

However, the smile that remained on Namgung Chaegong’s lips seemed to be the Clan Lord’s consideration, indicating there was no need to feel burdened by such talk.

So Cheonghwi could also converse comfortably without reservation.

“First, for a marriage to be joyful without discord, both sides’ opinions must match. A marriage pursued only for gain without affection leaves only misery behind.”

Wasn’t that exactly his case?

The Duke of Redburn, without love, merely took in a concubine to mechanically bear children to raise assassins. That’s how Envers Redburn was born.

There was no family love there.

“Secondly, while I do not have a lover… there is a woman I have in mind. Promising marriage here without sorting out these feelings would be a betrayal to both parties, I believe.”

How could he be upright if he wasn’t sincere to his partner, thinking of Luna while with Namgung Seungah, and thinking of Namgung Seungah while with Luna?

Of course, he had no way of knowing what Luna was thinking. Whether that promise was a joke, if there was sincerity mixed in, if it was romantic feelings, or just feelings between friends - he couldn’t know until he confronted it.

Perhaps he was just drinking a bowl full of wishful thinking.

However, even so, one must keep their word.

Namgung Chaegong slapped his knee in delight at Cheonghwi’s pure love.

“Fair enough! Then I shall respect your wishes. Moreover… this is a place to repay a benefactor who has bestowed great favor on the Namgung Clan. If you do not wish to receive it, I have no choice but to prepare something else.”

“Seungah, if you keep glaring like that, Daoist Cheonghwi might die.”

“He’s so shameless, so he won’t die from just this much…!”

Namgung Seungah’s gaze was hot. Cheonghwi didn’t dare meet her eyes and pretended to be distracted. It felt like invisible rays were being shot at him.

“Well then, in that case…”

Namgung Chaegong closed his eyes tightly and pondered, then chose what to give.

“You gave up a precious Elixir to save Myeong’s dantian. You stepped forward without fear even in a situation where you could have incurred only resentment if things went wrong.” 𝙧�

“It was what I wanted to do.”

“Yes. You have already shown more devotion to my family than even family would. Following the principle of repaying kindness with kindness, I too shall consider you family. Will you accept the Namgung surname and become a brother to Myeong and Seungah?”

Thud.

Cheonghwi felt a sense of interlocking. The feeling when you learn by chance through someone else about something you didn’t even know you wanted.

Family, he says.

If he opened his mouth to utter that word, it would be full of bitterness. The more he reflected on past years, the more bitter juice seeped out.

Half-siblings fighting, competing, betraying each other. Being treated as a tool by his father, loved by his mother but in a pitiful situation.

Low-life, I told you when I thrust to the right, you need to block the left!

But Elder Brother, how can I keep up when you strike so fast?

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…Well, I can’t help it. I’ll slow down by one tempo, so you better follow properly!

The true brotherhood he once thought he had found in that dark pit…

…Low-life, I’ve figured out how to use mana.

Shattered into dozens of pieces and mixed chaotically on a moonlit night.

So he should have been sick of the word family long ago, but it seems it was still lingering in a corner. It seems he wanted to feel that warmth again.

If only he could obtain it──

Cheonghwi nodded. He wanted to receive it.

“…Indeed, it is truly a precious reward. I shall gladly accept.”

“Then from this moment on, you are Namgung Cheonghwi.”

“Namgung… Cheonghwi…”

“It seems you quite like it? You can take your time calling me father. Even Seungah still finds it awkward. Well then… are you ready to receive the next reward?”

Namgung Chaegong stood up and strode forward. Namgung Cheonghwi followed the Clan Lord in a daze, then awkwardly asked.

“The next reward… What is it that you propose? I mean, what is it?”

“You can take your time getting used to it. It wouldn’t be right for me to be treated as a father when I haven’t acted like one. And, there’s some change left over from substituting with the Namgung surname. So I’m going to add one more thing.”

He spoke with a complex expression, whether of regret or relief:

“I will show you the Namgung Clan’s secret chamber, said to contain the Sword Mark of the Emperor Sword Form (帝王劍形), our ancestor’s final secret technique.”

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They walked together along a straight path hidden by intricate formations, with thick fog all around. As they walked, Namgung Chaegong spoke of the distant past.

The founder of the Namgung Clan endlessly pursued cutting the sky, it was said.

“They say he perfectly matched his nickname of Sword Maniac. He swung his sword at the sky all day long, and people drawn to that sight gathered one by one, eventually becoming the Namgung Clan.”

Beside the founder swinging his sword on some nameless plain, there were those who imitated his swordsmanship. Those who cooked food to feed him. Those who fell in love and clung to him. As people gathered like that, somehow they became a family.

As the land happened to be in the south, they called themselves Namgung¹.

Their descendants developed unique martial arts based on the founder’s swordsmanship, and at some point, they stood tall as one of the top sword clans in the martial world.

A great clan with roots in the world’s greatest swordsman, aiming to reach that realm again while following in the footsteps of the great ancestor who cut the sky.

However, at its essence, it was a group of fools enchanted by a fool obsessed with swords, so…

“Therefore, the thought that the Namgung name must be supreme… is not the original intent (意). A family name is not something to be revered, but a fence to protect each other.”

“Myeong and Seungah seem to have realized this, but Zhao still hasn’t broken free. He’s caught up in the form (形) of Namgung and blurring the essence.”

Namgung Zhao had been jealous and competitive since childhood, with an arrogant personality that couldn’t stand not being at the top. His obsession with the Namgung Clan was just as strong.

He would vehemently oppose Namgung Seungah’s adoption, saying how could they bring in outside blood to the great Namgung Clan, that it would dilute the blood of their great ancestor.

To the point of being jealous of his much younger brother Namgung Myeong’s talent.

“He’s just like me.”

“…I do not quite understand. So, you and Namgung Zhao…”

“I was like that when I was young too. I couldn’t stand it when someone looked down on me. So I got caught up in personal matters and ended up closing off the entire clan, didn’t I?”

Affection and worry flashed in Namgung Chaegong’s eyes. As they say one finger out of ten is bound to be a sore thumb, Namgung Zhao seemed to be that for the Clan Lord.

One could read the emotion of hoping he wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes, because he was so much like himself.

Thud.

Namgung Chaegong’s footsteps stopped. Before them was the entrance to a large cave. Was this the secret chamber where traces of cutting the sky remained?

Namgung Cheonghwi swallowed hard with excitement and carefully entered.

How exquisite must the Sword Mark left by a swordsman capable of cutting the sky be? How deep and solid must the roots of the great Namgung Clan be? He couldn’t help but have expectations.

The inside of the cave was carved into a hemisphere, with a hole in the ceiling letting sunlight in at the center. Flowers bloomed here and there, and a shallow stream flowed across.

It was a beautiful place, as if a small piece of nature had been cut out and arranged.

And Namgung Cheonghwi, upon witnessing the scene of the secret chamber, opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“This is…”

“…That’s why I didn’t show it to Zhao.”

There was no Sword Mark.

No footprints, no traces, nothing at all. He wondered if he might have missed it, or if it was hidden because the technique was too exquisite. He had such thoughts, but…

No matter how much he concentrated his eye power and scanned every inch, the Namgung Clan’s secret chamber was empty.

There were only traces here and there of someone digging up and pulling out plant roots, perhaps wondering if there might be a Sword Mark under the flower bed.

Namgung Cheonghwi raised his head to look at Namgung Chaegong’s expression. Thick regret was stuck to it. In the secret chamber he had desperately searched for, even closing off the clan, there was nothing.

“…I didn’t want you to be as deeply disappointed as I was.”

“The story of the Namgung Ancestor cutting the sky must have been fake. The Namgung Clan’s secret technique, the Emperor Sword Form (帝王劍形), is fiction. Otherwise, how could there not be even a single trace of a cut?”

The reason for not showing the secret chamber to Namgung Myeong and Namgung Seungah was the same. If they heard that the clan’s roots were actually an illusion, they would be deeply disappointed, so he intended to show them only after their hearts had matured sufficiently.

“You… are clear-minded enough to give up an Elixir, and as an outsider, your disappointment won’t be great. That’s why I showed you. Even seeing it again… it hurts my heart.”

Namgung Chaegong smacked his lips and turned around first to leave the secret chamber.

Namgung Cheonghwi felt a strange feeling and couldn’t easily take a step. There was certainly no trace in the secret chamber. But that fact… seemed to hold a different meaning.

“Emperor Sword Form… is it.”

It kept echoing in a corner of his mind.

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The man standing in blue martial attire, called Hyungnim Zhao by Namgung Myeong.

Now that he had received the Namgung surname, perhaps he would become a brother to him too. Namgung Zhao (南宮昭), known as the Brilliant Sword of No-Mind (無心輝劍), was waiting for Cheonghwi.

He still wore a smiling face, but undisguisable anger could be felt in his protruding blood vessels. He was in a terribly irritable state.

However, Namgung Cheonghwi paid no mind.

“I hear you’ve become Namgung Cheonghwi. Congratulations, Daoist.”

“It happened somehow. Now we have become family.”

Namgung Cheonghwi didn’t stop walking even when Namgung Zhao called out to him, so Namgung Zhao had to follow. Thus, the two walked side by side down the corridor.

Creak. Creak.

Now, no sound came from Cheonghwi’s feet, while noisy sounds rang out from Namgung Zhao’s feet, whose mind and body were disturbed.

Perhaps feeling terribly insulted by this fact, Namgung Zhao’s hand quietly gripped his sword handle. And he gripped it so tightly that blood vessels stood out on the back of his hand.

It seemed like he wanted to draw his sword and kill Namgung Cheonghwi right away.

“…However, if a Semu claims the Namgung name and goes around… I’m worried it might cause unnecessary misunderstandings. Surely no one will believe it.”

“I do not care about outsiders’ views. What is important is that I now have two siblings with good hearts and excellent martial talents.”

“…The clan elders will strongly oppose this too. Perhaps they might even plead with the Clan Lord to drive you out.”

“Even if that happens, I have already become a brother to them in my heart, so it does not matter.”

Silence.

A silence neither too long nor too short.

Breaking that silence, Namgung Cheonghwi warned him.

“Do not do it.”

“…What is the meaning of this sudden Zen riddle, Daoist?”

“Whatever you are planning, do not do it. I will not pursue what has happened so far. But do not be mistaken. I am not saying this out of fear of you or concern for future troubles, but for Myeong’s sake.”

Cheonghwi took out the letter obtained from the Sleep-Killing Stepfather’s corpse and tossed it to Namgung Zhao.

“They say the handwriting is the same.”

“Such low-grade slander is…”

“I shall say it again. I will not pursue it. From now on, give up your lingering attachments, do not have malicious thoughts, be grateful for having family, and get along well.”

Namgung Zhao’s footsteps stopped.

When Namgung Cheonghwi had gone about ten steps ahead, the sound of a sword being drawn, shing, was heard from behind. Even so, Cheonghwi didn’t look back or panic.

Namgung Zhao growled, full of killing intent.

“What if I don’t? What if… I must fulfill my secret, earnest wish? What will you do then?”

“Then one ill-mannered, bad-tempered low-life will die.”

As Namgung Cheonghwi turned the corner, Namgung Zhao’s angry shout could be heard from far away. Along with the sound of the floor and walls being destroyed.

Trouble was not far off.

1. Nam means South in Korean.