Chapter 130

There were many voices from others, but the reason that one stood out so clearly wasn’t just because Namgung Sol’s name was mentioned.

That shout was louder than all the other noises filling the inn. Though it didn’t carry internal energy, it was clearly intended to draw attention.

Namgung Sol slightly lifted the veil they were wearing to avoid trouble and checked the face of the person who had just spoken.

‘A voice I’ve heard somewhere before…’

It was a face they remembered.

Perhaps it was one of those who had clung to Namgung Sol when they first emerged into the martial world and started making a name for themselves.

‘Was it… Onggajang?’

The surname was quite unique, so they remembered it. And the face of that so-called young master of Onggajang who had been particularly annoying.

While Namgung Sol was recalling the past, the conversation on the other side was gaining momentum.

“Hey, old man. What on earth are you talking about?”

“Be careful with your words. This is Martial Village.”

“Don’t you know how Changcheon Daeju saved the king? Even here, there are those who use the Gyeongsinbeop. How can you not know about Chidogon?”

Ong Beomhak, who had lived comfortably as the sole heir of Onggajang, snorted at the curiosity and dissuasion of those around him and shouted.

“Did I say anything wrong?”

“Then tell us. What exactly are you saying about the Martial Alliance and Changcheon Daeju plotting?”

Despite the people’s prodding, Ong Beomhak kept his mouth shut. He knew there was still a line he shouldn’t cross.

Though he was already heavily drunk by midday, he still had enough sense for that. But those who interpreted his silence differently kept filling his cup, curious about what he might say.

Ong Beomhak drank it all. Though a thread of reason remained, he had already reached the stage where alcohol was drinking itself.

As the attention focused on him and a few rounds passed, his tongue began to loosen.

“Those who know, know…”

The topic was anything but ordinary.

Namgung Sol focused their internal energy on the acupoint near their ear, enhancing their hearing.

“Jin Sol’s real name is Namgung Sol. The Martial Alliance is deliberately pushing to revive the Namgung name, that’s what I’m saying! Why do you think Changcheon Daeju suddenly took them as a disciple? Huh? There’s nothing special about them. It’s all because the Martial Alliance Leader, who has deep ties with Namgung, requested it!”

At first, Ong Beomhak’s words were filled with a sense of superiority, as if only he knew the truth. But as he went on, his resentment and inferiority complex mixed in, turning his rant into more of a personal vent than a condemnation of the tournament’s corruption.

And he was right. Ong Beomhak had also participated in the martial tournament. He was eliminated in the preliminaries, but not just by anyone—he lost to Song Chaeji.

Well, even someone as petty as Ong Beomhak could accept that. Though currently overshadowed by the Nine Sects, the Hangsan Faction, to which Song Chaeji belonged, was still a top-tier prestigious faction in the martial world.

Compared to Onggajang, which had only been around for about 50 years, the difference in history was immense. Moreover, Song Chaeji was a rising star of the Hangsan Faction, recognized by the famous Eulju Jinin and taken as a direct disciple.

It was inevitable that Ong Beomhak would lose. He had experienced firsthand just how strong she was.

But then, Song Chaeji lost to Namgung Sol.

And it wasn’t an overwhelming defeat—it was more like Song Chaeji handed the victory to Namgung Sol.

That’s where Ong Beomhak’s inferiority complex began.

The Namgung Sol he knew was just a brat who hadn’t even reached the peak level, riding solely on the Namgung name.

Still, since they were a true survivor of the Namgung Family, their martial arts seemed decent. He had approached them, hoping to get some secrets to improve Onggajang’s martial arts, but before he could achieve anything, the Martial Alliance intervened.

And now, that same Namgung Sol, who couldn’t even pass the preliminaries, had advanced to the second round of the main tournament? To Ong Beomhak, that was unthinkable.

Even though they lost in the second round to an unbelievable monster, the nickname “Changcheon Peak” was already being whispered among enthusiasts.

It was unfair. No matter how he thought about it, Ong Beomhak felt he was stronger than Namgung Sol.

Thinking like that, everything Namgung Sol had started to seem like it had been stolen from him.

The position as a disciple of Changcheon Daeju, the new peerless master shaking the martial world, the nickname “Changcheon Peak”—Ong Beomhak attributed it all to the Namgung name.

They’re pushing Namgung Sol because of the Namgung Family. It’s well-known that Gakwon and the last Namgung Family Head, Namgung Hyu, were close friends.

Changcheon Daeju was the same. Upon investigation, Song Chaeji had a connection with Changcheon Daeju. The Martial Alliance Leader must have requested Changcheon Daeju to ask Song Chaeji to lose on purpose. The Leader probably pressured the Martial Alliance to manipulate the matchups so Namgung Sol would face Song Chaeji!

Once his thoughts started to spiral, Ong Beomhak’s delusions of persecution grew like a snowball. Add alcohol to the mix, and his reasoning went out the window. With the crowd’s attention, the speed of his descent was unstoppable.

“So, this martial tournament is a worthless, rigged event for their own benefit, that’s what I’m saying!”

It’s not my lack of skill that’s the problem—it’s this world, no, the tournament itself.

That’s why my elimination was inevitable.

That was the ultimate point Ong Beomhak wanted to make.

Regardless of his inner thoughts, there was some logic to his words.

“Well… there was something off about how things unfolded…”

“Honestly, by the first round, it was clear that Hengming Feng had already won. There was no situation where Naryeotagon could be used. I wondered why the judges just let it slide…”

The words of those who agreed with Ong Beomhak created another wave of agreement, steering the entire atmosphere of the inn in one direction.

Namgung Sol, who had been listening, had no chance to intervene.

Drunk and impassioned, Ong Beomhak ranted, and soon others added their own comments and testimonies, fleshing out the skeleton of his argument.

The process was seamless, and Namgung Sol, like someone who had been blindsided, could only stare blankly at the group denouncing the rigging.

It was a spectacle. In group actions, people often lose rational thought and become absorbed in the group’s decisions. This time was no different. With the added motivation of personal inferiority complexes, the cohesion was especially swift.

“Think about what they showed in the second round! They started scattering Salcho because they couldn’t match the level!”

Ong Beomhak, as if he had become an orator, stood on his seat and raised his voice.

“Right! Right!”

“This matter must be taken up with the Martial Alliance!”

As the inn grew increasingly heated, Namgung Sol, lost in thought, didn’t even notice that the food they had ordered had long since arrived and was getting cold.

‘What should I do…?’

What a coincidence. Of all the inns, why did I have to come to this one?

Should I consider this good luck or bad luck?

Perhaps it’s not just this inn.

Though Namgung Sol had long prepared to stand alone, even ready to risk their life, they were still a young 20-year-old with little experience. In such a situation, they couldn’t figure out what to do.

While Namgung Sol was floundering, unable to act, help came from the entrance of the inn.

“Are those words meant as an insult to me?”

A pleasant baritone voice.

But to those gathered in the inn, rallying with Ong Beomhak, it sounded like terror.

“Ch-Changcheon Daeju…!”

They recognized the voice of Namgung Woo, whom they had just been tearing apart.

A single sigh from someone who recognized Namgung Woo’s face instantly cooled the boiling atmosphere.

Ong Beomhak, too, quickly tried to sober up, circulating his internal energy to dispel the alcohol.

Though people might curse the king behind his back, when faced with him, they grovel—a common trait of petty individuals.

Namgung Woo’s reputation wasn’t just for show. Just days ago, he had lit up all of Luoyang with his thunderous display.

“A-Ah… Changcheon Daeju, I-I was just saying…”

“Enough. I don’t want to hear any more.”

As Namgung Woo cut him off, Ong Beomhak trembled, his teeth chattering.

Was it just fear? That was part of it. Though Onggajang had established itself in Shaanxi, it was nowhere near the level to withstand a peerless master.

But the reason Ong Beomhak reacted so strongly was that Namgung Woo’s overwhelming presence was crushing his very soul.

“I will formally inquire with Onggajang about this matter. And forget what happened here. But if you still believe you’re right, come to Changmu Inn. The person you so distrust will face you directly.”

Namgung Woo said this and then looked at Namgung Sol, sitting in the corner of the inn.

“Sol. Let’s go.”

“Ah! Yes!”

Thud. Clatter!

In their haste to stand, the chair tipped over. Namgung Sol quickly righted it and scurried over to Namgung Woo.

The atmosphere in the inn grew even colder as they realized the subject of their discussion had been listening all along.

Namgung Woo, as if they were no longer worth his attention, turned his back without hesitation.

On the way back, Namgung Sol cautiously asked, feeling as if they had done something wrong.

“Is it really okay to let this go…?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

If they had shouted that loudly, the Martial Alliance would surely hear about it.

They’ll handle it well enough.

There’s no need for Namgung Woo or Changcheon Pavilion to get involved and stir up trouble.

“And I think it’s about time to announce it. This might be a good opportunity.”

“Okay…”

Namgung Sol decided not to think too deeply about it.

Namgung Woo must have something in mind! I’ll trust my master, the true successor of the Namgung Family! With that thought, Namgung Sol shook off their worries.

But Namgung Sol’s questions didn’t end there.

This time, they asked even more cautiously.

“Um, that… did you resolve that matter?”

“Matter? Ah… that.”

Namgung Woo realized what Namgung Sol was asking and hesitated. Not because he had nothing to say, but because it was a bit awkward to talk about.

Namgung Sol noticed that Namgung Woo’s face was slightly redder than usual. For a peerless master, emotions rarely showed on their face, so such a change meant something significant!

Taking this as a positive sign, Namgung Sol perked up their ears, focusing their internal energy on the acupoints near their ears to hear better.

“Well, it worked out. I guess you could say that. Anyway, yeah.”