Namgoong Soryong stepped toward the front of the funeral procession.

Amidst the shocked gazes of all, he faced the procession and clasped his fists in salute.

“To my uncle... no, to the Young Clan Head of the Namgoong Clan, Namgoong Soryong offers his respects.”

He was taller and sturdier than four years ago.

Just as Seolhwa had grown, so too had he changed beyond recognition.

As everyone stood in astonishment, Chief Steward Namgoong Mun stepped forward, blocking his path. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

“This is not a place for you. Leave at once.”

It was an unmistakable expulsion. Yet Namgoong Soryong did not retreat.

He only bowed his waist courteously.

“I refrained from visiting during the mourning period, lest it cause offense. But was he not once my grandfather, whom I respected? Please, grant me permission only to follow at the very end of the procession.”

His voice was polite, and Namgoong Mun hesitated, unable to reply immediately.

For his demeanor was utterly unlike the boy he remembered, leaving him unsettled.

At that moment, Cheongun approached.

“Let him.”

“Young Clan Head.”

“Did Father not also cherish Soryong? He would not disapprove.”

“But...”

Cheongun stepped past the Chief Steward and addressed Soryong.

“Stand at the rear of the procession. Do not cause unnecessary disturbance.”

“Thank you, Young Clan Head.”

Soryong led his party to the end of the line.

With Namgoong Mucheon gone, Cheongun was the highest authority, and so Namgoong Mun could do nothing but step back.

Namgoong Soryong and the Yeon Family retinue passed by.

Woong turned his head away, unwilling to meet Soryong’s eyes. Cheonghae likewise averted his gaze as though he had seen nothing.

And so, amidst slight unrest, the funeral procession began to move.

At the fore were the Flying Phoenix Unit, once the direct martial guard of Namgoong Mucheon, led by Seop Mugwang—followed by the Black Dragon Unit and White Dragon Unit.

Immediately after came the bier of Namgoong Mucheon, as though the Namgoong Clan’s martial units were guarding him even in death.

Behind the bier followed the direct descendants of the Namgoong Clan.

After them, the Lords and Elders.

Then came the Red Dragon Unit and Blue Dragon Unit, with the Inner Hall guards followed by the Outer Hall martial forces.

Behind them walked the collateral branches of the clan.

Then the retainers.

And finally, at the rear, the Yeon Family’s party led by Soryong.

“Alas... Clan Head....”

“Hrrgh... With the Clan Head, life was bearable....”

The streets of Anhui became a sea of tears.

Crowds lined up, wailing and throwing themselves to the ground as the bier passed.

There was not a soul in Anhui who had not received the Namgoong Clan’s protection and aid. Thus all grieved the death of their great pillar, their Clan Head.

“Alas... Alas....”

“Clan Head... our Clan Head....”

The procession continued.

So too did the endless wails of grief.

Seolhwa lifted her gaze to the sky.

Heavy dark clouds gathered, as though ready to spill rain at any moment.

The oppressive air pressed down upon Anhui, already drowned in lamentation.

It was as if even the heavens grieved the death of the Namgoong Clan Head.

****

When the funeral rites were complete, everyone returned to their duties.

Namgoong Cheongun, through a council held immediately afterward in Cheonho Hall, was formally instated as Clan Head.

With Namgoong Mucheon’s sudden absence, all matters of the clan had ground to a halt, and someone was needed to bear the burden swiftly.

“There remain but seven days until the Assembly. Would it not be better to delay its date?”

At the Chief Steward’s words, Cheongun, seated in the Clan Head’s chamber sorting the backlog of affairs, lifted his gaze.

“Now that you mention it, letters have arrived «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» from various factions, have they not?”

Since the news of Namgoong Mucheon’s passing, messages had poured in, inquiring whether the Assembly would still be held.

They assumed that with Namgoong Mucheon gone—the one who had organized it—the Assembly must surely be canceled.

“Send replies.”

Cheongun met the Chief Steward’s eyes, steady and unwavering.

“The Assembly will proceed without issue.”

The Chief Steward, startled, repeated in disbelief.

“You mean... you intend to continue with the Assembly as planned?”

“The Assembly of the orthodox factions was Father’s long-prepared undertaking. Even if I cannot fully inherit his will, I cannot let it end here.”

“But...”

“I too, by Father’s side, have seen, heard, and learned much. The time is short, yes—but it will be enough to prepare.”

Cheongun’s expression was resolute.

Even without Namgoong Mucheon, he was determined to see the Assembly succeed.

“...The former Clan Head would be proud.”

A bitter smile touched Namgoong Mun’s lips.

Though days had passed since the funeral, he still could not believe Namgoong Mucheon was gone.

Perhaps he had simply entered seclusion.

Perhaps he had gone on some matter outside.

Perhaps, given time, he would return, silently taking his place once more.

But when such thoughts ended only in the reminder of his absence, the crushing emptiness that followed strangled his chest.

“Hehh....”

Namgoong Mun quickly turned his head as tears welled.

“Chief Steward.”

“This foolish old man... Forgive me. Seeing the new Clan Head leading so firmly, I could not help myself....”

He sniffled, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

“May I take a moment for air?”

“You may return to your quarters and rest, if you wish.”

“No. There is a mountain of work to be done. I cannot be selfish. I will return shortly.”

He bowed lightly and departed.

No sooner had he left than a knock sounded on the chamber door.

It was Namgoong Cheonghae.

“Brother.”

“Come in.”

Cheonghae laid a stack of books heavily upon the table.

Cheongun looked at him inquiringly.

“Records of the clan’s mechanisms and formations for defending the main estate. I thought it time to review them.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything I can assist with?”

He came to Cheongun’s side.

“When it comes to clan matters, I have some familiarity. Allow me to help where I can.”

“...Thank you.”

Cheongun did not refuse.

Cheonghae had once assisted Namgoong Mucheon in handling clan affairs, so he could be trusted all the more.

As Cheonghae selected tasks from the pile that he could handle, Cheongun straightened his back and let out a long sigh.

“...I wonder how Father bore all of this alone.”

“He was a man of uncommon strength.”

“And so he strained himself....”

Cheongun left the words unfinished and fell silent.

Cheonghae, too, worked silently, hands moving swiftly.

Cheongun turned his gaze to the cloudy sky beyond the open window.

Two black birds struggled to beat their wings against the heavy air.

“Cheonghae.”

“Yes, Brother.”

“Have you seen Soryong?”

Cheonghae’s hands paused.

Namgoong Soryong had not returned to the Yeon Family even after the funeral procession.

He had not remained within the Namgoong Clan either, but word of his presence lingering in Anhui had already reached within the clan’s walls.

“What should I say to him if we meet? There is nothing to say, nor do I have the heart to see him.”

“Are you truly all right?”

“I cannot say I am, but still....”

Cheonghae gave a faint laugh.

“Remarkable, isn’t it? That he came at all, for the funeral of one who had once been his grandfather. To return to the place from which he was cast out—it cannot have been easy.”

“...I see.”

As promised, Namgoong Soryong had merely followed at the rear and attended quietly, causing no stir.

When Namgoong Mucheon’s coffin was covered with earth, he had even shown sorrow.

It seemed it was not only his body that had grown over the past four years.

“And Woong....”

“?”

“He agreed to meet him.”

Cheongun’s eyes widened.

“Woong, with Soryong? Who asked first?”

“Soryong sent word. I refused, but Woong said he wished to see him. He had always looked up to his elder brother—it seems his heart could not let it rest.”

“Woong....”

That Woong had accepted Soryong’s request was unexpected.

With his upright character, most like Namgoong Mucheon himself, one would think Woong would never wish to see Soryong again.

“But then....”

They had parted in chaos four years ago, without even a proper farewell.

Even if he had been a child knowing nothing, thirteen years was not a span easily erased.

Even passing ties endure—thirteen years of bonds cannot be severed at once.

“Where did they agree to meet?”

“At the guest quarters of the main estate. I thought that safest.”

“Well done.”

Though he did not wish to doubt Soryong, it was best to be prepared.

He even considered sending escorts for Woong, when Cheonghae spoke.

“Brother, it is well to worry for Woong—but should you not also worry for Seolhwa?”

“Seolhwa? Why? Has something happened to our Seolhwa?”

Cheongun leapt to his feet, startled.

Cheonghae looked at him for a moment before answering quietly.

“It has been three days already.”

“What has?”

“Seolhwa has remained at Father’s grave.”

Cheongun sat back down with an “Ah.”

“What can we do? It has become her regret, that she could not be by her grandfather’s side at the end.”

“What if something truly happens to her?”

“Lord of the Flying Phoenix Unit is at her side. She will be fine.”

Cheongun gave a bitter smile.

“For now, all we can do is wait.”