My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 115

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 115. Patriarch Council
“Sigh. Does this meeting never end?”
The Five Great Clans’ patriarch council had only just reached the halfway point.
Hwangbo Gyun, patriarch of the Hwangbo Clan, flipped through the stack of papers before him with such obvious tedium that his expression screamed boredom.
The list of agenda items to be addressed in today’s meeting, summarized in brief, had only just crossed the halfway mark.
Not that he’d said much of anything—truly, he’d scarcely uttered a few words—yet the sheer volume of unfinished business remaining made Hwangbo Gyun wish he could simply lose consciousness.
At Hwangbo Gyun’s grumbling, Jegal Seung, the patriarch of the Jegal Clan who was steering the council, let out a thin laugh.
“Ha. Well, two years do accumulate quite a number of matters.”
“Ugh. I can hardly breathe. Every time I take this seat, the suffering is unbearable.”
“But what can we do? We don’t gather often, and this much is simply the price we must pay.”
“I didn’t come here to hear your righteous words……”
At the words of Dang Jin-u, patriarch of the Sacheon Dang Clan, Hwangbo Gyun’s shoulders sagged as though his spirit had drained away.
In truth, over two years they’d met only three times. Hardly frequent at all.
The Five Great Clans weren’t clustered together like neighbors.
Scattered as they were across the Central Plains, meeting with any regularity was no simple matter.
Of course, should a crisis erupt, they could assemble on short notice. But such crises rarely came to pass.
The Heretical Path factions and the Demonic Sect, having maintained this balance for so long, were unlikely to suddenly declare war against the righteous Martial World without warning.
Though the Murim League and the Nine Factions might—there was perhaps some small chance of that.
“Ah, what a day.”
Resting his chin on his hand, Hwangbo Gyun waved the stack of papers about with an expression of profound reluctance.
Truthfully, Hwangbo Gyun harbored a burning desire to escape these dreary proceedings by handing the patriarch’s seat to his eldest as soon as possible.
By whatever excuse he could muster.
It would be rather amusing to watch his younger son squirm and suffer among these stuffy fellows.
But his sinister intentions would be detected in an instant by the other patriarchs, who’d known him for years, and they’d glare at him with blazing eyes.
Moreover, his son—what was the boy’s name—despised such gatherings as much as he did.
‘You’re dumping your duties on us?!’
‘So you escape while the rest of us suffer!’
‘Father! I’m not ready for this yet!’
Hwangbo Gyun found himself chuckling at the thought of the other patriarchs and his son shouting themselves hoarse.
It would be entertaining. Should he really try it?
But such fantasies had remained mere fantasies for several years now.
Setting aside whatever reasons, the truth was that Hwangbo Gyun himself knew full well his son wasn’t yet ready to shoulder a patriarch’s duties for an entire clan.
And so today, too, he reached the conclusion that it was hopeless, and with another click of his tongue, Hwangbo Gyun resigned himself.
“By the way, there’s been hot talk of the Baeklang Dae lately. Aren’t you pleased, Patriarch Peng?”
Seizing a moment of respite, Hwangbo Gyun suddenly broached a new topic. At his words, Peng Mugang gave a faint smile and shook his head.
“Hot? That talk cooled long ago.”
“No, no. Even in Sichuan, that name has grown quite famous.”
“In Sichuan alone? Across the entire Martial World—is there anyone left who doesn’t know the name?”
“After all, they felled the Absolute Demon, one of the Absolute Evils themselves. When has a single clan’s martial force ever achieved such a feat?”
Once the Baeklang Dae came up in conversation, the other patriarchs began chiming in with evident interest.
It was hardly surprising, given how extraordinary the matter was.
Ordinarily, a martial force belonging to a single clan wouldn’t venture out to suppress bandits in the region, leaving their own clan to fend for itself.
That alone was rare—what were the odds that in stumbling upon some bandit den, they’d discover the Absolute Demon hiding there?
And to actually sever the creature’s head? This was unprecedented in all the annals of the Martial World.
“Even so, it’s still too early to celebrate. That deed was nothing more than good fortune.”
Peng Mugang spoke coldly, his expression rigid.
Of course, Peng Mugang rejoiced in the Baeklang Dae’s achievement more than anyone, but before the other Four Great Clans, he deliberately feigned indifference, making light of it.
At this, Hwangbo Gyun, Peng Mugang’s closest friend, broke into a quiet laugh.
That feigned composure was transparent as glass.
“Putting on airs, aren’t we?”
“Hmph. I’m simply speaking the truth.”
“Ha. You could certainly allow yourself to rejoice openly, Patriarch Peng. But perhaps we should set that matter aside for now. There are still many other items on the agenda.”
Jegal Seung, too, was equally curious about the Baeklang Dae, but there remained other pressing business to discuss.
Jegal Seung soon moved on to the next agenda item.
“I hear Youling Shenjun has died. Killed by some unknown master, they say.”
“I’ve heard the same. They call him Unnamed, don’t they?”
“Hmm. Unnamed, then.”
The patriarchs of the Five Great Clans were already well-acquainted with that news.
It was shocking.
Who was Youling Shenjun?
Apart from the Twelve Supremes, he was an absolute master with no equal in the entire Martial World—isn’t that what they say?
And yet he’s dead. Killed by some unknown expert whose name no one had ever heard before.
It was astounding.
Though he’d never fought the man directly, it was easy enough to gauge his strength.
Several of those gathered here had earned their places among the Ten Great Masters, just as he had.
“It’s absolutely astounding. Even if we’re talking about someone else, isn’t Youling Shenjun known as one of the hardest men to kill in the entire Martial World?”
That fact had become even more widely known since the incident with Chang Gui and Youling Shenjun.
“Could it have been Chang Gui’s doing? Using a Human Skin Mask?”
Since he’d already failed once to kill Youling Shenjun, he might have done this to catch him off guard.
But Jegal Seung shook his head.
“I considered that possibility myself, but according to the reports, the Unnamed did not use a spear. He felled Youling Shenjun with a broken sword that had been lying carelessly on the ground.”
“A broken sword? Against Youling Shenjun? Good heavens. That’s nothing short of monstrous.”
At Jegal Seung’s words, Hwangbo Gyun’s eyes widened in shock.
He wasn’t the only one. Everyone present, including Dang Jin-u, made no effort to hide their amazement.
They wondered if perhaps he was one of the other Twelve Supremes, but there was no reason such individuals would go to the trouble of wearing a Human Skin Mask and concealing their identity for such a deed.
More than that, they answered to no one—they had no need to fear anyone’s judgment.
“The emergence of a new master. How intriguing.”
From what they heard, he was even quite a young man.
The filling of a vacant seat among the Ten Great Masters with a new figure was never a common occurrence.
And this wasn’t some master who had gradually made a name for himself through steady effort—he’d simply appeared out of nowhere, as if dropped from the heavens.
“At the same time, various unprecedented signs are stirring throughout the Martial World. As you can see from the agenda, we intend to address these one by one during these three days of conference.”
Everyone nodded at Jegal Seung’s words. Even Hwangbo Gyun.
He disliked conferences, certainly, but he was deeply interested in the emergence of this new master.
Soon the conference resumed, and after several matters of business, the subject of the Murim League came up.
“By the way, the Murim League seems unchanged, doesn’t it?”
At mention of the Murim League, Peng Mugang’s face, which had remained stern until now, contorted sharply.
“Tch, don’t even mention it. Honestly, just the Sarim Dan business alone made me want to march straight into the Murim League and demand answers. If that hadn’t happened, I’d have done it long ago.”
The mere name of the Murim League set Peng Mugang’s teeth on edge.
Once, like several other Clan Patriarchs here, he too had his name put forward as a candidate for the League’s leader.
But the Five Great Clans were fundamentally at odds with the Murim League—it would be no exaggeration to say they stood in direct opposition.
And they all knew perfectly well that, while his name was merely listed among the candidates, the Murim League would never actually appoint one of the Five Great Clans’ Patriarchs as its leader.
As proof, in the past several decades, not a single member of the Five Great Clans had ever become the League’s leader.
Yet it was publicly announced that the Clans’ Patriarchs were always among the candidates.
But that was merely meant to show that the Murim League bore the Five Great Clans no particular hostility or discrimination.
For that very reason, the current leader Song Il-do had almost certainly been predetermined through prior agreement.
Take this Sarim Dan affair alone.
The Five Great Clans’ intelligence network was second to none among the highest organizations.
True, compared to the Gae Bang and Hao Wen, which embraced the entire Martial World, it fell short—yet they could still obtain virtually any information they desired.
Thus they were not ignorant of the Sarim Dan’s wicked misdeeds and the troubles they caused—an organization nurtured and created by the Murim League itself.
Had they not met their end in mutual destruction with the Demonic Sect’s Black Slaughter Squad, they would have continued causing absurd problems without end.
By that measure, one was forced to wonder whether the Murim League’s decision to send the Sarim Dan to tour the great families for broadening their knowledge and learning was truly a pure and benevolent intention.
Wasn’t it possible they’d been sent to sow discord from the start?
Wasn’t it an attempt to force some pretext against the Five Great Clans, no matter how contrived?
Given the Murim League’s conduct and their actions thus far, it was entirely plausible.
It was laughable.
What on earth were they doing, those of the Righteous Faction fighting among themselves like this?
In any case, there were likely no few people who welcomed the Sarim Dan’s end alongside the Black Slaughter Squad.
Those mourning their deaths would either be the Murim League people feigning ignorance, or those who’d never even met them.
“Really, every scheme they pull is so underhanded.”
Peng Mugang found each and every machination of the Murim League deeply distasteful.
At his words, Hwangbo Gyun enthusiastically agreed and slammed the table with a bang.
“Exactly! These days I feel like I want to drag in every single one of those bastards connected to the Murim League and wring their necks! Damn it! Isn’t that right? Everyone?”
But then.
“Hmm, well, I’m not so sure about that.”
“Ahem. I can’t agree with that sentiment at all.”
“I don’t think we need go that far.”
At Hwangbo Gyun’s words, Peng Mugang and the other Patriarchs shook their heads and quietly backed away.
What?
Thinking everyone would enthusiastically agree with him, Hwangbo Gyun’s eyes went round at their unexpected response.
“Wait, what are you all saying? You don’t feel the same way?”
Hwangbo Gyun, who had been tilting his head in confusion, finally caught sight of Jegal Seung wearing a rueful smile, and his face went slack with realization.
He had forgotten that Jegal Seung’s two younger brothers held positions as investigators and inspectors in the Murim League.
“Ahem! Well, ahem! I, I seem to have misspoken.”
“Not at all. It was my own failing for not keeping better watch over my brothers.”
“Ah, no, that’s not what I— Ahem! In any case, I must apologize. Please, forget what I said just now.”
“There’s no need to concern yourself over it.”
Though Jegal Seung had assured him it was fine, Hwangbo Gyun still felt the bitter aftertaste lingering and worked his jaw once more.
Watching him, Peng Mugang chuckled with obvious amusement.
“That’s what you get for speaking so carelessly. If you’re going to be a patriarch, you ought to think carefully before letting words slip past your lips. Hmm?”
“I’d rather not hear such advice from anyone else, but especially not from the most impulsive man I know in this world.”
“What do you mean? I’m an exceedingly cautious person.”
As the two patriarchs traded jabs,
“Enough of that. There’s still much ground to cover, it seems.”
Namgung Hwan, who had remained silent until now, spoke in his characteristically stolid manner.
“Well now. As you wish.”
“The people of the Namgung Clan must find you exhausting—a patriarch who understands nothing of humor.”
“I see no point in dignifying that with a response. Let the patriarch of the Jegal Clan proceed with the meeting. Ignore these lumps of muscle.”
“What was that!”
Both Peng Mugang and Hwangbo Gyun bristled at Namgung Hwan’s blunt remark.
And beside them, Dang Jin-u sipped his tea with evident indifference to the whole affair.
“Heh.”
Nothing changed except their years. They were all exactly as they’d always been.
This was how things always went when these four gathered.
Jegal Seung let out a light laugh, then opened his mouth again.
“Well then, the next matter to discuss is…….”
In any case, these patriarchs had much to discuss in the time remaining.
And a few hours later, the first evening’s banquet finally commenced.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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