My Father Is the Number One Under Heaven - Chapter 14

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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 14. A Night in Sacheon
Bang! Crack-crack-crack-crack! Boom!
A barrage of explosions erupted in succession, shaking the establishment from within.
It was an exchange of staggering speed and ferocity.
Dang Mujun’s varied Hidden Weapons streaked through the air.
He pressured every space where Yeo Unhwi might position himself, forcing his way in with projectiles.
And simultaneously, Dang Mujun’s heavy Hand-to-Hand strikes arrived at breakneck pace, so that at first glance the bout appeared to be Dang Mujun pressing Yeo Unhwi back in overwhelming fashion.
But the truth was entirely otherwise.
‘This can’t be.’
Dang Mujun’s eyes trembled with intensity.
The masked opponent evaded his every attack by the thinnest margin, blocked them, and deflected them aside.
If it had been merely a handful of coincidences, then Dang Mujun would rightly be dominating this fight.
But after dozens of exchanges, the man remained untouched—not even a thread disturbed by Dang Mujun’s onslaught.
Moreover, no matter how unconventionally he attacked, every single strike was nullified by that same hair’s-breadth margin.
Which was to say that what appeared to others as lightning-swift attacks from Dang Mujun looked painfully slow to this man’s eyes.
The moment that thought crystallized, ice crept down Dang Mujun’s spine.
His opponent was holding back.
Holding back against Dang Mujun himself—legendary as the finest talent in the history of the Sacheon Dang Clan.
It was a sensation he had never experienced in his life.
People called it bewilderment.
In truth, Dang Mujun had already sensed that his brother Dang Guhwi was orchestrating something tonight.
So he had positioned himself at a distance from Cheongwharu to observe the situation unfold.
And yet—
‘What in the world is this?’
Suddenly, from the topmost floor of Cheongwharu, an enormous aura descended.
A vast power unlike anything he had felt before.
Yet within it, Dang Mujun sensed something above all—a pure, crystalline Qi.
So he judged that the one who had appeared where his brother was must be a former master who had long since withdrawn from the Murim. And from the Orthodox Way at that.
There was no other explanation that made sense.
And yet what was this?
The masked, unidentified master possessed a ruthless, vicious hand technique that contradicted that pure Qi he had sensed.
In terms of the poison in those hands alone, even the Sacheon Dang Clan—second to none in lethal craftmanship—would have to yield in awe.
Moreover, despite the mask, the opponent was young.
Anyone could discern that much.
Unless he was a master from the Young Age Period, restored to full power.
Perhaps that explanation made more sense.
That alone would account for this overwhelming strength.
‘I cannot win. Not against this man.’
Yet a smile bloomed unbidden at the corner of Dang Mujun’s mouth.
Standing against an opponent of such bewildering strength awakened something different in him.
The joy of pouring forth his power without restraint.
In that instant, Dang Mujun’s gaze transformed.
“Haaah!”
Drawing in a deep breath, Dang Mujun’s movements doubled in speed from before.
Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack-crack-bang!
Circling Yeo Unhwi at tremendous velocity, an uncountable torrent of Hidden Weapons poured from Dang Mujun’s fingertips.
Ting-ting-ting-ting! Boom!
The force and velocity with which he released the weapons had transformed utterly from moments before.
As Yeo Unhwi retreated swiftly, Dang Mujun closed the distance in an instant and drove a fist forward.
The moment he thought it connected, a Rising Kick arrived from an entirely unexpected angle, snapping Yeo Unhwi’s head back.
‘Did I land it? No, it didn’t feel—’
There was no impact registered at his foot.
Yeo Unhwi’s head righted itself from its backward tilt.
A small smile played at his lips.
‘He dodged even that.’
He hadn’t even managed to strip away his composure.
Breath escaped Dang Mujun’s nostrils.
He withdrew backward.
Dang Mujun gazed quietly at Yeo Unhwi.
He cannot be beaten. Not now. Not by this man.
Whether Yeo Unhwi saw him as worthy or merely toyed with him, Dang Mujun could not say—but he felt the weight of defeat settle over him.
‘Dang Mujun…….’
Yeo Unhwi already knew who he was.
The greatest talent in the history of the Sacheon Dang Clan, a name known throughout the entire Murim even before the Regression.
Above all, he was renowned for his exceptional sense of Righteous Chivalry.
In those days, when Yeo Unhwi had been a Blood Demon, the very mention of Righteous Chivalry made him sneer.
What else could he do? To him, the Orthodox Way and the Demonic Path were little different—all the same breed of hypocrites.
So whenever he heard words like the Orthodox Way, Righteous Chivalry, or martial honor, rage would boil up inside him.
He had never once seen anyone who truly upheld such things.
But Dang Mujun was different.
Before the Regression, Dang Mujun had never become the Sacheon Dang Clan’s patriarch.
That had been Dang Guhwi.
After that, Dang Mujun had left the clan and spent every coin he possessed to operate a small village for orphans, the elderly, and the destitute.
It was chance, but Yeo Unhwi remembered the one time he had owed him a debt.
Not knowing his true identity, Dang Mujun had offered him food.
He had shaken his head and refused, but Dang Mujun had not been offended—he had wondered if Yeo Unhwi feared poison, and so he ate the food himself in front of him to prove it safe.
Then he brought fresh food and set it down, saying only that Yeo Unhwi should eat at his leisure before quietly withdrawing.
The stronger the hostility, the brighter kindness burned in memory afterward.
That day was among the rare ones when the Blood Demon Yeo Unhwi had eaten in peace and slept soundly.
Yet here he stood, meeting Dang Mujun in this place of all places.
Of course, he had considered that their paths might cross someday.
But to meet him under circumstances like these—
His feelings were hopelessly tangled.
And more than anything, he was astonished. By that talent.
In their brief clash just now, Dang Mujun had broken through one shell and grown.
In that short span of moments.
How far such a man might reach was difficult to fathom.
While Yeo Unhwi gazed upon Dang Mujun with admiration, the reverse was true—Dang Mujun felt the sting of defeat with desperate clarity.
Dang Mujun’s eyes first turned toward his fallen brother, then shifted to the masked man.
He drew a long breath, then spoke slowly.
“Perhaps that should be enough now.”
“My revenge is not finished.”
“How far do you intend to take this revenge?”
“Until he feels the greatest suffering in the world.”
“Then let it end here.”
“Hmm?”
“My brother has already suffered grievous wounds at your hand. It will take him a long time to recover his martial prowess—very long indeed. At an age when the Young Age Period is still fitting, even a brief stagnation could see him fall far behind his peers. In this regard, the severity of my brother’s injuries will bring him considerable hardship.”
Dang Mujun continued.
Being left behind at such a critical time, when every other youth of his generation was racing ahead, would be a crushing blow.
The injury Dang Guhwi suffered would condemn him to serious decline.
For someone as arrogant as Dang Guhwi, to be cast aside entirely would be a profound torment.
That was the first part.
“Furthermore, the full extent of whatever filthy deeds he and those villainous men have committed in this place will be brought to light—completely and undeniably.”
If that happened, Dang Jinwu, the clan patriarch who had been in secluded training, would have no choice but to act.
Then Dang Guhwi would lose not only his position as heir apparent but everything—and face severe punishment.
In fact, Dang Mujun had repeatedly sought out Dang Guhwi, hoping against hope that such a day would never come, offering him warnings disguised as mere words.
It was the best he could do as a younger brother to his elder.
But Dang Guhwi had pushed him away and refused to listen.
And so all of this had come to pass.
Now, already defeated himself, Dang Mujun could only pray that this masked master would accept his proposal.
“Very well. I’ll do it your way.”
Yeo Unhwi, who had seemed to be weighing the matter, nodded his head.
At once, Dang Mujun’s face brightened.
Yeo Unhwi, too, had judged that it was far better for Dang Guhwi to live in wretchedness, bearing the punishment for the sins of his lifetime, than to be killed outright.
But—
“Still, there’s one thing.”
Yeo Unhwi turned his gaze toward Dang Mujun.
“Everything is fine, but one thing doesn’t sit right with me.”
“What is it……?”
Dang Mujun’s face showed confusion as Yeo Unhwi turned away and looked down at the prostrate Dang Guhwi.
“The possibility of recovering your martial arts.”
“……!”
“I’ll grant you everything you ask for. But this—I’ll have my way with this.”
“Wait, hold on!”
But before Dang Mujun could so much as open his mouth, Yeo Unhwi had already crossed to where Dang Guhwi lay crumpled, seized him by the collar, and hauled him upright.
Then, placing a hand near Dang Guhwi’s Dantian and applying force,
Crack-crack-crack.
A terrible sound tore through the air.
It was the sound of Dang Guhwi’s Dantian shattering completely, splintering into fragments.
“…Kuh—kuhhhhhhhh!”
A broken Dantian represented the moment every martial artist dreaded most—the abyss of despair, agony beyond measure.
Dang Guhwi, who had been unconscious, clawed back to awareness through pain that transcended even that threshold, and screamed again.
Dang Mujun rushed toward Dang Guhwi, whose whole body trembled violently, tears and spittle streaming down his face, and struck a Pressure Point to render him senseless once more.
Without doing so, he might well have died from the agony itself.
“Did it really have to go that far?”
Dang Mujun fixed Yeo Unhwi with an resentful gaze.
“This was mercy. I originally planned to tear him limb from limb far more brutally than this.”
“What grudge could possibly be so deep?”
“Far deeper than you could imagine—deeper than you could ever comprehend.”
Yeo Unhwi answered without the slightest tremor in his voice, his eyes steady upon Dang Mujun.
“Do you think I’ve gone too far?”
“I do. Considerably so.”
“Then let me ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Where were you, what were you doing, while your brother went about causing all manner of havoc?”
“What do you mean? Of course I tried to stop him.”
“You tried, within your own narrow bounds of morality. And when it didn’t work, you simply accepted it and moved on, didn’t you?”
“……!”
“And your brother—he left home and beat down anyone he came across. Today alone, I hear he severed the tendons in an innocent man’s legs. Do you even know about that?”
“That was—”
“You stand on the side of righteousness by your own measure of right and wrong. But all you’ve shown is hypocrisy. You’ve never had the spine to truly stand against that madman and prevent him from hurting anyone else. Instead, you’ve merely watched as unarmed people died and wept blood, all because you were anxious about severing family bonds or bringing shame upon your clan. You were a bystander, nothing more.”
Yeo Unhwi had not wanted to say such things to Dang Mujun.
But he had asked for answers, and Yeo Unhwi was laying bare the truth.
“You still know nothing. You only mimic righteousness on impulse. In my eyes, you’re still merely a bystander.”
Which is why Yeo Unhwi hoped he would understand faster and change.
In this life, it seemed you were destined to become the patriarch of the Sacheon Dang Clan.
A different future would unfold from your past life.
You had the potential to become such a man.
Dang Mujun stood in stunned silence, unable to speak.
He wanted to cry out that it wasn’t so, again and again, but the words would not come.
It felt as though his innermost thoughts had been laid bare.
‘What am I, really……’
Yeo Unhwi watched him quietly.
What kind of life would you lead in this lifetime?
Yeo Unhwi found himself genuinely curious.
Suddenly the commotion outside grew louder.
It seemed a crowd had gathered in force.
It was time to withdraw.
“I’ll take my leave now.”
“Wait—”
In an instant, the masked figure vanished from sight.
Dang Mujun turned his head, searching.
The man’s movements were so swift and elusive that even Dang Mujun’s eyes could not follow.
He could only laugh bitterly at the thought.
“What in the world.”
Dang Mujun’s gaze turned toward Dang Guhwi, who lay unconscious on the ground.
“What kind of monster has my brother made an enemy of?”
Dang Mujun simply stared at the night sky with hollow eyes.
The moon shone brilliantly over the darkened expanse of Sacheon.

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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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