The Council of Elders of the Mount Hua Sect convened for the first time since the recent generational shift. The elders, each a master of martial arts and head of a key position within the sect, gathered in one place.

Mu-jin, the head of the Chunmae Pavilion, spoke up. “Senior Brother, everyone is here.”

Mu-hui, the head of the Mount Hua Sect, settled into the seat of honor and glanced around. “Where’s Mu-cheol? Hasn’t he caught those scoundrels yet?”

Mu-cheol had descended the mountain to capture the Blood Twin Demons, notorious martial artists who had fled from the Baekri family and crossed from Shanxi to Shaanxi.

Mu-sang replied, “We’ve received word that Senior Brother Mu-cheol has beheaded the two and is on his way back. He should arrive the day after tomorrow.”

Nodding, Mu-hui addressed the elders. “Let’s begin the meeting.”

As if waiting for this cue, Mu-ryun, the head of the Finance Pavilion, began his report. “Thanks to increased donations from secular families, contributions from commoners, and expanded support from various merchant groups, especially the Cheonryu Trading Company, our budget has grown significantly this year. I’ve allocated the funds accordingly.”

Mu-hui reviewed the summarized ledger and nodded. “Is this thanks to Miss Im becoming the head of the trading company? The scale is incomparable to the past.”

Im Su-ryeon had outmaneuvered her siblings to become the leader of the Cheonryu Trading Company, strengthening the bond between the company and the Mount Hua Sect.

“Yes, and when we select the third-generation disciples, some from the Cheonryu Trading Company will join as secular disciples, so they likely want us to pay special attention.”

When the topic of third-generation disciples came up, Mu-hui turned to Mu-jin. “How are the preparations at Chunmae Pavilion?”

“Everything is proceeding smoothly as planned. We’ve expanded Chunmae Pavilion and other halls, so accommodating more people won’t be an issue.”

“Focus on quality over quantity. Weed out those who show signs of trouble early on, regardless of talent, background, or status.”

“Of course.”

The reports from the elders continued, and Mu-hui handled the matters with the efficiency of a martial arts master.

“Are you planning to produce more of the Zihadan and Zisodan pills?”

“Yes, Senior Brother. If we stock up on these elixirs while our finances allow, it will benefit future generations.”

Mu-ho, the head of the Alchemy Pavilion, glanced at Mu-hui and Mu-ryun for approval. While he managed most affairs independently, decisions about elixir production required consensus.

After a moment of thought, Mu-hui looked at Mu-ryun. “Can we allocate more funds to the Alchemy Pavilion?”

Mu-ryun flipped through the ledger and nodded. “Yes, it’s feasible. However, I’ll discuss the exact costs with the head of the Alchemy Pavilion.”

Though it seemed to pass without issue, Mu-ryun maintained the meticulous attitude typical of finance heads.

‘Senior Brother Mu-ryun has become even more particular with age,’ Mu-ho sighed, knowing he’d have to negotiate for at least an hour to secure the necessary budget.

Mu-hui reviewed the reports and narrowed his eyes. “Mu-san, why is the production of the manuals so slow?”

Mu-san, the head of the Martial Arts Pavilion, flinched. “Senior Brother, it’s taking time to interpret and annotate the martial principles.”

“Is it really that difficult?”

Mu-hui’s incredulous look made Mu-san’s head spin. “No, that’s not it. It’s just that with the constant creation of new techniques like the Five Petal Plum Blossom Sword, Falling Flower Palm, and Invisible Mountain Hand, our workload keeps piling up.”

Mu-san sighed deeply, feeling the weight of being the elder most burdened by Mu-hui’s relentless innovation. Whenever Mu-hui devised a new technique, he tasked Mu-san with organizing it into a manual for the disciples.

The disciples of Chunmae Pavilion, including Mu-san, had grown accustomed to working through the night.

Seeing the fire in Mu-san’s eyes, Mu-hui nodded and shifted his gaze. “I’ll come help after my duties are done.”

“You always say that, but then you go off to train.”

“This time, I mean it.”

The council meeting was nearing its end.

The final report came from Mu-sang, head of the Intelligence Pavilion. “There’s nothing unusual in Shaanxi or among the secular martial sects. We’re keeping an eye on three new sects that have recently emerged.”

The Intelligence Pavilion was a new organization Mu-hui had established during his time as a first-generation disciple. Previously, the Mount Hua Sect relied on open information or borrowed insights from secular sects. Mu-hui created this organization to systematically manage information and enhance the sect’s external activities.

Mu-sang, who enjoyed traveling, was the perfect fit to lead it, overseeing information management across the martial world.

“There are several invitations for you, Senior Brother, but the dates overlap. You’ll need to choose one.”

Mu-hui reviewed the three invitations Mu-sang handed him and smiled. “Naturally, I’ll go to this one.”

Mu-sang, having anticipated Mu-hui’s choice, nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

* * *

Sword Peak Mountain.

Once a solitary hut where the Sword Demon and the Sage trained together, the mountain had transformed significantly. A series of pavilions now stretched along the mountain’s natural defenses, creating a formidable fortress bustling with martial artists.

A family that had settled on Sword Peak Mountain was holding a founding ceremony.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a commotion at the back.”

Martial artists climbing the mountain turned to see what was causing the stir and were taken aback. A group of Mount Hua Sect disciples, clad in black robes embroidered with plum blossoms, was ascending the mountain with a commanding presence. Leading them was a young man.

“Are those the elders of the Mount Hua Sect?”

“So many elders appearing at once!”

“But who is that young man leading them?”

At someone’s question, the surrounding martial artists hushed in shock.

“Young man? Have you been in seclusion in the mountains? That’s the head of the Mount Hua Sect!”

“The Sword God! So young…”

“He’s not aged. He’s held the title of the world’s greatest since a young age.”

As the Mount Hua disciples disappeared from view, the martial artists murmured among themselves.

“The Sword Demon must be truly remarkable to draw out the leaders of the great sects like this.”

“The Sword Demon traveled extensively in his youth, building many connections.”

As the Mount Hua group passed through the main gate, familiar faces greeted them.

“Oh, Sect Leader! You’ve arrived.”

Mu-hui smiled at the welcoming figures. “Patriarchs.”

Baekri Sang, Namgung Gak, and Paeng Ho-yeon greeted Mu-hui. Just as Mu-hui had become the sect leader, they had risen from young masters to heads of their respective families.

“The Sect Leader remains ageless.”

“Seeing the Sect Leader makes me feel like I’m back in my youth.”

Mu-hui laughed and turned to Paeng Ho-yeon. “Congratulations, albeit belatedly.”

“Thank you. I’m sure my grandfather would be pleased.”

The martial world now spoke of the Four Great Families instead of the Three, with the newly recognized fourth being the Paeng family of Hebei.

“Ah, so everyone’s gathered here. It’s been a while.”

Mu-hui and the patriarchs turned to the familiar voice and greeted the newcomer with smiles.

The retired head of the Sichuan Tang family, Tang Gi-ho, approached with a leisurely gait.

“It’s a bit awkward being among the younger crowd.”

“Have you come as well, Elder? I heard the current head of the Tang family is here too.”

Tang Gi-ho chuckled and nodded at Mu-hui’s words. “Of course, I had to come. The Sword Demon helped Sichuan so much. It would have been better if the Sword Society had settled in Sichuan.”

As more people gathered around Mu-hui, eager to make an impression on the world’s greatest swordsman and the leader of the foremost sword sect, he finally met the person who had brought the Mount Hua elders to Sword Peak Mountain.

“Sect Leader! Elders, welcome.”

Dokgo Yul greeted Mu-hui and the Mount Hua elders warmly.

“I suppose I should call you Patriarch now.”

Mu-hui smiled at Dokgo Yul, who returned the gesture.

“Senior Brothers!”

The elders turned at the familiar voice. From a distance, Mu-hwa unfurled her dark red robe, matching Dokgo Yul’s martial attire, and landed gracefully beside him.

Mu-hwa had married Dokgo Yul, transitioning from a main sect disciple to a secular one. The Mount Hua Sect, not being strict about the divide between the main sect and the secular world, had facilitated the process with the sect leader’s approval.

“Now the Wandering Sword Hero will settle quietly on Sword Peak Mountain.”

“Yes, Mu-hwa. Support Patriarch Dokgo well. Your role is crucial in this newly established family.”

Mu-san and Mu-ho’s advice made Mu-hwa smile. “I know, even without you telling me.”

Mu-hwa glanced at Mu-hwi and the other elders, a warm smile playing on his lips.

“Thank you all for coming, my brothers.”

“It seems marriage has finally matured you, Mu-hwa.”

“Indeed. To hear a ‘thank you’ from the youngest is quite something.”

Mu-ryun and Mu-sang exchanged amused glances, their laughter echoing in the room.

Mu-hwi turned to look at Dokgo Yul and Mu-hwa. “Bring the child to Mount Hua when he turns ten. I’ll personally oversee his training.”

“As expected from our senior brother!”

The atmosphere among the long-separated brothers was nothing short of harmonious.

The inauguration ceremony proceeded smoothly.

Once all the formalities concluded, the guests gathered at the main gate. Dokgo Yul addressed them with a steady voice.

“As you all know, our family began with the Dokgo Association, a gathering of those without homes, hometowns, families, or friends. Though not bound by blood, we united under a single surname to protect our newfound home and family.”

Dokgo Yul glanced at Mu-hwi.

“Thus, we named our family after the Dokgo Association. We are grateful to the head of the Mount Hua Sect for gifting us the plaque that will bear this name.”

At Dokgo Yul’s nod, the attendants, faces flushed with pride, unveiled the plaque at the main gate.

The martial artists squinted at the sight.

“Hmm?”

“There’s nothing written on the plaque?”

“Was there a mistake?”

As murmurs spread among the crowd, Mu-hwi stepped forward.

“This plaque is made of pure black iron. It won’t be easily damaged.”

The martial artists murmured in admiration.

Mu-hwi drew his sword from his waist. As the legendary sword of the Sword Saint was unsheathed, a hush fell over the crowd.

“May this family, like this plaque, remain unbroken and untarnished, upholding the meaning of its name for generations.”

The sword moved gracefully in Mu-hwi’s hand.

Though no energy was infused into the blade, gentle marks began to appear on the plaque, following Mu-hwi’s movements. The martial artists watched, eyes wide with awe.

Despite the sword carving into the iron plaque, there was no harsh sound of metal being cut, as if it were merely slicing through wood.

The martial artists quietly marveled at Mu-hwi’s skill.

Each stroke was crafted with care.

Soon, the bold and vigorous characters etched into the plaque read:

Dokgo Family (獨孤世家).

As the four characters came into view, Dokgo Yul turned to the martial artists and bowed.

“I, the head of the Dokgo Family, thank you all for witnessing the beginning of our family.”

The martial artists returned the gesture with respect.

* * *

“How far have you progressed with the Dokgo Nine Swords?”

“I’m training on the final technique, but I’m not there yet.”

Mu-hwi nodded.

“The last technique is not easily mastered. You must refine it and leave your insights for the Dokgo Family.”

“Yes, Master.”

Mu-hwi gazed at the Dokgo Family estate nestled in the Sword Peak Mountain.

“It’s quite impressive.”

Mu-hwi and Dokgo Yul strolled through the estate together.

“If we’re going to do this, we must do it right. Establishing a family is no small feat, and it’s taken us this long to achieve it.”

Even in times of peace, the Dokgo Association never rested. They had traversed every corner of the martial world. Dokgo Yul had finally succeeded in settling the wandering association in one place.

Dokgo Yul pointed to a small pavilion in a quiet garden.

“Master, shall we go there?”

Mu-hwi and Dokgo Yul walked along the pond’s edge to the pavilion.

“A memorial hall? You’ve built this already, even though you’re still alive?”

Inside the memorial hall, Mu-hwi looked at the sole ancestral tablet.

Dokgo Heon (獨孤䞿).

“The highest place in the Dokgo Family’s memorial hall should be reserved for you, Master.”

A name long forgotten.

Only Dokgo Yul remembered it.

“I see I’ve become part of the family you’ve created.”

“Indeed, it’s the Dokgo Family, after all.”

“Yes, it is.”

Mu-hwi gazed intently at Dokgo Heon’s tablet.

Then, in a soft voice, he said, “Thank you, my disciple.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Master and disciple stood shoulder to shoulder, looking at the tablet together.