Here is a refined, tightened version that preserves the tone, hierarchy, and emotional weight while sharpening authority, flow, and character voice. I've kept it copy-ready and faithful to the novel's style.
Refined Version
Chilling.
No—terrifying.
Even the swordsmen of the Namgung Clan, those who knew Namgung Dowi best, could not hide their momentary confusion.
Young Lord…
They had never denied it. No matter what anyone said, Namgung Dowi was the rightful successor of the Namgung Clan. He was the one destined to lead them after the Lion Sword, Namgung Hwang.
But the meaning of that acknowledgment had always carried a quiet condition.
They followed Namgung Dowi not because the current Namgung Dowi was worthy of leading them, but because they believed that one day—someday—he would become a swordsman comparable to Namgung Hwang.
Yet the presence Namgung Dowi radiated now shattered that assumption completely.
A sharp, skin-piercing aura.
And behind it, a crushing pressure that bore down on them all.
When did the Young Lord become like this…?
Even those who had devoted their entire lives to mastering Namgung sword techniques felt their breath catch. It was as if the shadow of Namgung Hwang himself had been cast upon the present.
"Young Lord…"
"I said," Namgung Dowi cut in coldly, "if anyone has complaints, step forward."
The voice that came from his mouth was not merely cold—it was utterly devoid of emotion.
The swordsmen swallowed hard, the hair on their bodies standing on end as they stared at him.
"Is there truly no one who will step forward?"
His gaze swept over them slowly.
Those who lacked the courage to meet his eyes hurriedly turned their heads away the moment his gaze landed on them.
When his eyes finally stopped, they settled on the swordsman standing before him.
"Namgung Bi."
"…Yes, Young Lord."
"Are you dissatisfied because all the glory goes to the Alliance and Hwasan?"
"I…"
Namgung Dowi spoke again, his expression unchanged.
"Are you truly so resentful that they receive glory—glory that would not even exist without them?"
"…"
"Even if you are dissatisfied, while we are employing every possible means to fight Sapaeryeon, is such glory really that important?"
"Young Lord…"
"Do not spout such foolish nonsense."
Namgung Dowi ground his teeth.
"Glory alone will never restore the name of Namgung. The only thing that can restore our name is strength. No matter how great our reputation becomes, if we fail to surpass the Namgung of the past, it will all be nothing but a castle of sand."
His voice hardened.
"Even if the world scorns us. Even if it ignores us. If we surpass the Namgung of the past, our name will shine again—brighter than ever."
At those words, Namgung Bi lowered his head deeply.
"If you are so attached to hollow notions of glory, then use that time to swing your sword. A swordsman speaks only through his blade."
His eyes flashed.
"Is that not the way of Namgung?"
"…Yes, Young Lord."
"And."
Though Namgung Bi had already surrendered, Namgung Dowi had no intention of stopping.
"If you truly call yourselves members of the Namgung Clan, then prove yourselves as people before you prove yourselves as swordsmen."
"…"
Namgung Dowi's icy gaze pinned them in place.
"What would my father have said if he saw you all right now?"
No one answered.
"I would rather die as a proud human being than live clinging to glory."
His voice was calm, unwavering.
"That is the way of Namgung. That is the path my father walked."
The swordsmen of Namgung lowered their gazes in silence.
After glaring at them for a moment longer, Namgung Dowi turned his eyes to those who had been watching nearby. They, too, immediately bowed their heads when their eyes met his.
Without another word, Namgung Dowi walked past the stunned swordsmen.
After a while, Tang Soso—who had been quietly following him—finally spoke.
"Wasn't that a bit much?"
"…Do you think so?"
"A little."
"Even beasts know gratitude."
"…That's true, but…"
Tang Soso glanced back with faint anxiety.
"I understand how they feel. They have to risk their lives in a fight where they can't even claim the glory."
That reluctance was only natural. Martial artists lived for fame and renown. To strip that away was akin to stripping them of their reason for living.
Even if individual fame remained possible, raising one's sect was just as important.
Namgung Dowi glanced at her.
"That's unexpected."
"What is?"
"With your temperament, I thought you'd want to skin them on the spot."
"…What kind of person do you think I am?"
"Not what kind of person, exactly—but."
Namgung Dowi smirked.
He wasn't surprised. Just as he had changed, Tang Soso had changed as well. The Tang Soso of the past would never have bothered considering another person's perspective.
It was strange.
Chung Myung seemed selfish at first glance, yet the people around him gradually became more selfless.
That contradiction was precisely what made him interesting.
"You're right," Namgung Dowi said. "But that's exactly why this has to be done."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because this is what Chung Myung Dojang wants to eliminate the most."
Tang Soso frowned slightly.
"Glory?"
"Yes. More accurately—the structure where a single sect monopolizes credit and fame."
"Hmm."
"Judging by his actions and his responses, his intentions are obvious."
Tang Soso nodded slowly.
"It's dangerous."
"Yes. Especially against Sapaeryeon."
She nodded again. There was no room for misunderstanding.
"So even if it causes friction, it must be done. Even if it means standing against other sects—including Namgung."
"…You're saying you'll play the villain?"
"If necessary."
Namgung Dowi paused, then smiled faintly.
"No. I will."
Tang Soso sighed deeply.
"To be honest—this might sound strange coming from a Hwasan disciple—but I don't understand it. Why should the Young Lord of Namgung go out of his way to do something good for us?"
"Because this isn't for Hwasan."
Namgung Dowi met her eyes directly.
"This is for all of Gangho."
She had no rebuttal.
Then, suddenly, Namgung Dowi smiled—lighter, almost playful.
"I think that's a good enough excuse, don't you?"
"Yes?"
"The truth is, I just want to do it. Maybe I'm repaying a debt. Or maybe…"
He chuckled.
"I'm just irritated watching someone else rack his brain over everything."
"…Sahyeong?"
"Yes."
Tang Soso's eyes grew curious.
Inside Hwasan, people fled at the mere sight of Chung Myung. Yet outside the sect, people seemed anxious, as though they could never do enough for him.
What kind of person inspired that?
"More importantly."
"…"
Namgung Dowi lifted his gaze toward Hwaeum—the city built with his own hands as part of the Cheonumaeng.
"So I can stand in front of him properly. As an equal. Not as someone who merely enjoys what he created."
"…"
"If I can do that—even just that much—then I, too, can restore Namgung's name, just as Chung Myung Dojang restored Hwasan's."
He smiled.
"I may never match him. But half… half should be possible, right?"
"No offense," Tang Soso said dryly, "but even half of what he does isn't easy."
"I know."
That was why he was trying.
Namgung Dowi smiled.
"You look happy, considering how much trouble you've taken on."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"Hmm… Then that must be it."
He nodded, accepting it without hesitation.
"Until now, I was always pestering Chung Myung to let us join whatever madness he was involved in."
"It wasn't one-sided. You were a great help too."
"I appreciate that. But I know Namgung's situation best. I know how much Hwasan has carried us."
"…."
"It's a sensitive topic, but I don't mind."
He smiled broadly.
"Now that there's finally something I can do—something only I can do—how could I not be pleased?"
"…I was wrong."
"About what?"
"I thought you'd changed strangely."
Tang Soso smiled faintly.
"But you've changed far more than I realized."
"Is that so? Haha."
Namgung Dowi puffed out his chest.
Indeed—she was wrong.
He wasn't merely feeling good.
He was truly happy.
Dojang would never ignore this.
If Chung Myung had left this situation unattended, it could only mean one thing.
From the beginning, this role had been meant for Namgung Dowi.
For the first time, Chung Myung had acknowledged him—not just as a swordsman, but as someone capable of bearing responsibility.
Namgung Dowi felt as though his heart might burst.
"Oh? Over there."
"Yes?"
"Chung Myung Dojang is coming. Dojang! It's been a while!"
Spotting Chung Myung approaching in the distance, Namgung Dowi beamed and waved.
Chung Myung noticed him as well and came running with a wide grin.
But something feels…
Tang Soso felt a strange sense of unease—like leaving an inn without paying the bill.
"Dojang! Thank you so much for coming to greet us. I didn't even get the chance to properly thank you for last time—"
Thud.
Chung Myung's foot slammed squarely into Namgung Dowi's smiling face.
As Namgung Dowi fell backward, Chung Myung climbed on top of him, teeth clenched.
"You bastard! I finally caught you!"
"D-Dojang…?"
"I was too busy back then to beat you properly! Do you have any idea how close our people came to dying because of you? Charging the Black Dragon King like a lunatic!"
"Well, I mean… I was grateful, and that's all in the past—"
"Is gratitude enough, you idiot?!"
Wham!
A fist crashed into Namgung Dowi's face.
"And if you were barely patched up, you should've come running immediately! What were you doing, showing up only now? Do you think killing the Black Dragon King means your life in Gangho is over?!"
"Well… I was a patient—"
"A patient? Now I see why! You should've died back then! Why are you still alive?! Just die! Die!"
"Agh! Dojang! Please calm—"
"Shut up!"
Tang Soso clicked her tongue, unsurprised.
She had expected this.
Briefly wondering whether it was acceptable to beat a patient, she decided Namgung Dowi deserved it and turned away.
At least it's not a waste.
Chung Myung only beat people he truly cared about.
"Ugh, honestly…"
Shaking her head, Tang Soso walked off.
She decided it was better to go check on Sago and leave those idiots behind.
I