The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

“Hehehe. So you’re the one who gave those old fossils in the Council of Elders a good blow.”

The man from the Council who came to see us was actually someone from the faction supporting us. With a benevolent smile, he began explaining the current state of the Elders.

“If you want the Inner Elixir of the Human-Faced Spider, you’ll need the Council’s approval. But right now, the opinions are split down the middle. Normally, this deadlock would’ve lasted until the Head of the Tang Clan returned.”

“And now, you’re saying things have changed?”

“There’s unrest even within the Tang Clan due to the Tang Geo-ho incident and Storm of the Tang Clan. They’re worried that ignoring your presence will cost the Council its influence amidst the chaos. That’s why I’ve come with a proposal.”

The Council of Elders led the Tang Clan in the absence of the Clan Head. Losing their authority in a situation this volatile would be a serious problem. Just as planned.

“What kind of proposal?”

“Prove before the Council of Elders that Tang blood flows in your ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) veins. If it’s confirmed that your name can be entered into the succession line, then we’ll hand over the Human-Faced Spider’s Poison Pellet. Of course, it won’t be easy.”

There was no reason to refuse.

-----------

The next day, I was summoned to a Council gathering.

I stepped into a place shaped like a small amphitheater. All around, people had gathered—many more than just the Elders—just to see me.

At the front, like judges in a courtroom, the members of the Elder Council sat, presiding over the session and waiting for me.

The atmosphere was so tense it felt like I was supposed to shout something like: “My name is Kang Yun-ho! Husband of Murong Sang-ah, childhood friend of the Heavenly Killing Star, manager of Daseogak! Author of Storm of the Tang Clan under the pen name Ho-pil, and the sworn brother of a dying Poisoned One. I will have revenge the moment Hwa-rin dies!” A full-on gladiator speech.

Suppressing a chuckle at my own thoughts, I opened my mouth.

“It’s really hard to get a meeting with you people.”

Start bold. I gazed at the Elders, who were glaring at me with clear displeasure, and spoke in a low, irritated tone.

“This is not a place for your insolence! You will answer only what is asked!”

A stern old man, who appeared to be the presiding elder, shouted at me. Was this the so-called First Elder, head of the faction supporting the Young Lord?

“Ask away, then.”

“Before anything else! If it turns out your words are false, and Tang blood does not run through you! No matter who you claim to be! No matter who is backing you! For spreading the Tang Clan’s secrets, for sowing chaos within our house—we will not let you go unpunished!”

He didn’t need to say it—I’d already bet my neck the moment Daseogak temporarily closed its doors.

Seeing that I didn’t flinch in the slightest, the First Elder continued, clearly displeased.

“We’ll begin with this book in question. Are you the one who wrote the Tang Clan’s hidden history over twenty years ago?!”

“If it’s so hidden, then how come everyone seems to know about it now?”

“Just answer the question!”

“I am. I’m Ho-pil. I wrote Storm of the Tang Clan based on stories my mother told me.”

Though in truth, it was just the contents of Hyang-ah’s diary. But if I admitted I didn’t have Tang blood now, they’d probably use me as a lab rat for the Tang Clan’s Human Physiology Research Division. So telling the truth was out of the question.

“It’s true that few knew of this tale. But that alone doesn’t prove you carry the Tang bloodline. Isn’t your little friend the daughter of that lecherous bastard tied to the old tale?”

Look at them mentioning Hwa-rin like that. I felt a wave of anger surge up.

“Do not speak of my sworn friend that way! The name of the one you left to waste away on the brink of death is Tang Hwa-rin. And how, I ask you, could Hwa-rin possibly know the story of Tang Jeong and Du Eung-hyang?”

“She’s the child of the Lecher, isn’t she? She could’ve learned the details from those around her.”

What nonsense. So just being the Lecher’s child magically gives you access to your dad’s romantic history? I was just about to argue back when shouts came from the other side of the Council.

“First Elder! Do you really believe that?!”

“That’s absurd, First Elder!”

Turning to look, I saw that the faction supporting me was furious. Good. At least I wasn’t fighting completely alone.

“Q-quiet down! All I meant is that it doesn’t count as definitive proof. Which is why—we must conduct a test.”

The First Elder, flustered, tried to calm the room down.

“A test?! Just hand over the Poison Pellet already!”

“We must verify what the Medical Pavilion guards claimed. Bring it in!”

At the First Elder’s command, someone rolled a table with wheels over to me. On it, a white tablecloth, a large dish—and a giant lid hiding whatever lay beneath it.

I got a very bad feeling. No way. It couldn’t be that, could it?

The man pushing the cart glanced at my expression, then cautiously lifted the lid like he was defusing a bomb—and bolted out of the room.

As the lid lifted, a sickly sweet smell hit my nose.

I’d hoped I was wrong, but no.

“Pineapple pizza...”

The dish placed before me was none other than pineapple pizza—something only those of Tang blood were known to consume.

“This isn’t just any pineapple pizza. It has five times the usual pineapple topping.”

The First Elder declared this with pride, though I noticed his eyes twitch slightly. Yeah, even you think that’s overkill, don’t you?

“Ha.”

I let out a sigh of disbelief.

Seriously? Can we even call this pizza? No—can we even call this pineapple pizza? It’s like they dumped hot fruit onto dough and called it a dish.

“If it’s too difficult, just say so. I’ll send you to the dungeons right now.”

The First Elder sneered at me. Could you even eat this stuff? Even sewer-dwelling turtles in New York would reject this abomination.

“There’s nothing difficult about it. I’ll eat it.”

Without hesitation, I shoved that insult to pizza into my mouth. Ugh. It's so soggy. This is... this is just evil. The syrupy juice soaked into the dough and paralyzed my tongue the moment I bit down.

If there was an Italian martial artist nearby, I’d gift this to him as “authentic pizza” just to see his face.

“He actually ate it?!”

“Impossible! I like pineapple pizza too, but that much topping turns it into a biohazard!”

“Could it be... he really is a direct descendant?!”

“N-no way...”

“Well? Are you ready to acknowledge it now?”

I confidently wiped my mouth after finishing a second slice and looked directly at the wide-eyed Council.

“Kh... No! I refuse to accept it! I’ve heard black-haired barbarians eat pineapple pizza like medicine!”

“...Excuse me, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Pineapple is a fruit from tropical regions. When placed on warm pizza, it cleanses the liver and intestines and reduces inflammation. It’s written in an ancient Joseon medical text called Principles and Practice of Eastern Medicine.”

Since when did Principles and Practice of Eastern Medicine start endorsing pineapple pizza—what’s next, tuna DHA benefits?

I looked over to my supporters among the Elders, incredulous.

“Is... is that even real?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“It’s true.”

There’s no way Principles and Practice of Eastern Medicine ever said anything like that. But judging from the atmosphere, that’s not really what’s causing the commotion.

Something feels off. No one’s looking at me—they’re murmuring among themselves instead. Those oddly smug smiles... but it doesn’t feel like they’re enjoying watching me walk into a trap either.

As they continued their hushed conversation, it became clear I wouldn’t be able to count on any help.

I’d have to break through this mess on my own.

“Then how about this? Can you deny even this?”

Even if they deny Storm of the Tang Clan, even if they deny the pineapple pizza, I’ve still got one secret weapon left. I raised my hand high, showing the bracelet on my wrist with the bird insignia engraved into it.

“The Remembrance Ring!”

“That’s the Remembrance Ring said to be given only by a direct descendant of the Tang Clan!”

“So the rumors were true!”

The surrounding crowd erupted instantly into noise. Good. This one would be harder to deny.

“Quiet, all of you! I’ve heard rumors that you possess an unmarked Remembrance Ring. It’s true the Remembrance Ring is a token of gratitude only a direct Tang descendant can give.”

The First Elder spoke with a conflicted look on his face—clearly, even he found it difficult to outright deny the Remembrance Ring.

“My mother received this ring twenty years ago. From a direct descendant of the Tang Clan who was chasing down the Lecher. And twenty years ago... there was only one direct descendant chasing the Lecher.”

You all know who I mean, don’t you? Anyone familiar with the hidden history or Storm of the Tang Clan would have just one name come to mind.

I stared confidently at the First Elder, but he broke my logic with a smug smile of his own.

“That Remembrance Ring has never been officially reported.”

“...What are you saying? That this is fake?”

This was guaranteed by the Pavilion Head himself. Made in China my ass—this was made by the Sichuan Tang Clan.

“It is tradition for members of the Tang Clan to report the issuance of a gratitude token to the family. For instance, we received official notice when a token was given to a Wudang Daoist who aided the Medical Pavilion. However, the Clan Head never made any statement regarding an unmarked Remembrance Ring.”

“Don’t twist words. Saying it wasn’t official just means someone unofficially knew about it. Bring anyone who followed the Clan Head back then—they’ll testify on the spot.”

The Pavilion Head knows too. Anyone who was there back then would know.

“...Those involved at the time couldn’t attend today due to circumstances.”

The corner of the First Elder’s mouth curled upward. So they’d been intentionally prevented from attending. Blocking witnesses now? How modern of you.

The Elders who had been supporting me... are you really just going to sit there? I looked toward my faction in the Council, but though the noise had quieted, none of them said a word.

Why are they watching like this is just some exciting spectacle?

It felt like I was a beast putting on a performance in a tiger’s den—one that knows it can’t escape its fate.

But there was no need to be afraid or shrink back. To survive in a tiger’s den, you wear a tiger’s skin. I already knew no one here was a true ally.

“Does the Sichuan Tang Clan turn everyone into cripples after years of dealing with poison?”

I stared straight at the First Elder, my expression twisted in disbelief.

“What?”

“You have ears but can’t hear, eyes but can’t see. I might as well be talking to a blind, deaf man.”

Like a young tiger challenging an old one—I leaned in, aggressive and defiant.

“You insolent brat! How dare you insult the Elder Council?!”

You’re the one mocking this sacred trial. I object! What, are you going to use illegally obtained psychic evidence next? What kind of court ignores all proof and throws out every statement?

“You’ve already decided the conclusion. Are you saying this is how the Tang Clan operates?!”

“You insolent wretch! Your filthy barbarian blood defiles your mouth as much as your soul! We granted you this audience at your own request—but the crime of spreading the Tang Clan’s secrets! The crime of inciting disorder! The crime of impersonating Tang blood! These cannot be overlooked! And since you may very well be tied to Tang Geo-ho and his band of traitors—we shall interrogate you until the truth is revealed!”

By “interrogate” they mean torture.

Like hell I’m letting that happen. I activated the Soyoon Mental Resonance Technique. From deep in my chest, I pulled forth all my anger—the pain of seeing Hwa-rin left to rot, the fury that dragged me this far.

“You would dare interrogate me—a man with the blood of the great Sichuan Tang Clan—on mere suspicion?!”

My roar, empowered by spiritual force, exploded across the hall.

Even I was startled by the power in my voice. The thunderous bellow echoed through the chamber, drawing stunned gazes from every direction.

“I—I cannot recognize your claim of Tang blood.”

Clearly shaken by the force of my voice, the First Elder stammered.

There’s still a chance. I haven’t played all my cards yet. I’ve got more to say. I just need to choose what to unleash next. My thoughts raced. I had to survive. I had to find a way to save Hwa-rin.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Just as I neared my conclusion, the sound of applause rang out.

“I recognize it.”

It came from the heart of the Council—right from the middle of the faction supporting me.

I turned toward the sound, and there he was. A face I hadn’t wanted to see again... but also one I had.

Smiling at me.

“...The Pavilion Head?”

“I, the Pavilion Head Dang Mu-gi, who witnessed all the events of twenty years ago and watched over this child ever since—hereby testify that Ho-pil, Kang Yun-ho, carries the blood of the Tang Clan.”