Chronicles of the Martial God’s Return - Chapter 113

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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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The Twenty Ghosts.
Whoosh!
There was something eerie about the way they cut through the wind. Each face was concealed behind a mask shaped like a demon’s visage, and the garments they wore were neither martial robes nor ordinary clothes—too heavy and formal for one, too strange for the other.
The fabric wrapping their entire bodies looked as though it should have made movement nearly impossible, yet they wielded their Light Skill without apparent difficulty, pressing forward toward an unseen destination.
The twenty masked figures spoke not a word.
They transmitted no secret messages through Inner Strength, exchanged no meaningful glances or nods—and yet they moved in perfect unison toward the same direction, as though communication flowed between them without effort.
And they were fast.
The sound of their feet striking the ground arrived only after they had already passed—proof that their speed exceeded even the noise their movement made.
These were no ordinary men.
Even after running for several Double Hours without pause, not a trace of fatigue showed in their Inner Strength reserves; one could scarcely imagine how much power they truly possessed.
The Twenty Ghosts had but a single purpose.
To faithfully execute the orders they had been given.
That alone—no other objective existed for them.
What task they had been assigned remained unclear, but their relentless forward momentum never slowed. Their eyes, meanwhile, burned with an intensity rarely seen before.

***

Jang Sam-tae slouched listlessly in the driver’s seat.
He had thought himself finally free from the coachman’s life, only to decide against returning home and commit instead to another journey south toward Hanam—a longer road still.
Though the seat had a backrest of sorts, sitting there at all was a trial; Jang Sam-tae furrowed his brow and let his complaints pour forth.
“Why in the world are we even going to Hanam?”
“I couldn’t say. The master’s orders, so we go.”
“But you’re alright with this? You’re from the Heterodox Sect, aren’t you?”
Jang Sam-tae tugged gently at the reins in his grip, turning his gaze toward Kwon Mu-jin. The man was undoubtedly from the Heterodox Sect, and Hanam was essentially the Orthodox Faction’s holy ground.
What kind of trouble might befall them there?
Perhaps everyone would draw their blades and come rushing down upon them all at once.
Even the thought made him dizzy.
“That was a long time ago. I’ve distanced myself from the Demonic Emperor Castle.”
“Step in excrement and wipe your feet on the ground—does that mean you never stepped in excrement at all?”
…….
Kwon Mu-jin’s gaze sharpened suddenly as he looked at Jang Sam-tae.
Even his metaphors were…… crude.
‘Should I hit him?’
Tossing him out of the cart would be entertaining enough. Or perhaps tie a rope around his waist and make him run alongside. Either way, Kwon Mu-jin’s mind filled with schemes to torment this damnable Demonic Cult wretch.
Had Jang Sam-tae sensed that dangerous undercurrent?
He turned his head away and began to whistle innocently.
In the end, Kwon Mu-jin let out a long sigh and opened his mouth.
“The same goes for you, doesn’t it? You may not have received formal Martial Arts training, but consider who it is that has been refining you all this time.”
“Huh? Some senile old man—who else?”
‘This one truly lacks self-awareness.’
Kwon Mu-jin shook his head slowly in resignation.
“Mindless as you are…… the simple fact remains that you yourself are now a pillar of the Demonic Cult. From their perspective, you’re no different from a disciple of the Demonic Emperor himself.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Now you’re just joking. That can’t possibly be right.”
“Good grief…… how pitiful.”
As Kwon Mu-jin exhaled a long breath, Jang Sam-tae broke into a cold sweat. The look on his face suggested he wasn’t speaking lightly.
Yet no matter how Jang Sam-tae turned it over in his mind, it still didn’t make sense.
He had never learned the Demonic Cult’s Martial Arts, merely received guidance from some rambling old fool; to be treated as his disciple was beyond his comprehension. Jang Sam-tae simply could not fathom how the Martial World’s inhabitants reasoned.
Then, from behind, Dan Woo-hyun’s voice called out.
“The sun seems like it will set soon. Are we still far from any village?”
“It looks as though we have quite a bit further to go. Besides, the path here is treacherous, so we cannot make good speed.”
Dan Woo-hyun nodded at Jang Sam-tae’s words.
Several Double Hours had already passed since they boarded the cart. While hunger could be managed with simple provisions, Dan Woo-hyun’s heart was set on finding a comfortable place to rest, if only for Dan So-mi’s sake.
But given the difficult terrain, he had been driving carefully, and delays seemed inevitable.
Dan Woo-hyun gazed upward at the sky.
Deep within these mountain passes, daylight faded faster than usual.
If they could not reach a village before dark, it would be better to find shelter nearby and spend the night in the open.
“Scout the area for a suitable place to camp for the night.”
“Yes, understood!”
Jang Sam-tae answered with vigor and slowly brought the carriage to a stop. It was exactly the moment he’d been craving to stretch his back, so Dan Woo-hyun’s words fell on him like sweet honey.
He chuckled to himself and gave a long, luxurious stretch.
Then he moved quickly with Kwon Mu-jin, scouting the area nearby. One cannot simply sleep anywhere when resting without shelter—a place where wild animals wouldn’t venture close.
A place with few snakes and insects.
A place with level ground where one could rest comfortably.
One had to know how to choose such a location.
Finding a good spot for an outdoor rest was Jang Sam-tae’s specialty. He’d slept in all manner of places during his homeless childhood.
“Master! This place should do nicely.”
He spotted a suitable location and went to find Dan Woo-hyun, who soon arrived and surveyed the surroundings before nodding with satisfaction.
This much, at least, I do well, don’t I?
Chuckling to himself, Jang Sam-tae cleared the sleeping area and gathered firewood to start a flame. Soon the party gathered in small clusters around him, and using ingredients they’d brought along, he prepared a meal.
Though simple fare, it beat eating dried meat.
“Mmm, this is delicious.”
Watching Dan So-mi eat with such delight, Jang Sam-tae felt immense joy. The pleasant thought drifted through his mind—perhaps he ought to open an inn someday.
Rustle.
The sound of someone approaching came about half a double hour later.
Sa Do-hak, Namgung Cheon, and Dan Woo-hyun seemed to have sensed it long before, but Kwon Mu-jin, belatedly catching the presence, swiftly drew his blade and fixed it on one direction.
‘Fierce.’
A side of Kwon Mu-jin entirely different from his usual self.
Is that what a true martial artist looks like?
Impressive, but terrifying as hell.
“Who’s there?”
Jang Sam-tae turned his head toward the sound and called out without hesitation, his tone making it clear: you know we’re aware of you, so don’t play games—come out.
After all, there seemed little point in attempting anything against the people gathered here.
With a sharp parting, the brush gave way and a group emerged into view.
The moment one of them appeared, Kwon Mu-jin’s blade swept out, its edge trained on the man’s neck.
“Ah… forgive me, but I mean no harm.”
The man slowly raised both hands and offered an awkward smile.
Despite his sharp, severe features, his tone was surprisingly gentle. Kwon Mu-jin, who had aimed the blade at him, studied him quietly before finally furrowing his brow and speaking.
“Ma Jang-gang…….”
“Haha, you know of me? I feel as though I’ve seen you somewhere before…….”
Ma Jang-gang reached up and brushed aside the blade from his neck. Then, with an intrigued gaze fixed on Kwon Mu-jin, his eyes gleamed with interest.
A blade that had flown remarkably fast.
Because there was no killing intent, he hadn’t attempted to block it, but if it had carried murderous qi mixed within it, wouldn’t the situation have become quite difficult? Where on earth had such a person come from?
From the way the name was spoken, it seemed he’d been seen before…….
“Hehe, the Nang Wang? How curious to meet again in a place like this.”
Namgung Cheon laughed heartily.
Ma Jang-gang, observing his reaction, finally drew on his memory. Now that he thought about it, they wore the same garb as those people he’d seen at the inn.
No matter how poor one’s memory, one wouldn’t fail to recognize those masked individuals.
If that’s the case, then……
As his gaze swept across the group, he saw it.
The small child named Dan So-mi.
Beside her stood a man clinging closely to her, and from the way he stayed attached to her side, Ma Jang-gang surmised he must be the girl’s father.
Ma Jang-gang’s lips curved into a slight smile.
“I am Ma Jang-gang. I was searching the area for a place to rest outdoors when I caught the scent of something delicious and was drawn here. If it’s no trouble, might I join you?”
With that single phrase, Ma Jang-gang observed everyone present.
His gaze naturally drifted to the man beside Dan So-mi.
That settled it.
That man was the one leading this entire group.
“The Central Plains aren’t my personal possession. Does it matter who sits? Help yourself.”
“……Aha, thank you.”
Ma Jang-gang regarded Dan Woo-hyun with an odd look.
Speaking casually on a first meeting?
His mood had begun to sour slightly. But watching the little girl beside him bow respectfully, he broke into a grin. The poor impression of Dan Woo-hyun that had formed in his mind seemed to melt away.
“I saw her at the inn last time too—what a charming child. Is she your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“I see. I once had a daughter about her age. I suppose that’s why I acted carelessly at the inn.”
There was no one present who didn’t understand what lay beneath those words.
In the end, it meant that daughter was dead.
It was a peculiar matter, certainly, but none of those gathered seemed inclined to pry into another’s affairs—they simply nodded and asked nothing more.
“What are the rest of you doing? Offer your greetings and sit down.”
“Ah, good day to you. I am Ho Jeong.”
“Man Ho.”
The one observing those who offered their introductions was none other than Dan So-mi. Now that she thought about it, wasn’t this Man Ho the same fellow who’d bellowed so loudly at the inn?
Was that memory making her uneasy?
Dan So-mi squirmed hesitantly and burrowed into Dan Woo-hyun’s arms.
In the meantime, Ma Jang-gang’s companions settled themselves around the space, chattering softly. At Dan Woo-hyun’s command for food, Jang Sam-tae grumbled even as he distributed generous portions to them all.
“Still, it’s quite rare for the Nang Wang to move directly. Is there some matter of urgency?”
Namgung Cheon posed the question that had been gnawing at him most.
Given his familiarity with Ma Jang-gang’s reputation, it struck him as decidedly strange. Managing the wanderers ought to be burden enough without him personally taking the field—it suggested something grave was afoot.
“……Do you know of those called the Twenty Ghosts?”
Dan Woo-hyun fixed his gaze upon Namgung Cheon and Sa Do-hak.
Neither appeared to recognize the name; they shook their heads. Jang Sam-tae made no secret of his bewilderment, and Kwon Mu-jin too showed confusion at hearing it for the first time.
“They are beings clad in strange garments and wearing goblin masks. Several months past, the corpses of wanderers began appearing, and it’s said these Twenty Ghosts were present at each site.”
“Are they simply bandits who’ve inserted themselves into the disputes of martial artists?”
Dan Woo-hyun asked with a slight smile.
Bearing the title Nang Wang, he seemed to believe himself duty-bound to look after the wanderers—so it stood to reason he’d taken to the field directly to capture those responsible for the unrest among them. At least, that was what crossed Dan Woo-hyun’s mind.
Namgung Cheon and Sa Do-hak evidently thought the same.
Otherwise, the Nang Wang’s direct involvement would have been rather extraordinary.
“No, that is not it. When disputes arise, it is natural for them to resolve of themselves, is it not? I too believed as much…… but those slain wanderers—their corpses……they’ve transformed into something like the Wooden Appearance……”
At those words, Sa Do-hak’s eyes widened.
It so happened that among the disciples of the Demonic Cult, several had been attacked by something unknown, and their bodies had transformed into the Wooden Appearance—which was why he’d ordered an investigation.
Yet he composed himself.
Tianshan and this region of Anhui were considerably distant. Moreover, in the dispatch received from the Demonic Cult just before arriving in Anhui, word came that such corpses were still being discovered there.
It would be impossible for them to traverse from Tianshan to Anhui in a single bound, and he had a strong desire to learn more of what was happening.
“So you pursue them?”
“Yes, we did manage to track them as far as Anhui……but after that, their trail went cold.”
Then Dan Woo-hyun spoke.
“So you took us for them, I gather.”
“Well……you are wearing masks, after all.”
Ma Jang-gang shrugged, his smile awkward yet guarded, his eyes betraying the readiness to draw his blade at the slightest provocation.
“But upon reflection, you seem far removed from those we seek.”
“I’m grateful for the assessment.”
Dan Woo-hyun let out a soft laugh and leaned his back against the tree. With one hand gently stroking Dan So-mi’s hair while his gaze drifted to the sky, there was something unsettling in the gleam of his eyes.
‘The Demonic Absorption Art, then.’

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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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