Chronicles of the Martial God’s Return - Chapter 144

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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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They moved in silence, like cats stalking prey.
Blade gripped in one hand, eyes gleaming with hunger, they surveyed the darkness. When nothing stirred, they slipped into the dwelling.
Inside, the steady breathing of sleeping people filled the air.
The moment he sensed it, the man’s grip tightened on his blade. He crept forward with exaggerated care, raising his sword above those who slumbered.
Swift death. That was the way.
Did he harbor hatred for his targets?
No. Nothing of the sort.
Only orders.
Kill every human being you see.
He followed that command without question.
Even if it meant discarding a martial artist’s pride, he obeyed without hesitation. And so his arm descended with all the force he could muster.
Then—
Pop!
A faint sound echoed through the room.
He spun toward it in shock, and in that instant, a pinhole burst through the wall, something glimmered, and a Finger Technique struck his brow with brutal force.
Thud.
The man collapsed, bewildered.
Not even death could grant him understanding of what had occurred. The Finger Technique had arrived at a speed far beyond his ability to comprehend.
“That makes five?”
Outside the dwelling.
Sa Do-hak stood motionless, humming to himself. His expression showed disappointment at dispatching so few—merely five—yet it was clear that others had positioned themselves all around.
“The dead are pitiful, but one cannot save everyone…….”
Sa Do-hak clicked his tongue.
He was moving as swiftly as possible. But given the sheer number of Ma Dok-jin’s subordinates, saving every soul was simply beyond him.
Though he’d struck down five in the blink of an eye, he’d already glimpsed the corpses of two or three civilians—sprawled in the streets or lying dead in their rooms.
Regrettable, perhaps, but such was their fate.
Sa Do-hak turned his head.
Another shadow stirred in the darkness.
The moment that faint sound reached his ears, a grin spread across his face.
Among the noises emanating from every direction, he located the nearest. Those who became his targets were remarkably fortunate—they alone would survive.
Sa Do-hak launched himself forward.
His Lightness Skill carried him to the source of the sound in an instant, and before his opponent could even register his presence, Sa Do-hak’s hand extended.
Crack!
A casual palm strike shattered the man’s skull.
Fragments flew in all directions, and the sensation that tingled through his hand brought a flood of memories—his days in the Martial World long ago.
He was alive.
Ever since ascending to the pinnacle of the Demonic Sect, he’d engaged in no true combat. For one who craved blood as Sa Do-hak did, standing in shadow and issuing commands paled against this—the thrill of killing with his own hands.
‘This is why I cannot leave!’
Sa Do-hak laughed softly to himself, a low chuckle.
Then he hurled himself forward once more, toward wherever he sensed movement.

Meanwhile, Namgung Cheon swallowed hard.
There weren’t many dwellings in this quarter, but bound by the Righteous Path, he was determined that no innocent should fall. This conviction drove him to push beyond his limits.
His sword was already drenched in blood. Even when he wiped it clean, fresh gore caked it at once—the effort had become pointless.
Their target was the Government Office.
Whether they’d aimed for it from the start rather than striking the scattered homes, they pressed toward it with singular purpose.
Cutting them down from behind proved effortless.
Slash!
Each swing of his blade painted the darkness with light.
Bodies fell apart as though cleaved by a blade through tofu, entrails spilling in dark cascades. Before his companions could even register the loss, his sword found its mark, severing life with precision and leaving only corpses in its wake.
“Good heavens, there are so many…….”
Namgung Cheon exhaled in disbelief, wiping his blade as he surveyed the carnage. Just around the Government Office, there must have been twenty of them clustered together.
He’d felled roughly ten already—which meant at least thirty had converged on this place. It laid bare Ma Dok-jin’s desperation to exact revenge upon Dan Woo-hyun.
But Namgung Cheon planted himself in their path.
He stood motionless, barring their advance.
Then, raising his meticulously cleaned blade, he pointed it toward his enemies.
“Do you wish to proceed?”
“…….”
“To go in, I’d need to see the old master’s corpse, but it doesn’t look like you lot can manage that.”
Ma Dok-jin’s men said nothing.
They simply exhaled killing intent toward their opponent and adjusted their grip on their blades.
Among the people in that estate, the ones to be most cautious of were Kwon Mu-jin and the master of the house, Dan Woo-hyun. Everyone else was trash — or so Ma Dok-jin had said, but somehow the situation was playing out differently than expected.
A man who appeared to be their commander adjusted his sword.
“Kill!”
In the same breath he barked the order, he rushed toward Namgung Cheon.

“Ahhhhh!”
“Hii…… Hiiiiick! P…… Please, let me live!”
The Red Light District.
The street was in utter chaos.
Those fleeing desperately had desperation etched across their faces. Though they longed to escape this place and dodge those blades any way they could, the swift swords of the masked figures shattered their hopes without mercy.
Splurch!
Blood sprayed, and carnage erupted.
Powerless common folk.
Men of wealth and authority.
Wanderers with modest martial training.
Bandits and criminals.
Though many kinds of people mixed in this space, the swordplay of these armed men was so brutally swift that no one could mount a defense.
The Red Light District had become a living hell.
Bodies piled up in every corner.
Blades fell without distinction of age or gender, creating a scene of absolute pandemonium, and from all around came nothing but cries of despair.
“These…… these bastards!”
The moment Namgung So-hye saw what was happening, she rushed forward. Drawing her blade, she moved with dazzling grace toward the masked killers, her form cutting through the chaos.
Changcheon Muae Sword.
The supreme technique that was the Namgung Clan’s pride bloomed into full flower.
Clang-clang-clang-bang!
The sword aura that poured forth toward those murdering innocents reached a level their blades could not withstand. Her training sessions with Namgung Cheon had borne fruit; even to Dan Woo-hyun’s eye, her Sword Technique had grown sharp indeed.
“Interesting.”
Dan Woo-hyun watched with fascination.
She cut down one masked figure and immediately answered another’s advance. Once, even moving would have been beyond her, but now Namgung So-hye extended her blade as though she were reading their every movement.
Gae-an, they called it.
The realm where one glimpses the opponent’s movements the instant their blade appears. It was a threshold every master must cross, and it had been the special gift of Nam Ju-ryeon, once counted among the Three Thousand Elite.
Still unsteady, but unmistakably, Namgung So-hye had set her foot upon that threshold.
“Wh…… who is she? That person…….”
“W, we’re alive……!”
“Ooh…… ohhhh.”
Gasps of wonder rose from all directions at once.
The moment the masked killers’ attention turned toward Namgung So-hye, the people who had gained a reprieve widened their distance and watched the spectacle unfold.
Even as she faced the attacks of countless masked figures, she parried with composure, redirected their force with ease, and struck at their openings with flawless precision.
‘That talent won’t go anywhere, will it.’
Dan Woo-hyun smiled and turned his head.
Now, where had that one gone?
Kwon Mu-jin was nowhere to be seen. He’d ordered him to pursue Ma Dok-jin, so he’d likely chased after him. Feeling the wind gently, Dan Woo-hyun walked deeper into the Red Light District.
Crack!
He struck the face of a lunging masked figure.
The man flew through the air like crumpled paper, his body smashing through a brothel wall before embedding itself within. It was inhuman.
“I’m leaving this to you. Think you can manage?”
“Of course I can!”
Namgung So-hye gripped her blade and nodded firmly.
If she couldn’t handle this, she had no right to call herself a Swordmaster. The numbers were somewhat overwhelming, but she was the inheritor of the Sword Technique of the Namgung Clan, a prestigious Orthodox Faction house — she could never retreat.
“I am Namgung So-hye! The Namgung Clan has come to aid you!”
One of the wanderers recognized her face and shouted the news aloud. Whether they knew martial arts or not, everyone knew the name Namgung Clan, and hope kindled in people’s eyes.
“Go! I’ll hold the line here!”
“……Don’t worry — I’m going whether you tell me to or not.”
Emboldened by the crowd’s cheers, Namgung So-hye raised her thumb with confidence. Dan Woo-hyun, though somewhat exasperated by her manner, decided that confidence was better than doubt and strode casually forward.
“Come on! I’m Namgung So-hye — you’ll face me!”
Her voice rang out from behind him.
Dan Woo-hyun felt goosebumps rise across his entire body.
They say blood never lies…….
But where in the blazes were these fools?
Dan Woo-hyun walked forward slowly, ignoring the shouts echoing from behind.

“Haa…… haa…… haa…….”
Kwon Mu-jin gasped for breath, his Twin Daggers gripped tight in his hands. Before him stood Yuk Gyeom-sa, and behind him, lounging at ease, was Ma Dok-jin.
Drip.
Blood streamed from his left eye—not a scratch, but a grave wound. The blade had cut deep; he could see nothing from that side anymore.
“Tsk, tsk. You followed all the way here with skills like that?”
Yuk Gyeom-sa laughed, hollow and mocking.
He’d expected Dan Woo-hyun to come first, but this was an unexpected turn. Still, since Kwon Mu-jin was the priority, it hardly mattered.
Torment him slowly, then finish him.
Yet something rankled.
The one-eyed man’s gaze wasn’t fixed on Yuk Gyeom-sa standing before him—it was directed at Ma Dok-jin behind, the killing intent in those eyes locked solely on Ma Dok-jin.
As if he didn’t even register Yuk Gyeom-sa’s existence?
How irritating.
Yuk Gyeom-sa let out a hollow laugh and swung his blade.
Thwack!
“Ungh……!”
The blade buried itself in Kwon Mu-jin’s thigh, and he groaned through clenched teeth. For a moment his legs threatened to buckle, but sheer willpower kept him upright, refusing to yield.
“Madman.”
Ma Dok-jin muttered, watching.
Still an unsettling one. He’d thought that after dying and returning once, the man’s spirit would have been broken somewhat—but if anything, he’d grown only more vicious, his nature unchanged.
Ma Dok-jin rose from his seat.
“I’ll sever your head and present it to Father. Your persistence in remaining alive has worn my patience thin.”
“Ha…… haha, you mad bastard…… a useless fool who can’t do anything alone—”
Ma Dok-jin’s brow twitched.
Was he serious?
The audacity left him momentarily speechless. Clearly the man resented that Ma Dok-jin had used Yuk Gyeom-sa instead of stepping in himself.
But indulging such provocation was beneath him.
Ma Dok-jin laughed it off carelessly.
“That eye of yours—I hate it. I think I’ll gouge it out for you.”
Yuk Gyeom-sa nodded at Ma Dok-jin’s words.
He’d been finding that eye objectionable anyway. Simply cutting it out seemed dull; perhaps this time he’d tear it free instead.
He grinned wickedly and stepped forward, reaching out his hand.
Then.
Crack!
A violent blow struck his face, and the world spun. Before he could even process what had happened, Yuk Gyeom-sa’s body was hurled through the air—more than fifteen paces—and crashed to the ground.
What—?
What just happened?
Ma Dok-jin stared blankly ahead.
And then he saw.
Since when had he been standing there?
Before him, as Yuk Gyeom-sa lay sprawled and unconscious, Dan Woo-hyun stood motionless, looking down at his broken form with quiet contempt.
Then, slowly, his foot rose and came down hard upon Yuk Gyeom-sa’s face.
Crunch!
“Gaaaahhhhh!”

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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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