Chronicles of the Martial God’s Return - Chapter 17

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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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When Jang Sam-tae returned to the Manor, he hurried to Dan Woo-hyeon and breathlessly explained everything he had witnessed.
The situation in Ak-yang appeared far from ordinary, and since he himself was directly and indirectly involved in the Black Sword Society’s affairs, his ashen, sickly complexion showed no sign of lifting.
“So such a thing has come to pass.”
“Those Black Sword Society dogs won’t sit idle, I’m sure of it. What are we to do?”
Jang Sam-tae stole a glance at Dan Woo-hyeon’s expression.
If Dan Woo-hyeon stepped in, the Black Sword Society would be nothing but a meal to be devoured. Relief flooded through him, yet the bitterness of his own powerlessness—his dependence on Dan Woo-hyeon—was inescapable.
“What exactly are these Black Sword Society fellows?”
“A band of vagrant martial artists, sir.”
“Hong Won-chang explained it the same way.”
Dan Woo-hyeon’s brow furrowed deeply. That mere vagrants could run wild to such an extent was beyond his comprehension.
A vagrant is a vagrant. True, there were capable ones among them, but they had undeniable limits.
It was not strange for such men to band together for their own security, yet the notion that they could expand their power to this degree defied logic.
“Explain this Black Sword Society to me in detail.”
“Well…… there’s nothing particularly distinct to tell, really. It’s such a secretive place that we common folk only know fragments here and there.”
“Tell me what you do know.”
Jang Sam-tae nodded.
It was simple enough. He recalled the gossiping dilettantes and began to unfold their tales as he had heard them.
“The Black Sword Society was founded, it’s said, some fifty years past. No one’s certain who the Society Master is, though some claim he made enemies of the Nine Sects and One Clan, while others say it was founded by someone from the Demonic Sect.”
“Nothing concrete, then.”
“No, indeed. In any case, at first no one paid them any mind, but this Society Master’s talents proved so formidable that he swiftly built a power capable of threatening even the great sects.”
“How infuriating for them.”
Dan Woo-hyeon let out a soft laugh.
An unexpected power suddenly appears and threatens them—for the great sects and noble clans who prize stability, there could be nothing more vexing.
What came after was predictable.
“Exactly so, haha! In the end, the Eight Great Families pressed, the Martial Alliance moved to answer, and those who fled to escape became the Black Sword Society of today.”
“The patterns of the Martial World are all much the same.”
Dan Woo-hyeon nodded with the expression of one who had expected nothing less.
Fascinating.
The Martial Alliance, he had been told, was founded by the pillars of the Orthodox Sects. To have evaded their pursuit meant this Society Master was surely a man of extraordinary intellect.
‘In the old days, even that would have been impossible……’
The Martial World of the past and the Martial World of the present were not one and the same.
Though both bore the same name, the present age was far more peaceful. In those days, it was many times more ominous and brutal. One could walk a road and find corpses of the dead scattered here and there.
Since no order had yet been established in the Central Plains Martial World at that time, such chaos ran deeper still.
The Nine Sects and One Clan, the Eight Great Families, the Demonic Sect, or bands of Heterodox cultivators—
each walked their own path, yet with blurred identities, they waged war each and every day.
And yet mere vagrants had formed an organization?
Had such a thing been known in those days, the vagrant band would have been crushed without mercy the moment the news spread.
There was no special reason required. Those who loved to display their might would simply have obliterated them as a matter of casual dominion.
In that sense, the Martial World of today was far too tranquil.
Dull and without savor.
Not from familiarity with this Manor life, but from the very tales he heard—he felt as though he had stepped into an entirely different world, not the Martial World he knew.
“That…… what will you do, sir? The magistrate will be in considerable trouble, I fear.”
“Leave it be.”
“Yes? But the Manor itself may come under threat.”
Jang Sam-tae’s words were not without merit.
Though he had sworn never to breathe the name Dan Woo-hyeon beyond his grave, torture would loosen his tongue inevitably.
In time, the Black Sword Society would converge upon the Manor.
Dan Woo-hyeon alone would scarce concern him, but Hwa So-mi dwelt here. The child could find herself in mortal danger.
Yet Dan Woo-hyeon shook his head.
“Wind flows naturally. One cannot twist it by force, so all things must flow as they will, without interference.”
Jang Sam-tae stared at Dan Woo-hyeon with a dazed expression.
In that moment, he felt a sensation so vast and distant that it stole his very breath—a feeling of standing before something not quite human.
Like a phantom that would scatter if one dared to reach out and touch it, a presence that seemed to exist beyond the material world.
With reverent heart, Jang Sam-tae turned away and murmured to himself:
‘A madman.’
Suddenly, some incomprehensible thing.

***

Tension etched itself across Hong Won-chang’s face.
He had to escort the Black Sword Society members to the Imperial Court. Knowing their methods, he was certain something would go wrong along the way.
Hong Won-chang gnawed at his fingernails, anxiety eating at him from within.
He’d hoped the Royal Court would send troops to accompany them, but Wang Ya showed no inclination to do so. The fact that the Court lay on the road to Beijing had only made matters worse.
“If only I could ask that great martial master for help……”
Anxious and restless, Hong Won-chang’s thoughts turned to Dan Woo-hyeon.
With him at his side, there would be nothing to fear. Whether the Black Sword Society attacked or even the Demonic Sect itself descended upon them, he could face it without worry.
But asking for help was not easy.
Whenever he faced Dan Woo-hyeon, an inexplicable dread crept over him. Already uncomfortable in the man’s presence, the added weight of that fear made his current predicament all the more unbearable.
Hong Won-chang released a long sigh and slumped back in his chair.
How was he to manage this?
Then.
Screech—!
Something sharp pressed against Hong Won-chang’s throat.
“Ugh!”
“You’re Hong Won-chang, aren’t you?”
A voice cold as the grave whispered from behind him—not quite human, more like the call of death itself. Gooseflesh bloomed across his entire body as his heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach.
Hong Won-chang knew instantly who they were.
“The…… Black Sword Society.”
“Good guess.”
Panic seized him.
The constables he’d stationed here were far more numerous than usual—the perimeter so brutally tight that not even an ant could slip through—yet here they were, having crossed the threshold without a single alarm sounding.
Hong Won-chang forced down his fear and tried to bluster.
“You fools! Do you think you’ll walk away from this unscathed?”
“Very much so. As for those you were supposed to take with you—they’re already dead by now. Once you’re gone, who will ever know what happened here?”
Whoosh—!
The moment the man finished speaking, several figures emerged from the shadows of the room. Their faces hidden behind black masks, their eyes alone blazed with a cold that made your blood freeze.
Gulp.
Hong Won-chang swallowed hard.
It had come to this.
The worst had arrived.
“Take him.”
The men pressed vital points along Hong Won-chang’s body.
He could neither speak nor move. All he could do was submit to whatever they had in store for him.
They wound him tightly in black cloth.
The moment someone hoisted him onto their back, Hong Won-chang felt the sickening rush of incredible speed.
He had no idea where they were taking him or by what route, but they evaded every single constable without detection.
Part of him wished someone would come to his aid, yet another part prayed no one would. The garrison had no one capable of facing these men.
All that would come of resistance were corpses.
Thud—!
Then, abruptly, he was thrown to the ground.
The cloth unwound from his body, and his vision cleared. They were in some remote mountain wilderness.
All he could see were the cold stares of masked men and the blade-like aura radiating from them.
Then a chill wind swept across, and a man appeared.
Unlike the others, this one carried an alien quality that set him apart. His gaze alone made Hong Won-chang’s entire body tremble, forcing him to lower his head without meaning to.
“County Magistrate Hong Won-chang?”
“Y-yes.”
“There’s no need to introduce ourselves……”
Bang Chu-gok, the Deputy Chieftain.
He drew a short sword from his robes.
Slip—
The sharp sound of the blade unsheathing cut through the air.
Gooseflesh erupted across Hong Won-chang’s body, his hair standing on end. The low, approaching footsteps of Bang Chu-gok filled him with inexplicable terror.
“I brought you here because I have questions for you.”
Which meant that if he had nothing to ask, Hong Won-chang would already be dead. These men certainly possessed the power to make it so.
Hong Won-chang’s voice trembled as he asked.
“W-what is it you want to know?”
“No matter how I think about it, I cannot understand. Changbai Mountain and the Dark Merchants—those I can accept. But that you and your petty officials struck our Black Sword Society’s branch office—that makes no sense at all.”
“……!”
“Then someone is backing you. Now, will you open your mouth willingly? Or shall I pry it open by force?”
“I… I know nothing.”
It would be easier if he talked.
If he confessed everything, they might grant him a painless death. Yet he also knew he could not break his promise to Dan Woo-hyeon.
In truth, the weight of Dan Woo-hyeon’s name pressed heavier than any of these men before him.
‘I swore to carry this secret to my grave. How could a man of honor speak out of both sides of his mouth?’
This much he would keep at any cost. Had it not been for Dan Woo-hyeon, he would have died at Changbai Mountain’s hands long ago. That he lived at all was solely his debt. His life was already forfeit.
“How long will he remain silent……?”
Yet Bang Chu-gok was skilled in torture. From childhood he had learned the art of loosening tongues. That was why he had been sent here, and failure had no place in his mission.
Should he take the eyes first? Or slash the wrists?
Peeling skin away piece by piece held its appeal, but this man possessed no Internal Energy and had undergone no mental training like the Martial World elite—he could not be broken by the same methods.
Hong Won-chang looked sturdy, but his spirit was weak.
With that judgment made, a simpler approach came to mind.
“Do you know what this is?”
Bang Chu-gok withdrew from his sleeve a pure white powder and held it up. It seemed at first glance like an ordinary medicine, but there was no reason to produce medicine in a circumstance like this.
Hong Won-chang’s expression turned uncertain.
“It is the Confessional Drug.”
A substance that induced severe hallucinations. Inevitably, a man caught in those visions would find his tongue loosening without his own will.
Even the leader of the Martial Alliance, should his Internal Energy be sealed and the drug administered, would have his mouth open within moments—Bang Chu-gok had absolute faith in this.
The moment Hong Won-chang’s face turned deathly pale, Bang Chu-gok blew the powder toward him.
Whoosh—
The white powder engulfed Hong Won-chang’s face. In that single breath, it vanished in an instant through his eyes and ears, nose and mouth.
There was no time to defend himself.
In moments, Hong Won-chang’s body began to tremble violently.
“It works quite well, it seems? To be honest, since it’s still experimental, I had my doubts.”
“That old fiend created it. His skill is so renowned that even the Tang Clan yields to him. There’s no reason to doubt this.”
Bang Chu-gok smiled coldly and studied Hong Won-chang’s complexion intently. Less than a moment had passed, yet his body shook like an aspen leaf, and foam flecked his lips and nostrils.
He would not die.
He would not be left an idiot.
The one who made this drug was among the finest in all the land. Such a man had guaranteed that even with this poison, death and idiocy would not result—it could not be otherwise.
Of course, exceptions existed. But the target’s spirit was already too fragile for needless brutality. He had no desire to introduce unnecessary complications.
Bang Chu-gok approached Hong Won-chang as he convulsed and foamed, then slowly reached out, seized his hair, and lowered his voice to barely a whisper.
“Remember well. Who has been watching your back. And where that person is.”
Bang Chu-gok’s quiet voice spread softly through the space.

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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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