Chronicles of the Martial God’s Return - Chapter 88

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Namgung Cheon gazed quietly at the signboard he had brought from Ak-yang.
A brush in one hand and ink laid out on the floor suggested he was about to inscribe something onto that signboard.
“Grandfather! You can do it!”
“Hmm… yes, yes, I shall try.”
Namgung Cheon hesitated for a long time, lost in thought, before finally extending his right hand and beginning to paint with the brush.
At first, a slight tremor ran through his hand, but it soon vanished, and his calligraphy revealed itself in majestic form.
Each stroke, every single one, was extraordinary.
The thicker portions of his brushwork held tremendous force, while the tapered ends flowed as naturally as water coursing downhill.

Lake Region Dan Family.

Merely four characters, yet the effort poured into them was immense. Cold sweat soon beaded across Namgung Cheon’s brow.
Using his right hand, not his left, to inscribe each character without error demanded such concentration that his body and spirit grew fatigued rapidly.
“Wow! How wonderful! So-mi has never seen writing like this before!”
Dan So-mi, beaming with delight, gazed at the signboard with bright, eager eyes.
At her pure, flawless smile, Namgung Cheon answered with a pleased laugh.
“Thank you. All this effort was worthwhile. Hehehehe.”
“It’s truly remarkable. I want to learn too! Calligraphy!”
“Hehe, yes, I shall teach you. This old man shall give everything to instruct you.”
Namgung Cheon appeared delighted.
He had never imagined that something he’d learned long ago during idle hours at the Murim Alliance would prove so useful. And now that his dear granddaughter, So-mi, was praising him, his joy only multiplied.
Just then, Dan Woo-hyun approached from the side, his brow furrowed.
“What is this?”
“A signboard. A gate ought to have a proper signboard, shouldn’t it?”
……
Dan Woo-hyun’s frown showed no sign of easing. The meaning of that signboard was unmistakable if one thought about it even briefly.
“I never asked you to make one.”
“Don’t be so anxious about it. Even those who are not martial families hang signboards. There was no particular intention behind what I’ve done.”
“I hope that’s the case…”
Still, Dan Woo-hyun remained uneasy. Hanging a signboard meant that anyone passing by would now recognize this place not as an estate, but as a martial family—and should any incident occur, word would spread.
‘That Lake Region Dan Family over there.’
‘That Lake Region Dan Family.’
Already his head throbbed at the thought. Yet seeing how much So-mi adored it, he could not bring himself to tell her to take it down.
“Father! We’re going to hang it? Hehe, it’ll look impressive.”
“Yes…”
How could he deny a child so filled with joy?
Dan Woo-hyun let out a quiet sigh. His gaze fell upon Namgung Cheon’s awkward smile.
“That aside—aren’t you going back? Several months have already passed.”
“Hmm… I’m sorry, but I have no intention of returning.”
Namgung Cheon muttered, his expression tinged with bitterness.
He felt sorry for his family. But he had already passed the clan to his eldest son, and though his status had diminished somewhat in the absence of the title Sword Emperor, he believed Namgung Yong was more than capable of navigating this crisis.
As a child, Namgung Yong possessed talents no less than his own, and he had the aptitude to govern and lead the clan.
If he returned, every member of the clan would once again look only to him. He had therefore decided it was better to stay away. The current patriarch, Namgung Yong, would stand firm in his stead.
“Might you allow an old man to think he has found his final resting place?”
“There is no burial ground for you here.”
“Hehehehe, then I would be grateful to be laid to rest beside Sam-cheon.”
“That is not Sam-cheon.”
“In any case, it matters little.”
Namgung Cheon spoke with genuine sincerity.
As his Internal Power dissipated, his body had begun to age rapidly. In a few more months, he would not even be able to play at sword games in Ak-yang.
His body and spirit were deteriorating—a truth he could feel keenly himself.
“At most, a year.”
Finally, Namgung Cheon dropped his head, his eyes holding that bitter light.
He had lived long.
And he had lived well.
He had inscribed his name upon the heavens, claimed the excessive title of Sword Emperor, and reached the apex of the Orthodox Path.
Though his present was humble, his past was brilliant—and so when this body crumbled to dust, he would go smiling.
His last remaining wish, though he had not reached their heights, was to be buried beside Sam-cheon, who had been like the very heavens themselves.
It was another reason Namgung Cheon had decided to remain at the Estate.
“Grandfather, are you… dying?”
Just then, Dan So-mi, startled, seized Namgung Cheon by the collar of his robe. She didn’t fully grasp the adults’ conversation, but piecing it together line by line, that was where it seemed to be heading.
Glisten, glisten—
Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes.
At the sight of her expression, as if she might burst into tears at any moment, Namgung Cheon pulled Dan So-mi into a tight embrace.
“Do not worry yourself, So-mi. People come and go by nature—it is a principle no one can halt. Though it grieves you, my dear, it is enough that you remember this old man.”
“Waaahhh—!”
Dan So-mi burst into loud sobs.
The words he’d meant to console her with had backfired instead. Namgung Cheon, at a loss, held Dan So-mi closer and looked up at Dan Woo-hyun.
It was a silent plea for help.
But Dan Woo-hyun simply knit his brow and shook his head.
“Handle it yourself. More importantly—was the Mountain Closing Poison truly that potent?”
“Heh, well, though this old man may lack in certain respects, it does seem to be quite toxic.”
This was no ordinary Mountain Closing Poison. It appeared to have been refined repeatedly, layer upon layer. There was no other way it could be this potent.
He had thought that after several months the toxicity would diminish somewhat, but this poison, which had sealed all his meridians, was instead devouring his body ever faster and with greater force.
Dan Woo-hyun’s thoughts turned to the past.
He had encountered the Mountain Closing Poison a thousand years ago.
Given the vast span of time between then and now, all things must surely have advanced accordingly.
Since the Mountain Closing Poison was devised to kill martial artists, it would have been refined all the more powerfully to ensnare those of high cultivation.
Thus, it was difficult to say the situation now resembled when Dan Woo-hyun had overcome it in the past.
Dan Woo-hyun reached out and took Namgung Cheon’s pulse. After feeling it for a long while, his brow deepened.
Certainly this Mountain Closing Poison differed slightly from the one Dan Woo-hyun knew, but it was not beyond remedy.
“If you had something like a Spirit Herb, it might help somewhat.”
“What? What did you just say?”
“I said a Spirit Herb might be able to unblock sealed meridians.”
“That… is that truly so?”
“Yes.”
“Then why in all this time have you said nothing of it?!”
Namgung Cheon’s voice rose sharply.
Until now, Dan Woo-hyun had spouted nothing but cryptic riddles whose meaning escaped him. And Namgung Cheon had spent all this time chewing over those words, struggling to drive out the Mountain Closing Poison.
Even so, his efforts bore little fruit, and feeling his strength ebb day by day, he had reached the point of abandoning the attempt at detoxification altogether.
Yet now he learns the poison can be cured?
Namgung Cheon tilted his head in confusion at the thought.
“Spirit Herb?”
“Yes, a Spirit Herb.”
“What exactly do you mean by this ‘Spirit Herb’?”
“Simple enough. An herb where spiritual energy has gathered.”
……
Namgung Cheon fell silent.
What sort of nonsense was this?
That was not why he had asked.
Spirit Herbs came in many varieties, each with different efficacies. Some possessed yin qi, others yang qi. Taking one unsuited to one’s constitution could lead to disaster.
Namgung Cheon’s frown deepened.
“Any Spirit Herb will do. After all, we seek only to borrow its properties, nothing more.”
“Any will suffice? What of elixirs? Our Namgung Clan possesses the Clear Brightness Pill, a potent spiritual medicine—”
“Something refined by human hands will not do. That is merely for increasing Internal Power, is it not?”
Namgung Cheon let out a heavy groan.
As he said, spiritual medicines were Spirit Herbs that humans had gathered and refined themselves. While they could produce many beneficial effects, including increases in Internal Power, the innate spiritual essence the Spirit Herb originally possessed would vanish.
That was precisely what Dan Woo-hyun meant.
A pure Spirit Herb.
One where everything the Spirit Herb originally possessed remained vibrant and alive.
Having thought this far, Namgung Cheon felt as though he had struck another insurmountable wall.
“It must be costly…”
“It will be.”
Spirit Herbs were inherently expensive. The finest specimens demanded payment enough to purchase dozens of estates like this one and still have coin left over.
Having sworn to sever his ties with the Namgung Clan and already being counted among the dead, he could not even bring himself to ask the clan for help.
That meant he would have to find a Spirit Herb himself.
But this was no simple task. Even those who made a profession of gathering Spirit Herbs would count themselves fortunate to find one in a year.
For someone like Namgung Cheon, who knew nothing of the matter, to stumble upon it while climbing the mountains and discover it after months of searching—that required nothing short of heaven’s favor.
“If it grows too difficult, seeking help from the Namgung Clan is also an option.”
“Heh heh heh.”
At Dan Woo-hyun’s words, Namgung Cheon merely laughed it off.
He had no wish to squander the clan’s fortune on behalf of a dying old man. Even if his Internal Energy returned, how much longer could he live?
Namgung Cheon would make an effort to seek out Spirit Herb, but he refused to cling to it desperately. He harbored no desperate attachment to life. If death came, he simply wished to spend that final moment laughing joyfully alongside those who remained at his side.
“Ah, my back’s killing me.”
Just then, Jang Sam-tae pushed open the estate’s front gate and stepped inside, rubbing his lower back. After returning from Ak-yang, he’d watered the crops surrounding the estate and caught insects, leaving his back aching and sore.
His gaze drifted to Namgung Cheon standing in the courtyard.
Dan So-mi lay nestled in his arms, her eyes swollen as if she’d been crying. The tear tracks on her cheeks were unmistakable.
“What on earth did you do to make the girl cry?”
“Heh, well, it happened.”
“This is always the problem with Murim Alliance folk. Making children weep, spreading strange rumors.”
Namgung Cheon frowned. Making her cry was his fault, certainly, but there was something sharper than usual in Jang Sam-tae’s tone.
As he prepared to set Dan So-mi down and leave, Namgung Cheon found himself curious about Jang Sam-tae’s words.
“What rumors? Strange rumors, you say?”
“You truly don’t know?”
“How would I know if you don’t tell me?”
Sam-tae scratched his head vigorously, wrestling with whether he should speak or stay silent.
Of course, it might be nothing but idle gossip from common folk, but since it concerned the Orthodox Sects—and the Murim Alliance no less—his thoughts turned toward the belief that Namgung Cheon ought to know.
“Well, you see… the current Murim Alliance Master, the Sword Emperor…”
“Moyong Hyuk-mun? What about him?”
“Word has it he neglects state affairs entirely and concerns himself only with wielding his power. They say over a hundred merchants have been coerced into bringing tribute money to the Alliance.”
“That’s preposterous!”
“Ah well, it’s only rumor, mind you, but the Moyong Clan has grown so bold they’ve seized actual control of the Murim Alliance and wield it freely. Moreover, they say every night, moans and cries of women echo ceaselessly from the Master’s quarters.”
“Hmm…”
Namgung Cheon went rigid, his face struck with shock.
These might be nothing but idle words from jealous tongues. Yet rumor, once unverified, breeds suspicion, and suspicion corrodes trust. Left unchecked, the Murim Alliance’s standing would deteriorate irreversibly.
Namgung Cheon’s brow deepened as he let out a heavy sigh.
‘What are you doing, my friend?’

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————