I Became the Namgung Clan’s Omnipotent Item-Powered Martial God - Chapter 36

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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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Chapter 36
Chapter 36 – Arrogant Ones
#1
Team 7.
Nangong Yeon examined their composition.
The team leader was a face he knew all too well.
A youthful face, at that.
[Nangong Hui].
Hwayeon’s younger brother and the sixth child.
He’d held a sword from the moment he learned to walk until now, yet he carried inferiority toward his siblings—always had.
A rushed child who ignored both the advantages and disadvantages of his youth.
‘I wonder what he’s like now.’
Time had a way of dimming even vivid memories.
Nangong Yeon sifted through his recollection, conjuring his brother’s image.
His brother’s past and present were…… yes.
Being young, he could afford to look at him with such arrogance.
‘I’ve never thought of you as my older brother, not once.’
‘You were the one stuck in bed—what do you know to go on about-!’
Whatever else he might forget, he remembered this: his brother dismissed those weaker than himself simply for being born later.
And look at him now.
There—gazing down at him with contempt.
Nangong Hui.
Perhaps his younger brother embodied the Nangong Clan better than anyone.
The clan’s creed revered strength alone.
Nangong Hui, too, was a brother who held that creed sacred.
“With a face like that, dimwitted——”
“…….”
Even so, personal insults seemed a bit much.
Nangong Yeon let out a soft laugh.
That audacity.
To others, he was merely the confident young lord of the Nangong house—but to Nangong Yeon, he was nothing but an arrogant brat.
Nangong Yeon raised his hand quietly.
Countless eyes fastened upon him.
What is he going to say now?
As waves of emotion crashed toward him, Nangong Yeon turned to the Chief Instructor and spoke.
“Due to an unfortunate accident, our team is short on members. Would it be permissible to add someone urgently?”
“……Add someone?”
“As it happens, I have a suitable friend.”
Nangong Yeon’s gaze fell upon Ho Ho, the janitor and cook.
Ho Ho received that look and his expression grew bewildered.
“……Me?”
“Nam Ho Ho. He is my janitor and the servant who manages my meals.”
“Pffft——”
Someone couldn’t hold back their laughter, a derisive snort bursting forth.
A janitor?
Did he say a janitor?
And a cook on top of that.
Not a celebrated chef, but a mere servant learning martial arts……?
Not only the other team members but everyone who had come to observe broke into scornful laughter.
Some even voiced their contempt.
This was a sacred competition to select the Future Patriarch.
And now he would thrust some nameless commoner forward as a candidate?
“This is madness! What bloodline could a lowborn possibly——!”
“Anyone may participate. And if one proves strength, one may rise to a position of honor. Is this not the law of our clan?”
Nangong Yeon spoke with perfect composure.
Words taken as obvious by some seemed deeply inconvenient to others.
Malice and hostility bristled toward him, sharp and sudden.
As though declaring: ‘You cannot do this.’
“After all, this is merely a Mock Tournament. The weak will fall away naturally. You’re not afraid of a mere janitor, are you—so reluctant to complete the roster?”
This was provocation.
Nangong Yeon gazed at the clan elders with a subtle smile playing at his lips.
Then he turned to look at Nangong Hui standing on the opposite side.
He swept his eyes over the team members who followed him as well.
‘How arrogant they all are.’
The path you walk will be painted in steel-bright thorns and blood-red hues.
Yet you carry yourselves with such naive innocence, valuing yourselves far too highly.
Nangong Yeon challenged them silently with this thought.
“Chief Elder, our Team 7 doesn’t mind. Would you grant us permission?”
“You’re certain about this?”
“Yes. Only if the match is fair will there be no complaints afterward.”
“Then I take it both sides are in agreement.”
The bracket was drawn up in an instant.
Ho Ho, who had been swept up in this sudden affair, still wore a dazed expression.
“Wait… don’t I have a say in this?”
No.
#2
The competition was straightforward.
They would come out one by one and fight individual matches.
Then all would step forward together for a group battle.
Each person would fight a total of three duels, with the final round being a victor’s gauntlet.
The first to step forward was Nangong Zhen Zhen.
Vanguard.
A crucial role that breaks the enemy’s momentum while bolstering one’s own forces’ morale.
From the start, Nangong Yeon had positioned Zhen Zhen as the Vanguard of Team 7.
Nangong Zhen Zhen placed a piece of candy into his mouth, watching it slowly dissolve.
‘Sweet.’
He still felt piercing stares pouring down from all directions.
Then Nangong Yeon approached him smoothly.
After acknowledging him in his own way, he had put him through brutally harsh training.
Training so severe that sometimes he couldn’t sleep because of the pain.
Nangong Yeon had always said things like this:
‘If you can’t endure even this much, what exactly are you trying to prove?’
‘Endure. I won’t tell you to work hard. You’ll need to exhaust every ounce of your strength just to bear it.’
So he gritted his teeth and bore it.
He did his best to accomplish everything that was asked of him.
His body grew accustomed to it gradually, but honestly, he had no real confidence.
He had witnessed Nangong Yeon’s overwhelming martial prowess.
And he assumed the other Nangong brothers had become just as strong.
Yet there was hope.
During the grueling training sessions with Ho Ho, he remembered something the fastidious captain had muttered and walked away.
‘Now you’re finally worth something.’
It seemed like a mere murmur, but Nangong Zhen Zhen’s senses had become so acute that he heard it clearly.
If he had said that, didn’t it mean he’d surpassed some threshold that had been set?
That small fragment of pride was all that kept him going.
‘All right… stay calm.’
“Are you nervous? There’s no need to be.”
“Isn’t it necessary to be nervous in a place like this?”
“Your enemy is right in front of you—don’t just stand there consumed by anxiety. The place you need to look now isn’t your father, but the battlefield before you.”
……
Nangong Yeon approached and spoke.
As he heard those words, the surrounding gazes seemed to retreat a step back.
His vision cleared.
His judgment sharpened enough to perceive the situation objectively.
Nangong Zhen Zhen looked toward the Martial Arena.
No matter how much it was just a Mock Tournament, if he made a wrong move at the start, the gap would only widen.
Where he needed to focus now was not on the elders’ evaluation.
No—in order to earn their approval, he had to concentrate entirely on what would unfold in that Martial Arena.
“I understand what you mean.”
“Good. Just do what you’ve been doing, and you’ll win without trouble.”
“Is that really true?”
Nangong Yeon offered no response.
Speaking another word would only shake his resolve further.
Nangong Zhen Zhen watched with a faint smile as Nangong Yeon passed by him.
Of course.
The team leader would have his reasons for saying such things.
“Sigh……”
He exhaled deeply, shaking off fear and tension.
In that breath—mingled with the sweetness of candy—lay all the mental pressure he had accumulated, dissolving away.
“Trainee, advance!”
This duel would be conducted with Real Swords—a genuine Mock Tournament.
Killing Intent could absolutely not be mixed in, and skilled instructors had been positioned to intervene at any moment’s notice.
Four instructors stood at each corner, prepared to step in and prevent injuries at any sign of danger.
Nangong Zhen Zhen drew the freshly issued sword.
Someone watching noticed the gesture and his eyes sharpened.
‘When did he obtain such a sword……?’
It was none other than the White Dragon Lord Castellan and Nangong Zhen Zhen’s father.
What growth had he undergone all this time?
His expectations had long since cooled, yet he could not help but observe.
This was a final test.
Of his son?
No—a test of himself.
How much of his son’s shamelessness could he endure?
If disappointment were piled upon disappointment, how far could his patience stretch?
This gathering existed to test such things.
‘I told him one does not change weapons carelessly……’
The moment coldness took hold, everything began to grate against him.
In the White Dragon Lord Castellan’s eyes, everything about Nangong Zhen Zhen appeared wanting.
Within that atmosphere, the first duel commenced.
“Did you at least train well under that incompetent?”
“Well enough.”
“Regrettable. Had you studied under those better suited to drawing out your talents, your skill would be far greater by now.”
“……”
Nangong Zhen Zhen did not deign to answer.
In his view, no period had been more grueling than the time spent at the Combined Training Grounds.
Had other teams endured far more intense training?
‘Still, let me try.’
Somewhere along the way, he had come to trust his team leader’s words deeply.
The reason Nangong Zhen Zhen stood silent with sword in hand was simple.
The team leader had told him to do as he did.
In the tense atmosphere, the Chief Instructor’s voice rang out.
“Begin—!”
#3
Real Sword.
It was a thing treated with utmost severity within the Nangong Clan.
To rashly Unsheath a sword meant proposing a life-and-death duel with one’s opponent.
Thus, within the clan, there was almost never occasion to draw a Real Sword.
That said, the Nangong Clan did not neglect training with Real Swords.
Practice wielding blades capable of taking life was always indispensable.
The Nangong revere Martial prowess.
To forgo Real Sword training among the Nangong was to announce one’s own obsolescence.
“I wonder if the youngsters will acquit themselves well.”
“Since this is their first Real Sword duel, they’ll surely be quite nervous.”
And so the first Mock Tournament mattered greatly.
Real Swords feel entirely different when wielded and when they clash with an opponent.
The dense vibration of steel.
And the crushing weight of knowing that a single slip might sever a limb.
Only by overcoming all of this could one manifest true skill.
The terror that steel inspires is greater than one might suppose.
Is it any wonder that most martial artists who venture into the Martial World after training alone die in their first real combat?
It was not for lack of skill.
‘If you can’t overcome fear, you’ll never achieve greatness.’
The Patriarch, Nangong Wu, stood with his arms crossed, observing the children.
As always, the most striking figure was Nangong Yeon, whose eyes betrayed not a hint of emotion.
Even in the brief time since he’d last seen him, the boy had grown noticeably stronger.
And what of that Inner Power?
Was it some reward he’d received for overcoming his Severed Meridians?
Each time he stepped away, Nangong Yeon returned with remarkable growth, worthy of being seen with fresh eyes.
Naturally, his martial skills must have advanced considerably as well.
‘Hui has been a talented prodigy, training in martial arts since childhood. I’m curious to see how this match unfolds.’
Nangong Hui would surely grow into an exceptional martial artist.
Yet even now, Nangong Yeon was the one who commanded attention.
What would the Vanguard he’d trained become?
Nangong Zhen Zhen.
There were rumors that his skill ranked fairly high even among the Later Generation Talent Tier.
But training methods matter—a disciple’s strength can decline or advance depending on who guides them.
If he’d stagnated, the other children who’d been his equals or slight inferiors would surely have surpassed him by now.
The Patriarch, Nangong Wu, weighed all these considerations as he watched the match unfold.
Clang!
A sharp metallic ring cut through the air.
And something astonishing happened.
“……That’s all you’ve got?”
One clash.
The victor and vanquished were decided in a single exchange of blades.
A sight he’d seen before, somewhere.
Thud.
There stood one who’d stopped before the line—staring blankly at the blade pressed against his throat, the edge that held his life in balance.
Nangong Zhen Zhen.
He held his opponent’s neck at sword point, his gaze cold and settled.
People of Nangong, witness this.
Team 7 is not weak.
‘All will see how brutally, how relentlessly, we have trained.’
A faint smile touched the corner of Nangong Yeon’s lips.

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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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