I Became the Namgung Clan’s Omnipotent Item-Powered Martial God - Chapter 38

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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 38
Chapter 38 – Never Underestimate the Janitor
#1
The janitor Nam Ho Ho.
When word came that he’d been assigned to Group Three for the mock match, the members of Group Seven received the news with barely concealed derision.
A free win.
They’d assumed victory had simply walked toward them of its own accord.
That opinion hadn’t changed, even now.
If anything, it had soured their mood further.
What negligence it must have taken, to regard the mock match with such contempt.
Was it a desperate stopgap, or did they truly believe themselves sufficient?
‘That vacant expression.’
Standing on the arena floor was Namgung O, second son of the head of Hyeonryong Gak.
Hyeonryong Gak.
As the name suggested, it was the division of the Namgung Family responsible for strategy and intelligence.
They understood the board upon which not merely Anwhui, but the entire martial world moved, and it was there that tactics were formulated.
Because of this, there hung about it a certain reputation.
‘Relatively weak in martial prowess.’
In keeping with the Namgung Family’s reverence for martial might, Hyeonryong Gak was regarded as a place where those with sharp minds but lesser strength found their calling.
And in truth, there was some merit to that assessment.
“Did he predict I would emerge?”
Namgung O twisted his lips as he stared down at Namgung Yeon below the arena, muttering the question to himself.
He knew that the other man had orchestrated an upset in the selection rounds for the team leaders.
But whether that truly warranted such high regard was another matter entirely—one on which his own judgment remained uncertain.
‘Even you would look down on me.’
His father, the head of Hyeonryong Gak, always spoke of the strength that came from overwhelming martial power.
Unlike his eldest brother, who had turned early toward the path of the scholar for the sake of official position, Namgung O yearned to become a strategist versed in both the civil and martial arts.
Like the legendary Lü Meng, who once ruled the Geonup region in ages past.
For the sake of elevating Hyeonryong Gak’s standing, he had to win here—no matter what.
That had been his resolve, and yet his opponent was a janitor…
The exasperation that threatened to puncture his confidence was real, but he had no intention of showing mercy.
“Hmm…”
Chong Gyo Du, watching both figures, fell silent for a moment.
Then he glanced once toward Namgung Mu, the family head, and gave a small nod.
Namgung Yeon understood what that gesture signified.
Chong Gyo Du was no fool.
He would have noticed that a Vitality Silk Pill had been consumed before the match.
He was asking the family head, Namgung Mu, what should be done.
It appeared the decision had been made to proceed regardless.
“Do not employ the Assassin’s Technique. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Be especially careful about it.”
Chong Gyo Du was unusually talkative for this particular match.
Namgung O nodded silently and completed his preparations to release the surging inner power coursing through him.
Ho Ho, for his part, raised his sword with visible tension.
Light, yet substantial.
And the subtle glow of the Daeyeon Heart Technique wrapped around Ho Ho’s consciousness.
Clink.
Namgung Yeon’s Demon Spirit Sword rang out as though delighted by what was to come.
And with that sound, the duel began.
#2
“Head of the family—shouldn’t we stop this?”
“Agreed. Second son of the head of Hyeonryong Gak, you say? This is flagrant cheating.”
“Indeed. If this continues, that boy will be badly hurt.”
Upon hearing the outcry, Namgung Mu slowly raised his hand.
He too was aware of it.
The source was likely someone from the Sacheon Tang Family.
And the perpetrator would be Namgung Hui, one of his own sons.
Unlike the Namgung Family, which revered pure martial strength, the Sacheon Tang Family was known for their willingness to employ any means necessary.
They were a clan whose methods clashed with his own, yet perhaps that very ruthlessness might yield an even greater strength in the end.
This match bore the weight of generational succession, but it was also a testing ground for new possibilities.
‘The Demon Cultists have emerged. Since we cannot predict what schemes they might unleash, we must cultivate flexibility in our own responses.’
This was Namgung Mu’s judgment.
And so he resolved to suppress the grievances that the older generation harbored.
He opened his mouth.
“If we have committed to backing this, then we must do so properly—not half-heartedly like in the previous council.”
…….
“Family Head, surely that violates principles of fairness…….”
“Fairness? Now that Demon Cultists have appeared, is this truly the time to quibble over such things?”
At the mention of Demon Cultists, all the voices in the hall fell silent.
That was true.
They were cruel and treacherous.
No one could predict where they would strike or what methods they would employ to pressure the Namgung Family.
And it was not only the Namgung Family at stake.
Throughout the martial world—in Anwhui and beyond—there were surely those who dreamed of the Demonic Sect’s resurgence.
They had to prepare.
To prevent the catastrophe of internal collapse.
‘The investigations continue without end. The Changtian Defense must search the entire martial world.’
The Namgung Family’s influence extended across all the martial realms.
Even goods brought in from the distant Western Regions could not escape their reach.
Which meant, conversely, that Demon Cultists might have already infiltrated even those distant places.
“Let us watch and see what unfolds in the next generation. As long as no one is gravely harmed, that should suffice, should it not?”
“If you feel so strongly about it…….”
“Of course, I will not let this pass next time.”
Namgung Mu’s resolve was unshakable.
Every elder present nodded in agreement.
The contest between Namgung Hui and Namgung Yeon was, after all, merely a quarrel between cousins over their portions—nothing more than that, they told themselves.
Yet what could it mean to lend strength to the son of the Hyeonryong Gak Master?
‘Is he trying to nurture Hyeonryong Gak?’
‘Or does the Hyeonryong Gak Master have some implicit understanding with him?’
‘Could there be some other intention hidden within?’
Every elder in the hall watched Namgung Mu intently, reading his mood.
Politics within a clan had always been thus.
Every word spoken, every action taken, carried layers of meaning.
Depending on how this decision played out, one would either drift further from power or seize it firmly in their grasp.
What consequences would the Family Head’s choice bring forth?
Was this an expansion of what he had said before—that he would enlarge the stage?
“I am curious,” he said evenly, his gaze settling on Nam Ho Ho. “In which direction will those who have borrowed outside strength move?”
…….
Namgung Mu spoke calmly, observing Nam Ho Ho.
He was merely a janitor, yet his martial skill was considerable.
Now it became clear why he had specifically asked that boy to be sent to them.
Yet the causal thread was slightly twisted.
‘Information. He cultivated information networks.’
Namgung Mu analyzed the situation with cold precision.
Crash—!
A thunderous boom that no one could have attributed to the clash of iron blades.
The explosive sound rippled outward, loud enough to startle anyone passing by on the street.
Everyone assumed it was over.
The second son of the Hyeonryong Gak Master.
A boy who dreamed of mastering both the martial and administrative arts.
Someone of the Hyeonryong Gak Master’s caliber would surely not have neglected his education.
Though public duties had kept him from participating in today’s mock match, expectations for him ran quite high.
‘It will be decided in one exchange.’
‘He barely scraped past the third-rate barrier, yet how could he possibly withstand an opponent of Namgung Yeon’s caliber, especially one fortified by a Vitality Silk Pill?’
Perhaps one should have praised him nonetheless.
If Namgung Yeon’s faction had fielded such serviceable strength against an opponent bolstered by enhancement, then
they would exhaust their forces even as they suffered defeat.
There was even talk of him possessing keen judgment.
One builds a grand strategy only by knowing what to sacrifice.
Had she truly been idle in sickbed all this while?
That was what everyone had begun to think.
Honestly, if a mere janitor won, something had gone wrong.
Yet.
“He withstood it?”
“He actually withstood that strike!?”
“Hm.”
He had not dropped his sword.
He had not retreated far.
The impression was unmistakable—he had barely managed to block it.
But the lowborn janitor stood firm in his place, unshaken.
Every eye in the hall shifted toward Nam Ho Ho.
The unremarkable janitor.
Yet now, a warrior beginning to take shape before them.
#3
He was amazed.
At the fact that he had blocked such a tremendous strike.
And also astonished.
At the subtle, rising flow of inner power even as he had expended considerable True Qi.
‘Did I really… withstand that strike?’
He had blocked it purely on instinct, raising his blade.
Or so he thought.
The reality was far different.
“Just now—wasn’t he using the Daeyeon Swordsmanship unconsciously?”
“It appears so. All that relentless driving has borne fruit.”
“That’s hardly at the level of just happening.”
Of course not.
Namgung Yeon smiled.
How harshly he had driven the boy these months.
Each day wracked with muscle soreness, yet forced into recovery regardless.
For one of the Gold Dragon Lock’s properties was to aid the recovery of the user nearby.
Pushing him to ruin while simultaneously forcing superhuman healing—it had condensed what should have taken tens of years into mere moments.
Moreover, though everyone had dismissed Nam Ho Ho’s talent, his gift surpassed that of anyone present in this hall.
‘Show them.’
That my choice was not wrong.
That you are no mere janitor, but one worthy to bear the Namgung name with pride.
Namgung Yeon watched the mock match with a subtle smile.
The ring of steel sang out again and again.
Nam Ho Ho caught each blow by the narrowest margin.
A wound opened on his arm—a glancing cut—from poor distance management.
Had they meant to stop at the first drop of blood, they would never have drawn true steel in the first place.
‘He grows impatient.’
Nam Ho Ho kept his focus steady, attending only to his opponent’s strikes.
Wooden or steel, the principle was the same: if the blade did not land, the strike did not count.
His tension began to ease, his movements growing fluid.
“I see your weakness!”
“You arrogant janitor scum!”
Namgung O shouted without thought, his eyes bloodshot, and rushed forward.
No longer attempting restraint, he wielded techniques that crossed the line.
Nam Ho Ho had no chance to counterattack.
He could only endure, survive, and recall what had come before.
Nam Ho Ho’s eyes traced the sword’s arc.
What mattered most in a fight?
First: sight.
‘I see it. Fierce, but not beyond following.’
Suppressed talent began to bloom.
He was a warrior of far more experience than his station suggested.
He possessed knowledge far more precious than the blue blood of any noble line.
He had endured alone the terrible ordeal of killing.
He had survived alone in the lair of Demon Cultists.
Among those who merely swung their swords under the guise of training, Nam Ho Ho had shouldered every menial task, accumulating far more experience than his peers.
Those experiences had stacked upon one another, layer by careful layer, to forge the Nam Ho Ho of today.
‘I am someone whom the Young Master and Yeon have acknowledged.’
Nam Ho Ho’s eyes hardened.
Gone were the trembling pupils of fear, no longer rolling anxiously this way and that.
They had transformed into the keen gaze of a hunter, tracking the opponent’s every movement with surgical precision.
Once the eyes opened and the body began to adapt, the gaps would become visible.
Compared to the terror that the Demon Cultists radiated, this was nothing.
Weighed against standing before the suffocating pressure of slaughter itself, such burden was inconsequential.
‘Now, I can even strike back.’
A good blade.
Good eyes.
And a body tempered through merciless training.
Before him stood an opponent already pouring everything into the fight, fatigue creeping in with each passing moment.
There was no reason he could not win.
“Go.”
Nam Ho Ho’s blade sang forth, infused with the essence of Namgung’s art.

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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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