I Became the Namgung Clan’s Omnipotent Item-Powered Martial God - Chapter 39

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Chapter 39
Chapter 39 – The Bearing of a Commander
#1
The moment Ho Ho’s scattered gaze sharpened into focus.
His movements shed their excess, becoming clean and economical.
His blade cut through the air, extending in a perfect line.
Crash!
Sword met sword, both humming with Inner Force, and the collision thundered across the grounds.
“Nngh—!?”
“You’ve grown much weaker, I see!”
Once that explosive concentration faded, what came next was inevitable.
Lethargy and fatigue would come crashing down.
After all, even within the Dang family, this Enhancement Pill was used only for sudden, short-range confrontations.
Timing, location, and choice of opponent had to be perfect for it to reach its full potential.
‘My movements are slowing. Master Se Un said this would be the moment.’
He’d told him to endure to the end.
Yet merely enduring wouldn’t decide the match.
That strange water he’d drunk earlier—he felt less fatigued than usual, resistant to exhaustion.
If that was the case, now was the time to counterattack.
‘Drive in. Don’t be afraid.’
Every movement of the blade must be calculated with precision, but never with fear.
Steel decides victory and defeat by mere inches—watch it carefully until the very end.
Namgung Yeon’s teachings unwound within him.
Knowledge flooding through his mind like lantern slides in the dark.
Ho Ho had trained harsher than anyone.
His mind endlessly rehearsing the lessons.
His body moving naturally, without conscious thought.
Clang-clang-clang!
Sparks flew as blade met blade again.
Riding the momentum, Ho Ho pressed forward until he heard his opponent’s labored breathing.
Once you’re in close, don’t hesitate—push through.
From there, it becomes the realm of close combat.
The sword in his hand might turn and cut him down at this distance.
Conversely, the opponent’s blade was equally vulnerable.
The Empty Clear Flow thrummed softly in his veins.
‘This distance, this position, this stance…’
The same spacing where he’d fallen and tumbled through the air countless times.
This was what Namgung Yeon had taught him.
That Martial Arts existed to overcome opponents, and that if survival was the goal, one must never be bound by form.
“Haaaaugh!”
Boom!
Ho Ho’s foot struck the ground with tremendous force.
Then his elbow and fist moved like lightning itself.
The Burst Thunder Divine Fist.

Striking like lightning.
Exploding like dynamite—the fundamental striking technique of the Namgung Clan.
In close-range combat, no Martial Art was more efficient at driving an opponent to the ground.
“Ungh—!?”
Namgung O’s strength drained as the blow struck his abdomen.
Completely unprepared for such an assault, he was left entirely defenseless.
Swoosh—!
Ho Ho spun fluidly, recovering his blade and extending it once more.
His movements carried the seasoned grace of one who’d fought through actual combat for a decade.
Everyone could only stand with gaping mouths, witnessing Ho Ho’s victory unfold.
When awareness returned, the edge of that cleaner’s blade—the one Namgung O had so dismissed—rested beneath his chin.
“Uwaaaaaaaaa—!”
Someone’s roar.
Someone’s joy.
And someone’s rage and despair.
The Comparison of Martial Arts, entangled with so many conflicting emotions, had come to an end.
One person alone.
A result that everyone save Namgung Yeon had failed to anticipate.
#2
It was astonishing.
A mere janitor had defeated the second son of the Crimson Dragon Tower.
What in the name of the Namgung Clan was happening?
And it wasn’t merely a victory—he’d bested an opponent who’d consumed an Enhancement Pill.
Faced with the impossible, the clan’s elders lurched from their seats.
The Namgung valued talent.
Even if their aim was merely to refine superior blades.
Greed began to glimmer in their eyes.
‘It won’t unfold as you wish.’
Namgung Yeon, observing them, studied their faces carefully.
Though they wore expressions of admiration, he could almost see the ugly visages hidden beneath.
Throughout the many currents of history, their faces had shifted constantly.
Even now, seated with such decorum, each of them carried their own true nature.
He was no different, he supposed—yet this was pure self-interest.
An unwillingness to yield anything unless the person walked the same path as himself.
One must first earn trust before anything would be granted.
Should someone display loyalty and devotion, Namgung Yeon resolved to press and shake them until they overflowed with reward.
‘If they covet the wealth and talent I possess, and everything else besides, they must bow their heads.’
There was no compromise.
Because he had decided it so.
Namgung Yeon regarded his father’s faint smile for a moment, then turned his gaze away.
There he saw the members of the Seven Team, engulfed in shock.
In particular, Namgung O, the second son of the Crimson Dragon Tower, was wallowing in despair as though he’d committed the gravest sin of his life.
What would he himself have done in such a situation?
In days past, he would have reproached him.
That’s why I told you to train diligently all along.
If you’d been diligent, you wouldn’t have needed such an Enhancement Pill.
He would have spoken coldly and tried to bear everything alone.
He might have pushed himself harder to compensate for the child’s mistake.
Or perhaps he would have disdained and ignored everyone else to stand out by himself.
How many lives had he lost in that way?
Only when he felt that no one remained did such thoughts gradually begin to change.
Namgung Yeon moved, carrying the Hanchen Sword that Se Un had labored through the night to forge.
From the other side, he could hear his younger brother’s voice crying out.
“You idiot! You couldn’t overcome even that!?”
…….
“That I should have to participate in a competition trusting in these wretches…… Vermin, the lot of you.”
Namgung Hui was raging much like Namgung Yeon had been at some point in the past.
Or much like Namgung Mu had been at some point.
The Patriarch, Namgung Mu, watching Namgung Hui, found himself thinking.
‘He resembles my younger self greatly.’
He bore more of his own tyrannical nature than anyone else.
And because of it, his worry grew all the more.
Meanwhile, the fourth—Yeon…
‘He resembles no one. Even I find that temperament difficult to comprehend.’
Namgung Mu still found his son, Namgung Yeon, utterly inscrutable.
And yet there was a certain pleasure in watching him unfold.
Ho Ho, if he recalled the name correctly.
There was no doubt that his son had taken some manner of measure with that child.
Though what exactly, he couldn’t say—but ordinarily, one wouldn’t possess such stamina…
Others with keen perception seemed equally uncertain, yet they chose to hold their silence.
It was unfair to Hui, perhaps, but there was merit in him learning from his elder brother.
“Chief Instructor.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”
Namgung Mu spoke, and the grand stage of the mock tournament was about to commence in earnest.
“We’ve already lost considerable time, so let us now witness the duel of the team leaders.”
“As you command, Father.”
Namgung Mu had given them a lifeline.
If things continued as they were, the Seven Team would lose without accomplishing a thing—that much was certain.
Namgung Hui, the team’s leader and the one bearing everyone’s hopes, was the strongest among them.
He had been granted only a single chance.
Would he use it to turn the tide with a display of his true power?
Or would he be swept away by momentum and sink?
But Namgung Mu added one more condition.
“Let it be known that this sparring match proceeds under the clan head’s sanction—you may employ every means at your disposal.”
“……?”
“What do you mean by that……?”
“Enhancement Pills, Spirit Pills—bring them out. If you can demonstrate your true strength through them, so be it.”
On a battlefield, there is no such thing as cowardice.
Even less so when survival is at stake.
Namgung Yeon’s hollow eyes curved into crescents.
A most unsettling smile.
#3
Namgung Hui could not bear this humiliation.
Mere puppets trained by a man who’d been confined to some corner.
One of them was even a janitor.
How could such people be fit to stand before the great Namgung Clan?
And yet.
How could the Seven Team, which he himself had trained with such dedication, lose without winning even once?
It made no sense. None of it!
A nameless fury began to devour his mind.
“We will win. No matter what——”
“…….”
Inner Force runs deep with emotion.
That is why martial artists are taught to cultivate a heart like a still lake.
Bright Mirror Still Water.
The mind should be as calm as water that flows not, reflecting all of nature—yet Namgung Hui’s heart churned like a tempestuous sea.
Was that a flaw?
Namgung Yeon watched his younger brother and made his judgment.
When those waves crash upon the shore and begin to flood, then it becomes a flaw.
When one’s inner self spills outward,
turning feeling into mood, making the opponent read your intentions,
and mood becomes bearing, poisoning all those around you—
‘Then nothing can be done, brother.’
How to deal with this young, arrogant fool.
Namgung Yeon regarded Namgung Hui with complicated feelings.
Namgung Hui had always been like this.
A child who endlessly doubted his own talents.
Even as an adult, he was always striving to stay one step ahead of his older siblings.
The result was brilliant skill coupled with isolation—such was this brother of his.
Who would love someone so willful, so tyrannical?
‘Then I suppose I must show him.’
Until now, he had only sought to break Namgung Hui down.
After all, failure was merely a process of finding efficient pathways forward—nothing more.
Within that framework, Namgung Hui had only been a nuisance, never truly useful.
But the weight of that final word—the grief it stirred of all that was lost—had resurfaced old pain.
He could see again how Namgung Hui had always met his end in misery.