I Became the Namgung Clan’s Omnipotent Item-Powered Martial God - Chapter 40

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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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Episode 40
Episode 40 – Talent Is Not a Trifle
#1
Namgung Hui poured every Spirit Medicine he possessed into his body.
A force that churned and roiled on the verge of eruption.
The pressure that had weighed down his shoulders seemed to lift, leaving him strangely buoyant.
‘Is this what it feels like to advance in Internal Energy?’
Even as he climbed onto the Training Arena, he did not release that hostility.
Siblings.
Had he grown up in an ordinary household, he would have simply thought of them as bound by affection.
They would have been allies rather than competitors, helping one another forward.
‘But the Namgung Clan is not like that. The Namgung Clan is… a place where only the strong can grasp everything.’
That was what he had learned, and that was what he had watched with his own eyes as he grew.
To Namgung Hui, his siblings were nothing more—and nothing less—than obstacles to overcome.
Subtle disdain in their eyes.
And the gap that accumulated with each passing year, impassable as time itself.
These things had layered upon one another, and somewhere along the way, a great knot had formed in his heart.
The knot of inferiority.
The knot of impatience.
And the victimhood of believing he had to yield to them simply because he was born too late.
“Without even a shred of talent, you—”
“Younger brother, what manner of speech is this to your senior?”
Namgung Hui glowered at Namgung Yeon with blazing eyes and muttered something.
His older brother, hearing this, replied flatly.
And Namgung Hui laughed bitterly.
“You want to be treated like a senior just because you were born a few years earlier? Do you have no conscience?”
……
“In the Namgung Clan, strength decides everything. If you want my respect, prove it through skill!”
“Very well. Don’t regret those words.”
A younger brother consumed entirely by the logic of force.
Namgung Yeon looked at his sibling and spoke.
At that moment, the Spirit Medicine he had already consumed was beginning to dissolve gently through his veins.
“Hui.”
……
“Do you truly believe you fell behind us simply because you were born late?”
“If not that, then what else could explain it?”
The corners of Namgung Yeon’s mouth rose slightly in a thin smile.
No. That was not it.
Talent was not something to be treated so lightly.
Even if one were the Patriarch of the Namgung Clan, even if one were the child of a martial master, would the talent of each be identical?
“Mocking me…?”
“Hui, your brother offers you this counsel in all earnestness: you have not fallen behind them simply because you were born late.”
“Wha—”
Listen well, younger brother.
These words must be engraved upon your heart.
They may reshape the course of your entire life.
“You simply lack the talent. The talent to surpass them.”
“You bastard—!”
And this brother’s words were indeed acerbic.
#2
“Shouldn’t I be stepping in?”
“It remains evenly matched. Let us observe a while longer.”
……Yes.
The current on the Training Arena was extraordinarily tense.
Regardless of whether he was the child of Namgung Mu, the Patriarch of the Namgung Clan, he had crossed a line long ago.
This was not martial spirit—this was a killing intent that could not be restrained, something akin to murderous madness.
A younger brother unleashing such lethal pressure upon his own flesh and blood.
Even if Namgung Yeon had scraped away at his pride, was it right for him to show such killing intent toward his own kin?
What was truly startling came next.
Ugh—
“Why, when you’re using the same sword forms as I am, can you achieve nothing but this?”
“Stop spouting nonsense—!”
The same sword method.
The same moves, executed identically.
Namgung Yeon had seized control of the match with absolute certainty, mirroring every martial technique that Namgung Hui employed with perfect precision.
And that was not all.
He exposed every flaw in the sword forms Namgung Hui wielded and exploited them again and again.
Buoyed by the Spirit Medicine’s power, he showed no sign of fatigue, and so the match stretched on and on.
Yet the clan elders and instructors watched the duel with undisguised fascination.
‘The gap in skill is staggering.’
‘Namgung Yeon. Is it truly possible that the fourth son has always been such a radiant presence?’
‘A reward for overcoming Severed Meridians? Well enough… there are tales of legendary masters from ages past who found their brilliance precisely through that affliction.’
Their eyes had shifted from Namgung Hui to Namgung Yeon alone.
Yes.
The old stories spoke often of legendary masters who recovered from Severed Meridians to become unparalleled sages.
The problem was, such tales were confined to legend alone.
Why else would they be called legends?
Because they were opportunities of fate so rare that one might see them once in a lifetime, or never at all—that was why they were called legends.
Could such a being truly be born in this age?
Namgung Yeon’s vacant eyes seemed to read the principles of all things.
‘Has he accepted so much information that his gaze has become clouded?’
‘Or perhaps he has lost his sharpness precisely to maintain his reason.’
These observers cast their theories about, evaluating the fourth son as they saw fit.
The sharp clash of steel rang out in succession until Namgung Hui collapsed from exhaustion, and still their assessment continued.
All the while, they turned their minds to how best they might use this fourth son.
“Gasping… this… this cannot be….”
“You find it impossible?”
Namgung Yeon gazed down at his younger brother, who seemed scarcely able to lift his sword.
Yes.
Talent such as yours flows abundantly through the Namgung Clan.
You must accept this truth to devote yourself wholly to your training.
‘Otherwise, you’ll sink into deeper mire still.’
Namgung Yeon watched his trembling brother lift his sword once more.
The venom and tenacity in that gesture alone deserved praise.
But could he maintain that venom even before the cruel truth he now faced?
And could he maintain it in the right direction?
“Do not blame yourself too harshly. Nor you, nor your comrades.”
“…….”
“You are all in the same circumstance.”
“Lies….”
“Then, as a gift to commemorate my becoming your older brother, I shall bestow one technique upon you.”
You will likely find no defense against this form.
And yet, the elders of our clan will recognize it.
They will understand that this single strike, built upon years of accumulation, transcends the vessel of my own body.
They will dismiss it with nothing more than the word “talent.”
But that did not matter.
So long as I move closer to what I aim for, nothing else holds weight.
Namgung Yeon gripped his sword with both hands.
A bone-deep chill seemed to seep into his chest.
Dae Yeon Heart Method.
Dae Yeon Sword Method.
Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum—.
The Training Arena began to tremble.
When True Energy accumulated within reaches its limit, it overflows outward in precisely this manner.
People spoke of this as “releasing energy outward.”
And when that overflowing True Energy is channeled through the sword, the term becomes this:
Sword Qi Injury.
A realm where Internal Energy can wound an opponent—the mark of ascension to consummate mastery.
“Watch closely. You will reach this height before long.”
What you wield carelessly is no true Dae Yeon Sword Method.
Not granting an enemy space to retreat, but pressing forward relentlessly.
Like the principles of the universe itself—the deeper one cuts, the deeper the blade goes.
That is the Dae Yeon.
Yeon King Opens Heaven

Namgung Yeon’s blade fell from above to below.
Like the ancient King of Yeon, who they say wielded a sword that could cleave the very heavens.
Crack-crack-crack!
The sword qi surged forward.
With the force to split all things in twain.
“…….”
“…….”
The floor of the Training Arena split in two.
The sword qi passed directly beside Namgung Hui.
It was a blow even the instructors could not easily have blocked.
Namgung Yeon then made his declaration.
“Even if all of Group Seven threw themselves at me, I don’t believe they could emerge victorious. Is there any need for further mock battles?”
It was a declaration of victory.
A single stroke that proved overwhelming dominance.
#3
The session was held at someone’s suggestion that perhaps team combat might prove different.
The result was hollow.
Total defeat in less than an hour.
Group Seven crumbled like a building whose foundation had given way.
“The second bout… I believe there is no need to hold it, Clan Head.”
“I agree. Then let us conclude the mock battles between Group Three and Group Seven here.”
The victorious group would gain access to intermediate martial techniques.
Half of the twelve groups.
Half meant being one step ahead of everyone else.
Namgung Mu, the Clan Head, declared Group Three’s victory with confidence.
There was no longer need for further mock battles.
Sending those whose morale was already broken onto the field would be no different from suicide.
He hoped they would recognize that retreat, too, was a tactic, and he began to give his assessment.
“Group Three has shown remarkable results. The traces of rigorous training are evident. But do not grow complacent.”
“Yes!”
“Group Seven must first research the methods of harmony and integration. Think carefully about what path leads to true strength.”
“……Yes.”
Where there is a victor, there must be a vanquished.
Yet in the world of the martial realm, there were neither eternal losers nor eternal victors.
If one merely survived, failure would one day become the fertile ground for greater growth.
But how long would it take to realize that?
And how much higher could one climb, using defeat as a stepping stone?
A martial artist grew stronger through failures layered upon one another,
And time carefully accumulated, day after day.
Namgung Mu emphasized this point.
“This single battle is not the sum of your lives. Evaluation will continue, so persevere.”
“Yes!”
“And Group Three is permitted access to the Martial Arts Repository, where intermediate martial techniques are kept. Your time limit is one day. You may take out only one technique.”
“Thank you, Clan Head.”
At that moment, Namgung Yeon raised his hand.
The leader of Group Three.
The one who had performed extraordinary feats.
All eyes now fixed upon his every gesture.
Clan Head Namgung Mu granted him permission to speak.
Namgung Yeon glanced once at Ho Ho, then opened his mouth.
Intermediate martial techniques in the Repository?
He had already mastered them thoroughly—they were of no use to him now.
It would be better to obtain something else, something to heighten his overall strength.
‘If anything, I’d prefer money I could use freely, or perhaps authority. But before that…….’
“I have no need for intermediate martial techniques. Might I request something else instead?”
“Speak.”
“I believe that today, despite Group Three being short-handed, our victory was achieved in large part because of the janitor standing here.”
“And so……?”
Namgung Mu showed the faintest flicker of interest.
From the moment his son opened his mouth, he could divine what was coming.
Surely the boy meant to take the janitor with him all the way.
My son.
Do you truly mean to become a lord?
Will you stand alone as the greatest master under heaven?
Or will you become a lord who embraces all?
If neither……
“I ask that you formally enroll Ho Ho as a trainee of Group Three. In exchange, I will not enter the Martial Arts Repository.”
“You would give up what is yours to increase your group’s numbers? What drove you to such a thought?”
“Because the stronger our ranks, the better we become.”
Only then does the Namgung Clan endure.
Only then does the Martial World survive.
Namgung Yeon’s clouded eyes were not fixed on the present.
They gazed upon a past steeped in death—relentless, overwhelming death.
And beyond it, toward the future of the Namgung Clan.

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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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