Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 116

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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 116. The Sword Demon Reveals His Talent
The Murim Alliance Great Assembly Hall.
Ever since the Nine Hundred Strife had erupted, this place saw meetings convened almost daily, voices raised in heated argument.
“We must make a decision!”
“A decision? What decision needs making?”
“Gucheon Sung’s movements are far from ordinary! They will not be satisfied merely with toppling the Baekga Maeng.”
“Hmph, unsatisfied? What could they possibly do?”
“He speaks sense. Even if their ambitions stretch toward the Tianxia, exhausted as they are from their campaign against the Baekga Maeng, they cannot stand against us.”
“Is that really what you should be saying now?!”
Originally, the Anti-war faction had held sway within the Murim Alliance, but recently the atmosphere had begun to shift.
“The Sword Demon, who had been heading toward Sichuan, changed course and entered Yunnan. He has been spotted in Yingshan and Zitong, which means even Kunming, the capital itself, is in danger!”
What proved most significant was the reversal of the Jeom Chang faction, which had once been staunchly anti-war.
Gye Seong, a master spearsman who had cultivated the Piercing Sun Spear with extraordinary fervor, raised his voice with intensity.
“At this rate, we will lose half of Yunnan! And that is not all—Gucheon Sung has its main base in Guizhou, and Fae Cheon holds Guangxi! We are surrounded on all sides!”
As Gye Seong’s face reddened with passion, Hak So, wielding the Pine Wind Sword, attempted to calm him with an easy, affable laugh.
“Hehe, compose yourself. A figure of Ten Thousand Heaven’s caliber does not move so lightly, and besides, Fae Cheon is said to have his attention wholly fixed on Guangdong at present.”
“Compose myself? You speak of composure now?”
Yet Hak So’s laughter had only the opposite effect on Gye Seong.
The reason lay in Hak So’s sect affiliation.
“You dare claim the Qingcheng faction is now safe?”
“What?”
“You laughed because the Sword Demon withdrew from Sichuan where the Qingcheng faction dwells!”
When Gye Seong pointed accusingly, Hak So’s face flushed crimson.
With a single remark, he had become a petty man who reveled in another’s misfortune.
“I—!”
“Please, restrain yourself. Tempers run far too high.”
Just as Hak So was about to shout back, Jeong Tak, the Third Elder of the Jongnam faction, checked him from the side.
With Jeong Tak—elder of the White Flame and White Beauty lineages—intervening, Hak So had no choice but to sit back down, fuming quietly.
‘Tsk, I have not yet reaped sufficient gain from this.’
Jeong Tak clicked his tongue inwardly.
In truth, he had wished for the Sword Demon to continue agitating Sichuan.
Had that occurred, his sect, the Jongnam faction, would have seized an excellent opportunity to expand its influence southward.
“People are mocking the Murim Alliance!”
“Indeed, we are no cowards.”
“Of late, there is even talk that a single Brilliant Dragon is worth more than the entire Murim Alliance!”
“The Baekga Maeng has birthed a young hero who slew the Man-eating Demon General. What are we doing?”
“I hear that the Later Generation Disciples who accompany the Brilliant Dragon include youths from Wudang, Huashan, Emei, and Kunlun. We were told to hold back, yet behind our backs they cultivate ambition?”
Cracks began to form between the three bastions of the anti-war coalition: Jongnam, Qingcheng, and Jeom Chang.
Led by the Five Mountains Sword faction, the open-war faction grew increasingly vocal.
Hungry for glory, they had grown restless upon hearing news of the Guangyong Demon General that had shaken the whole of Zhongyuan mere days before.
An age of war inevitably births heroes.
That first chance had been seized by Namgung Ho Yeon, a young Later Generation Disciple of the Baekga Maeng.
‘If matters continue thus, we shall bear the shame of cowardice.’
‘A stage for my sect’s disciples has been prepared!’
‘Here is our chance to escape the shadow of the Nine Schools and One Pavilion. We have strength enough!’
The open-war faction poured forth fierce ardor, pressing the anti-war faction into retreat.
‘Tsk, nothing has gone as I wish since that man arrived in Zhongyuan.’
As events failed to flow in the direction he desired, Jeong Tak’s gaze fixed upon one corner of the Great Assembly Hall, and there he found his answer.
“Hehehehe!”
There sat an old man with a spiteful expression, scratching his prominent belly.
He was Bang Ui Chae, the Beggar King.
All who knew anything understood that the Beggar Faction was aiding the Baekga Maeng.
‘Do you think I am blind to how you egg on the open-war faction behind the scenes?!’
Yet Bang Ui Chae, receiving Jeong Tak’s burning glare, merely snorted dismissively.
‘Clever little thing, that one.’
In truth, Bang Ui Chae’s mind was not on Jeong Tak at all.
He was thinking of Jegal Ahyeon, a woman he had met in secret of late.
“Though the open-war faction grows louder, the Murim Alliance cannot turn on a dime like a palm being flipped. You require a stepping stone, do you not? I have a favorable notion for you.”
Jegal Ahyeon spoke, her brown eyes gleaming with a starlike brilliance.
As Bang Ui Chae recalled her words, a smile rose to his lips.
‘Hah, so now we’re talking about gathering all the Later Generation Disciples of the Martial World and founding an educational institution in Hubei? Now that’s refreshingly bold thinking!’
* * *
“Ugh, my head.”
Ho Yeon sat up, smacking his lips together.
Sunlight glinted through the window pane.
It was the aftermath of drinking late into the night with Namgung Baek.
“The old man’s a complete talker when he drinks.”
Ho Yeon massaged his temples and chuckled to himself.
The memory of his father Namgung Baek’s flushed, cheerful face from last night’s drinking session surfaced in his mind.
When Ho Yeon recounted what had happened at the Yongbong Gathering, his father had been delighted like a child.
It was nothing particularly remarkable, yet the way he’d listened with such focused attention—as if hearing a tale from a master storyteller—was somehow moving.
‘Father said he never got to attend the Yongbong Gathering even once.’
Ho Yeon decided he’d need to share drinks with his father more often and settled into a lotus position.
Whoosh!
The moment he concentrated his mind on the Qi Aura, a boundless blue sky spread before his vision.
As he began the Xiaozhouttian circulation with his ever-expanding Changong Gi, the alcohol vapor lingering in his meridians was driven out.
Crack!
Ho Yeon felt the alcohol vapor being expelled through his pores, and the hangover vanished instantly. He then focused his attention on a white cloud drifting serenely in the azure expanse above.
Ho Yeon gazed quietly at the cottony cloud drifting about in an unwieldy manner and murmured to himself.
‘Hmm. It’s definitely grown a bit.’
After the life-and-death duel with Jin Heuk Cheon, the total capacity of his Lower Dantian had increased somewhat.
He’d expended Spirit Energy beyond what he could normally handle, and with the aid of spiritual medicines provided by the Dan Ri Sega family, he’d gained an additional fifteen years’ worth of cultivation.
‘It’s the same principle as muscle building. Controlled damage to muscle fibers under proper stress, and through the recovery process, stronger and thicker muscles develop.’
Ho Yeon contentedly observed his slightly expanded Lower Dantian when an intriguing thought crossed his mind.
‘Wait. If I play this right…….’
Ho Yeon’s mind began racing with sudden, intense focus.
A moment later, Ho Yeon nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.
‘Oh, this could work. I’ll have to test it later. If I tried it here, all hell would break loose. I’ll do it somewhere safe and secret later.’
Thinking he should visit Geumeo Island again soon, Ho Yeon now concentrated his attention on the Yintang Point, his Upper Dantian.
Boom! Boom-boom!
The Spirit Energy gathered between his brows blazed up in an instant, filling him with reassurance just to perceive it.
‘Around eighty-five swords’ worth, maybe? Heh, you really do need to brush up against death every so often if you want to grow.’
Ho Yeon contentedly observed the greatly increased Spirit Energy from his battle with Jin Heuk Cheon and opened his eyes.
Flash!
A blue gleam swept across the room.
Ho Yeon rose from his seat, gathered the swords he’d been cradling, and stepped outside.
Step, step, step.
As Ho Yeon walked down the corridor, the unruly voice of the Heukya Tae Geom echoed in his mind.
―Hey, you rascal! How dare you! So you went drinking yesterday without me?
“Yam, come on. How can I draw you out and pour drinks on a sword in front of Father? I’d be branded a madman.”
―Hah, you’re already a madman by nature, so Father would forgive that much.
“Now why are both of you starting trouble this early in the morning? Did you two eat something bad?”
At Ho Yeon’s murmured remark, sharp reactions erupted.
―You bastard! How dare you say such things to a sword! I want to taste something too!
―Get yourself some Chusheng Soba right now as a hangover cure! Only then will I forgive your foolish prattle!
“Where the hell would I find that?”
―Don’t worry. I’m not an inflexible sword. Gondai told me there’s a food in the Lanzhou area called Lamian that’s similar to Chusheng Soba.
―After all, noodles made from wheat flour in broth simmered from meat bones is the same concept.
“Lanzhou? That’s the capital of Gansu Province. You want me to travel there just to eat noodles? Are you insane?”
As Ho Yeon spoke in disbelief, the two swords’ conversation continued.
―It’s not noodles, it’s Chusheng Soba!
―It’s not Chusheng Soba, it’s Lamian. I simply wish to preserve the prestige of the original.
―Huh? Gondai. What are you talking about? The way you speak, it’s as if Lamian were the original of Chusheng Soba?
―Of course Lamian is the original. Don’t you know that noodle-making techniques were transmitted from Zhongyuan to the east?
―Don’t be ridiculous! To insult Chusheng Soba is to insult the samurai! This calls for a duel, Gondai!
―Fine then, you barbarian. I’ll make sure those words never leave your mouth again!
“Ugh, so loud. Seriously.”
Ho Yeon severed the Sword Heart Resonance as the swords began their ceaseless bickering from the morning.
But the noise continued to reach him, now coming from the sound of metal ringing out in the external training grounds.
Clang! Clang-clang! Clang!
“What in the world is this?”
Bang!
As Ho Yeon yanked open the outer door with visible irritation, Hye Il, sprawled across a nearby chair, greeted him with a grin.
“Yum-yum. Ho Yeon! Sleep well?”
Hye Il was chewing on something intently—a plate beside him held what looked like a translucent black jujube.
“What is that? Where’d you get Nokjeong-go?”
“Yum-yum. Nokjeong-go? Mother gave it to me.”
“Mother came here?”
“Yeah.”
“She already left?”
“Just now. She was upset about someone giving the little one alcohol, then she went that way.”
Hye Il pointed toward where the master’s quarters lay.
‘I don’t know anything about it. I only drank what was given to me. The head of the household bears the responsibility.’
Ho Yeon silently offered a prayer for his father’s safety as the man was surely catching an earful, then watched Hye Il contentedly pop another piece of Nokjeong-go into his mouth and frowned.
“You actually enjoy that?”
“Tremendously! I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life!”
“Doesn’t it taste bitter?”
“Bitter? It’s sweet as can be!”
“……I figured as much when you said that vegetable soup was delicious. You’ve got an old man’s palate.”
Ho Yeon shook his head in resignation, then gestured toward the training grounds. “But what’s going on over there?”
“Sparring.”
Clang! Clang-clang!
In the training yard, Un Am and Nan A were engaged in sparring.
Their movements were fluid and vigorous—whatever internal injuries they’d suffered from Jin Heuk Cheon had clearly healed.
“I mean, why are they sparring here? That’s what I want to know.”
“Yum-yum. Un Am said the ground here was good for it.”
“Good ground or not.” Ho Yeon clucked his tongue.
He shot an irritated look toward Un Am and Nan A in the yard.
‘What in the world? Sword fighting right in front of someone’s bedroom? And at the crack of dawn?’
Yet despite his displeasure, Ho Yeon’s eyes had already begun tracking the flow of the match with practiced instinct.
Nan A deployed her Luan Jian with fluid grace, while Un Am seemed solely focused on blocking her strikes.
Even accounting for Nan A’s superior skill level, something seemed off.
Looking closer, Ho Yeon noticed Un Am’s footwork—with each step, it twisted awkwardly, as though he were a beginner learning the basics for the first time.
“Why’s he moving like that? His footwork is strange.”
Twitch!
At Ho Yeon’s muttering, Un Am’s ears wiggled like caterpillars.
“Hmm, I don’t think that’s the original footwork at all……”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you need to lift the heels slightly. It’d feel more natural if you pressed the ball of your foot gently into the ground.”
As Hye Il posed the question, Ho Yeon stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Un Am’s ears twitched in response, and he lifted his heels slightly.
Clang! Clang-clang!
“Relax your hips more. Keep your spine straight but let your upper body move freely. Feel your weight centered at the waist,” Ho Yeon called out.
With each instruction from Ho Yeon, Un Am’s movements improved in real time.
What had been stiff and wooden transformed into something lithe and graceful, like a willow branch swaying in the breeze.
“Huff! Huff! Whew!”
Then Un Am lowered his sword and, breathing heavily, quickly crossed his legs in a seated position and began reviewing the movements he’d just performed.
Nan A carefully moved closer and asked, “Ho Yeon. You knew of the Willow Drift footwork?”
“Willow Drift?”
“It’s a lost technique from Huashan. Un Am is trying to restore it, and I’ve been helping him practice.”
At Nan A’s explanation, Ho Yeon shrugged and replied, “How would I know that? The movement was just obviously wrong compared to the footpath—it looked awkward at a glance.”
“……”
“……”
Nan A and Hye Il exchanged a look, both conveying the same sentiment.
The fact that he could grasp something so quickly at a glance was remarkable; finding the correct posture on the spot was nothing short of miraculous.
“Ho Yeon, you seem to have a gift for teaching others.”
“What nonsense. I’ve got enough on my own plate.”

At Hye Il’s words, Namgung Ho Yeon let out a derisive chuckle, and Nan A nodded in agreement.
“I agree with what Hye Il said. Why don’t we take a look in the Martial Repository?”
“The Repository? Forget it. Let’s head to the blacksmith instead. I’ll show you the way.”
“Oh?”
Nan A blinked, and Namgung Ho Yeon gestured toward her sword.
“You don’t have a proper blade.”
“Ah, my treasured sword broke. I’ve just been using whatever was at hand…….”
“Come on. Even if I don’t have anything exceptional, I should have a decent pair of swords.”
Step, step, step.
Hye Il, watching Namgung Ho Yeon’s receding form, murmured softly.
“He may speak rough, but he’s good at taking care of people, isn’t he?”
“True. He could easily take credit for it, but he never does.”
As Nan A nodded in agreement, Namgung Ho Yeon, who had been walking ahead, quickened his pace and clicked his tongue.
“Tsk.”
His ears had already flushed crimson like autumn leaves.

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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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