Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 137

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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 137. The Sword Demon’s Shock
“Sigh…….”
Namgung Baek drew his sword and took a deep breath.
It had been hours now since he’d finished his administrative duties, doing nothing but swing his blade.
In days past, he would have been preparing tomorrow’s tasks in advance, but ever since the sparring match with his youngest son, he’d increased his training hours.
“Father, you are not the universe. Nor are you the Namgung Clan. You are ‘Namgung Baek.'”
“Hah, that boy of mine.”
His own name was Baek.
But compared to the renown of the Namgung surname that preceded it, his name was trivial.
The Sega and himself were one body, and he could not imagine himself without Namgung.
‘Ho Yeon. How do you think so freely? You alone have not conquered Guzhou Cheonha by yourself.’
His youngest son was truly remarkable.
Was it thanks to the Sword Heart Resonance?
Perhaps, by inheriting the experiences of many swords, he had gained an open heart.
In his son’s eyes, how stubborn and narrow-minded must he appear?
“Live for yourself now. Surely you, too, have ambitions as a warrior, don’t you?”
“Ambitions as a warrior—of course I do. There was a time when I, too, wished to be an envied figure.”
Namgung Baek murmured softly.
Those youthful, foolish years.
Hailed as a genius, he had thought success would follow endlessly.
But the world proved unforgiving, and after facing the harsh winds of fate, resignation had become his habit.
He had grown old.
“Now, along with myself, the Namgung Clan will support you, Father. Please indulge in some personal desires for once.”
“Hah, at this age, you ask your father to throw a tantrum? My desires became the family’s desires long ago. To separate the two…….”
“Do not content yourself with being merely compost. You yourself are the root, the stem, the flower, and the fruit.”
“I am full just watching you all eat. That is my joy, the reason for my life. Is such a life truly so bad?”
Namgung Baek conversed with his youngest son in memory.
“I understand that Father pursues the Middle Way. But perfect balance—does that not mean never stepping beyond the boundary?”
“Yes, as you say, I pursue the Middle Way. I was taught that lacking nothing and wanting nothing is the finest thing.”
Throughout his life, he had never gambled.
He would not so much as glance at money he had not earned with sweat.
When he met with unexpected fortune, he thought it not his own and gave it away to those around him.
He walked forward in silence, without scheme or shortcut, eyes fixed only ahead.
That was him, Namgung Baek.
“When I think of it, perhaps I am a fearful man. The desire to protect has always been stronger than the desire to gain.”
After his father passed early, his entire life had been an endless act of preservation.
Because of that, his thinking had calcified into defensiveness.
“Father. I believe that having strength but not using it is the same as having no strength at all.”
“Is that so. Was I a coward?”
A very small awakening.
Namgung Baek closed both eyes.
He saw a wall.
The wall’s name was the Namgung Clan.
A wall that had oppressed and tormented him his whole life.
And yet, a wall just as precious.
Crash!
For the first time in his life, Namgung Baek drew his sword before that wall.
“Do not underestimate your own life so much. The Cheonpung Jewang you have painstakingly refined since your youth cannot be inferior to the Royal Sword Form.”
Along with his youngest son’s encouragement, Namgung Baek raised his blade high.
Whoosh!
Wind gathered all around him.
He recalled his childhood.
When he first held a sword in his small, fern-like hands, his late father had spoken to him through the pale excitement that flushed his cheeks.
“You are the eldest son of the Namgung Clan. That is why you are Baek—the eldest. I am sorry to burden you with such a heavy load. But this father believes. Our Baek will become the emperor who will revitalize the Namgung Clan.”
‘Jewang Chulgung.’
Whoosh!
The Cheonpung Jewang swordwork taught by his father had begun.
A single stroke extended forth with majesty and breath, like an emperor leaving his palace, brimming with grandeur and confidence.
‘Jewang Sunsi.’
The emperor surveyed his surroundings as if inspecting his own territory.
‘Poongun Byeonsaek.’
At his invocation, the wind and clouds shifted hue, as if welcoming the Emperor’s advent.
‘Cheonpung Sojo.’
Whoooosh!
The capricious Emperor swept his hand, and celestial winds radiated outward like tides being cleared from the land.
‘Jewang Eoguk.’
The Emperor’s dominion was proclaimed.
‘Cheonje Ilryeong.’
The Emperor’s command, abstract as rumor itself, fell like wind-sharpened blades.
‘Jewang Gyeolchaek.’
The Emperor’s decisions were swift and decisive.
‘Jewang Apjeong.’
And sometimes he wielded oppression, pressing down from above with terrible majesty.
‘Manguk Jogong.’
Roaarrr!
At the Emperor’s fury, gales converged from all nations like tribute, gathering into a single blade stroke.
‘Jewang Gasang.’
Shaaaa!
Pleased with the tribute, the Emperor scattered his beautiful reward—gentle breezes—in all directions.
‘Cheonpung Oksae.’
Compressed celestial winds shot forth in succession, like seals pressed from a sword tip.
‘Eojin Paun.’
The Emperor’s true form became a towering wall of wind, shattering clouds and pressing forward.
‘Geumchaek Bunpung.’
Successive cuts that divided the wind like the dispensation of virtue shook heaven and earth.
‘Eocha Hoenghaeng.’
The Emperor’s wind-chariot traversed the sky in a straight, unwavering line.
‘Huipung Yongpo.’
Swirling winds wrapped about him like dragon robes, and he raised his blade.
‘Pungwang Iltong.’
Kwaaaaaa!
The Wind King unified the entire realm.
“Hhaa! Hhaa! Hhaa!”
Namgung Baek, lost in ecstatic absorption, suddenly realized the wall was no longer visible.
Had the wall shattered?
No. That wasn’t it.
He was standing atop the wall.
‘Ah……!’
From his vantage on the wall’s crest, the familiar landscape of the Namgung Clan spread before his eyes.
Smoke from cooking fires curled gently upward; children played; warriors dripped with sweat, honing their craft.
‘Yes. For this sight—I have endured all these years.’
Namgung Baek’s chest swelled.
It felt as though a lifetime of sacrifice for the Namgung Clan had been repaid in a single moment.
He opened eyes he hadn’t known were closed.
Thrum-whoooom!
Brilliant azure sword energy gathered like constellation stars.
The circulation of Qi flowed as smoothly as if drawing forth geomgi itself.
Without his knowing, he had pierced through the Life-Death Gateway.
“Seungbyeok…… I’ve done it.”
Namgung Baek murmured flatly.
He felt less awestruck than bewildered.
He had only gathered his courage for the first time, stepped forward one pace with genuine desire.
And that place was atop a wall?
“……Hmm?”
In that moment, his heightened Gigam caught strange presences.
Namgung Baek’s expression hardened like stone.
“Who dares cast eyes upon the wall of the great Namgung Clan?”
This wall belonged to one master alone.
Namgung Baek.
I am the firstborn of Namgung.
* * *
“What landscape do you see, then?”
A figure emerged atop the stone bridge.
A tall man nearing seven feet, his white hair catching the moonlight, regarded Namgung Baek with a smile creasing his weathered mouth.
At the sight of the old man revealed in the pale light, Namgung Baek drew his sword.
Click.
“Sword Demon, what brings you to Hapbi?”
“Heh heh, my general was being such a nag I decided to slip away.”
At Mo Yong Sang Cheon’s words, Namgung Baek said nothing, only studying him with an unwavering gaze.
Though he had sheathed his blade, Namgung Baek’s stalwart resolve remained fixed upon Mo Yong Sang Cheon.
Feeling this, Mo Yong Sang Cheon smiled broadly and spoke.
“In truth, I came at someone’s request.”
“A request… you say?”
“From your youngest son.”
“Ho Yeon?”
As Namgung Baek’s brow furrowed, Mo Yong Sang Cheon drew a letter from his sleeve and flourished it.
Fluttered!
“Heh heh, the Jeegal boy sent word through the Baekga Maeng requesting support. He reckoned that if the Namgung Clan’s forces withdrew to Jeolgang, enemies would seize the opportunity—and he wanted to turn that against them and annihilate them.”
“……”
“But the Baekga Maeng lacks the strength to spare troops with the Gubaek Sheng Pae consuming our forces, so this idle old man came out for a stroll.”
“Sigh……”
Namgung Baek exhaled a long breath and shook his head slowly.
Ho Yeon’s work again.
‘This rascal. When he returns, I’m having words with him. I’ve spoiled him far too much.’
To think he would orchestrate such a scheme without consulting the family head himself.
No matter how it was done for the sake of the clan, it called for stern discipline.
Namgung Baek resolved this time not to weaken and to deliver a fitting punishment.
As Namgung Baek handed over his fists in salute, he opened his mouth.
“I am grateful for stepping forward at such an unreasonable request.”
“Heh heh, spare me the thanks. I enjoyed the spectacle well enough.”
Mo Yong Sang Cheon studied Namgung Baek intently, then posed a question.
“When did you breach the wall?”
“Just moments ago.”
“Congratulations. You are now a treasure of the Martial World.”
“Thank you.”
“Stiff as a board, just like your father, aren’t you?”
At Namgung Baek’s terse reply, Mo Yong Sang Cheon smiled and continued.
“That earlier question of mine—what landscape appears to you now?”
“The Namgung Clan.”
“Ah?”
Mo Yong Sang Cheon let out a sound of intrigue and examined Namgung Baek’s Qi Aura.
Like wind itself. Yet weighty. Beneath the soft essence lay concealed a keen sharpness, and behind the frigid imperial might of a harsh northern wind dwelt the warmth of spring breeze.
“Cultivate ever deeper. Seungbyeok is but a beginning, not an end.”
“I shall remember.”
“It might serve you well to visit your wife, too.”
“She dislikes me.”
“Ha ha ha, I remember now. Some thief absconded with my youngest daughter, and I was quite vexed for a while.”
Mo Yong Sang Cheon burst into hearty laughter and turned to leave.
“Are you departing?”
“I don’t believe I’m needed here.”
Please, consider the journey safe.”
“……”
Step, step, step.
After his farewell, Namgung Baek turned without hesitation and walked away.
Watching his receding figure, a faint amusement flickered across Mo Yong Sang Cheon’s face.
Here stood one of the Five Emperors himself—and an elder who had come to aid his clan, no less—yet not a single word of welcome or invitation?
It did not align with the temperament of the Sword Immortal as the world knew it.
‘Hmm? Does he know something? Or is it instinct?’
Though the situation might have wounded pride, Mo Yong Sang Cheon paid it no mind.
“Heh heh heh! Chang Hak. I find myself thinking of you today.”
* * *
Namgung Ho Yeon returned to the Sega.
After the conference, the Gangnam Samsang-hoe had decided to support the Baekga Maeng, and with no reason to linger in Hangju, he’d made swift passage home.
“What in the world is all this……?”
“I’m not entirely certain, sir.”
“Has something auspicious befallen the household?”
“Ah? Young master. Could it be you’re getting a younger brother?”
The returning party found the bustling atmosphere of the manor utterly bewildering.
At first, Namgung Ho Yeon had thought the household was simply making a fuss over his homecoming again, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
Carriages streamed endlessly into the Namgung Sega, and outside visitors stood in long lines.
“Ha-ha-ha! If it isn’t our young lord Gwangyong gracing us with his presence!”
“Elder Yeom?”
Before the staff milling about like sheaves of grain, a wizened old man of unremarkable appearance stepped forward.
He was Namgung Yeom, the Second Elder—a man so well-connected within the Sega that gossip was said to pass through his ears first.
His smile stretched wide as he clasped his hands together.
“What is the meaning of all this?”
“Puh-heh-heh! Glad tidings, glad tidings indeed!”
“Elder Yeom?”
“Ah, wonderful! I’ve lived long enough to see this day!”
Even as Namgung Ho Yeon pressed for answers, Namgung Yeom threw dignity to the wind and danced with unbridled joy.
‘This mad old fool. Here we go again.’
Though Namgung Ho Yeon thought he’d grown accustomed to the elder’s theatrics, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow.
The old man only behaved this way when word came that he’d achieved some great merit abroad.
‘Wait. But this wasn’t such a grand affair. What happened at Dangyyo was practically an assassination—there were no witnesses to speak of.’
As Namgung Ho Yeon tilted his head in confusion,
an astonishing revelation tumbled from Namgung Yeom’s lips.
“Puh-ha-ha-ha! At last, a Hwagyeong-ui Gosu has been born to our main branch!”
“W-what did you say?!”
“Seungbyeok, I say! Seungbyeok! All those who dared dismiss the Sword Immortal Namgung Baek—let them crawl out here now! I’ll thrash them till they can’t sit straight!”
“……!”

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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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