Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 152

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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 152. The Sword Demon Hears the Words of Farewell
South of the Gobi Desert.
The interior of Guihuacheng, also known as Hohhot, was currently under a state of emergency.
“W-what in blazes is happening!”
Pojeongsa Ham Ik had rushed out in the dead of night without even dressing properly.
But he had no mind for such trifles.
Whoosh! Whoooosh!
Fire demons were devouring everything in sight.
The crimson-handed spirit of flame, waving its tendrils of fire, was tearing through the Northern Victory garrison’s supply warehouse under Ham Ik’s jurisdiction.
“Extinguish it at once! If the northern warehouse catches fire—!”
Ham Ik had turned ashen, hurrying his subordinates along.
The northern warehouse housed secret weapons known only to a select few.
‘Twenty crates of Jincheonrae, no less!’
The Jincheonrae, called the thunder that shakes heaven itself, was a type of incendiary ordnance—
When detonated, it could reduce everything within thirty feet to ash. A fearsome instrument of war.
Given the terrible power and devastation it wrought, the Silver Dynasty’s imperial court had banned the use of Jincheonrae throughout Zhongyuan.
‘Our ace in the hole for sweeping away those Beokjeok savages!’
Ham Ik clutched at his hair.
It was banned in Zhongyuan, yes, but there was nothing to prevent its use beyond those borders.
For this reason, they had been collecting the Jincheonrae to annihilate in one stroke the brigands who periodically rode down from the Gobi Desert on horseback to plunder and pillage.
Yet it wasn’t as though lightning had struck from a clear sky—how had a fire even started?
“Move! Move faster! Deploy more men to the northern warehouse—!”
It was just as Ham Ik was urging the firefighting efforts onward.
A blinding flash erupted from the northern warehouse, followed by a deafening roar like the thunder god itself howling and a thunderbolt splitting the azure sky.
Boom!
Krakabooom!
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
A towering pillar of flame tore through the dark night sky and rose toward the heavens.
The earth trembled from the shock of the explosion, and the northern warehouse vanished without a trace.
Faced with that cataclysm—a judgment worthy of Zhurong himself—the soldiers who had been fighting the flames simply collapsed where they stood.
“Ahhh! Ahhhhh!”
Ham Ik too fell to his knees, staring in disbelief at the blossoming fire and smoke.
‘How am I to answer for this!’
No matter that he was a high-ranking official of the second rank—
He could not escape responsibility for losing twenty crates of Jincheonrae.
‘I—I must find the Regional Commander at once!’
Ham Ik began searching desperately for a way out, clinging to the hope that even when the heavens fall, there is always a hole through which to escape.
Because of this, he failed to notice that the Jincheonrae had detonated before the fire even reached the northern warehouse.
And tens of li distant from the chaos engulfing Guihuacheng, upon a hillside—
Three figures stood watching the raging inferno.
“These cursed wretches! They were hoarding such a devilish weapon!”
A large nomadic warrior mounted on horseback among them muttered through gritted teeth.
His broad, muscular torso bore features distinctly different from those of the Han Chinese.
“The general’s words were correct! Please convey my gratitude to the Director!”
“Of course.”
“I must report to the Khan, so I shall take my leave. Hah!”
Clip-clop! Clip-clop!
The large warrior rode off into the distance, leaving two figures behind.
Among them, a middle-aged man with a broad, fleshy face smiled generously as he spoke.
“With this, it seems the Director has acquired yet another trump card.”
“And Pojeongsa Ham Ik will bow before him in turn—a brilliant stratagem bearing three gains at once.”
“What does the Director intend to do with these Beokjeok barbarians?”
“Heh heh, Lord of Gongryeongmun.”
A young man bearing burn scars along his left cheek turned to face the middle-aged man, twisting his lips into a smile.
“Do you know the saying, ‘Curiosity killed the cat’?”
“Hmph.”
“Focus on your assigned task. Then you too will obtain what you desire.”
“I shall remember.”
Though rebuked by a youth some twenty years his junior, Mo Son, lord of Gongryeongmun, bowed his head respectfully.
‘I could bow a hundred times, a thousand times. If only I could become lord of the Hao Mun!’
A gleam of ambition flickered across Mo Son’s narrow eyes.
Originally, the Gongryeongmun—a minor sect of petty thieves—had been nothing more than a subordinate faction within the Store Gate branch of the Hao Mun.
But since receiving the Society’s backing, the Gongryeongmun had been swiftly expanding its power, devouring the Store Gate itself after the death of its master.
‘At this rate, even becoming the Hao Mun leader is not a dream. I, who was once merely a small-time swindler, will become the head of one of Zhongyuan’s five great intelligence organizations!’
Crack!
Mo Son clenched his fist and spoke.
“Living this long, I’ve plundered officials from every corner. And now to steal the Jincheonrae—who would have imagined?”
As he spoke, Mo Son turned to look back.
Below the slope his gaze fell upon, his subordinates waited with a carriage standing ready.
Inside that carriage lay an amount of Jincheonrae identical to what had just caused the massive explosion.
“Ten crates of Jincheonrae. Nearly a hundred pieces in all.”
“It’s a shame to have detonated half, but it couldn’t be helped. Had we not blown it up, they would have discovered the theft immediately.”
“More than that, the Guild Master’s abilities are truly remarkable. To trigger an explosion from dozens of miles away…”
“Heh, it’s nothing special.”
At Mo Son’s flattering remark, Mo Yong Hak twitched at the burn scar on his left cheek and raised his right hand.
Whoosh!
Fire Qi Manipulation activated, and flames blazed upward. Staring at them intently, Mo Yong Hak continued.
“I merely set the fire qi to ignite at a predetermined time.”
“Indeed. Supernatural abilities are truly mysterious.”
“It’s thanks to this power that I was chosen as the operation’s commander.”
Roar!
A bleak smile appeared at the corners of Mo Yong Hak’s mouth as he watched the raging flames.
‘Two years ago, after losing everything and grinding my teeth through bitter resolve, an opportunity has finally come to me.’
After Baeknyak Sanjang fell, the Qinghai faction was abandoned by Salmak and hid in the Society’s shadow, fleeing the assassination orders of the Moyong Clan.
Mo Yong Hak, who had been the information chief of Qinghai, became its new leader, and with the remaining followers, he carried out the tasks assigned by the Society.
Thus passed two years as a hunting dog.
The General had finally given him his chance.
‘A chance for revenge…!’
“The Baekga Geom-hoe? Ah, that child’s game? Squabble over it among yourselves.”
“I’m about to do something far more amusing.”
“I’ve secured irrefutable evidence that Baeknyak Sanjang was the Hwaedongjidan!”
The memory of that day when everything had crumbled remained vivid in his mind even now.
‘Namgung Ho Yeon! You will never obtain what you desire. Never!’
Snap!
Scatter!
Mo Yong Hak clenched his fist, scattering the sparks, and spoke to Mo Son.
“Let’s go.”
“Understood.”
“Heh, the Jincheonrae that was meant for the Beokjeok has gone to the imperial treasury instead. It seems Wang Zhaojun’s resentment has reached the heavens.”
“Khehehehe! That makes sense indeed.”
Behind the two figures descending the slope, with the inextinguishable flames as backdrop,
there seemed to echo the ominous plucking of a pipa—the lament of Wang Zhaojun.
* * *
―I am delighted beyond measure to be here with all of you to celebrate the opening of Baekmu Academy.
The massive Dae Yeon Mu Jang was once the site where military reviews were held when this place was Yongzin Fortress.
Therefore, it was more of an open field than a martial training ground.
And now, tens of thousands of murin had gathered here to listen to the dedication speech for Baekmu Academy’s opening.
―All experience is preceded by mind, takes mind as its master, and is created by mind. Baekmu Academy itself was founded precisely by such power of the mind.
A soft yet powerful woman’s voice resonated through the ears of tens of thousands.
The murin were unable to contain their admiration at the majestic Nae Gong contained within her voice.
“Truly, Geumjeong is remarkable.”
“To see the Sword Demon nun! Long live Baekmu Academy!”
“One of the Twelve Kings as the academy director? It seems the two sects intend to throw their full support behind Baekmu Academy.”
The murin gazed upward at the pavilion with expressions of admiration.
There stood a nun clad in white robes.
Though her wrinkled face and white hair suggested great age, the fierce gleam of righteous light in her eyes made it difficult to discern her years—she was an elderly nun whose age remained a mystery.
Click!
Around her neck hung white prayer beads—the Western Pure Land 108 Beads, the insignia of the Amipa sect master.
The Great Compassionate King. She was the Sword Demon nun Geumjeong.
―Purity and impurity rest upon oneself. No one can purify another. This means that each of us must take responsibility for our own cultivation. In Baekmu Academy, all of you will gain the opportunity to purify and develop yourselves.
Everyone gazed at Geumjeong, one of the Twelve Kings, with the reverent eyes of youth.
But Namgung Ho Yeon saw her differently.
“God, I’m bored out of my mind. Why do people talk so much when they get old?”
Geumjeong’s speech had already stretched past fifteen minutes, with no sign of ending.
Hye Il, sitting beside him, spoke up.
“Is that so? Master Tae Gwang doesn’t say much—he shows through action instead.”
“Huh? What kind of action?”
“He calls it the love rod.”
“That crazy bastard.”
Even as Namgung Ho Yeon shook his head, Geumjeong’s voice droned on.
―The path of practice is never easy. Yet as the Buddha taught, just as a bucket fills drop by drop, so too must the wise gradually accumulate virtue. You students must persevere with this same steadiness.
“Hee-hee! Poo-hee!”
“You find that funny?”
At the sound of laughter nearby, Namgung Ho Yeon turned to see Gwang Myeong, small and round-faced, beaming with a smile.
“Everything’s funny except the Kunlun Sect!”
“That’s what a Kunlun Sect Daoist should say?”
“Listen—when we ran into Elder Yo Gyeon in Hapbi, I thought it was all over. I was sure we’d be dragged off to Qinghai!”
Gwang Myeong clutched his reddened cheeks in amazement.
“But admission to Baekmu Academy! Yahoo—a weary Daoist finds freedom!”
“Well then, Gwang Myeong. What a pleasure to be classmates. I look forward to studying with you.”
“Likewise!”
“Un Am is here too.”
“And I hope to work well with you as well, Hye Il.”
Un Am, standing behind, spoke, and then Nan A, at his side, opened her mouth.
“Fate brings us together again, face to face once more. We’re all reunited.”
“…Does this even make sense? No matter how I think about it, something’s off.”
Namgung Ho Yeon swept his gaze across the four of them, muttering.
Long-armed ape, sword master, bright sparrow, white fool nun.
This maddening Three Paths One Flower, all traveling companions together?
Too many acquaintances had gathered for it to be mere coincidence.
Namgung Ho Yeon’s confusion dissolved with Nan A’s next words.
“Oh, that. I mentioned it to the Master. I said our five have connections, so if you kept us together, we wouldn’t cause trouble.”
“Insane! You were the one who pulled strings?”
“My, such harsh words from the Sword Demon of Virtue.”
“Friend, shouldn’t we speak more righteously now? This is an academy, after all.”
“Heh-heh-heh! Freedom and love, combined—free love!”
“Haha, how fortunate to be in the same class as you, Sword Friend. I’ll look forward to your guidance.”
“This son of a—!”
Watching the raucous Three Paths One Flower, Namgung Ho Yeon felt his head beginning to throb.
―Now our journey begins. All practitioners, empty your minds. An empty mind reaches the destination swiftly. Cast away all attachment and hatred, and Nirvana will be yours.
Namgung Ho Yeon needed a different class—not Nirvana.
―May the Buddha’s compassion and wisdom accompany all of you, students. Namu Amitabha Buddha, Namu Amitabha Buddha, Namu Amitabha Buddha.
‘Hell, Buddha’s mercy, damn it all.’
At last, Baekmu Academy opened its doors.

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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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