Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 2

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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 2. The Sword Demon Finds a Home
He opened his eyes.
The boy in the mirror still gazed back at him.
“……So that’s what happened.”
Dan Woimyeong, having glimpsed the boy’s memories, could piece together what had transpired.
The boy who had awakened Sword Heart Resonance had, in his excitement, overextended his ability.
And the result had been death.
“I still don’t know why I ended up in this kid’s body…….”
He wondered if it had something to do with the Heavenly Thunder Sword, though even that remained uncertain.
“In any case, I’m alive again? Three hundred years after I died, reborn as a descendant of old Namgung Cheongang?”
It was absurd.
Such things actually happened.
Dan Woimyeong, now aware of his resurrection, felt no joy whatsoever.
If anything, it was infuriating.
“Damn it! Thrown into this all over again! What the hell am I supposed to do now?!”
The sight of the pretty boy in the mirror spewing crude profanities created a jarring discord.
But Dan Woimyeong paid it no mind, clutching his head as he swore again.
“What kind of rotten fate is this? Forced to repeat that meaningless life all over again?”
Why had he become a Sword Demon?
Because he knew nothing but the sword.
He was worthless at anything except wielding a blade.
All he had ever known was swinging a sword, thrusting it, killing his opponent.
‘Why was I born? Why do I live? Why must I wield a sword?’
The unanswerable question that had followed him through his previous life had returned.
Must he repeat this hollow existence, swept along by fate’s hand like a mere blade?
“……No. It won’t happen again.”
The boy’s eyes in the mirror blazed with defiance.
Whether it was the work of the Primordial Heavenly Worthy or the Ancient Lord of the East, he didn’t know.
If they meant to toy with him again, he would never comply willingly.
‘Fortunately, the circumstances are favorable. The Namgung Clan. Isn’t it the greatest family under heaven?’
Azure Heaven Namgung.
The greatest family under heaven.
The Namgung Clan had reigned as the foremost family for ages — a noble house of legendary standing.
Having become their young master, at least he wouldn’t need to wield a sword just to survive, as he had in his past life.
“Namgung Hoyeon. That’s the name, isn’t it?”
Dan Woimyeong, looking at the boy’s face in the mirror, accepted that he had become Namgung Hoyeon.
“……Don’t harbor resentment. It was merely an unfortunate accident. The same for both of us.”
Thinking of Namgung Hoyeon, already dead, did prick his conscience somewhat.
But Dan Woimyeong now resolved to live forward as Namgung Hoyeon.
“For that, I’ll need power first.”
One thing he had learned during his time as a Sword Demon was that this cursed Martial Realm of the Central Plains showed no mercy to the weak.
‘But I can’t reveal too much ability either. The nail that sticks up gets hammered down first, after all.’
Dan Woimyeong — or rather, Hoyeon — decided to follow the Hide Three-Tenths Power, an old adage of the Martial Realm.
A true martial practitioner must always conceal three-tenths of their true strength.
Back when he was Dan Woimyeong, his inability to do so had made him a target of the Righteous Sect.
‘But in my case, I need to Display Three-Tenths Power. I must reveal only three-tenths of my strength. Because…….’
Hoyeon focused his mind.
At once, the space between his eyebrows, at the center of his brow ridge, grew hot.
Spirit Force had concentrated in the Seal Hall Acupoint, commonly known as the Upper Dantian.
‘Just as I thought — the Upper Dantian is already awakened.’
Hoyeon’s eyes gleamed.
Those whose Upper Dantian had blossomed and who could wield Spirit Force — the power of the soul itself — were collectively known as Spirit Force Users.
Such power was not something one could choose to attain; it required selection by Heaven, and so they were also called Heaven’s Chosen.
It was a rare Talent, and among such gifts, some were rarer still than others.
Whoosh!
Hoyeon reached out and seized the sword resting at the head of the bed.
The pommel was adorned with a Blue Tassel, and the scabbard bore a butterfly ornament of carved jade.
Shring.
Hoyeon drew the blade.
The silver steel gleamed into view, and he felt the sword’s heart.
Whine!
“…When are you going to oil me, huh? Listen here, beast. Your master nearly died—no, did die—and all you can whine about is oil?”
Whine!
“Dust is getting to you? Well, I’m far more frustrated, you damned thing!”
Whine… whine!
“What’s this? Talking back now? Should I just throw you away?”
Whine…
Each time Hoyeon spoke, the blade resonated in a deep, resonant hum, conveying his state of mind.
A rare spirit force that allowed one to sense a sword’s essence and communicate with it.
Sword Heart Resonance.
In ages past, it was an extraordinarily rare ability wielded by the legendary Sword Saint Namgung Cheongang.
‘I can use Sword Heart Resonance. Now…’
Hoyeon pressed deeper into concentration, ignoring the scorching heat that had built up in his Upper Dantian.
His eyes remained fixed on the blade as beads of sweat began to pour down his forehead in thick rivulets.
And then, at last.
Hum!
The sword rose into the air, hovering roughly one span above his palm.
Onlookers would have gasped and called it Void Object Manipulation.
For Void Object Manipulation was a technique that only the rarest elite masters—those with an exceptional grasp of Qi—could ever hope to master.
Yet the blade Hoyeon held aloft contained no Qi whatsoever.
It hovered as though a phantom had lifted it, suspended by nothing at all.
This was the spirit force that once made the Sword Demon Dan Woimyeong a public enemy of the Martial Realm.
A divine technique that could bend the world itself through will and thought alone.
Intent-Qi Telekinesis.
“Nngh…!”
His entire skull burned with agony that felt like it might splinter apart, yet Hoyeon did not cease the telekinesis.
‘My Upper Dantian is too cramped! It’s natural—the spirit force only just awakened—but at this level, I can’t even sustain one sword!’
One Sword was his personal unit of measurement: the amount of spirit force required to control a single blade for half an hour.
Without even that much power, survival in this harsh Martial Realm was impossible.
“Ahhhhh!”
His brain felt as if it were cooking, the cerebrospinal fluid within roiling like a boiling cauldron.
The suspended blade multiplied in his vision, and his eye sockets burned so intensely the world bloomed crimson.
Yet Hoyeon only opened his eyes wider, gritting his teeth against the torment.
‘Endure! Spirit force grows stronger the more you use it, the more you push past your limits! This pain is nothing! Compared to back then…!’
Hoyeon was grinding through the agony with the ruthlessness of his Sword Demon days when—
Tap-tap-tap!
Rapid footsteps echoed through the chamber, and Hoyeon immediately severed the telekinesis.
Thunk.
Creak!
The blade clattered onto the bed just as the door swung open, and a pale-faced woman caught sight of him and cried out.
“My son!”
My son?
At fifteen—the Age of Learning—one should have cut down a hundred men by now, yet here she was calling him a child?
‘This woman has lost her mind…’
Hoyeon’s brow furrowed from the intense headache.
The pale-faced woman, Peng Xiaohua, rushed toward her sweat-drenched son.
Tap-tap-tap! Embrace!
“Oh! Oh no! My son!”
“Wait—no, I…”
Caught suddenly in Peng Xiaohua’s arms, Hoyeon panicked and tried to extract himself from her embrace.
But the sobbing that followed froze him in place.
“Sob… thank you for being alive… I don’t ask for anything else, you understand? As long as my boy stays healthy, that’s all I need…”
“…”
Held awkwardly, Hoyeon’s brow twitched slightly.
Thank him for being alive?
Mother?
A child?
Just wanting him to stay healthy?
‘…This is ridiculous.’
Hoyeon felt a strange tightness bloom in his chest.
Perhaps it was because this woman held him so tightly.
At the same time, something churned in his chest.
It was her hot tears soaking through his front garment that caused it.
There could be no other reason.
There could not be.
* * *
“He is well.”
“That cannot be! Feel how his body burns like fire!”
“Well……”
The physician Seo Junghak scratched his cheek, looking thoroughly awkward.
Peng Xiaohua, clutching her youngest son as if he might flee again, glared at him with fierce eyes.
“Even so……”
“Mother, it’s all right. Hoyeon says so himself, doesn’t he?”
A sturdy young man came to Seo Junghak’s aid.
‘…… I see that old man in him.’
Trapped in Peng Xiaohua’s embrace, Hoyeon studied the youth’s face carefully.
Within it, he could discern the old man from Sword Demon Valley—Namgung Cheongang.
Even their names were similar.
Namgung Cheonggang.
The young master of the Namgung Clan, and his older brother.
“Cheonggang, you didn’t see it. Hoyeon was crying out, calling my name just moments ago.”
‘But he wasn’t.’
Hoyeon lifted his head slightly to look at the beautiful woman embracing him.
This woman, who looked to be perhaps thirty at most, was his mother.
‘Peng Xiaohua. The daughter of the Hebei Peng Family?’
As Hoyeon pondered this, another woman’s voice reached him.
“He called Mother’s name? But didn’t Hoyeon lose his memory? How does he know Mother’s name?”
She bore a striking resemblance to Peng Xiaohua, though the outer corners of her eyes tilted upward slightly, giving her a sharp appearance.
‘Namgung Sang-a. My…… sister?’
“Well, of course—one doesn’t forget one’s mother’s name, does one?”
“Nonsense! Then he would have called mine!”
“Hmm, since he followed me, wouldn’t he have called my name?”
“Tch, you think he’d remember you? You’re always locked away in the Cultivation Chamber—how would he know?”
“What? Sang-a. Is that how you speak to your brother?”
“Brother, indeed……”
Hoyeon frowned as he watched the siblings begin their quarrel.
‘What? These people are truly Namgung?’
From what he remembered, those who bore the Namgung surname always wore arrogant expressions and seldom mingled casually with others.
And whenever they did speak, they spewed tactless remarks that grated on one’s nerves.
That was how he remembered the Namgung to be……
“Hoyeon followed me most!”
“What? He went to the Marketplace holding my hand every day!”
“Then shall we ask him?”
“By all means!”
The bickering siblings turned their gazes upon him simultaneously.
‘What—what am I supposed to do?’
As Hoyeon flinched in confusion, Peng Xiaohua felt it and held him even more tightly, scolding her children.
“Cheonggang. Sang-a. Don’t you see your brother is unwell? What is this commotion?”
“Hmm……”
“…… It’s your fault.”
Cheonggang and Sang-a fell silent under their mother’s reproach, and Peng Xiaohua turned to Hoyeon with a gentler voice.
“It’s all right, my son. You needn’t force yourself to remember. We love you all the same.”
“…”
Her words left Hoyeon with an ache in his chest.
Yet even as she spoke so gently,
hope glimmered in the eyes of everyone present, and that made it worse.
‘Is this guilt…… that I have stolen this child’s body?’
Hoyeon could not easily define what he felt.
But one thing was certain:
he could not bear to disappoint them.
‘Tsk. Is this just lingering emotion left in me? How pathetic…….’
Even as the thought crossed his mind, Hoyeon gripped his sword.
Tap.
The Sword Heart Resonance activated, and the blade’s voice came through.
“I’m not quite sure yet…….”
As Hoyeon took hold of the sword and opened his mouth, a finely trembling voice spilled out.
“Ah…….”
“Is that so?”
“Sigh…….”
As the three faces darkened, Hoyeon quickly continued.
“But when I look at this sword, I remember…… you, Mother.”
Hoyeon spoke awkwardly, calling Peng Xiaohua “Mother.”
Peng Xiaohua’s eyes widened, and joy bloomed across her face.
“That’s right! That sword is the one I gave you when you turned ten!”
“And when I see this Blue Tassel, I remember…… you, Elder Brother.”
Calling Namgung Cheonggang “Elder Brother” required greater effort, but Hoyeon forced his eyes shut and spoke.
And judging by Namgung Cheonggang’s response that followed, he’d made the right choice.
“Yes! That’s it! That’s what I brought back for you from my first journey to the Jianghu!”
“Then…… this Jade Butterfly Ornament—did you give it to me, Elder Sister?”
“Yes…… ah. We bought it together at the marketplace. You remember that, don’t you?”
Joy flickered across Namgung Sang-a’s features as well.
Hoyeon felt the tightness in his chest ease slightly, and he nodded.
“I remember it…… faintly.”
“Oh, this is Heavenly Fortune. It doesn’t appear to be complete amnesia.”
At Hoyeon’s words, Seo Junghak’s expression brightened.
“So…… how can we restore Hoyeon’s memories?” Namgung Sang-a asked.
Seo Junghak stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“Hmm…… it might help if you visit places where memories could resurface, or engage in activities together.”
At those words, the gazes of Peng Xiaohua, Namgung Cheonggang, and Namgung Sang-a all turned toward Hoyeon, and a dark premonition seized him.
‘……Surely not. Please, no.’

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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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