Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 201

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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 201. The Sword Demon Severs All Bonds
Whoosh!
The explosion vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, swallowed by the blink of an eye.
“……What in the world is this creature?”
Jongli San, the Suradomunmun King, muttered through clenched teeth, his face rigid as stone.
He’d been caught off guard thoroughly.
What galled him was that he couldn’t even fathom what technique the bastard had used.
“Fire travel evasion? That didn’t feel like it.”
An answer came in response to Jongli San’s muttering.
“What does it matter? Let’s chase him down and tear him to shreds right now.”
“Hehehehe! I like that! We’ll rip his limbs to ribbons and toss them to the dogs!”
One voice came from the right, another from the left.
Jongli San turned his head to regard the owners of those voices.
They were identical to Jongli San in every way, save that they were formed entirely of crimson energy—two additional heads.
Jongli San spoke.
It was self-interrogation.
“Impossible. We cannot search this vast Poyang Lake inch by inch.”
“Then you mean to let him slip away?”
“Hehehehe! We cannot allow that!”
“Of course not. The creature has a destination. We need only seal every path to it.”
Jongli San’s voice turned glacial.
“All overland routes back to Anhui are already blockaded. The bastard thinks he’ll flee down the Poyang Lake and into the Yangtze River.”
Ssshhh!
A sinister smile spread across Jongli San’s face.
“By now, troops should have reached Pengze. We march north with the Beast Light Guard.”
“Hehehehe! Those creatures’ noses can scent even a hunted animal washed clean in water!”
“Kehehehe! A rat in a jar!”
The two other Jongli Sans laughed at his words.
Clang-clang-clang!
Screech!
In that moment, the Surah Four Arms that had been chasing Namgung Ho Yeon returned.
Its four arms were a gruesome sight, wrapped in blood-crimson armor.
Six arms total when combined with Jongli San’s own two. And three heads.
It was the reincarnation of the Asura with Three Heads and Six Arms from ancient myth.
This was Jongli San’s Myriad Form True Heart.
The Asura War Form Body.
“That green jade, though—it was definitely the Eternal Moon River Qi.”
Crack!
Jongli San examined the war form’s palm, his brow furrowing.
The armor of the war form was spider-webbed with hairline fractures.
“Has he unraveled the secret of the Eternal Moon?”
“Ahhhhh! How dare this creature lay hands upon the possessions of this king! Such atrocity is unforgivable!”
“Kehehehe, he must be killed. The Eternal Moon is ours!”
The two heads shrieked.
The right head embodied Wrath, the left Madness.
And Jongli San in the center carried Cruelty.
“Indeed. The Eternal Moon River Qi is the spoils of war belonging to this king. Theft shall not be tolerated.”
Buzz!
A crimson killing intent ignited in all six of Jongli San’s eyes.
In the next moment, that gaze turned as one toward Jongli Pae, crawling on the ground like an insect.
“Ah! Uh-uh…….”
Jongli Pae dared not meet those eyes, his head bowed low.
Though his right arm had been severed and his entire body burned, the terror inscribed upon his very soul by the Asura dwarfed any physical agony.
‘The Asura…… has emerged……! Now there is no one who can stop Father……!’
When the Asura took hold, Father had no choice but to destroy and kill to ease his madness.
There was no guarantee he would not become the sacrifice to that cataclysmic frenzy.
“This worthless thing.”
“Grrhehe! And to think this is my son. Shameful. Shall I kill him outright?”
“Kehehehe, sons are plentiful. We can spare one.”
“Uh…… uh-uh-uh…….”
Just before the death sentence could be passed.
Jongli San in the center shook his head.
“Still useful. I’ve invested too much in this wretch to dispose of him so easily.”
“Huh! Huh!”
“You—take the Narak Sambdae and surround Woryeong Domunmun at once.”
“Uurgh! Now that’s fine! Traitors deserve the hammer!”
“Kyahahaha! A massacre after so long!”
“Yes, I understand!”
At the Asura’s command, Jongli Pae staggered to his feet.
‘I—I’m alive.’
The Asura meant to vent his anger by obliterating Woryeong Domunmun.
Thanks to that, he’d kept his life—he almost felt grateful to those two women.
Tap! Tap!
The moment Jongli Pae took his first step toward mustering the Narak Sambdae.
Crack!—
Something like a meteor shower fell from the heavens in a trajectory fast as cannon fire, piercing straight through Jongli Pae’s chest.
Boom!
“What…?”
Jongli Pae stared down at his own chest, bewildered.
Through the circular hole, a faint Eternal Moon gleamed.
‘Why… am I seeing the moon?’
Thump!
With that thought as his last.
Jongli Pae tilted and crashed into the sandbar, falling.
He was dead.
“…….”
“Hm?”
“Kehehehe!”
Even with his son dead, the Three-Headed Asura paid no mind.
They simply turned their heads in unison toward the sand ridge opposite.
Step, step, step.
Footfalls echoed.
What emerged was a middle-aged man of unremarkable appearance.
Yet Jongli San knew he was anything but ordinary.
“The Dice Gambler King. Yang Mu Cheon.”
“We meet again, you many-legged creature.”
Yang Mu Cheon regarded Jongli San with a thin smile.
Jongli San glared back, then his gaze shifted to what Yang Mu Cheon held in his hand.
“That is…”
“Ah, this. Picked it up along the way today.”
He lifted it.
Yang Mu Cheon raised the severed head high.
An old man with a tangled beard and wild hair, eyes bulging, tongue thrust out in death.
“The Beast Light Guard Master.”
“An elder of his years resorting to Wheel Transformation against children—looked so pitiful I put them all out of their misery.”
“…Why exactly are you taking Baekmu Academy’s side?”
“Taking sides? The only side I ever took a turn on was the dice.”
Whoosh!
Crack!—
Yang Mu Cheon hurled the head as a welcome-back gift.
The head flew like a cannonball, caught in the palm of the Asura War Form Body.
Splorch!
Jongli San’s face twisted as he crushed the skull beneath his palm.
“Did you come because of the Hojeobdomunmun matter?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then why?”
“Looking for a fitting place to die.”
“…….”
That familiar-sounding declaration made Jongli San’s face contort.
‘This damned madman—his obsession’s flared up again!’
Years ago, there had been a time when he faced Yang Mu Cheon, the so-called Tyrant King, who had rashly stormed into the Suradomunmun.
The result was a draw.
Since that day, Jongli San had come to shun Yang Mu Cheon like the plague—that madman held nothing but contempt for him.
What was the point in fighting a lunatic who charged ahead with no goal, no intention, only a death wish? There was nothing to gain.
“What in blazes do you want? If you’re so desperate to die, why not just take your own life?”
“Heh heh. I can’t do that. I made a promise with Gun Woo. To live each day giving it my all.”
“You cursed madman……!”
“Krahaha! This time I’ll kill you for certain!”
“Kihihi! By the name of Surah!”
Rumble! Rumble!
Jongli San began spinning the wheels of the Six Path Wheel Divine Art.
Realizing the fight could not be avoided, he unleashed his full power.
‘That lunatic won’t die from shallow wounds. Only a killing blow will end this.’
As Jongli San began to gather his momentum, Yang Mu Cheon likewise started channeling the Hidden Power Burst Body Qi Art to its maximum.
Bang! Crash! Bang!
Then came the successive sound of Heaven Thunder Mines detonating from Yang Mu Cheon’s dantian.
“Krehehehe!”
Blood trickled down.
Blood poured from Yang Mu Cheon’s mouth.
Seeing this, Jongli San cried out.
“You’re still doing this insane thing!”
“Heh! How else could an ordinary man like me, a mere father, ever avenge my son?”
Yang Mu Cheon laughed.
The essential teachings his son Gun Woo had written in the legacy scripture were originally about the Burst Stockpile Segment Art.
The Burst Stockpile Segment Art addressed methods of rapidly accumulating Nae Gong, a method that relied on the gradual growth of internal power through the collision of Qi.
This had given Yang Mu Cheon wings.
Having awakened Wound Heal Reconstruction, he recklessly wielded the Burst Stockpile Segment Art regardless of whether his Hyeol Do tore open.
And in doing so, he had transformed himself into something entirely new.
‘Inhale external Qi. Compress it against internal Qi. Explosion occurs in the dantian, amplifying power. Then exhale all at once. Repeat!’
Bang! Crash-crash-crash!
The Hidden Power Burst Body Qi Art that Yang Mu Cheon had devised was, in a word, reckless abandon.
The succession of inhalation, compression, explosion, and exhalation would normally drive an ordinary person into Qi Deviation a hundred times over—it was that violent.
Whoooosh!
Yet Yang Mu Cheon erupted in wild laughter, pale tomb ash smoke billowing from his entire body.
“Ahahaha! Shall I divine today’s fortune?”
Whoom!
Yang Mu Cheon’s hand moved toward his solar plexus, and between his index and middle finger, two dice suddenly appeared.
This was the Myriad Form True Heart of Yang Mu Cheon—the Tyrant King of Combat and the Tyrant King of Dice alike.
The Double Dice.
Whoosh!
Yang Mu Cheon threw the Double Dice.
The two dice rolled across the floor, then came to rest facing skyward.
Six. Six.
The sum was twelve.
Double Six.
Crash-crash-crash―!
At the same moment, the pale tomb ash hidden power Qi that had been leaking from Yang Mu Cheon amplified twelve-fold.
Yang Mu Cheon let out a scream.
“Damn it! So I really am unlucky! Looks like I won’t be dying today either!”
“Kraaaaah!”
Crash-crash-crash!
For a time, earth-shaking detonations tore through the Twin Bell Pavilion without cease.
* * *
A quiet country place.
Click! Squeak! Click-click! Squeak!
A woman sat at a loom, weaving cloth.
She appeared to be in her early thirties, but the deep lines at the corners of her mouth made her look older than her years—the face of someone who had endured much hardship.
Despite her eyes being closed, her fingers moved with such dexterity that her weaving seemed almost miraculous.
“Count refers to the thickness of the thread, and direction refers to its density.”
The woman spoke.
Dan Wee Myeong, who had been leaning against the rear wall, spoke up.
“So what you’re saying is: fewer threads and higher picks make the fabric thick and tight, while more threads and lower picks make it thin and loose?”
“Exactly. You catch on quickly. Hehe.”
The woman continued with a smile.
“I’ll tell you about the three fundamental weaves as well.”
“Three fundamental weaves?”
“They’re also called the Three Fundamental Weaves. Plain Weave, Satin Weave, and Twill Weave—those are the three.”
Click-clack! Squeak! Click-clack! Squeak!
Even as she spoke, her hands continued weaving without pause.
“Plain Weave is where the warp and weft threads cross in a one-to-one pattern. Because of that, it’s very durable and stable, but the surface is rough and not smooth.”
“I see.”
“Satin Weave, by contrast, is structured with floats that minimize the crossing points between warp and weft. This makes it less durable but more flexible, and the surface is smooth with a lustrous sheen.”
“So Plain Weave would be used for everyday clothes, and Satin Weave for fine garments?”
“Exactly! Muslin is Plain Weave, and Silk Satin is Satin Weave. You really are hearing all this for the first time?”
“Ahem, explain Twill Weave.”
Namgung Ho Yeon spoke after clearing his throat.
The woman smiled broadly and continued her explanation.
“Twill Weave is easy to think of as the middle ground between Plain and Satin. The warp and weft cross in ratios like two-to-one or three-to-one, creating various patterns.”
“Interesting.”
“Depending on the pattern and weaving method, there’s regular Twill, fast Twill, weft-face Twill, warp-face Twill, double-face Twill, and even something called Seagull Twill because of its seagull-like appearance.”
“That’s complex.”
“Hehe, what learning isn’t difficult? Twill is also called Diagonal Weave because diagonal patterns appear on the surface.”
The woman’s explanation continued softly for some time after that.
Her chattering manner seemed little different from how she had been long ago.
Dan Wee Myeong, watching her intently, asked a question.
“Don’t you get bored weaving cloth alone in a place like this?”
“Bored… yes, I do.”
“Why not mingle with people? Cheon Gyeol Jik Nyeo wouldn’t lack for money.”
The woman was called Cheon Gyeol Jik Nyeo—a name meaning “the Weaver of Heaven’s Bonds.”
It was a well-known story: the mistress of the Silver Thread Weaving Hall had taken pity on her when she was wandering the streets and brought her in to raise her like a daughter.
Though she had been called the Mad Woman at first, through the mistress’s gentle care she gradually found stability and became the greatest weaver in Zhongyuan.
Thanks to her weaving skill, the Silver Thread Weaving Hall had grown enough to rank among the three greatest weaving halls in the realm.
A beautiful story of how the mistress’s kindness had brought good fortune had spread widely throughout this region.
“Money… In the old days, the lack of it was truly difficult,” the woman murmured with a wistful smile in response to Dan Wee Myeong’s question.
“A younger sister who followed me… died of consumption. Missing the window for treatment proved fatal. If only I’d had money then… it would have been so different.”
“.……”
“And now, I’ve decided to keep my distance from people.”
“Why?”
At Dan Wee Myeong’s question, the woman stopped her weaving and murmured.
“……I couldn’t trust even a true friend, and I was terribly betrayed by someone.”
“.……”
“Hehe, I suppose I have no eye for people. That’s why I’m blind, I guess.”
“.……”
“When I meet that friend, I want to apologize… but when the time comes, I don’t know what to say.”
“Couldn’t you just say you’re sorry?”
“I don’t know. Can forgiveness really come from just one word like that? Truth be told, I don’t want to see her for the rest of my life. That’s why I hide away in a place like this. I’m quite the coward, aren’t I?”
Click-clack! Squeak! Click-clack! Squeak!
Once she finished speaking, the woman resumed her weaving.
After watching her for a time, Dan Wee Myeong left the room.
Step, step, step.
As he walked, Dan Wee Myeong glanced back.
The woman was bent over the loom, her shoulders trembling.
“There’s no real need to apologize.”
Dan Wee Myeong murmured absently.
“That despair, that rage, that sense of betrayal—I remember none of it.”
Finding her had been nothing but curiosity.
If I were to meet her now, what would my reaction be?
Would I be angry? Would I harbor resentment? Would I demand to know why she did what she did back then? Or would the affection of childhood be rekindled?
But from his own heart, no emotion stirred at all.

“Now I am merely a blade worn down by use.”
Dan Wee Myeong turned back.
He moved forward once more.
“Live as a human, Choo Ga Ye.”
Today, the Geom-gwi severed yet another thread of connection.

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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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