Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 28

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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 28. The Sword Ghost’s Scandal Begins
‘Hoyeon!’
Jegal Ahyeon’s face brightened at the sight of Namgung Hoyeon.
The moment he stepped into Geomun-jeong, the Shimseogamhwa had been severed.
The chaotic whispers of negative emotions had fallen silent, and in that quiet, she had regained her composure.
‘…Wait?’
But it wasn’t long before confusion seized her again.
She’d heard that Hoyeon had secluded himself since arriving at the Moyong Residence, refusing to meet with any of the other younger generation masters.
The only person he’d know here was herself.
So she’d kept her eyes fixed on him, hoping to catch his gaze.
But he walked past without so much as a glance in her direction, moving straight toward a young boy.
‘What…is this?’
Just as Jegal Ahyeon’s brow furrowed, a sinister voice sounded from beside her.
“So that’s the culprit.”
“I beg your pardon?”
When Jegal Ahyeon turned her head, Moyong Cheol glanced at her before continuing.
“Ah, I meant that gray cat.”
“A cat…?”
“That gray cat belongs to my youngest brother. It’s been missing since yesterday, and we’ve been searching for it.”
At Moyong Cheol’s words, the wine-drinking man beside him spoke up.
“Well now, that’s quite unfortunate.”
“Sanyeol.”
“Heh, I’ll go have a word with him. The young master may have simply misunderstood.”
“Wait, just a moment. Hoyeon would never do such a thing!”
“…Hoyeon?”
At Jegal Ahyeon’s urgent defense, Moyong Cheol’s brow deepened.
‘I heard they came together. But the prenatal betrothal with the Namgung Clan should have already been dissolved, shouldn’t it?’
So why was Jegal Ahyeon calling Namgung Hoyeon with such familiarity?
Noticing Moyong Cheol’s expression, Danli Sanyeol smiled wickedly and spoke.
“The young master is still so tender-hearted, isn’t he. I’ll have a proper word with him.”
“I’d be obliged.”
…
Moyong Cheol’s face hardened and he nodded, while Jegal Ahyeon’s complexion paled.
And as Moyong Cheol observed her distress, his frown only deepened.
But what Jegal Ahyeon was truly worried about was something quite different.
‘Hoyeon…! You have to hold on. It’s the first day of the Baekga Geomhoe!’
* * *
“Young Master Namgung Hoyeon!”
“Your complexion has cleared considerably, hasn’t it?”
Hoyeon approached the ragged-haired boy and appraised him from head to toe.
The boy, having shed his grimy appearance and shabby clothes, had remarkably pale skin.
Hoyeon himself was fair, but the boy’s complexion was so pallid it looked almost otherworldly.
“Why, it’s like a swan among crows!”
“Ah…”
At Hoyeon’s words, the boy tried to pull his sleeve down to hide his skin.
Hoyeon chuckled softly and spoke.
“It’s a compliment. You look like clouds—quite lovely, actually.”
…
“Anyway, who are you exactly?”
As Hoyeon plunked himself down beside the boy and asked, the boy returned a fist salute and introduced himself.
“Forgive my late introduction. I am the younger son of the Moyong Residence. My name is Moyong Ryul.”
At the boy’s—Moyong Ryul’s—words, Hoyeon scratched his disheveled hair.
He’d suspected as much from the chrysanthemum embroidered on the white martial robe he wore, but to think it was true.
“Ah, well. It’s my pleasure to meet you. I am Namgung Hoyeon.”
“…Please, treat me as casually as you did before. You’re my senior, after all.”
“Right, then.”
Hoyeon had belatedly started to mind his manners, but at Moyong Ryul’s words, he quickly reverted to his former ease.
‘A younger son of the family, then…’
Hoyeon picked up his chopsticks and snatched a piece of Undu-gwon from a nearby table.
The Undu-gwon had a white, soft exterior with a sweet, delicate filling—a proper tea pastry.
“Smack smack, this place does good work.”
“You enjoy the Undu-gwon?”
“I like sweet things as a rule.”
“Ah, then do try the Geumgyul Jeongwa as well. You don’t care for sour?”
As he spoke, Moyong Ryul swiftly retrieved a plate of Geumgyul Jeongwa from the side table and set it before Hoyeon.
Hoyeon shrugged and popped one into his mouth.
“Sour’s fine too. Smack smack, though this doesn’t quite match Pil’s tanghwa preserve.”
“Pil? A preserve?”
“He makes things like candied fruits. He’s planning to start a business with them, actually.”
“Wow…….”
At Hoyeon’s words, Moyong Ryul’s bright blue eyes sparkled as he gazed at him.
“I want to taste it too!”
“That’s only sold in Anhui—specifically in Hefei, at a place called Tangtangtang.”
“Anhui…… Hefei…… Tangtangtang…….”
Hoyeon watched as Moyong Ryul’s fingers twitched, as if committing the names to memory.
‘Ahyeon mentioned four candidates for the next family head. Of them, this Sa-gongja Moyong Ryul…….’
“As for the final candidate—there’s not even a one-in-ten-thousand chance Sa-gongja Moyong Ryul will become the next family head. It’s because he is the sole blemish on the current Moyong patriarch, Moyong Mujgyeol.”
Hoyeon recalled what Jegal Ahyeon had told him in the carriage.
‘An illegitimate child…… is that it?’
It was painfully obvious.
The Moyong patriarch Moyong Mujgyeol had spent a night with a woman from Arasa, and Moyong Ryul, born from that encounter, had become the family’s shame.
As a result, Moyong Ryul—with no maternal clan to speak of—had grown up without any family support whatsoever.
‘I heard they plan to strip him of his public title using this Baekga Geomhoe as a pretext. Or perhaps…….’
Hoyeon’s gaze grew distant as he studied Moyong Ryul.
Then.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Danli Sanyeol. Hehehehe.”
An unpleasant voice came from behind.
* * *
‘Namgung Hoyeon. The rumors were loud enough, but now you finally show your face.’
Danli Sanyeol regarded Hoyeon with that thought.
The Danli Clan had two famous organizations.
One was the Shilja Cheongeom Group, and the other was the Heukog Group.
Of these, the Heukog Group excelled at intelligence gathering and formation technique, earning recognition throughout the Murim as a renowned intelligence unit.
‘Already famous in Hefei, they say? And yet this wretch dares to be called Shenlong—absurd.’
Danli Sanyeol’s mouth twisted as he looked at Hoyeon.
The title Shenlong was not bestowed lightly.
It was an honor given only to promising late-stage cultivators destined to become absolute masters of the next generation.
Even a champion of the Yongbong Jihoe would struggle to earn the Shenlong title.
Yet this boy, not even of age, bears it?
‘And what else? Namgung’s successor? How is that even possible?’
Ever since the Namgung Clan had been pushed to the bottom of the Ten Great Families,
countless clans had been showing their fangs, eager to claim that vacant seat.
The Danli Clan was one of them.
More than fangs—the Danli Clan was sharpening its very claws.
‘The Namgung and the main branch are close enough to touch toe to nose. For now, Namgung has ruled Anhui, but that will change!’
The Danli Clan was located in Buyang County in Anhui Province—a powerful lineage that had enjoyed royal authority during the Tang-Song era.
Though they carried such noble blood, it grated that their standing in the Murim was always beneath the Namgung.
‘Let our main branch surpass Namgung and claim the position as one of the Ten Great Families, ruler of Anhui—the entire Murim will acknowledge it!’
Thus, Danli Sanyeol felt the need to shatter Namgung Hoyeon’s false reputation.
“That gray cat. I hear the young master stole it.”
“Garaetteok?”
“My word. Already given it a pet name? Tsk tsk, clearly still wet behind the ears. The cat’s owner is searching frantically for it—return it at once.”
As Danli Sanyeol spoke in stern, accusatory tones, the late-stage cultivators around them watched with keen interest.
‘What is this carrot-faced thing?’
Hoyeon gave the long-faced, carrot-shaped stranger who had suddenly appeared and started a quarrel a thorough once-over.
‘I delayed coming specifically because I didn’t want to see this sort of thing, but whether it’s three hundred years ago or now, fools remain fools.’
What might be called the law of fool conservation.
When one fool dies, another is born to fill the vacancy—such was the mysterious way of the world.
Wonsi Cheonjon.
“Didn’t you hear me? Return the cat to its owner at once and apologize!”
While Namgung Hoyeon wrestled with idle thoughts, Danli Sanyeol—believing he’d rattled the man—pressed forward with triumphant vigor.
“Wait, just a moment!”
In that instant, Moyong Ryul sprang to his feet, swept Garaetteok from Hoyeon’s shoulder, and cradled the cat against his chest.
“I—I’m the owner of this child. I’d only left her with Lord Namgung temporarily.”
“……What?”
Danli Sanyeol narrowed his eyes, studying Moyong Ryul with fresh interest.
A white martial robe embroidered with chrysanthemums—the symbol of direct descent from the Moyong Clan.
Hidden partly by wispy bangs, but there—a glint of blue.
A thin smile spread across his face.
Now he understood whom he was dealing with.
‘Foolish bastard. You should have announced your station from the start.’
The title of Sa-gongja within the Moyong Clan was both poison and shield to a bastard son.
If he couldn’t wield that advantage properly, he deserved a lesson in how the world worked.
Everything that happened now would merely be a simple mishap born of drink.
“How dare a lowborn servant insert himself here! This is no place for the likes of you!”
“Ah……!”
“The wine tastes foul now—get out! And cast down those filthy blue eyes!”
Under the force of Danli Sanyeol’s rebuke, Moyong Ryul’s already pallid complexion drained to ash.
“Ah, ah…….”
As he stumbled backward, something solid met his back.
His body stiffened, and he bowed apologetically.
“I—I’m sorry…….”
“You damn bastard.”
“……?!”
“……What?”
Moyong Ryul flinched at the harsh breath that scraped past his neck, while Danli Sanyeol stood momentarily baffled by the sudden curse.
“L-Lord Namgung!”
Moyong Ryul spun around quickly.
He wanted to stop Hoyeon from getting drawn into a quarrel on his account.
“……!”
But the moment he turned, he fell rigid and silent.
A deep hum filled the air.
Namgung Hoyeon’s eyes had transformed—burning with an azure light, bright as the open sky.
“You just dared insult the Changcheon of the Grand Namgung?”
“W-what are you talking about? When did I?”
“Just now. When you told me to cast down those blue eyes.”
“That’s absurd!”
Danli Sanyeol’s voice rose in protest.
He’d meant only to provoke and humiliate—never to slander a great house.
That had never been his intention.
Because……
“And now you’re challenging me to a Saengsa-gyeol? You’ve got nerve.”
“…….”
“Name your clan and yourself.”
At Hoyeon’s firm demand, Danli Sanyeol hesitated.
He hadn’t wanted the matter to escalate beyond a simple drinking-hall accident.
‘Damn it. I need to back off…….’
Danli Sanyeol was just beginning to bite his lip in preparation for an apology when—
Moyong Cheol, who had been watching the scene unfold, moved his lips silently and sent a Jeoneeum.
‘Sanyeol. Push forward.’
‘……What?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Or is it—do you lack confidence against that child?’
‘That’s not it!’
‘Crush that brat. Then you’ll be the hero of this Baekga Geomhoe. I’ll make you vanguard commander.’
At Moyong Cheol’s words, Danli Sanyeol’s eyes gleamed with sudden fervor.
A withered noble’s whip against the second son of the world’s supreme clan.
The outcome was predetermined.
“I am Danli Sanyeol, third son of the Danli Clan. I meant no disrespect, but if you took it as such, I cannot deny it.”
“What a shameless background, not knowing where you belong. Your upbringing has clearly been neglected.”
“W-what did you just say?!”
“As if I’m the one at fault here. You carrot of a creature.”
“I—I—!”
Danli Sanyeol’s face flushed crimson under the barrage of baseless insults.
Namgung Hoyeon, watching him, let out a soft laugh and muttered to himself.
“Ah, my mistake. Not a carrot—a radish.”
“…You dare insult the Danli Clan?”
“Playing the victim, are we? After you were the one running your mouth first?”
“How dare you!”
“Enough. If it bothers you, come at me. Since when do martial artists bicker like sparrows?”
Namgung Hoyeon smiled broadly, and fire kindled in Danli Sanyeol’s eyes.
“…You’ll regret this.”
“Not even if I’m reborn.”
“Draw your sword. As your elder, I shall grant you the first three moves.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Namgung Hoyeon’s smile widened at Danli Sanyeol’s words, as if amused.
“Care to make a wager?”
“A wager?”
“As a skilled fighter, I’ll grant you those three moves. And I’ll face you with this.”
Snap.
Namgung Hoyeon held up the chopsticks he’d been holding, and Danli Sanyeol’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, as if about to burst.
“If you can draw even a single scratch on me, you win.”
“This—!”
“But if you lose, you get this.”
Screech.
As Namgung Hoyeon drew the Cheonrae Sword, all eyes—including Danli Sanyeol’s—were fixed on its elegant form.
“Wow—!”
“A truly legendary blade!”
“Wait—is that the Cheonrae Sword?!”
“The Cheonrae Sword? That’s the treasured heirloom of the Namgung Clan! How does that treasure fall into this young master’s hands?”
Murmurs swelled among the disciples once they recognized the blade Namgung Hoyeon had drawn as the Cheonrae Sword.
“…The Cheonrae Sword?”
Danli Sanyeol, whose head had been burning hot with anger, felt as if he’d just splashed cold water on his face.
The Cheonrae Sword—it was a legendary divine blade, a treasured heirloom of the Namgung Clan.
In the Murim, it was widely known as a historic weapon: the beloved sword of the Sword Sage Changcheon three hundred years ago, the very blade that had slain the Sword Demon.
“Is that truly it?”
Danli Sanyeol asked with eyes full of avarice, and Namgung Hoyeon nodded.
“A man’s word is worth its weight in gold. What will you stake?”
“…I’ll wager this.”
Danli Sanyeol withdrew a short sword from his robe.
The blade had a crimson jade set at its hilt that gleamed with a deep red glow—at a glance, it was clearly a treasure of immense value.
“The Woryeong Danhong. One of the Danli Clan’s greatest treasures.”
“Well, stake whatever you like. I’m winning regardless.”
“…You did promise the first three moves.”
Click.
Danli Sanyeol lowered his stance, speaking as if to confirm.
He felt the piercing gazes of the disciples around him, but he ignored them.
‘Shame fades. Treasure lasts forever.’
Taking a handicap from a boy ten years his junior was an indignity—
But if the prize was the Cheonrae Sword, it was worth any humiliation.
“Heh heh, mustn’t forget the chopsticks either.”
“…Then I’ll begin.”
Whoosh.
Danli Sanyeol swept forward using the Biryu Sinbo, sliding toward Namgung Hoyeon in a fluid rush.
Namgung Hoyeon met him with a knowing smile, striking the chopsticks against the incoming blade.
Tap. Tap.
“Thank you for the meal.”

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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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