Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 46

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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 46. The Sword Ghost Meets the Black Wilderness
“It is an honor to see you, Supreme Patriarch.”
Moyong Mujyeol, a neat middle-aged man with a well-groomed beard dressed in sharply tailored robes, bowed respectfully.
The figure he addressed as Supreme Patriarch—the head of the Moyong Clan—was a unique presence in the entire Central Plains.
“Hm-hm, my son. You needn’t be so formal.”
The white-haired elder, standing nearly seven feet tall, smiled at the corners of his weathered mouth as he looked down at Moyong Mujyeol.
Moyong Mujyeol straightened and met the gaze of Moyong Sangcheon, known as the Sword Emperor, before speaking.
“Then I shall speak more freely, taking this as a private conversation. The Commander General has been searching for you quite urgently.”
“I know. I shall return shortly—do not send word.”
“I’m afraid I’ve already sent it.”
“Tsk, tsk—betraying your own father, and skillfully at that.”
“The Baekyak Alliance’s main headquarters cannot afford to lack a leader.”
When Moyong Mujyeol countered without yielding an inch, Moyong Sangcheon clicked his tongue.
“Aye, tsk, tsk. They say raising children is pointless. And here my son goes, not bothering with filial piety, only scrambling to look after his own brood.”
…….
“You’ve assigned an escort to the youngest, haven’t you? Surely the Baekyak Sword Tournament forbids escorts?”
When Moyong Sangcheon raised his white brows in question, Moyong Mujyeol answered.
“It was not an escort, but surveillance. The youngest has proven… questionable in certain respects.”
“Hm-hm, a plausible excuse. Indulge an old man’s caution—you haven’t forgotten the clan’s founding principle, have you?”
Moyong Sangcheon’s eyes flashed, and Moyong Mujyeol felt a sudden pressure, as though someone had seized his heart in an iron grip.
“Endless Competition—through relentless striving, the chaff must be winnowed so that only the finest grain remains to sustain us through winter.”
“……I know it well. I sit in this seat having surpassed my elder and younger brothers.”
“Then why are you so lenient with the youngest?”
At Moyong Sangcheon’s question, Moyong Mujyeol fell silent, swallowing his true feelings.
‘Because he is the only child of the one woman I have ever loved.’
At his silence, Moyong Sangcheon clicked his tongue and spoke.
“What have you done with the Third’s wife?”
“I have confined her to the underground prison.”
“Is she complicit?”
“That is immaterial. Now that the Hundred Herb Villa is known to be the Demonic Sect, she will never see daylight again.”
At Moyong Mujyeol’s matter-of-fact words, Moyong Sangcheon let out a quiet laugh.
“Yet she is still a woman you shared flesh with for over twenty years. Isn’t your judgment rather harsh?”
“It was nothing more than a transactional arrangement. If she has nothing to offer me, then I have nothing to offer her.”
“Hm-hm-hm, beautifully twisted. You are truly of the Moyong line.”
Moyong Sangcheon nodded with evident satisfaction.
“We of the Moyong possess a peculiar nature—when fixed upon something, we obsess over it with fanaticism. This can become the engine of our ascent… or the very road to our ruin.”
“I shall keep it close to my heart.”
“Have you decided on a Junior Head?”
“……Not yet.”
“Well, decide as you see fit. I won’t meddle in such trifles.”
Moyong Sangcheon stroked his chin and continued with a sly smile.
“Though there is one thing I find myself wanting.”
“What would that be?”
“To take on a disciple.”
“A disciple……? Who could that possibly be?”
Moyong Mujyeol asked with clear bewilderment, and Moyong Sangcheon licked his lips, speaking each syllable with deliberate precision.
“Namgung Hoyeon.”
* * *
The Baekyak Sword Tournament had ended.
All the Participated Contestants had returned to Yao Ning, and while awaiting the champion announcement, they were either strengthening connections or taking rest.
“Sigh—Sanggwan, must we really go to such lengths?”
Hoyeon fussed as he adjusted his stiffly pressed blue martial robes.
The starch-stiffened cloth rustled with every movement, and above all, the fit was extraordinarily uncomfortable.
To this, Sanggwan Hae responded with a generous smile and a hearty laugh.
“Ha-ha, young Namgung. Didn’t you say your aim was to gain renown?”
“I did.”
“Fame doesn’t spring forth all at once, you see. It requires patient, steady effort.”
“Mm…….”
‘In the old days, I’d build a reputation just by cutting down anyone who got in my way. Though—was that notoriety rather than fame?’
As Hoyeon wore an expression of displeasure, Jegal Ahyeon combed through his disheveled hair and spoke.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
“Hoyeon, your brother Sanggwan is right. The Participated Contestants saw your exploits with their own eyes, but their mouths number only a hundred at most.”
“That’s right, big brother! There’s even a saying that the brush tip overcomes the blade!”
Tap!
Just then, Moyong Yul came rushing over with a plate of candied citrus and wedged himself between Jegal Ahyeon and Hoyeon.
“The brush tip overcomes the blade? What nonsense is that? That brush would have to be the Judge’s Brush itself. Tch.”
“Hehe, I suppose so.”
As Hoyeon reached for the candied citrus and habitually patted Moyong Yul’s head, the boy grinned and played along.
Watching this, Jegal Ahyeon let out a soft laugh, then reached out with delicate fingers toward the corner of Hoyeon’s mouth.
“Hoyeon, the guests will be arriving soon. This is sloppy of you.”
“Hmm? Oh. Thank you.”
As Jegal Ahyeon carefully wiped the honey from the corner of Hoyeon’s mouth, sparks flickered in Moyong Yul’s blue eyes.
“Hehehehe.”
……
Jegal Ahyeon smiled at leisure, while Moyong Yul clenched both fists, his expression that of a child whose beloved toy had been stolen.
Dang Seggi, watching them from one corner of the room, tilted his head.
“What is that?”
“Meow!”
“And what are you?”
“Meww?”
As Dang Seggi shifted his gaze, he glimpsed Weol Myo with a red rat perched atop her head, her tail swishing gently.
‘A rat riding a cat? Is there anything normal about this place at all?’
A master of poison and exotic beasts, a direct-line member of the Sichuan Dang Clan—Dang Seggi had never been bested for his eccentricity wherever he went. Yet recently, he was coming to grasp the limits of his own abnormality with painful clarity.
Was I truly ever a normal person?
“Ah, they seem to have arrived!”
At that moment, hearing sounds of people outside, Sanggwan Hae sprang to his feet and rushed to greet them.
“Ahem, ahem.”
“Are you here?”
“Hahaha, the young hero of the Namgung Clan. One looks forward to this.”
“Haha, I am honored to receive the literary masters of Yao Ning. You may have high expectations. Come, the hero who subdued the Demonic Sect! Allow me to introduce Master Namgung Hoyeon!”
Sanggwan Hae arrived with a dozen or so men dressed in formal scholar robes and introduced them to Hoyeon.
They were all poets and literati of Yao Ning City who had passed the regional examination.
‘Tch, dealing with ink-stained people isn’t really my taste, but it can’t be helped.’
Hoyeon rose from his seat and offered a respectful fist salute with composed bearing.
“I am Namgung Hoyeon. I am delighted to meet such learned and respected scholars.”
“Ooh!”
“What humility without compare!”
“My, is this truly the young hero who subdued the Demonic Sect? He appears far younger than I imagined!”
“Handsome brows as fierce as a tiger’s, a long nose bridge noble as a phoenix, and thick eyebrows like a dragon’s whiskers!”
Whatever his true thoughts.
Hoyeon’s appearance was striking enough to make even a passing deer turn its head.
And such beauty found eager purchase among poets and literati who cherished aesthetic refinement.
‘Hehe, young brother Hoyeon. Grow tall and swift. Your rising fame brings this elder brother great joy!’
Sanggwan Hae, who had marshaled all his wealth and connections to bring Yao Ning’s intellectuals here, smiled with meaningful intent.
Through the Baekyak Sword Tournament, he had witnessed the moment a sleeping dragon stirred and stretched.
Now that he had befriended a dragon poised on the verge of ascension, surely it would not shake him from its back.
‘May we walk together forever!’
Sanggwan Hae congratulated himself on the tremendous success of his gamble.
* * *
Sword Cloud Pavilion.
The final event was underway as the Baekyak Sword Tournament drew to a close.
It was the announcement of the winning team according to the Merit Review and Reward system, and the selection of the most outstanding Participated Contestant.
“How do you think it will turn out?”
“Surely it will be either Team One or Team Two, no?”
“Well, that seems most likely. I heard Team Three even faced confrontation interrogation by the Investigation Team.”
“What a shame. Ordinarily, the Team Five leader would have been selected as the Baekyak One Sword. But alas, he violated the rules…….”
Everyone gathered in Sword Cloud Pavilion glanced toward one spot.
There sat Team Four leader Moyong Yul, Team Five leader Namgung Hoyeon, along with Sanggwan Hae and Dang Seggi.
Jegal Ahyeon sat beside Team Two leader Moyong Cheol, yet her gaze remained fixed on Hoyeon.
“……Word has come from the Supreme Patriarch. He says your betrothal to him is hereby dissolved.”
Moyong Cheol watched her with a soft murmur.
Jegal Ahyeon glanced at him sidelong, her dark eyes measuring, and nodded.
“Young Master Moyong will surely take a wife far more refined and accomplished than a woman like me.”
“Heh heh heh.”
At her words, Moyong Cheol’s mouth twisted into a smile.
His pride was wounded deeply, but he was not foolish enough to let it show in word or deed.
“It seems I never had a chance to begin with. Still, I understand your meaning well enough. I only hope you won’t regret this later.”
“I don’t think that will happen. I wish good fortune upon your future, Young Master.”
With that exchange, conversation between Moyong Cheol and Jegal Ahyeon ended.
“Brother, this isn’t fair.”
“What isn’t?”
At Namgung Hoyeon’s question, Moyong Yul burst forth with aggrieved words.
“There’s no one in this entire Baekyak Sword Tournament who’s accomplished as much as you have! The title of Baekyak One Sword should rightfully be yours!”
“Meow!”
“Chirp!”
Weol Myo, nestled in Moyong Yul’s arms, cried out in agreement, and Jeok Seo, cradled in Weol Myo’s embrace, chimed in as well.
At that, Namgung Hoyeon let out a soft laugh and spoke.
“It’s fine. I already have everything I wanted from this.”
“Hah, of course. The literati’s response has been splendid. They’ll compose poetry and paint to celebrate your righteousness.”
Sanggwan Hae agreed with Namgung Hoyeon, and Dang Seggi nodded as he added his words.
“The emergence of the Heavenly Thunder Sovereign Divine Art for the first time in three hundred years is a monumental event worthy of everyone’s attention. And to have cleaved Baekyak Mountain Manor’s Master in two—well, that says everything.”
“That foolish fellow wasn’t a supreme master, though.”
“Does that matter? What matters is that you, barely past Foundation Establishment, manifested Sword Silk. How on earth did you manage it?”
Dang Seggi fixed Namgung Hoyeon with an intense, curious gaze.
Sword Silk was a technique as symbolic as the mark of a warrior who’d reached the absolute pinnacle of mastery.
Throughout all of history, no martial master had reached such heights at the age of sixteen.
“Well, you know. More or less a shortcut…….”
Namgung Hoyeon avoided Dang Seggi’s piercing stare, mumbling awkwardly.
‘Hmm, I just made it convincing enough with the Hundred Blade Body Refinement and Righteous Aura Flame Movement, really nothing special…….’
Namgung Hoyeon truly believed that.
If asked to manifest Sword Silk right now, it would be impossible.
“A shortcut, you say?”
“Hah, don’t press a genius on such matters, Seggi. You’ll only lose by asking. They’re called geniuses precisely because such things come to them instinctively.”
“That’s right! Brother is truly the greatest prodigy in all of history!”
As Dang Seggi muttered in exasperation, Sanggwan Hae and Moyong Yul spoke in a tone that said one should accept rather than understand.
It was just as the interior of Sword Cloud Pavilion had grown lively with speculation about the champion bracket and idle chatter.
“May I have your attention, everyone!”
The bracket master Moyong Hu infused his voice with inner force, and all eyes of the Participated Contestants fixed upon him.
Moyong Hu, having obtained their attention, continued.
“Traditionally, the announcement of the champion bracket and the Baekyak One Sword is made directly by the host clan’s Head, but as my father is currently occupied, we have brought a representative in his stead.”
“As expected—he must be frantically busy dealing with the aftermath of the Baekyak Mountain Manor incident.”
“Ah, what a pity. I had dearly hoped to meet the renowned Great Swordmaster Bright Light, a supreme master of such renown…….”
“It can’t be helped.”
At Moyong Hu’s words, a wave of regretful sighs rippled through the Participated Contestants.
Moyong Hu, observing them, continued with a meaningful smile.
“Then allow me to present our representative. My grandfather, and the Supreme Patriarch of the main Moyong household.”
“Gasp……!”
“What, what did you say?!”
“The Supreme Patriarch of the Moyong Clan?!”
“The Sword Sovereign, Moyong Sangcheon!”
“Good heavens, you mean the Alliance Lord himself is here?”
The Participated Contestants raised their voices in disbelief.
Tap, tap, tap.
Amid the commotion, footsteps rang out clearly as they approached Sword Cloud Pavilion.
Creak!
The doors of Sword Cloud Pavilion opened, and an elderly man with white hair and a black longsword at his waist stepped into view.
Though he bore a gentle smile, an inexplicable aura of pressure emanated from his stern, weathered face.
“Heh heh, seeing the promising talents of the martial world’s hundred schools makes this old man feel as though he’s growing young again.”
The Sword Sovereign, Moyong Sangcheon, offered his words warmly.
The Participated Contestants gazed upon Moyong Sangcheon with eyes full of astonishment, admiration, and reverence.
“Grandfather!”
“Supreme Patriarch, this way…….”
Moyong Cheol, who hadn’t heard the news, jolted up from his seat in alarm, while Moyong Hu rushed forward to usher him to the place of honor.
Step, step, step.
But from the moment Moyong Sangcheon entered Sword Cloud Pavilion, his gaze had fixed on a single figure.
His footsteps carried him not toward his grandsons, but toward Hoyeon.
Snap.
Arriving finally before Hoyeon, Moyong Sangcheon looked down at him with eyes gleaming like glass beads and asked softly.
“Heh heh, so you’re the grandson of Jang Hak, the boy named Hoyeon?”
“…….”
Though Moyong Sangcheon spoke to him with the same warmth he might show his own grandchild, Hoyeon’s gaze was fixed on the older man’s waist.
The long sword, nearly four feet in blade length, lay sheathed in a scabbard coated with glossy black lacquer.
The hilt, wrapped in gold thread, was long enough to accommodate four fists, and both the solid bronze guard and the demon-faced pommel ornament inlaid with gold were striking.
When drawn from the scabbard, the blade would reveal a mysterious black steel that flowed with elegant grace in the Dong Ying style, its blood groove tracing a distinctive wave pattern.
How did he know?
‘That’s mine.’
The Black Wilderness Great Sword.
It was one of the Sword Ghost’s collection pieces, obtained three centuries ago after slaying the pirate captain who had ravaged Zhejiang Province.

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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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