Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 54

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 54. The Sword Demon Scents the Conspiracy
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Ho Yeon was swinging the Heukyatae Sword in the Training Grounds.
The black blade caught the firelight, scattering it in brilliant, beautiful arcs.
“Oi! Move faster, will you?”
“Hngh!”
Whoosh-thud! Whoosh-thud!
Stung by the Heukyatae Sword’s taunt, Ho Yeon quickened his pace, though it still fell short of satisfactory.
“Hah—what have you been doing all this time, you sluggish thing?”
―You’re the weak one here!
“If I channeled Uigi Yeondong to supplement my strength, this would be better.”
Sheath-click!
Ho Yeon licked his lips and sheathed the Heukyatae Sword.
The blade was so heavy that merely returning it to its scabbard left him listing to one side.
‘I’ve grown used to the motions. Now it’s just a matter of refining it in real combat.’
The Heukyatae Sword was a beloved blade he’d wielded countless times before, but all those years had been spent in the body of the Sword Demon’s original vessel.
Adjusting to Namgung Ho Yeon’s frame required time.
“But Heukyatae, I wanted to ask you something.”
―What is it?
“What exactly is this Wangsang Yuksim everyone talks about? You know, don’t you?”
……
The Heukyatae Sword fell silent at his question.
“Heukyatae?”
―If I know it, then I know it. If I don’t, then I don’t.
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
―I know something of Mo Yong Sang Cheon’s Wangsang Yuksim. Yours? That I don’t know.
“My Wangsang Yuksim? I’m asking what Wangsang Yuksim is in the first place!”
Pressed for an answer, the Heukyatae Sword fell quiet once more before speaking in an unpleasant tone.
―I can’t tell you. Fool.
“What’s wrong with you?”
―I’d rather not watch a friend destroy himself.
“Destroy himself?”
When the Heukyatae Sword spoke with genuine gravity, Ho Yeon’s brow furrowed.
―I don’t know what Mo Yong Sang Cheon intended in teaching you about it, but it is both remedy and poison. Either way, excess is ruin.
“You forget the saying—the more the merrier? I’ll judge for myself what’s worth knowing. Just tell me.”
As Ho Yeon pressed further, the Cheonroe Sword, which had been quiet until now, let out a deliberate cough.
―Ahem. Young one. Don’t be so impatient.
“You know about this Wangsang Yuksim too, grandfather?”
―I do not. For three hundred years I hung on the wall of the main hall.
“Then why speak up if you don’t know?”
―Because you’re an idiot. Heukyatae keeps silent for your sake. You understand what happens when a mind is forced to grasp truths beyond its reach, don’t you?
“Demonic Intrusion would come.”
It was obvious.
The chasm between understanding and reality sickens both body and spirit, ultimately driving the victim to madness.
“So you’re saying this insight is beyond what I can handle? Me—the Sword Demon?”
Ho Yeon spoke as though the notion were absurd, but the Heukyatae Sword sighed and replied.
―Listen, Ho Yeon. Mo Yong Sang Cheon has never lied to you. At least, he has always shared with you what he himself believes to be true.
“Which means……”
―That the martial arts of the Central Plains have indeed advanced dramatically in your three-hundred-year absence, and that even in your prime, you couldn’t claim absolute supremacy without question.
…
As Ho Yeon fell silent, the Heukyatae Sword continued.
―And at the root of that change, Ho Yeon, was you.
“What?”
―The factions you wounded began their frantic research into Spirit Ability, that mysterious power.
“I’ve heard that. Even seen it with my own eyes.”
As Ho Yeon spoke, he recalled the mysterious sect that awakened Spirit Ability through an esoteric method called Ground Selection—a shortcut in pursuit of power.
But that was merely a expedient, not true advancement in Spirit Ability itself.
―Of course, they failed miserably. Uigi Yeondong was your unique Spirit Ability alone, and though similar powers emerged several times after, none matched your original.
“Then what?”
―Their research into Spirit itself bore no fruit. But in that very failure, a new school of martial philosophy was born by accident—the philosophy of Mind. That, Ho Yeon, is Wangsang Yuksim.
Namgung Ho Yeon found the Heukyatae Sword’s riddling words frustrating, but he pressed no further.
“Well, in any case. I can reach it too, right?”
―Of course! You can! In fact, the circumstances favor us. All those haphazard techniques you picked up here and there—now they’ve taken shape, organized under the Namgung school’s martial system!
“Haphazard…”
―Ha! That’s very like you! Whenever something caught your eye, you’d stitch it together and use it—that’s always been your gift!
“That’s precisely what talent is, then.”
While Ho Yeon set aside his curiosity about the Wangsang Yuksim and traded banter with the Heukyatae Sword, urgent footsteps erupted from without.
Clap! Clap-clap-clap!
Mo Yong Yul burst into the Training Grounds, one eye held shut.
“Brother!”
“What is it?”
“He’s made his move!”
“Oh? Already?”
At Mo Yong Yul’s cry, a sharp smile played across Ho Yeon’s lips.
* * *
Clap! Clap-clap-clap-clap!
A party of more than thirty men pressed through the dark night without torches, quickening their pace.
“Huff! Huff! Where… exactly… are we going?”
Baek Won Ui stumbled along at the rear of the column, struggling to keep up.
“Tsk. Keep quiet. This is covert travel.”
“Wheeze! Wheeze!”
At his father Baek Won Kwang’s sharp rebuke, Baek Won Ui sealed his lips and merely gasped for breath.
Even his dull senses picked up that something was different about his father’s mood.
There was a keenness to the tension, and perhaps even a whisper of dread.
‘What’s this? Father is wound this tight? And just south of Hapbi?’
They had departed Hapbi City and were now fleeing south.
The salt-tang of water brushed his nostrils, and Baek Won Ui could deduce their destination.
‘If we’re heading this way… it must be Sao Lake.’
Sao Lake earned its name for resembling a bird’s nest, but it was no modest body of water.
It boasted an area five times that of the vast Huangshan, a truly immense lake.
Enclosed by two cities and three counties, connected by dozens of tributaries, it was a great lake indeed.
Splash! Splash! Splash!
As Baek Won Ui had foreseen, the party reached Sao Lake and, crossing the muddy marshes, arrived at a small cove where boats lay waiting.
“Huff! Huff! A boat?”
“Usually used by the local fishermen. We’ve paid them to keep one at our disposal when needed.”
“Wheeze! But why would you do that? Isn’t that wasting money?”
“Well, observe and learn. Next time, you’ll be the one leading.”
“What?”
Baek Won Ui’s eyes widened, but rather than explain, Baek Won Kwang urged his men to launch the vessel.
Creak! Creak! Creak!
The sound of oars echoed across the water, and after some half hour had passed—
The boat drew up to a small island.
“Golden Fish Island. They say golden fish were once caught here, but now it’s an island no one visits.”
Clap! Clap!
Baek Won Ui descended from the boat behind his father, and the two walked forward together.
“This way.”
“A cave?”
The place Baek Won Kwang indicated was a cavern tall enough to walk through without stooping—
A natural limestone cave, worn by the eroding action of the lake waters.
Flicker! Flicker!
Torches burned at intervals along the cavern walls.
Some unknown visitor had plainly lit them beforehand.
Gulp!
Baek Won Ui was overwhelmed by the secretive atmosphere and found himself swallowing repeatedly.
As they ventured deeper into the cave, a sight burst upon him that made his eyes stand wide.
“Gasp!”
Hundreds of straw bundles rose in a great mountain throughout the cavern.
And before them stood some dozen figures, motionless as carved pillars, clad entirely in yellow robes with blank wooden masks fashioned from carved wood—a grotesque tableau.
“What… what is this?”
“Where is the proprietor?”
“…….”
Baek Won Kwang asked, but the men in cloth masks gave no response whatsoever.
“Tell them that Baek Won Kwang has arrived.”
“…….”
He spoke again, yet the masked men remained motionless as statues.
At their rudeness, Baek Won Ui furrowed his brow and shouted.
“Heavens, when someone calls, you should answer! Are you all deaf as stones?”
“Won Ui!”
Baek Won Kwang started at his son’s outburst and moved to silence him.
Just then, a thin, damp voice echoed from deeper within the cave.
“Hehehehe! A novice, is it? Head of Baekun.”
“Y-yes, Lord. My apologies. This is my son—his first day, you see.”
Slip.
A man emerged gliding from the darkness of the cave.
Like the others, he wore a yellow robe, but where they bore cloth masks, his face was covered by a silver one instead.
Click-click.
The eyes behind the silver mask moved with an eerie, predatory precision as they fixed upon Baek Won Ui.
The moment Baek Won Ui met that gaze, he felt his entire body stiffen as though turned to stone.
‘Is… is that even human?’
The eyes held the cold, reptilian gleam of something far less than man—something inhuman.
“Hehehehe! In that case.”
Tap.
The silver-masked man extended his arm and tore the cloth mask from a man standing beside him.
“Agh!”
At the sight of the exposed face, Baek Won Ui stumbled backward and felt convulsions seize his body.
For beneath the mask lay a visage hideously shrunken like a dried jujube, with a long, gaping wound carved horizontally across the throat.
“Hehe! As you can see, his vocal cords have been severed. I trust you understand.”
“Y-yes, of course. That is… unavoidable, I suppose.”
Baek Won Ui’s horror at the gruesome sight made him answer with uncharacteristic deference.
The silver-masked man nodded and turned his attention to Baek Won Kwang.
“It has been quite some time. I confess I thought you’d severed ties with us.”
“Ha, haha! What are you saying? Baekun Trading Company grew because of your help!”
“Hehe, your legitimate ventures haven’t been so smooth, have they? I heard you’ve taken up the silk trade.”
“Well enough to survive. One doesn’t turn down gold lying in the gutter.”
“True enough—gold is gold, after all.”
The silver-masked man chuckled at Baek Won Kwang’s words and nodded approvingly.
“Bring it.”
At his command, one of the cloth-masked men carried forward a burlap sack from the stack in the rear.
Thud!
“Take a look.”
“……where.”
Baek Won Kwang drew a small blade from his breast and split open the sack.
Rrrip!
Baek Won Ui, standing beside him, could see it was filled with white granules.
‘Could it be… surely not…?!’
Even as his eyes widened, Baek Won Kwang pinched a handful of white grains and tasted them.
“Mmm, excellent quality. Still at your finest, Yeom Bang.”
“Hehe! We pride ourselves on quality.”
“Ah, Father!”
The silver-masked man laughed as Baek Won Kwang nodded, while Baek Won Ui cried out in shock.
“Th-that’s salt, isn’t it?!”
Indeed, the white granules were salt.
Salt was far more than a mere condiment—it was an essential commodity, as vital to life as water and air itself.
The Imperial Court had instituted a monopoly system over salt, levying a salt tax upon it to fill the state coffers.
Though the official justification was national defense and rebellion prevention, as with iron, anyone with sense understood it was simply a matter of profit.
“Private salt trafficking carries the death penalty without exception!”
“I am aware.”
“Then how can you…!”
“Because it is profitable.”
Baek Won Kwang’s words drew a bitter laugh from the silver-masked man.
“Heh! Official Salt carries nearly twenty times the markup, but our operation takes just ten times over.”
Crackle.
The silver-masked man crumbled a handful of salt between his fingers as he spoke.
“The imperial court profits by trading in human lives, but we who distribute cheap salt through private channels—surely we serve the common people better?”
“Ah, Father.”
“Won Ui. Remember this.”
Baek Won Kwang gripped his son’s shoulder—the boy reeling from the revelation of the Baekun Trading Company’s true operation—and offered his counsel.
“To make money, you must bear risk. The greater the danger, the greater the profit that follows.”
……
“It’s time you stopped your foolishness and became a true man.”
……
Baek Won Ui stared blankly at his father, processing the words.
Days ago he’d been sprawled in a pleasure house with a courtesan on his arm. Now he’d been hurled into this harsh wilderness without warning.
Yet somehow it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
“How… how much money can be made?”
“Enough to rake in by the handful. Even marking up a mere ten percent above Yeom Bang’s price, tens of thousands of gold pieces change hands per transaction.”
……!
A fierce glint of greed ignited in Baek Won Ui’s eyes at his father’s words.
Tens of thousands of gold pieces in a single transaction—the scale was staggering.
And if he himself were the one moving that gold?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
In that instant, the faces of Namgung Sang-ah—who had rejected his advances—and Dang Se Ki—who had humiliated him—flashed through his mind.
“How… excellent.”
As Baek Won Ui’s lips curled into a smile, his father burst into delighted laughter.
“Ha-ha-ha! That’s my son! Any true Baek would have that kind of nerve!”
Seeing the sudden maturity in the boy he’d dismissed as a fool, Baek Won Kwang nodded with satisfaction.
“The Baekun Trading Company already has everything prepared.”
“We have the ships, after all.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Exactly! The transshipment operation changes only in merchandise—from silk to salt. Everything else proceeds identically.”
“Secrecy will be crucial. Can you vouch for the men you’ve brought along?”
“Of course. They’ve been doing this work for twenty years already.”
The silver-masked man, watching the father and son mirror each other’s ambition, let out a low, meaningful chuckle.
“Heh-heh-heh…”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————