Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 75

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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 75. The Sword Demon Journeys to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering
North of Dongting Lake lay the province known as Hubei, also called the Land of a Thousand Lakes.
A province blessed with a thousand waterways.
Thanks to this abundance, fishing and agriculture flourished so richly that it earned the name Land of Fish and Rice.
During the age of Three Kingdoms, it served as the heart of Jingzhou—a strategic stronghold so vital that Zhuge Liang himself deemed it essential for anyone seeking to rule all under Heaven through the Strategy of Three Kingdoms.
Among its cities stood Wuhan.
At the confluence of the Yangtze and Han rivers, it served as the hub of waterborne commerce, an inland port so crucial to transport that it earned the name Gateway of Nine Provinces—the crossroads connecting nine provinces into one.
There dwelt the Jegal Clan, known as the Divine Strategists.
Renowned for their mechanical devices and formation arrays, they had perfected defensive warfare to such a degree that it was said Hubei Province might be conquered, but never the Jegal Clan.
“Father calls for you.”
Beyond the pristine white walls and the aged black tiles, a man’s voice emerged—carrying barely concealed displeasure.
He was a man in his mid-thirties, his mouth hidden behind a Baekwoo Fan.
Even from his piercing gaze alone, one could see his mood had soured.
“Go to Henan.”
“Yes.”
“Is this because of the Yongbong Gathering?”
“It appears so.”
“And stay away from the Military Division.”
“I shall endeavor to.”
The woman who softly parried his cutting remarks was an exotic beauty with chestnut eyes and an elegant frame.
‘……I cannot trust her.’
Jegal Heonmyeong, heir to the Jegal Clan, regarded the woman with eyes full of suspicion.
A woman in the flower of her youth—barely twenty years old.
Had she truly ascended to the Peak Realm at such a young age?
He himself had never neglected his martial training, yet he only reached this height after passing thirty.
This woman had cleared that barrier as effortlessly as leaping over a garden wall.
‘She harbors ambitions. In just two years, she has secured the absolute backing of the outer court and won over three elders. And now, to be summoned by Father himself……’
In Jegal Heonmyeong’s gaze toward his fifteen-years-younger sister lay a thick wariness.
Their father, Jegal Sinsan, was a man who kept no one at his side without ability, blood relation or not.
What scheme had this woman devised to transform herself from nothing two years ago into what she was now?
‘The All-Knowing Mysterious Woman? Ha!’
A mysterious woman who understands the hearts of all.
She gives money to those who need it, honor to those who seek it, and truth to those who hunger for it.
All who had met her and spoken with her praised Jegal Ahyeon’s gift for employing people as reaching toward the heavens themselves.
‘Why does she gather people like that? Surely she’s not after my position?’
At that very moment, Jegal Heonmyeong’s brow furrowed.
“No.”
“……What, what?”
“I said no.”
Jegal Ahyeon smiled brightly, her clear chestnut eyes meeting his.
‘This unsettling foreign woman!’
Beneath the Baekwoo Fan, Jegal Heonmyeong’s lips twisted into an ugly sneer.
This was why he had wanted to avoid meeting her.
That presumptuous air of seeing through everything rankled him.
“And do not rashly draw attention to yourself and shame the clan’s name.”
“I shall remember.”
“Hmph. Go.”
“Stay well, brother.”
Tap, tap, tap.
As she emerged from Weidi Yuan, those around her stole glances at her departure.
In her white silken robes and with raven-black hair streaming behind her, she cut a figure so ethereal it seemed unreal.
“Miss.”
Then a middle-aged man in a crimson martial robe approached and bowed to Jegal Ahyeon.
“The Fengchu Squad stands ready to deploy.”
“We set out at once.”
“At last it begins.”
Yang Deokjo, commander of the Fengchu Squad, spoke with barely contained excitement at her order to march.
“Surely the Patriarch called you to Henan to test your abilities through the Military Division.”
“Perhaps. It may simply be because of the Yongbong Gathering.”
“Yet you know better than anyone that this is not the case.”
“Hehehehe.”
As Jegal Ahyeon laughed, the world around her brightened as though ten thousand flowers had bloomed all at once.
“We shall have to see who tests whom, won’t we?”
At Jegal Ahyeon’s meaningful words, Yang Deokjo clenched his fist and spoke.
“Once you earn the title of Phoenix, Miss, and demonstrate your worth in the military council, you’ll be able to command the Baekga Maeng. If that comes to pass—”
“Then I’ll have a hundred arms.”
Pat, pat, pat.
Jegal Ahyeon shifted her steps, swallowing the rest of her words inwardly.
‘With those arms, there is someone I must protect.’
Whoooosh.
The moment Jegal Ahyeon thought of someone, her Upper Dantian began to burn hot.
‘Two years of running without pause. You must have been just as busy, haven’t you?’
Namgung Ho Yeon.
Her betrothed.
The light of her soul.
‘Still, not a single letter? That’s rather cruel of you. How thoughtless.’
Yet despite her grumbling thoughts, Jegal Ahyeon’s lips curved into a beautiful arc of anticipation at the thought of meeting Namgung Ho Yeon again.
Yang Deokjo read it as the smile of an ambitious woman who had seized her opportunity, but her true heart was entirely different.
‘I want to see him soon.’
* * *
“My child, there are so many carriages in Zhengzhou—you must be careful.”
“…”
“The Yongbong Gathering. In the end, it’s nothing so special. Just do your best without getting hurt.”
“…”
“And do make some friends. You’re far too fond of being alone, aren’t you? Honestly, we’ve honey-lined your room, yet your mother still worries endlessly. Have you considered opening up a bit?”
Some fifty people stood waiting at the main gate of the Namgung Clan.
They were carefully selected Later Generation Disciples from the Namgung Clan, including members of Changgung Squad’s Seventh and Eighth units.
They had been bustling about since morning, eager to depart for the Yongbong Gathering being held in Henan, yet their departure continued to be delayed.
Still, not a hint of irritation crossed the faces of the Later Generation Disciples—only smiles.
“Yes, yes, I understand. I’ll see to it myself.”
“My child, let mother comb your hair just once more.”
“No! Besides, I’m already eighteen—why do you still call me a child?”
“To your mother, you’ll be a child for life.”
Peng Sohwa held the reluctant Ho Yeon fast and began combing out her tousled hair.
Ho Yeon shook her head back and forth like a stubborn kitten, yet she could not bring herself to brush away her mother’s touch.
—Foolish child, understand the hearts of parents who grieve at parting.
—Pffft! Mother, listen to this. You need to develop your social skills. Or you’ll spend your whole life with no friends but me.

As Ho Yeon listened to the words of Cheonroe Geom and Heukya Tae Geom, she grumbled under her breath.
‘When will they stop treating me like a child? Can’t they see these strong muscles?’
Ho Yeon flexed her pectoral muscles slyly, visible through the loose gaps of her martial robe.
At that, Peng Sohwa let out a long sigh and adjusted Ho Yeon’s clothes.
“My child, please wear clothing that actually fits you.”
“But this is comfortable.”
“You need to look presentable wherever you go. Like this, it reflects poorly on your mother.”
“Then I shall correct that person’s gossiping ways.”
“Oh, they say no parent can overcome their child…”
Peng Sohwa gave up, tidying Ho Yeon’s loosened martial robe and tying it snugly.
“Ha, madam, perhaps we should stop here. At this rate, the sun will set.”
“But…”
“Ho Yeon isn’t traveling alone, and more importantly, the Third Elder will be accompanying them. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Namgung Baek looked toward the stern-faced bald elder standing at the front of the group with his arms crossed.
His arms, crossed as they were, were thick as a woman’s thigh—this was Namgung Muwon, Third Elder of the Elder Council.
He was a supreme master who had volunteered to lead this year’s Yongbong Gathering.
‘The Third Elder is called the Martial Madman, so obsessed with training that he lives for nothing else. He’s hardly the type to take on such tiresome duties.’
Namgung Baek smiled knowingly, watching Ho Yeon.
It was the existence of the youngest son, Ho Yeon, that had moved the Third Elder’s weighty frame.
Namgung Muwon was, along with Patriarch Namgung Sangbo, one of Ho Yeon’s most fervent admirers.
‘In any case, I’m relieved the Third Elder will accompany them. And…’
Namgung Baek watched his eldest son, who had recently emerged from the meditation chamber.
“Cheonggang.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Give it everything you have.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t lower your guard. The talents gathering there are the finest among all the martial artists in this Nine Provinces realm.”
At his father’s counsel, Namgung Cheonggang let out a soft laugh and asked.
“Even more than Ho Yeon?”
“……Well, perhaps not quite that far.”
“Then I’m confident.”
Snap!
Namgung Cheonggang clasped his fists to his father in salute and spoke.
“As an unworthy son of the Namgung, I shall return having elevated our clan’s name.”
“Ha! That’s my boy. Your father trusts you and will wait.”
The solid presence of his capable eldest son washed away the lingering unease in Namgung Baek’s heart.
Though Ho Yeon’s talent was beyond question, his father harbored private worries about where that wild brilliance might lead.
‘Surely nothing will go wrong.’
And several months later, Namgung Baek would come to realize how naive his hopes had been.
* * *
Clop-clop! Clop-clop!
Rumble-rumble-rumble!
The company departed from the Namgung Clan and traveled northward at an easy pace.
Since Henan lay directly north of Anhui, there was no need to hurry.
“Zhengzhou has developed so much, they say?”
“Of course. Isn’t the Muwrim Alliance and Baekga Maeng dividing it between them?”
“I’ve heard people call Kaifeng and Luoyang along with it the Three Cities of Henan.”
“By now, the inns in Zhengzhou must be bursting. People from each province are pouring in like clouds to see the Yongbong Gathering.”
The Later Generation Disciples were brimming with excitement at the prospect of leaving the clan and attending the Yongbong Gathering.
“There will be plenty of beautiful young ladies there too, won’t there?”
“Ha-ha-ha! Look at this rascal. He’s more interested in the catch than the hunting!”
“Ha, then you’re out.”
“What?”
“I’m gathering just four of you for a tea gathering. What you might call a Lightning Meeting.”
“You devil! Please include me too!”
Clunk!
Just as the lively chatter was in full swing, the carriage window swung open and the Third Elder, Namgung Muwon, poked his head out and offered a single curt remark.
“From now on, I’ll take any noise-making as a challenge to spar with me.”
Silence fell.
Namgung Muwon nodded once and drew his head back into the carriage, continuing his questioning.
“So then, wouldn’t you say the Second Form, Gangcheol Chwihon, connects to the Buddhist concept of Emptiness? The physical act of steel plunging down affecting the opponent’s very soul would represent the non-duality of matter and spirit, yes?”
“…….”
“Then the Third Form, Cheolbyeok Jinse, might well reflect Daoist principles of the unity of Heaven and Man. When an individual’s actions influence the world, it must mean that humanity and the universe are one!”
“…….”
“And what of Jungyap Cheolyeong? Ah-ha! The concept of karma itself! The heavy crushing pressure upon the steel’s spirit represents how action shapes essence!”
‘Stop, you bald eagle.’
Ho Yeon watched the incessant Namgung Muwon beside him with a look of utter exasperation.
The lean, muscular old man with his eyes sparkling bright as a young girl’s, chattering away endlessly, possessed something vaguely unsettling about him.
“Ha-ha-ha! The Third Elder’s passion for martial philosophy is truly formidable.”
Namgung Cheonggang burst into laughter at the sight of Namgung Muwon.
“Ahem, have you not seen those books displayed in the Changggyeong Pavilion?”
“I have. The existing sword techniques have become far more practical.”
“Practicality isn’t always superior, but it’s true that the survival rate of those leaving the Tiger Squad has risen dramatically.”
Namgung Muwon fixed Ho Yeon with an intent gaze and asked.
“How could one so young attain such insight? What does our Shin Yong believe martial arts to be?”
To the philosophical question posed by Namgung Muwon, Ho Yeon shrugged and offered a pragmatic answer.
“What’s there to it? You learn martial arts by thrashing about trying to stay alive.”
“Huh…….”
Struck by Ho Yeon’s words, Namgung Muwon nodded thoughtfully and murmured as if enlightened.
“I see. Martial arts arose from the act of defending oneself against savage beasts. The history of martial arts is the history of man! And the history of man was the history of survival!”
‘Crazy bald eagle.’
Ho Yeon turned away from Namgung Muwon, who had resumed muttering to himself.
At the clan, evading this bald eagle had become a full-time occupation.
He appeared without warning, squawking away like that, driving everyone to distraction.
“Soon I’ll see Sanga. I wonder how much she’s grown?”
“You’re the same as ever. Except for that wandering streak that’s taken hold.”
At Namgung Cheonggang’s murmur, Ho Yeon quickly seized the opening to redirect Namgung Muwon’s attention.
“Ever since joining the Biryeon Squad, she’s developed a taste for Tiger Squad missions?”
“Hah—a true woman of formidable spirit.”
“We’ll meet in Zhengzhou in a few days. She said she was coming down from Hebei… wait.”
Ho Yeon’s brow furrowed as he spoke.
Namgung Muwon’s eyes sharpened in turn, and he murmured softly,
“We have a visitor.”

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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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