Namgoong the Sword Ghost - Chapter 8
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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 8. The Sword Demon Takes His Stand
“You want me to teach you the Changung Daeyeon Divine Art? Master of the trading company! Are you in your right mind?!”
Namgung Baek’s voice crackled with fury.
But the man seated across from him—stout-shouldered, middle-aged—remained unmoved.
Baek Won-gwang, master of the Baekun Trading Company, merely tilted his teacup with perfect composure.
Slurp.
“Hah, why such alarm? You said to name what I wanted, so I merely obliged.”
“You……!”
“A jest, I assure you.”
Baek Won-gwang’s smile faded as quickly as it had bloomed, and his expression hardened once more.
“Though not entirely. Without demands of this magnitude, I see no way to recover the debt.”
……
“Three hundred thousand taels of gold is no trifle, after all. How else do you intend to repay that promissory note?”
At Baek Won-gwang’s words, Namgung Baek’s jaw clenched.
‘This ungrateful wretch……!’
The Baekun Trading Company had originally grown through the patronage of the Namgung Clan.
Even its name spoke to this—Baekun, the white clouds.
Once, it had rested in the bosom of the Namgung Clan like clouds drifting through the Azure Heaven.
But after the calamity a century past, as the clan’s fortunes waned, the company had pursued independence.
From that point onward, the Baekun Trading Company had grown wealthy through silk brokerage and trade.
‘The main house has issued promissory notes only to allies of long standing. That they would betray us now……’
As the clan’s circumstances grew dire, his predecessor and he himself had borrowed funds from various sources.
The Baekun Trading Company had been one such creditor.
Martial cultivators were creatures that fed on gold and silver to grow strong.
The clothes they wore, the swords they carried, the food and tonics they consumed, even the time they spent in cultivation—all of it demanded coin.
Only recently had their investments begun to bear fruit, and they had undertaken new ventures……
“Hah, surely you don’t mean to repay this with the money exchange business you’re preparing? How naïve.”
……
As Baek Won-gwang spoke with the air of one who knew everything, Namgung Baek’s eyes narrowed to slits.
His gaze turned razor-sharp.
‘Is it possible……?’
The promissory notes the Baekun Trading Company originally held were manageable—the clan could have paid them.
But they had somehow orchestrated something.
They had scraped together every promissory note issued to others and were now demanding immediate settlement.
‘If the main house recovers its fortunes, we can repay easily. Yet he refuses to wait? What does he truly want?’
As Namgung Baek sank into thought,
Baek Won-gwang smiled and spoke once more.
“Hmm…… though there is a method of settlement, perhaps…….”
“A method?”
“The Namgung Clan must sell its agricultural lands.”
“……What did you say?”
As Namgung Baek’s brow furrowed, Baek Won-gwang, who had been regarding him with loaded significance, continued.
“We shall purchase the northern lands. Those fields between Dongpo Lake and Daebang Lake.”
“……!”
At Baek Won-gwang’s words, Namgung Baek’s eyes flew wide.
‘So he had been after those lands all along……!’
North of Hapbi stood two enormous lakes.
Dongpo Lake and Daebang Lake.
The lands surrounding them had long been famed for their richness, their harvests abundant.
Yet the fields between the two lakes were said to yield crops even in years of drought, and were thus known as Abundant Land Without Hardship.
Fertile soil that knew no famine.
For this reason, those fields had been a principal source of the clan’s steady annual income.
“……Master of the company. Those lands are worth more than three hundred thousand taels of gold.”
“Are they? Then by all means, sell them for more and repay me the three hundred thousand. Problem solved.”
……
Even as Namgung Baek spoke, Baek Won-gwang continued to smile.
‘This scheming devil……!’
Did he think land was candy sold in a market stall?
Finding a buyer who recognized its true value, collecting payment—such things took years.
And how many could advance three hundred thousand taels of gold in one lump sum?
“Heh-heh-heh, if you can’t manage it by the deadline, I’ll be taking those agricultural lands instead.”
Scrape.
Baek Won-gwang rose from his seat and left the reception hall.
Neither man felt the need for formalities.
Step, step, step.
“Puh-huh-huh! The master has no choice. There’s nothing he can do about it.”
Baek Won-gwang walked down the corridor, unable to suppress the laughter bubbling up from his chest.
The great Namgung Clan—crumbling under three hundred thousand taels of gold.
What could be more exquisite?
“Without those lands, Namgung won’t last ten years. They’ll grow more and more dependent on us.”
Baek Won-gwang murmured to himself, a satisfied smile playing across his lips.
“And once I marry their daughter to Won-ui, everything the Namgung Clan possesses becomes property of the Baekun Trading Company. Should I start calling it the Baekun Clan then? Aha-ha-ha!”
The mere thought sent Baek Won-gwang into uncontrollable laughter.
In his joy, he failed to notice the pair of eyes watching him quietly from the gap between the doors.
* * *
“Sigh… there’s no other way, is there….”
Namgung Baek exhaled deeply.
The sun was already hanging low on the western hills.
He’d spent the entire day thinking, but selling the agricultural lands seemed the only option left.
He’d already exhausted every available source of credit.
“… I have no face to show my ancestors.”
To sell the ancestral lands passed down through generations.
This disgrace would be recorded forever in the Changung Records as his eternal blemish.
As Namgung Baek muttered this bitter thought, a welcome voice came from outside.
“Father, it’s Ho-yeon.”
At the sound of his youngest son’s voice, Namgung Baek brightened his expression and spoke warmly.
“Ah! Ho-yeon has come? Enter, enter!”
Scrape.
At his father’s words, Ho-yeon entered the reception hall.
He gazed silently at Namgung Baek, who wore a smile, then produced several books from his robe and handed them over.
“They’re here.”
“Hm? What is this….”
“I’ve written down the Changung Muae Swordsmanship, Cheonpung Swordsmanship, Daeyeon Swordsmanship, Ten Forms of Iron Sword, and others.”
“…!”
At Ho-yeon’s words, Namgung Baek’s eyebrows twitched.
These were indeed the names of swordsmanship styles that had existed in the clan.
But in the words of his youngest son, a Sword Heart Resonance talent, there lay a deeper meaning.
“Is this… the true swordsmanship of our house?”
As Namgung Baek reached out trembling hands to accept the books, Ho-yeon shook his head and replied.
“Still insufficient. The techniques varied slightly by era. I wish to examine more swords.”
“Ah…!”
Though Ho-yeon spoke of insufficiency, Namgung Baek’s eyes moved rapidly across the pages, still wet with fresh ink, as he sank into emotion.
The forms and postures might seem similar, but the martial principles and interpretations within them were all different.
Most of all, there were annotations written in fine script beside every line—tiny and dense as sesame seeds.
These were nothing less than the lost years and experience of Namgung itself.
“Ha-ha, ha-ha-ha!”
Namgung Baek felt as though a weight pressing on his mind had suddenly lifted.
Watching Ho-yeon’s expressionless face, Namgung Baek spoke inwardly.
‘Heaven’s Test—so Heaven put our clan through such trials only to grant us such blessing!’
Yes.
What are a few acres of earth?
What does it matter if they’re lost?
When such a brilliant future for Namgung stands before my eyes.
‘Our clan is a martial family. We shall rise again through the Martial Way that no one can deny!’
And this child.
This child, named Ho-yeon in the hope that he would carry the Vast Righteous Qi from birth.
Would restore Azure Heaven to Namgung.
Crack!
“Well done! Excellently done! Truly my son!”
“….”
Namgung Baek pulled Ho-yeon into a tight embrace, eyes glistening with emotion.
But held in that embrace, Ho-yeon’s chest felt suffocated, his brow furrowing.
This suffocation was different.
It bore a different texture from the dull, clouded ache he’d grown accustomed to.
‘Some filthy impulse to slash at anything that moves…… that’s what this is.’
A crimson glint flickered across Ho-yeon’s eyes.
* * *
‘It has nothing to do with me.’
That’s what he told himself.
Whether this body’s sister was sold away for money.
Whether the elder brother perfected the Changung Byeongsin Swordsmanship.
Whether the father sighed under the weight of debt.
Whether the mother shed tears.
‘I am the Sword Demon, Dan-wi Myeong. Not Namgung Ho-yeon.’
The warmth in their eyes was directed at Namgung Ho-yeon, not at him.
One careless mistake, one slip into delusion, and irreversible tragedy would unfold.
So he kept his distance, always reminding himself that he was someone who would one day leave this place.
“But why…… does my chest feel so tight?”
Whoosh! Whoooosh!
Ho-yeon was unfolding the Changung Muae Swordsmanship in the training ground.
Compared to the swift, mercurial Changung Muae that Namgung Chung-gang wielded,
his movements were plain, sluggish, almost tedious.
But this was the true Changung Muae that Ho-yeon knew.
Stillness Within Movement, Movement Within Stillness—a Heavy Sword where quietude dwelled in motion and motion held stillness.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Yet no matter how he swung that weighty blade, the oppression in his heart never lifted.
―Aah, you brat! This isn’t midnight calisthenics—what in blazes are you doing? You’re making me dizzy. Stop this infernal swinging!
Zing!
The Cheon-rae Sword spoke through a resonant hum.
Ho-yeon stopped in place and asked it,
“Old Master. Isn’t it pathetic—flailing about however the blade pulls you?”
―What’s that supposed to mean?
“I think it’s pathetic.”
He hadn’t chosen the sword because he wanted to grasp it.
He’d had no choice.
He hadn’t slashed because he wanted to kill.
He’d had no choice.
He hadn’t lived because he wanted to live.
He’d had…… no choice at all.
“Why was I born? Why do I live? Why do I swing this sword? It’s a genuine mystery.”
Ho-yeon voiced a question he’d been unable to answer even in his past life.
The Cheon-rae Sword, silent for a moment, then spoke.
―That is indeed a natural question.
“Natural?”
―You are human—the word contains ‘gap,’ the crack through which sunlight seeps. Humans chasing light is a natural phenomenon.
“Chasing light? Me?”
―Then do you chase darkness instead? Do you wish to huddle alone in some dark room, sniveling in self-pity?
…
―What light do you chase? The answer to your question lies there.
‘The light I chase……’
Ho-yeon fell into thought at the sword spirit’s words.
When he first awoke as Namgung Ho-yeon.
His heart had been filled with nothing but rage.
‘I wanted revenge. Against the Three Paths Alliance that swarmed like a pack of dogs and ambushed me. Against the old Namgung Chung-gang who drove the Cheon-rae Sword into my chest. And above all, against this wretched world itself.’
But three hundred years had already passed.
There was no one left to take revenge upon.
And besides……
“Once more…… I apologize on behalf of this world…… I’m truly sorry…….”
The old Namgung Chung-gang’s final words echoed in his mind.
‘Tch. Don’t you dare apologize alone like a coward and then die. And what’s this—on behalf of the world? Who do you think you are?’
Ho-yeon clicked his tongue inwardly.
To apologize one-sidedly and leave without waiting for a response—such arrogance.
A truly selfish old man.
‘Old man, did you perhaps know? That I would be reborn into the Namgung Clan three hundred years hence?’
If that apology had been a calculated move for his sake, then the old man was nothing short of cunning.
Because of it, Ho-yeon felt not even a trace of desire to take revenge on the Namgung Clan—whom he might otherwise have called an enemy.
“Heh, heh heh. Personally, I wished to become your friend…… but you see, I too have my position to consider…….”
Ho-yeon continued to turn over Namgung Chung-gang’s words, muttering to himself.
‘……Old man. Why did you spare me back at Seho? Was that also because of your position?’
At that time, certainly.
Namgung Chung-gang could have slain the Sword Demon.
But he had let him live.
And with eyes full of pity, he had spoken thus:
“Sword Demon, you drift like a masterless boat without purpose. Even a mere sword is born with the purpose of ‘taking life,’ yet you possess not even that. This is your final chance—I beseech you, find a ‘purpose’ to your existence.”
But ten years had passed since then.
The Sword Demon remained nothing more than a purposeless blade, wandering still.
In the end, Namgung Chung-gang had perished together with the Sword Demon to tie off the thread of his own mistake from ten years prior.
“To live is to weave karmic bonds. You wove too many bonds of suffering, and sought to sever them all with your blade. In your next life, I pray you weave Karmic Bonds of Goodness…….”
‘Karmic Bonds of Goodness…….’
Ho-yeon closed his eyes.
Within the black darkness, a few white threads writhed and twisted.
Were these the Karmic Bonds of Goodness the old man had spoken of—threads that wagged their tails as if begging to be grasped?
Clink!
Opening his eyes, Ho-yeon examined another sword hanging at his waist.
On that blade, worn smooth by hand, dangled a Blue Thread and a Butterfly-shaped Jade Ornament.
―You stubborn fool. Admit it already. The human character for ‘person’ takes the shape of two beings leaning upon and supporting each other.
The Cheon-rae Sword, perceiving Ho-yeon’s heart, spoke as if in reproach.
At that, Ho-yeon let out a scoff.
“……Hmph. What nonsense? That shape comes from having two legs, nothing more. I’ve never harbored such sentimental thoughts.”
―What?
“Still, there’s merit to it. I’ve come into a fortunate position—I won’t squander it so uselessly.”
Sit idle and three meals appear.
A roof over one’s head without worry for survival.
No need to draw a blade to carve out a living.
To preserve this favorable circumstance for as long as possible.
The Namgung Clan must remain strong.
“Very well. I’ve set my immediate purpose.”
―What is it?
“I’ll restore the Namgung Clan to the greatest house under heaven. For Namgung’s sake? Never! Solely for my own sake!”
―……You, did you contract some terminal illness and forget to mention it?
“I don’t follow you. I’m honest about my desires. I live for myself alone.”
As he spoke such grandiose boasts, the tightness in his chest had vanished.
Buoyed by this, Ho-yeon smiled brightly and fastened the Cheon-rae Sword to his waist once more.
“Ha ha ha! Come along, old codger!”
―Eh? Where are we bound?
At the Cheon-rae Sword’s question,
Ho-yeon, wearing a smile laden with meaning, murmured in a cool voice:
“I hear a Sword Demon has appeared at the Baekun Trading Company. Shall we go have a look?”
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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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