Return of the God of War - Chapter 32

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

Chapter 32. She Had to Admit What a Sparrow Was.
Click.
Pi Yang-cheon entered the private chamber at the highest level of Sho Yeon Ru.
True to its reputation as the finest pavilion in Guangxi, the moment the door opened, the splendor of Ho Gye Stream and Qing Ming Mountain spread before his eyes.
“Welcome.”
The voice was clear as jade beads rolling across polished stone.
A middle-aged woman in a gracefully tailored silk robe, who had arrived earlier, offered a formal greeting.
A man of Pi Yang-cheon’s standing seldom bothered with formalities, yet in this place, he took care not to dismiss her courtesy lightly.
“I, Pi Mo, am honored to meet you, Hye Rang-yeong.”
Hye Rang-yeong gestured toward the seat ahead with a smile playing at her lips.
“Have I neglected you all this time? Please, sit. I’ve prepared all the dishes you favor.”
Pi Yang-cheon returned her smile and took his seat.
“Thank you for inviting me to such a lovely place, madam.”
“What need is there for thanks between us?”
“I suppose you’re right. Heh heh heh.”
The moment Hye Rang-yeong emphasized “between us,” Pi Yang-cheon’s gaze drifted away.
Her eyebrows twitched at the sight, yet she maintained her bright smile.
On the surface, the two conversed in warm and cordial tones.
But neither could fail to notice the subtle discomfort flowing between them.
As they were engaged in casual pleasantries,
Hye Rang-yeong suddenly asked,
“……Why won’t you touch the food?”
“Perhaps it’s age catching up with me—eating late at night no longer agrees with my digestion.”
“…….”
In that instant, Hye Rang-yeong’s face, which had worn a smile throughout, hardened.
The hand gripping the teacup began to tremble faintly.
Soon her strained voice filled the chamber.
“Why? Are you afraid I’ve poisoned it……?”
“That is not——”
“Then what is it, exactly?!”
Crash.
The teacup in Hye Rang-yeong’s grip shattered into pieces.
Fragments embedded themselves in her skin, and crimson beads of blood fell steadily to the floor.
Pi Yang-cheon regarded her with an unmoved gaze, and she did not look away.
A brief silence fell across the room, now frozen like thin ice.
It was Hye Rang-yeong who broke that stillness.
“……What is the reason for this?”
Her meaning was unmistakable.
‘Why have you abandoned me and grasped another’s hand instead?’
Pi Yang-cheon opened his mouth, but before any words could emerge, Hye Rang-yeong cut him off.
“No. At this point, hearing reasons would mean nothing.”
Thump.
Gulp, gulp.
Hye Rang-yeong seized a bottle of strong liquor and drank directly from it.
She was not one for drink.
Even at banquets and formal gatherings, she barely managed a cup or two, so this very sight spoke volumes of how turbulent her heart had become.
Intoxicated in moments, Hye Rang-yeong’s reddened eyes opened as she spoke.
“……Give me a chance.”
Though Pi Yang-cheon understood her heart, he had already made his decision.
When he shook his head slowly, Hye Rang-yeong bit her lip.
At last, she was forced to resort to her final recourse.
Slap.
Hye Rang-yeong drew a Jade Token of green-blue from her robe and laid it upon the table.
The moment Pi Yang-cheon saw the token, his eyes widened.
It was his own Debt Token, the one he had once given to Hye Pyeong, the patriarch of the Nam Cheon Hye Family and Hye Rang-yeong’s father.
Pi Yang-cheon’s face tightened as he asked,
“Do you truly intend to invoke this now, madam?”
“I have no wish to force your hand. I know well you won’t grant it. I simply ask for a chance.”
Pi Yang-cheon fell silent.
Presenting a Debt Token did not obligate him to grant every request.
But when she came before him in such a humble posture, he couldn’t bring himself to turn her away coldly, not after all the years they’d known each other.
“…….”
A long silence settled over the room once more.
Hye Rang-yeong took it as assent and rose to her feet.
“……Then I’ll take that as your answer. I’ll be going now.”
Just as she staggered toward the threshold, about to cross it—
“Young-ah.”
She flinched.
At the sound of Pi Yang-cheon’s gentle voice, Hye Rang-yeong’s footsteps halted.
Watching her small, retreating figure, Pi Yang-cheon sighed.
“After knowing each other for more than thirty years, I’ll offer you this much counsel. A sparrow shouldn’t…….”
But before he could open his mouth properly, Hye Rang-yeong cut him off with a sharp cry.
“What is it! The sparrow chases the stork and tears its crotch? Is that what you meant to say?!”
She clenched her teeth and pressed on.
“Namgung Ryeong-ryeong and that son of hers are the storks, and I’m the sparrow? How could you say such a thing to me? How could you?!”
“……No, that’s not it.”
Pi Yang-cheon drained a cup of wine.
After moistening his parched throat, he spoke again.
“Whether sparrow or stork, in the end they’re both creatures that fly somewhere, are they not?”
Hye Rang-yeong remained motionless, her head still turned away.
“If you only know which direction the stork flew, the sparrow can certainly follow. The stork has its own methods, and the sparrow has its own. That’s what I’m saying.”
“…….”
“And the most important thing is that it all begins with accepting that you are a sparrow. Young-ah.”
“…….”
Hye Rang-yeong’s entire body trembled with shame.
Whatever meaning lay behind his words—
To her, it could only sound like Pi Yang-cheon saying, ‘You are nothing but a sparrow.’
She said nothing more and left the room at once.
Pi Yang-cheon gazed quietly out the window.
Heavy clouds hung in the sky, casting a gloomy grey over everything.
Staring at that sky, Pi Yang-cheon tilted his cup alone, drinking deep into the late hours of night.
* * *
“Things seem to be getting complicated.”
This was what Pi Yang-cheon said when he came to find Muk Yeo-jin.
“What do you mean by that?”
“It looks as though Rang-yeong and the martial artist that child recommended will have to face Namgung in a Martial Duel to determine who takes the Palace Master’s seat.”
Muk Yeo-jin’s brow furrowed.
‘A Martial Duel…….’
Now that he’d already handed over his secret technique, the Ultimate Killing Sword Technique, and even his cherished weapon, the Black Night Sword—
Pi Yang-cheon couldn’t possibly have changed his mind.
Which meant—
‘Hye Rang-yeong must have asked him. With terms he couldn’t refuse.’
What stakes could she have raised to make that stubborn old man go back on his word?
“Did the Lady offer him gold and silver treasures?”
At Muk Yeo-jin’s mockery, Pi Yang-cheon’s eyes snapped open.
“You fool! Do I look like a man who’d be swayed by mere money?”
“Then what was it?”
Pi Yang-cheon hesitated a moment before speaking.
“She produced the Debt Token I’d given the head of the Nam Cheon Hye Family long ago.”
“A Debt Token?”
“The details are difficult to explain, but once that child declared she would use it, I had no choice but to comply.”
Muk Yeo-jin nodded slowly.
Now the game made sense.
He’d always sensed, if dimly, that the bond between his master and Hye Rang-yeong ran deep.
Finding a Debt Token among them was hardly surprising.
But understanding the circumstances and accepting this situation were two different matters.
Muk Yeo-jin’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Pi Yang-cheon.
“This puts me in a difficult position, Master. Didn’t you promise that if I became your disciple, you would place my mother in the seat of Sword Palace Master? How can you speak out of both sides of your mouth like this?”
“Well, that is……you took it upon yourself to—”
“Pardon?”
Pi Yang-cheon cleared his throat repeatedly, then suddenly bellowed.
“Won’t it be enough if your mother wins the Martial Duel?”
“Then please help your student so that Master can win.”
“What?”
Pi Yang-cheon’s brow furrowed. A flicker of something like disappointment crossed his eyes.
“Are you asking me to interfere in a duel?”
“Of course not, Master.”
“Then what?”
“Please guide my mother until the Martial Duel takes place.”
His expression grew troubled.
“Even so, it’s difficult for me to directly teach a warrior from the Orthodox Faction…”
“Haven’t you already agreed to become our mother and son’s backer? And now you’re raising such objections?”
“That’s a somewhat different matter…”
“If you won’t keep your promise to seat my mother as Palace Master, and you won’t help her achieve victory in the Martial Duel, how can I trust you going forward, sir?”
“Fine, fine! I shall personally guide your mother.”
“One more thing.”
“What now!”
“If you happen to have any hidden elixirs or such, please give some to my mother.”
At that point, Pi Yang-cheon finally lost his temper.
“I don’t have any! Not a single one! Even if I were to starve to death, I have none. You brat!”
The moment he shouted, Muk Yeo-jin had already unfolded his Lightness Skill and was fleeing far into the distance.
* * *
In the tea room of the residence.
“It’s turned out for the best, actually.”
At Muk Yeo-jin’s words, Pyo Yeon tilted her head.
“Young Master, what do you mean it’s turned out well?”
“If Mother had simply ascended to the Palace Master position as things stood, the Sword Ghosts would have resisted greatly.”
The term “Sword Ghosts” refers to the warriors who belong to the Sword Palace.
If a mother from the Orthodox Faction, who had achieved neither merit nor accomplishment within the Sword Palace, suddenly became their leader one day—
From their perspective, such resentment would have been inevitable.
“But if Mother demonstrates through the Martial Duel that she possesses the strength to become Palace Master, it will offset some of their discontent.”
At this, Namgung Ryeong-ryeong nodded in agreement.
“I think the same.”
Gam Mo, who had been listening, stroked her chin and asked.
“But who is the opponent supposed to be, Young Master Muk?”
“According to Master’s account, it’s a man named Gye O-su, the Ghost Blood Sword Master.”
At that, Gam Mo’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Namgung Ryeong-ryeong.
“The Ghost Blood Sword Master, Gye O-su? You mean him?”
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong answered in a composed tone.
“Yes. He’s the one who defeated me in the finals of the Iron Blood Festival held in Gam Suk in the past.”
“Mother, what is the Iron Blood Festival?”
At Muk Yeo-jin’s question, Gam Mo answered in his stead.
“It’s an event that fell away some fifteen years ago. It was a Martial Duel tournament where renowned young warriors from both the Orthodox and Unorthodox Factions would compete against each other.”
Muk Yeo-jin let out a low whistle.
“Warriors from both the Orthodox and Unorthodox Factions gathering to hold a tournament… that must have been terribly fierce.”
“Indeed. Because of it, each match produced severe injuries and deaths in succession, until finally the event was abolished.”
In a way, it was an inevitable outcome.
Be that as it may.
“Does that mean Mother was defeated by this Gye O-su?”
“Yes. I couldn’t hold out for even ten seconds before I fell.”
Muk Yeo-jin was genuinely startled to hear this.
He wasn’t certain of his mother’s exact martial prowess at that time.
But she had been such an exceptional warrior that she once earned the epithet bearing the character for Dragon.
‘For him to subdue such a mother in merely ten seconds.’
It spoke volumes about his opponent’s strength.
Moreover, Mother had kept her distance from martial arts for a long time since then.
Meanwhile, this man Gye O-su would have been honing his blade steadily all these years.
“This will be no easy contest, then.”
At Muk Yeo-jin’s words, Gam Mo and Pyo Yeon nodded with grave expressions.
However.
Yet Namgung Ryeong-ryeong, the very subject of their concern, sat serenely savoring the fragrance of her tea.

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