Return of the God of War - Chapter 36

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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 36. The Parent a Child Desires.
Shwee-ee-ee-eck!
A crude Broad Sword slash carved from lower left to upper right.
At its edge, a sharp Sword Wind rippled and burst forth.
Crack-crack-crack-crack!
The Sword Wind’s momentum didn’t fade until it had shattered the wooden puppet five paces beyond, then scattered into empty air.
“It… it worked!!”
The swordsman Muk Byeong-ho’s face broke into an enormous grin at the marvel of his own technique.
Originally, he wielded the same weapon as his sister Muk Yi-yeon—the Private Sword.
Though he knew his talent for martial arts fell far short of hers, he had chosen this path out of a desire to be like her.
Yet despite years of swinging a blade day and night, he had never advanced beyond the level of merely channeling Qi through his weapon—the Qi-Infused Weapon stage.
His Internal Energy was abundant enough, but the art of releasing Qi through his blade to wound his opponent, Weapon Qi Injury, remained frustratingly distant.
Muk Byeong-ho had nearly abandoned everything.
He had come to see himself as a failure.
Then came that time.
He appeared.
‘Heuk-gong.’
That was the name Muk Byeong-ho had privately given him.
A man in black who had shown him kindness.
One night, as Muk Byeong-ho trained in frustration, deep in the hours of darkness, Heuk-gong had materialized before him like a ghost.
The stranger had demonstrated a martial technique beyond anything Muk Byeong-ho could imagine, and what he left behind could be summed up simply:
Take up the Broad Sword. Train your lower body.
At first, Muk Byeong-ho had scoffed.
What difference would changing weapons make? What would strengthening his legs accomplish?
But Muk Byeong-ho had nothing left to lose.
With the mindset that it was worth trying, and if it didn’t work then so be it, he picked up a single rusted Broad Sword that had been gathering dust in a corner of his quarters.
He devoted his entire morning training to lower body work, to the Horse Stance, and in particular invested an extra hour focused solely on his right foot.
And the result was nothing short of shocking.
‘Merely ten days.’
The wall he had been unable to breach for years had begun to crack.
It felt as though a thread of light had pierced through the pitch-black darkness that had surrounded him.
And then a month passed.
Today, at last, he had overcome the barrier that had seemed destined to remain forever beyond his reach.
And this achievement held yet another significance for Muk Byeong-ho.
His mother’s recent circumstances, those of Hye Rang-yeong, had been nothing short of calamitous.
Muk Byeong-ho knew well that the ambitions she had cultivated her entire life were on the brink of collapse.
So he desperately hoped that this achievement of his might offer his mother, weighed down by frustration, at least a glimmer of hope.
‘Mother will certainly be pleased.’
Just then.
Thud!
The door to his quarters swung open roughly, and Hye Rang-yeong entered.
Of late, she had been cutting her sleep short and traveling to meet various people in person, and as a result her complexion, once as pale and flawless as white jade, had taken on a dull, grayish cast.
The fine silk slippers she wore had traveled so far in so many directions that their soles had begun to fray and tear.
Yet despite how circumstances seemed to be slipping beyond her control, Hye Rang-yeong’s expression was sharp with acrimony.
“Have the replies from the Yellow Wolf Commander and the Singing Theater Master come through?”
“That is… we have yet to receive a response, madam.”
Hye Rang-yeong’s brow furrowed sharply.
‘Five days have already passed.’
That no answer had yet arrived, despite them being so close it was like they could almost touch noses, could only mean one thing: a clear refusal.
“These wretched beggars were quick enough to snap up my favors when I offered them…”
A bitter curse tumbled out. And a harsh voice followed close behind.
“What of Yi-yeon?”
At that, Gyeom Chong-gwan, her escort and personal attendant, squeezed his eyes shut.
He had desperately hoped she would not ask that question.
But the moment he had been dreading had arrived at last.
“Young Lady Yi-yeon has been sent multiple messages, but she says she will not return until she receives the Master’s orders.”
Silence.
Hye Rang-yeong’s footsteps halted.
She tried to swallow her rage, but she lacked the composure to hold back the venom that rose to her lips.
“Ungrateful wench! Forgetting the grace of being brought into this world! Not even knowing who gave her such talent, and daring to—”
Hye Rang-yeong’s face contorted.
Now she had only one hope left.
“Gye O-su. His skill is reliable, isn’t it?!”
Gyeom Chong-gwan nodded eagerly.
“Yes, yes! Without question. He’s the leader of Geumsaldata, a very famous contract organization in Zhejiang. Moreover, he has a proven track record from twenty years ago of crushing the Namgung lady in just ten strikes. Recently, he’s broken through another barrier, so victory is certain. However…….”
Hye Rang-yeong’s eyes widened.
“However what!!”
“Well, it seems he’s aware of this fact himself, so his conditions are rather demanding…….”
“You wretched fool! I’m offering him the seat of Palace Master on a silver platter and he still has demands?!”
Yet she had no alternative means at her disposal.
“I’ll hear it! Anything! Just make sure you’ve secured a firm grip on his leash. Geomgung must fall into my hands—it absolutely must!”
“Yes! I’ll arrange it without fail.”
It was then.
Muk Byeong-ho approached Hye Rang-yeong quietly.
He opened his mouth with careful words.
But unfortunately, his wish went unfulfilled.
“Mother. Your son has something to tell you…….”
“Later!!”
“…….”
Thump-thump.
Without so much as a glance at Muk Byeong-ho, Hye Rang-yeong hurried into the inner quarters.
Even as she receded from view, her murmuring reached his ears with perfect clarity.
“There’s nothing. Nothing. I’ve lived my life so wrongly. Now that I see, there’s no one left beside me…….”
“…….”
Muk Byeong-ho watched her retreating figure in silence, then resumed his practice, wielding the Broad Sword once more.
His whisper was too soft for anyone else to hear.
“Your son is here, Mother.”
* * *
Only the screech owl’s cry pierced the quiet night.
Piyangcheon, who had been deep in sleep, slowly raised his body.
His eyes narrowed toward a corner of the bedchamber, where shadows lay thick.
“……Have you taken up burglary as your future calling?”
At that moment, Muk Yeo-jin slid from the darkness.
“I thought the lady would be sleeping with the White Moon Sword in her arms, but that’s not the case, is it.”
“There should have been guards posted.”
“I killed them all.”
Piyangcheon’s eyes flashed.
Of course, he didn’t believe that.
Among the Geomgwi, there were still masters whose strength Muk Yeo-jin couldn’t match.
Yet the fact that none of them had noticed her penetrating to the deepest chambers of Geomgung, to the Palace Master’s bedchamber, was astounding.
It was truly perplexing.
Where on earth had such a person come from.
“……Could it be. Are you some reborn master from an age past?”
“Let’s not speak nonsense. How about a drink instead.”
Muk Yeo-jin drew a small bottle from her bosom and shook it.
“It’s a liquor called Seolgok Wine, obtained from Qinghai.”
“Qinghai? You traveled to Qinghai in the meantime?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Muk Yeo-jin deftly changed the subject.
“Speaking of which, how goes your instruction of our mother’s cultivation?”
Piyangcheon burst out in anger.
But the reason was not merely that Muk Yeo-jin had dodged the question.
“That’s a teacup, you fool! Why are you pouring liquor into it!”
“Don’t the Daoist sages who dwell in Gangbuk call spirits grain tea? In the end, it’s all the same thing.”
“What an impudent wretch!”
Yet as the clean fragrance of Seolgok Wine reached his nostrils, Piyangcheon had no choice but to raise the teacup to his lips.
“……In my final years, I’ll die of heartbreak over a wayward disciple like this.”
“Isn’t that too just karma?”
Piyangcheon clamped his mouth shut.
There seemed little point in pressing the matter further—he’d only end up at a disadvantage.
Muk Yeo-jin was privately savoring Piyangcheon’s reaction.
“So, have you raised Mother’s skill level somewhat?”
“Ha! Of course. Who do you think taught her?”
His tone brimmed with confidence, but in truth it was mere bluster.
Piyangcheon had assisted Namgung Yeong-yeong’s training as Muk Yeo-jin requested, and she had not refused him.
Yet Piyangcheon had given her no substantial aid.
Or rather, could not have.
On the first day, he had immediately recognized that her Enlightenment was in no way inferior to his own.
In the end, it was less instruction than mutual exchange.
An equal partnership where each gained something from the other.
If there was anything she lacked, though…
‘It would be Qi Accumulation—that is, Internal Energy.’
Meanwhile, Muk Yeo-jin was biting back a smile.
Piyangcheon’s inner thoughts were written plainly across his face.
Thunk.
Muk Yeo-jin then set a wooden case upon the table.
“What’s this?”
“It is Seonryeong Shingwa. Please deliver it to Mother on my behalf, Master.”
Piyangcheon’s eyes went wide.
“…What did you say?!”
How could he not know.
A legendary Spiritual Medicine that appeared in Jungwon perhaps once in a hundred years.
‘So that’s why she went to Qinghai!’
How had this wretch learned that Seonryeong Shingwa existed in Qinghai?
But such details hardly mattered now.
What mattered was this:
“And mine?”
……
Muk Yeo-jin gazed at Piyangcheon in silence.
Her eyes narrowed to thin slits.
……
At last, Piyangcheon turned his head away, embarrassed.
“Ahem. Why not give it to me yourself? Why make such a request of me?”
“Because if I gave it directly, you surely would not accept it.”
“And if I simply ate it, what then?”
“Then I would consider the Geuktu Shinsgeom and the Black Night Sword as having been purchased with the Seonryeong Shingwa.”
The implication was clear: having paid a fair price, their relationship would end there.
Piyangcheon chuckled softly and raised another cup of Seolgok Wine to his lips.
“I’ll grant you the Black Night Sword, but what use is the Geuktu Shinsgeom—something I’ve only shown once?”
……
In that moment, Piyangcheon caught a peculiar glimmer in Muk Yeo-jin’s gaze.
‘Surely not?’
He had certainly laid bare all the strain and effort embedded in Geomgung without holding anything back.
But it had been shown only once.
That she could master such an exalted martial art from a single viewing…
‘Such a feat would only be possible for the Three Sovereigns.’
Piyangcheon himself was well aware of Muk Yeo-jin’s extraordinary martial talent.
By sheer talent alone, she might well exceed him.
That is precisely why he had taken her as his disciple.
But he had never, in all honesty, compared it to that of the Three Sovereigns.
The Three Sovereigns were beings of that order.
They were something one might call not human talent but heaven’s mistake.
In the end, Piyangcheon could only push aside the hypothesis he himself had conjured.
But if…
‘If such a martial master were to walk the Human World once more…’
Would it be a blessing or a calamity?
That night, Piyangcheon spent the deep hours without reaching any conclusion.
The next day, he sought out Namgung Yeong-yeong with the Spiritual Medicine, as Muk Yeo-jin had asked.
* * *
“So it was something Yeo-jin asked you to give her.”
The moment Namgung Yeong-yeong saw the Seonryeong Shingwa, that was what she said.
Piyangcheon’s eyes widened.
He swore he’d said nothing.
Not suspicion—certainty.
There was nothing he could have done about it.
“How did you know?”
“A woman’s intuition.”
“I see… That child said if she gave it to you, her mother would refuse it.”
Namgung Yeong-yeong smiled faintly.
“I’ll take it.”
“Hmm?”
Piyangcheon was momentarily taken aback.
From what he could tell, Namgung Yeong-yeong struck him as the sort of woman who would force a spiritual medicine down her son’s throat the moment one became available.
“May I ask your reason?”
“Because that’s what Yeo-jin would want.”
“……!”
“Is it not a parent’s duty to be the mother their child wishes for?”
“…….”
Piyangcheon sipped his tea in silence, then took his leave from Namgung Yeong-yeong’s quarters.
As he walked, his mind elsewhere, he suddenly found himself smiling bitterly.
“Damn it all—such a touching bond between mother and son.”
In the end, rather than return to Geomgung, he turned away from Bondan and headed toward Hoehyeon Mountain in Sichuan.
To the burial place of his own mother.

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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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