Return of the God of War - Chapter 38

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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 38. The Meaning of a Title in Name Alone.
Geomgung, located at the far northern edge of Sadocheon’s outer territories.
Two figures walked into the Great Martial Training Ground at its heart.
They were Pi Yangcheon and Hye Rangyeong.
“It has been some time. I trust you have been well, my lady.”
“… Yes, thank you for asking.”
“Is that so? Ha ha.”
Pi Yangcheon offered what seemed a harmless smile, but Hye Rangyeong passed by him without expression.
It was a clear refusal to continue the conversation.
As she passed, his smile faded into something bitter.
The two made their way toward the honored seats prepared at the front of the Great Martial Training Ground.
And above their places.
There stood the Taeasa Chair, prepared for only one person—though the likelihood of it being filled was exceedingly slim.
Moments passed.
Geomgwi began arriving one by one, until the area around the Great Martial Training Ground was packed so densely there was scarcely room to stand.
It was extraordinarily rare for hundreds of Geomgwi to gather in one place.
Yet as warriors of Geomgung, how could any of them be absent on a day such as this?
Today was the day the Succession Trial to determine the new Palace Master would be held.
The Geomgwi of Geomgung are divided into three levels: heaven, earth, and humanity.
Gathered here were not only the In Geomgwi and Ji Geomgwi, but also the Cheon Geomgwi, who rarely showed themselves, clustered in one corner.
Yet despite hundreds of warriors having assembled, the atmosphere of the training ground was unexpectedly quiet.
More than quiet—beneath that silence lay a thick, hidden malice.
There was no helping it.
The Geomgwi were deeply unsettled.
Not long ago.
Pi Yangcheon had suddenly declared he would step down from the Palace Master’s seat.
But the real problem lay with the two names proposed as successors.
One of them was Namgung Ryeongryeong.
A warrior of the Jeongpa from birth, no less.
In fact, most of the Geomgwi here hadn’t even known she was a warrior.
They had only ever known her as one of the Heavenly Master’s consorts, so the sudden news that she had been chosen as their leader struck like thunder from a clear sky.
Who could accept such a thing without reservation?
And the second candidate.
Gye Osu, the Blood-Drinking Sword Master.
Even if half the rumors surrounding his prowess were true, he would be more than worthy as Palace Master by martial skill alone.
He was counted among the top ten swordsmen of the Dark Way in the current era.
Yet the Geomgwi regarded him with no less displeasure than Namgung Ryeongryeong.
Indeed, some harbored even greater antipathy toward Gye Osu than toward her.
The reason was that he had organized the Geumsaldae, a mercenary band of hired killers.
Why the character for gold in Geumsaldae was gold rather than prohibition.
Because those dogs would kill anyone for money, without exception.
Whether it was a woman, an elder, or even a child—they swung their blades without hesitation.
Some say that the Orthodox Way is just and the Sapa are brutal and vile.
But reality is not so simple.
Certainly, warriors of the Orthodox Way and those of the Sapa see different worlds and hold different beliefs.
Yet those of the Sapa, those of the Dark Way—they are not without parents, nor without children.
To say they lack Chivalry is one thing, but to say they have abandoned even Humanity is to call them beasts.
The Geomgwi in particular were known as a rare breed even within Sadocheon.
They were called Geomgwi—sword ghosts—for being fanatics devoted solely to the blade.
A man like Gye Osu, who would sell the sword he had devoted his entire life to for mere gold, was perhaps the very embodiment of what the Geomgwi despised most.
Yet there was only one reason they did not raise their voices in open objection.
Because this was Pi Yangcheon’s decision.
Not out of fear for their lives, but solely out of reverence for the swordmaster Pi Yangcheon, they bit their tongues and endured.
How much time had passed in this way?
Creak.
Suddenly, the palace gates of Geomgung swung wide open.
Through them strode Gye Osu, bearing a Great Sword thick as a man’s torso, moving with a casual gait.
Behind him came a dozen warriors.
They were Gye Osu’s subordinates—the Geumsaldae.
Gye Osu, glancing around the arena, nodded with evident satisfaction.
“So these are the ones who’ll be serving me from now on, heh heh heh.”
The Succession Trial wasn’t even over, and the current Palace Master, Pi Yangcheon, stood plainly before him—yet Gye Osu showed no respect whatsoever, his manner brash and presumptuous.
At last, the fury the Geomgwi had been holding back exploded all at once.
A low, thunderous rumble.
With fierce gazes, the Geomgwi’s qi crashed down upon Gye Osu.
Seeing this, Hye Rangyeong’s brow furrowed.
“What is this, sir?”
“I apologize, but I’ve said nothing to them.”
“Then order them to stop at once.”
Pi Yangcheon shook his head slowly.
“That’s not something I can do, madam.”
“Not something you can do? What do you mean?”
“Whoever wins today’s trial will have their name inscribed in the Palace Master’s position. But tell me—what meaning does a position that is merely a name hold?”
……
Hye Rangyeong’s eyes trembled faintly.
It felt as though he was rebuking her for struggling toward a position that was nothing more than a name.
Pi Yangcheon continued with a thin smile.
“The strength of Geomgung flows from the Geomgwi. They are simple, crude men. If you cannot make them bow of their own will, but instead force their heads down and sit yourself in the Palace Master’s chair by force, you will never gain the power you desire. So let us simply observe, shall we?”
At those words, Hye Rangyeong’s lips pressed shut.
Even as they spoke, the Geomgwi’s finely honed, blade-like qi streamed toward Gye Osu in quick succession.
Yet it seemed the reputation of “Geomgwi Blood-Seeker Swordmaster” was not won by mere luck.
Gye Osu laughed with ease.
“You lot make for interesting sport.”
He faced them with supreme confidence and released his own qi.
A whisper of wind.
Crimson-red smoke coiled up from Gye Osu’s entire body.
It was the Hongmang Qi from his secret technique, the Hongmang Gwicheon Gong.
As the Hongmang Qi pushed back the Geomgwi’s momentum, he strode forward with assurance.
But that confidence would not last long.
After roughly twenty paces.
A crushing force of entirely different density pressed in upon him.
When Gye Osu faltered, Hye Rangyeong asked.
“Why has he suddenly stopped?”
Pi Yangcheon answered matter-of-factly.
“Your warrior has broken through the momentum of the In Geomgwi. Now the Ji Geomgwi are sending their force.”
Hye Rangyeong disliked hearing him refer to Gye Osu as “your warrior,” though she could not deny the truth of it, and so she turned her anxious gaze back to the arena.
She could not deny the fact, and so with uneasy eyes, she turned her attention back.
Gye Osu’s brow deepened into a scowl.
“The audacity of these wretches…….”
He tried to move forward again, but found his legs would scarcely obey.
The qi of the Ji Geomgwi was qualitatively on an entirely different level from the lower-ranked In Geomgwi within Geomgung.
It felt as though his feet had sunk into mud.
Deep lines etched themselves across Gye Osu’s brow.
If he so wished, there was little he could not break through—yet he risked internal injury, and he had no desire to expend his spirit-force on this tedious matter.
So Gye Osu shouted to the Geumsaldae subordinates who followed in his wake.
“What are you doing, you fools! Clear a path at once!”
At his command, the Geumsaldae lined up on either side, opening the way for Gye Osu to walk through.
But the Geumsaldae numbered only a dozen or so at best.
Their martial prowess was roughly equivalent to a single Ji Geomgwi, perhaps slightly higher.
For them to withstand the qi of hundreds of Geomgwi was utterly impossible.
A low groaning sound.
Thud. Thud.
One by one, the Geumsaldae members who had suffered grievous internal injuries collapsed, blood foaming at their lips.
Gye Osu walked past them without so much as a glance, his stride unhurried and serene.
At this, the Geomgwi’s expressions grew even more rigid.
Who would willingly serve beneath a commander who used his own subordinates like disposable rags and cast them aside?
Thus, just as Gye Osu had taken another dozen paces or so.
He came to a halt once more.
By now, even Hye Rangyeong understood the reason.
The Cheon Geomgwi—only ten of them existed in all of Geomgung—had stepped forward.
Gye Osu’s expression twisted into something monstrous and vicious.
This time, he didn’t even feel room to move.
Like standing before a towering wall with no way around it.
Beyond shock now—humiliation crept through him.
‘These are supposed to be my subordinates’ skills?’
They were worlds apart from those wretches sprawled on the ground out there.
Gye Osu’s mind raced like counting beads on an abacus, and he barely suppressed the laugh threatening to escape.
‘Namgung Ryeongryeong. If I just crush that woman, I can command soldiers like these?’
He could almost hear money rolling toward him.
But first, he’d have to break through this wretched aura—and with bare hands, it seemed impossible.
Gye Osu drew the Great Sword from his back.
“You mangy dogs, not even knowing who your master is! Today I’ll beat some respect into you and show you exactly where you stand!”
He let out a manic laugh and swung the Great Sword like a windmill, unleashing a torrent of enormous slashing wind in all directions.
It was a technique from the Hongmang Gwicheon Gong—the Soul-Severing Ghost Dance.
Slice-slice-slice-slice-slice!
Crescent-shaped waves of Qi-infused wind flew toward the Geomgwi.
A killing technique saturated with overwhelming power.
His character was nothing to boast of, but his martial skill was genuine.
Unless they were at least the level of a Cheon Geomgwi, blocking this barrage was nearly impossible.
But.
Gye Osu’s smug expression froze in shock.
The Geomgwi, who he’d expected to scatter in panic, didn’t flinch—not a single one.
They simply stood there, watching death descend upon them with unflinching calm.
That sight sent a chill down Gye Osu’s spine.
‘What—what kind of madmen are in this organization!’
Pi Yangcheon, watching from the sidelines, felt anger ignite behind his eyes.
He’d tried to stay quiet out of consideration for Hye Rangyeong.
But not only had this man dared to insult his subordinates in front of him—he’d brandished a blade like that.
He couldn’t hold back any longer.
Pi Yangcheon’s hand moved in an instant.
At the same moment.
A line of sword Qi tore through the air.
The first technique of the Geuktu Shingeom.
The Cheonswae Ilseom.
In Pi Yangcheon’s left hand was the Baekmwol Geom, drawn at some point he himself wasn’t aware of.
The Cheonswae Ilseom he deployed was lightning-fast—like a flash of brilliance.
Shweeee-eek.
The wind-like sword Qi obliterated Gye Osu’s technique into mere wisps of light.
Gye Osu’s lips curled into a bitter smile.
“Ho? So you’re abandoning the Palace Master’s seat to keep company with some brat—I thought you’d lost your mind, but perhaps not?”
“Where did a vagrant like you crawl out from, calling yourself a senior?”
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom.
The killing intent of both men clashed, shaking the space between them.
In that instant, a murderous atmosphere hung in the air.
Hye Rangyeong’s voice slipped in quietly.
“Please stop, sir. Are you perhaps trying to wear down the Succession Trial candidate’s spirit before the ceremony?”
Twitch.
Pi Yangcheon’s brow twitched slightly.
He turned his head slowly, regarding Hye Rangyeong.
His eyes held a deep disappointment.
That she would treat him as someone capable of such petty schemes—it stung.
After staring at her for a moment, Pi Yangcheon exhaled slowly and withdrew his gaze.
He cast one last glare at Gye Osu, then turned silently and returned to his place.
Once Pi Yangcheon stepped back, the Geomgwi could no longer press their advantage against Gye Osu.
Gye Osu chuckled and climbed onto the now-uncontested Succession Trial platform with ease.
And then, moments later.
Grrrr-click.
The heavy one-piece iron gate of Geomgung groaned open slowly, scraping against the ground.
Everyone turned to look.
Naturally, they expected Namgung Ryeongryeong, the second Palace Master candidate, to emerge.
But.
The figure who appeared alone in that place was none other than Muk Yeojin.

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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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