Return of the God of War - Chapter 43

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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 43. I Leave It to You
Steel grows stronger the more it is hammered.
The meaning of his father’s parting words was simple enough.
In the end, it meant: keep fighting until Geuk-won-ho-sin-gong reaches mastery.
And the opponent was right there.
The bizarre creatures rushing toward him at this very moment with mad ferocity.
Muk Yeo-jin lifted his gaze.
Beyond the horizon of the Snowy Plain, he could see their black silhouettes surging forward like waves.
“It has been a long time.”
The ‘things’ racing across the frozen wasteland were far from strangers to Muk Yeo-jin.
He regarded one of them with an impassive face.
At first glance, it bore the shape of a rooster.
But looking closer, that creature carried not one head, but three.
A Three-Headed Phoenix.
That was its nature.
Nor was the pack composed only of such things.
A tortoise with a bird’s head; a serpent-tailed thing with wings and smooth scales like a fish; an owl with a man’s hands and feet, its gaze sinister and foul.
Every one of them radiated a wrongness so profound he would have preferred never to see them even in dreams.
Muk Yeo-jin drew the Heuk-ya-geom slowly, taking in each abomination with his gaze.
Desire.
Beings born from the accumulation of fervent longing—people call such things Spirit Beings.
Then what of malice?
What are the abominations born from endless resentment and hatred compressed into form?
They are.
Demon Beasts.
The true nature of the creatures now filling his sight.
Though Muk Yeo-jin’s gaze remained flat as he watched the horde of Demon Beasts exhale their thick Resentment Aura, beneath that surface a deep Killing Intent quietly bloomed.
Muk Yeo-jin, holding his sword stance, suddenly let out a soft laugh.
Seeing the Demon Beasts, a forgotten memory had suddenly clawed its way into his mind.
* * *
Deep within a gorge in Jilin Province.
Tam-han Valley.
A graveyard of endless violence repeated across centuries—a death-ground.
There, resentment and malice, killing and greed had settled thick as fog.
Those who had gorged themselves on all this corruption spawned the most vicious Demon Beasts.
A Forbidden Zone that had become a realm of Inhuman Demons where men could no longer dwell.
Into such a place.
Five martial masters set foot.
Among them, Maeng Ak—a giant of steel-hard muscle—tightened his grip on his Iron Cudgel and growled.
“So the Demon Immortal is hiding in there, is he? That dog of a bastard—today I’ll grind his bones to powder, I swear it.”
Then a handsome man of striking beauty craned his neck to peer into the distance.
The Plum Blossom Divine Sword slung across his back spoke to his identity.
“Hmm, looks like at least ten thousand, wouldn’t you say?”
An elderly woman with white hair, fanning herself gently with an Ice Fan, received this with a refined voice.
“Precisely nine thousand eight hundred and forty-four.”
“…You certainly know your stuff.”
“I pride myself on accuracy.”
Jang Pyeong shook his head ruefully.
“But who ever heard of so many Demon Beasts—nearly ten thousand of them.”
Just then, a deeper voice rang out—familiar yet somehow heavier in tone.
“Jang, surely you’re not frightened?”
At Muk Yeo-jin’s jab, Jang Pyeong’s eyes flashed wide open.
“What?! Me—Jang Pyeong, Hwasan’s finest talent—afraid? Don’t spout such nonsense, you arrogant pup.”
He drew his Plum Blossom Divine Sword, and Sword Force blazed from its blade.
A dazzling purple Glow Qi, brilliant as sunset, blazed across the dimness of Tam-han Valley.
Muk Yeo-jin grinned and stepped forward.
“Then shall we wager? The loser of whoever catches more takes the Night Watch for a month.”
“Agreed! That’s exactly what I wanted!”
At that, both Maeng Ak and Baek Yeo-min showed interest.
“Now that sounds quite appealing. I’ll join in as well.”
“Let me join in too!”
“Perfect! Now’s the time to settle the ranks once and for all! But what about you, Lady Cheon? What will you—”
Jang Pyeong turned to gauge Cheon Hwa-rin’s intentions, only to find she was already gone.
Which made perfect sense.
She had shouldered an enormous Large Stone Hammer and was already charging into the Death Ground, that seething morass of demon beasts.
And the other three were hot on her heels.
Jang Pyeong’s face paled as he cried out.
“You cowardly bastards!”
He too scrambled frantically to catch up with the group.
That day.
Muk Yeo-jin and his sworn brothers subdued nearly ten thousand demon beasts in Tam-han Valley and executed the elder of the Won-eum Religion known as a Demon Immortal.
And Jang Pyeong was left to stand Night Watch alone for the entire month that followed, wandering through the long, lonely nights.
* * *
Even as his thoughts came to an end, a faint smile lingered at the corner of Muk Yeo-jin’s mouth.
He gazed suddenly into empty space.
‘Are you all well, wherever you are?’
In a soft voice, Muk Yeo-jin murmured the words toward those who must be somewhere in the world.
Of course, no answer came in return.
Presently he lowered his gaze and readied his sword stance once more.
In truth, before worrying about his sworn brothers, he needed to see to his own survival first.
The demon beasts had already closed to within thirty zhang.
Merely several hundred creatures at most.
Compared to the bloody battle of Tam-han Valley that day, their numbers and ferocity both fell far short.
But Muk Yeo-jin too had grown weaker.
In his current state, they would certainly prove a formidable opponent.
Moreover.
‘This place.’
Muk Yeo-jin’s eyes narrowed.
The bitter cold of the Snowy Plain was as severe as that of the Northern Sea.
Wind tore at his skin without mercy, and with each breath he drew, his throat burned as though freezing solid.
Merely maintaining body heat drained his Inner Power at an alarming rate—a brutal environment indeed.
Truly a Death Ground.
Yet even in this dire strait, Muk Yeo-jin’s mind remained perfectly calm.
‘They say all things in this world are relative. How fitting that phrase proves.’
The Four Paths Heaven’s Master.
Having just faced someone who seemed an absolute being—someone who would overwhelm even his desperate struggle—perhaps that was why?
The demon beasts charging at him with murderous intent now seemed almost welcome.
And.
His head still throbbed dully from the unjust beating he’d taken from his father.
Those were the beings who had freed him—they had come to him now.
“You bastards picked a good day to show yourselves!”
With a smile playing at his lips, Muk Yeo-jin launched himself forward without hesitation, rushing headlong at them.
Shriek.
As his blade flashed with lightning speed, the Sword Force that erupted from it cleaved two spider-demon corpses in half.
He opened the battle at once with the Cheon-swae-il-seom.
Demon beasts were creatures that should never have been born in the first place.
Moreover, they were illusions created through formations.
There was no reason to show them any mercy.
Whirrrrr.
Boom!
The Sword Dance of Muk Yeo-jin, fallen amid the demon beasts, had begun.
Shwoosh!
Along the beautiful sword path traced by the Heuk-ya-geom, the demon beasts were swept away like autumn leaves before the wind.
Whissssh.
As Muk Yeo-jin drew his blade in a long diagonal arc, striking down without mercy in a chain of attacks, something strange stirred.
From the tip of the sword came what seemed like a gentle breeze—but in an instant it transformed into a gale, then into a raging tempest that engulfed the demon beasts.
Dozens of sword winds ravaged the demon beasts’ entire bodies.
The second form of the Geuk-won-ho-sin-gong technique.
The Wind Wheel Slash.
What he wielded was far more than mere Sword Technique.
He wove between sword techniques and fist methods, ranging across the snowy mountain without restraint.
Crash-bang-thud!
Whoosh!
The creature that had taken the full force of the Mountain King Dance’s mighty fist went flying into the distance with a sound like an explosion.
Whistle.
Thud!
“Shriek!”
Crack!
By now, nearly two hundred demon beasts had fallen to his hand.
Yet still more of the creatures pressed forward, baring their fangs at Muk Yeo-jin.
And worse still.
His inner power was beginning to deplete.
His breathing grew ragged, his muscles stiffening with fatigue.
Had this been real combat, he would have retreated by now to recover.
But Muk Yeo-jin only wielded his blade with greater fury.
Steel must be heated until it glows red-hot before it can be forged into shape.
This was the moment to turn up the heat.
And in that same instant, he understood on a visceral level.
‘I still haven’t drawn out the true power of the Geuk-won-ho-sin-gong.’
Muk Yeo-jin steadied his mind and nodded to himself.
‘Yes. From this moment on, I’ll leave my defense to you.’
At the same time, his sword stance twisted.
It shifted into a purely offensive posture, all aggression.
Shriek-shriek-shriek! Shriek!
The sword force pouring from Muk Yeo-jin grew sharper still.
He threw his own safety aside.
No—he entrusted his defense entirely to the Geuk-won-ho-sin-gong.
Muk Yeo-jin cast everything into cutting down only the enemies before his eyes.
As though fulfilling the words he had once spoken to his father, Muk Woo-myeong.
He would annihilate every being that dared block his path.
Killing intent.
That thing he had buried deep within finally raised its head, flaunting its presence.
“Shriek!”
The demon beasts, devoid of reason, seemed to feel fear itself.
They dared not approach Muk Yeo-jin, only emitting sharp cries in succession.
Hiss-hiss-hiss-hiss.
Behind his face that inspired terror.
A phantom from the past.
The War God had returned—the one whose very presence had made even the vile Won-eum Religion back away.
“Then… come at me all at once.”
Muk Yeo-jin stepped forward with a cold smile playing at his lips.
* * *
Muk Woo-myeong, the Heaven’s Master who had thrown his son into the Death Ground, had returned to Tae-sa-ui.
Soft rustling.
Muk Woo-myeong slowly opened his eyes.
A subtle smile played faintly at the corners of his mouth.
“Has he made the Resentment Aura truly his own.”
The Geuk-won-ho-sin-gong was the culmination of all the martial arts that the giant known as Muk Woo-myeong, one of Heaven’s Three Masters, had accumulated over a lifetime of practice.
He had certainly observed the signs and recited the secrets, yet he’d thought mastery would require no fewer than several years of cultivation.
But his youngest son had again defied expectations with his progress.
A faint gleam of interest surfaced on Muk Woo-myeong’s face as he gazed into empty space with inscrutable eyes.
Extraordinary.
Even by the standards of Muk Woo-myeong—one who had transcended the boundaries of humanity itself—Muk Yeo-jin deserved such an assessment.
“Mm.”
The Heaven’s Master pondered something for a moment.
Then.
“The White Wolf General Ju Gok comes at the Heaven’s Master’s summons.”
Snap.
Ju Gok, bowing with measured courtesy, felt a deep unease stirring within him.
He could not recall the last time the Heaven’s Master had summoned him directly.
What on earth was about to unfold?
“White Wolf Commander.”
“Yes, Heaven’s Master.”
“When is the Geom-gung-ju’s inauguration banquet?”
“If I am not mistaken, it is to be held ten days hence, sir.”
“The scale?”
“According to our information, it will be a modest affair, attended only by those within Geom-gung and their retainers, sir.”
Muk Woo-myeong nodded slowly.
“Expand it.”
Ju Gok’s composure wavered for a moment.
“Pardon? I… understand, sir. How large, if I may ask?”
“All of Jungwon. Send word to every secret faction within Hyeon-gwon-gak, and have invitations scattered across all of Jungwon.”
This was how the most magnificent banquet in the history of Tae-sa-ui came to be held.

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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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