Return of the God of War - Chapter 55

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

Episode 55. Do Not Hide It Away
Whoosh! A sharp, piercing cry!
The heavy sound of a blow tearing through the air.
“Ungh!”
A stifled groan burst from his lips.
He tried desperately to endure the pain, but the strike had landed directly on the Danzhong Acupoint, just above the xiphoid process.
If Internal Force had been channeled into that blow, it would have been fatal—a critical point that could steal a man’s life.
Jang Hyu had no choice but to lose consciousness, his eyes rolling back.
Thud.
The referee officiating the match cried out in a loud voice.
“Victory to Muk Yeojin!”
The assembled warlords cheered, their voices rising in chorus as they called out the name Muk Yeojin, known also as Sonaćhal.
No one had imagined that he could fell Jang Hyu, the Three-Thunder Sword who had been counted among the favorites to win this Cheolheol Arena tournament, in a mere five exchanges.
“Ah… that Single Fist Strike he unleashed with a leftward extension just now—it was truly magnificent. I could scarcely trust my own eyes.”
“Not even past his twenties, you say? As a martial talent, he stands foremost among all the Cheonju’s children.”
“Had he been born but fifteen years earlier, the seat of the next Cheonju would surely have been his. A pity, truly.”
“Well, the Crown Prince and the Second Princess have such a solid foundation that it would be difficult for Prince Yeojin to establish his own position.”
“That may be so, but it is plain to see that he will become a martial master who leaves a great mark upon this Jianghu.”
“And one never knows—there is talk circulating that the Cheonju held this great banquet and the Cheolheol Arena tournament as a stage to make the name of Prince Yeojin known.”
“If that is truly the case, it would seem the Cheonju is quietly favoring his youngest son. We must be careful to read the situation rightly and choose our allegiances wisely.”
The people gathered here were like small fishing boats following the great vessel known as Sadocheon.
Even the minor waves caused by a careening flagship could capsize a smaller vessel.
Should they misjudge direction and collide, the consequences need not be stated.
Thus they had no choice but to take great pains to discern where the flagship’s rudder pointed and what transpired within its halls.
It was the reason the warlords could not simply enjoy this spectacle with ease of mind.
And.
Muk Yeojin himself found himself in some agreement with their assessment.
‘Father has certainly taken an interest in me.’
Otherwise, why would he have revealed to him the secret formulas of the Extreme Yuan Protective Body Art?
These proceedings too must serve the same purpose.
Though he had harbored doubts at first, now he was certain.
This grand tableau—the great banquet and the Cheolheol Arena tournament.
‘Father has orchestrated it all as a stage to make my name known throughout Cheonha.’
But.
Cheonju Muk Umyeong.
Would he truly have arranged such an occasion merely out of affectionate paternal love, to make his son’s name known to all?
Muk Yeojin harbored no such illusions.
‘Father wishes for me to step into the true battlefield of the struggle for hegemony.’
Where there is gain, loss must inevitably follow.
The more his name spread, the more surely he would become an object of vigilance to his brothers vying for supreme power and to other factions.
‘Or perhaps they already regard me as a rival.’
The evidence lay in the fact that neither his siblings nor the leading figures of the major factions—powerful princes and lords—had shown their faces at this gathering.
‘In any case, this event has brought my reputation soaring to the heavens, that much is certain.’
When gain and loss were so clearly defined, the wise course was to seize all the gain one could.
Muk Yeojin was determined to engrave his name deeply into the minds of all those assembled here.
As he descended from the arena, many rushed forward to offer their congratulations.
“My felicitations, Prince Yeojin.”
“My gratitude.”
Human connections were uncertain things—one could never predict how fortune might turn.
Any of these people might prove of aid to him at some unforeseen moment.
Muk Yeojin received each of them with sincere courtesy.
But his time thus engaged was brief.
Muk Yeojin soon slipped from the arena.
On any other day, he would have remained to observe the matches of other martial masters, but today it was impossible.
Press.
Muk Yeojin pressed firmly on his right side abdomen.
“Cough. Spit.”
The blood he expelled appeared distinctly dark.
“Hah…”
Now that he had expelled the blood stasis accumulated near his liver, his body felt lighter at last.
‘I overdid it yesterday, didn’t I.’
Facing Cheon Hwarin in a Berserker State was no trivial matter, even for him.
Thanks to his strengthened body completed by the Extreme Yuan Protective Body Art and the Mountain King Technique, he’d escaped with only minor internal injuries and bruising.
Had it been otherwise, he might well be hovering at death’s door by now.
Whoooosh.
Muk Yeojin circulated his Naegong, conducting a deep examination of his interior.
‘To fully recover my body’s condition… I’ll need at least ten days.’
Trained martial artists possessed naturally vigorous metabolisms, granting them a level of recovery that ordinary people could scarcely imagine.
Thus, healing internal and external wounds of this magnitude should ordinarily take only a day or two.
Yet there was one domain that remained equal to all—warrior and farmer, man and woman alike.
Innate Qi.
The problem lay in having drawn upon that Innate Qi during last night’s clash with Cheon Hwarin.
‘There was no helping it.’
In that situation, he’d had no luxury to consider efficiency or method.
Rather than parcel it out carefully, he’d poured forth his Naegong as though overturning a well entire, spilling everything within.
At the end, he’d been forced to wring out even his life force—pushed to the absolute limit.
‘It’s not so dire that I need convalescence, yet with this body, facing the Lady again would have been reckless. At least that much is fortunate.’
Cheon Hwarin had withdrawn from this tournament at the Cheolheol Arena and departed Sadocheon, citing an urgent matter.
For the various powers who had inwardly anticipated a final confrontation between Muk Yeojin and Cheon Hwarin, it was a genuine disappointment.
‘She’s likely attending to matters concerning Guiyeong’s circumstances.’
A Special Grade Spy of the Jeongdo Murim Alliance.
Should she now act as a double agent, having fully become Cheon Hwarin’s person, it would prove rather devastating to the Murim Alliance.
‘But given the Lady’s nature, she wouldn’t impose such a dangerous burden on Guiyeong.’
Rather, she would sever Guiyeong’s ties to the Murim Alliance and the True Dragon Chamber completely.
‘Because the Lady wanted to grant Guiyeong true freedom.’
Such concerns lingered, but if it was Cheon Hwarin, she would manage it well.
As he was walking toward his quarters with such thoughts, it happened.
Whoosh.
Thunk.
A luxurious Golden Pouch, meticulously embroidered with golden thread, flew into his embrace.
Muk Yeojin caught it reflexively.
He turned his head sharply toward the direction the pouch had come from.
There stood Cheon Hwarin, whom he’d thought already departed, leaning against a tree trunk.
Muk Yeojin looked between the pouch and Cheon Hwarin’s face before speaking.
“… Poison?”
Cheon Hwarin nodded.
“That’s right. Formless Poison. Take it and drop dead.”
Muk Yeojin chuckled and opened the pouch.
Inside lay a single round elixir, no larger than a fingernail.
It was clear at a glance that this was no ordinary medicinal pellet.
Cheon Hwarin promptly revealed its identity.
“It’s a Majo Pill.”
Muk Yeojin was taken aback.
A Majo Pill.
A peerless Spiritual Medicine that even the Heavenly Demon Divine Sect could only refine once every several years.
A spiritual elixir forged by concentrating demonic essence to its limit—to one trained in Demonic Cultivation, it was a treasure rivaling Shaolin’s prized Great Restoration Pill.
If Muk Yeojin, who had not studied Demonic Cultivation, consumed it, its efficacy would be halved.
Yet even the medicinal potency remaining after accounting for the demonic essence was precious enough to replenish his depleted Innate Qi with room to spare.
“You came back deliberately just to give me this?”
“Don’t misunderstand.”
Cheon Hwarin said.
“I’m giving it to you so you won’t blame me if you lose the remaining matches like an idiot.”
Whatever her reason, there was nothing for Muk Yeojin to lose.
“I accept gratefully.”
As he placed the Golden Pouch into his embrace without hesitation, Cheon Hwarin’s eyes gleamed with meaning.
“What if I’d actually laced it with poison?”
“You’re not the type to commit such a contemptible act, Lady Sect Leader.”
For a moment, Cheon Hwarin’s expression grew peculiar.
Between what had transpired in Cheonghai and last night’s duel with Muk Yeojin, she was now certain: this man knew of the Mugong she wielded. In considerable detail.
That realization settled upon her like a weight.
That’s a problem in itself.
But what gnawed at her more was something in his behavior.
‘It’s as if he sees right through me — knows exactly who I am.’
What on earth is he?
Cheon Hwarin, who had been watching Muk Yeojin in silence, suddenly spun around.
“I’m withdrawing for now. But don’t think this is the end.”
“Of course not. I don’t believe my connection with the Sect Leader ends here either.”
“……You’re a strange one.”
The moment she was about to deploy her Lightness Technique—
Muk Yeojin called out to stop her.
“Sect Leader.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t hide it away.”
Cheon Hwarin tilted her head at those cryptic words.
“Hide what?”
“Your heart. Don’t hide your feelings from those around you. Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you — if you don’t speak these things aloud, even someone you’ve kept close for years may never truly know what’s in your heart.”
“…….”
For a moment, Cheon Hwarin’s eyes wavered almost imperceptibly.
The flicker of remembrance, as if someone had come to mind.
It could have been Guiyeong, or her father. Or perhaps some other loved one Muk Yeojin didn’t know about.
“…….”
Cheon Hwarin’s body stiffened.
She’d caught herself turning over his words, chewing on them deeply.
‘Why am I dwelling on something he said like this?’
The truth was—
what he’d just spoken were words that pre-regression Cheon Hwarin had once said to Muk Yeojin.
The realization struck her suddenly.
Perhaps she had wanted to tell her past self these very words.
And now,
she was judging those words she herself had spoken.
“……To carry such shallow sentimentality while living in this cold, merciless realm. You won’t last long.”
Before her words even finished, Cheon Hwarin shot skyward into the distance.
Even after she’d vanished from sight, Muk Yeojin gazed up at that sky for a long while.
* * *
Gulp, gulp.
She drained two bowls of water so cold it made her teeth ache, and only then did her mind feel even slightly clearer.
“Is anyone there?”
Hye Rangyeong’s frail voice barely crossed the threshold — she’d grown gaunt and unrecognizable over these past months.
“Yes! Yes, I’m here, my lady.”
Jeong Yeo, the head attendant who’d been waiting, quickly opened the door and responded.
“Where is Byeongho now?”
“Young Master Muk Byeongho is currently in the training grounds with Master Pi Yangcheon, I believe.”
“The training grounds…… I see. Help me there. Support me a bit.”
“Yes, my lady!”
With Jeong Yeo’s assistance, Hye Rangyeong slowly made her way out of her quarters and toward the training grounds, moving with visible difficulty.
Loud voices echoed from inside the grounds, audible from thirty paces away at the entrance.
When Hye Rangyeong reached the training grounds entrance, she peered carefully through a side door.
There stood her son, Muk Byeongho, battered from head to toe, receiving instruction from Pi Yangcheon.
Bang!
Crash!
“Your lower stance is collapsing!”
Thud!
“Ugh…… I’m, I’m sorry!”
“Again!”
“Yes, yes! I’m ready!”
Hye Rangyeong watched without a word.
Each time her son flew back from one of Pi Yangcheon’s strikes, her own body flinched with him — yet she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop.
Because her son, the one truly enduring it, never gave up and rose again each time.
She understood it only now.
That her son possessed eyes so clear and unyielding.
Hye Rangyeong murmured softly, her voice tinged with self-mockery.
“…… I have truly been an inadequate mother.”
“That is indeed so.”
Hye Rangyeong glanced sideways.
She had not expected Jeong Yeo to agree so readily.
In the old days, she would have lashed out at such an answer, but now she found herself laughing softly instead.
Thinking about it, her bond with Jeong Yeo stretched back a long way.
They had been together since the days of the Namcheon Main House—more than thirty years had passed without either of them noticing.
There had been a time when Jeong Yeo had managed the household affairs entirely on his own.
‘It seems I once had peace of mind. When did that change……?’
When had she begun to turn her eyes toward the Desire for Power and greed?
A single face surfaced in her thoughts.
‘Yes, it was after Gyeom Chonggwan appeared.’
Yet every choice had been hers alone.
There was no reason to blame him.
Now that she thought of it.
“Where has Gyeom Chonggwan gone?”
“He has not been seen for quite some time now.”
“Is that so?”
“I shall send someone to search for him.”
Hye Rangyeong, who had been lost in thought for a moment, shook her head.
“……There is no need for that. He is likely occupied with his duties on behalf of an incompetent mistress.”
She cast one final glance across the training ground, then turned her body slowly away.
“I believe I should venture out for a time. Would you be able to assist me?”
Jeong Yeo answered quietly, a faint smile playing at his lips.
“Of course, madam.”

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