Return of the God of War - Chapter 56

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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 56. Such a Simple Word
The Small Iron Blood Arena, convened without fanfare, was drawing rapidly toward its conclusion.
In Group A, when Cheon Hwarin forfeited, Pyeong Cheol—known for his Break Stone Kick—became the first to advance to the semifinals as the champion of his group.
In Group B, Muk Yeojin faced Jo Cheoljoo, a wanderer of some reputation from the Shandong region.
He had never been a true match for Muk Yeojin.
But now that Muk Yeojin had ingested the Marrow-Setting Pill the night before and fully restored his Innate True Qi, his victory in the duel was inevitable.
As Muk Yeojin descended from the duel platform amid the crowd’s acclaim, Nangung Yeongryeong came to meet him.
“That was an excellent Sword Form. Your blade feels sharper still.”
“No, madam. I have far yet to go.”
It was not mere courtesy—it was genuine.
The words rose from a heart that truly felt its own insufficiency.
Nangung Yeongryeong found her son’s calm composure newly striking.
He had left his childhood years behind, though he was not yet of an age to have shed all his youthful impetuousness.
Of late, many had whispered that he was foremost among the followers of Huekdo, even speaking of him as a serious contender for supremacy across all the Jianghu.
His shoulders might well have risen with such praise—yet her son showed not the slightest sign of it.
As a mother, she took pride and joy in such steadiness, yet at the same time a part of her felt a quiet sorrow—that wisdom had come to him far too early.
Nangung Yeongryeong gazed at her son for a moment, then reached out and tapped his shoulder gently.
“If ever the burden grows too heavy, come to your mother. Indulge me a little.”
At his mother’s words, Muk Yeojin’s breath caught.
How strange—such a simple word, yet how it strengthened him.
A faint smile touched Muk Yeojin’s lips.
“Promise you won’t chase me away later, saying you’re tired of it.”
At his teasing, Nangung Yeongryeong let out a soft laugh.
It was then.
The crowd near the arena’s entrance began to stir.
Turning his head, Muk Yeojin saw Muk Byeongho entering the hall with a stern expression.
He too, though not quite on the level of Muk Yeojin, had drawn considerable attention throughout the tournament.
Yet the real reason so many eyes had turned to him was something else entirely.
Walking beside Muk Byeongho was none other than Pi Yangcheon, the Master Swordsman of Plum Blossom.
The murmur spread through the entire arena in an instant.
“Wasn’t the Master Swordsman supposed to have become So Nachwal’s teacher?”
“That’s what I understood as well.”
“Then why is he walking with someone else entirely? He doesn’t even spare a glance for his disciple, Muk Yeojin.”
“Could there have been a rift in their Master-Disciple Relationship?”
Such is the way of those who dwell in the Jianghu.
Whether a threshold was crossed with the left foot or the right.
Whether a sword hilt was worn on the left side or the right.
Whether one wore Black Clothes or White Clothes.
They are inclined to read meaning into the smallest detail.
In this moment, whispered speculation was perhaps inevitable.
Muk Yeojin glanced at his mother.
He worried she might be troubled by such idle gossip, but to his surprise, Nangung Yeongryeong’s expression showed no concern whatsoever.
“Why don’t you ask me anything?”
Nangung Yeongryeong replied calmly.
“I trust you will do what’s right.”
Muk Yeojin’s eyes widened.
‘She really can lift and lower a man’s heart with just a word or two.’
Shortly after.
Just as Muk Byeongho was about to ascend the duel platform for the final match of Group B, the doors creaked open and a group of perhaps five or six entered.
Seeing the figure at the head of their procession, even Muk Yeojin could not hide his surprise.
Unlike before, she wore no gaudy finery—only simple, unadorned clothing.
Yet within that simplicity, her inherent dignity shone all the more clearly.
Hye Rangyeong.
Step. Step.
Hye Rangyeong walked forward without hesitation, and those who recognized her silently parted to let her pass.
At last she reached the spot before Nangung Yeongryeong.
In Hye Rangyeong’s eyes as she looked at Nangung Yeongryeong, a complex emotion flickered briefly.
But only briefly; soon her face softened into a smile as she bowed first.
“Hye Rangyeong of the Hye House pays her respects to the Gungju.”

Muk Yeojin studied his mother’s expression.
Truth be told, Muk Yeojin harbored no love for Hye Rangyeong either.
Yet it was none other than his mother, Nangung Yeongryeong, who had quietly endured Hye Rangyeong’s persecution all this time.
Now the positions had reversed entirely.
It would be no wonder if Nangung Yeongryeong chose to humiliate her in this moment.
Hye Rangyeong had braced herself for precisely that.
But Nangung Yeongryeong’s response departed entirely from her expectations.
Regarding her quietly, Nangung Yeongryeong smiled with warmth and spoke.
“Welcome, Lady Hye. Your son’s martial duel shall begin shortly—please feel at ease and watch.”
Hye Rangyeong froze, unable to lift her head.
She had come here steeling herself for cold indifference, even insult—yet what greeted her was genuine hospitality.
Hye Rangyeong’s laugh came out bitter.
‘How different we are. That woman and I—the very vessel that contains us is not the same.’
Lifting her head quietly, Hye Rangyeong spoke.
“My thanks, Gungju.”
She moved then to her son’s side, to Muk Byeongho.
Muk Byeongho, who had not expected his mother to come, trembled with surprise.
“Mother! I—I shall surely win and prove myself worthy to you.”
In that moment, Muk Byeongho heard his mother’s voice—so gentle, after so long.
“Byeongho, my son…”
Hye Rangyeong gazed upon her child, grown so tall she now had to lift her head to meet his eyes. Her own eyes brimmed with remorse.
“When did you grow so tall?”
Muk Byeongho did not know what to say in the face of his mother’s sudden tenderness.
Hye Rangyeong reached out and gently stroked his shoulder.
“Once the tournament ends, let’s share a meal together—the three of us, you and I and Yeon.”
Muk Byeongho stared at her dumbly for a moment, then nodded with vigor.
“Yes, Mother!”
He turned at once toward the dueling ground.
Hye Rangyeong sat silently beside Pi Yangcheon.
“Thank you, Elder. Now I begin to understand what you meant—that even a sparrow has its own way of doing things.”
Pi Yangcheon did not so much as glance her way, merely clicked his tongue.
“Next time you fall into wine and flounder about, I’ll shave every hair from your head and send it to the Hye House.”
At that, Hye Rangyeong let out a light laugh.
That day, Muk Byeongho displayed skill beyond measure.
His blade moved with fierce strength and keen sharpness, piercing his opponent’s vital points.
Unlike Muk Yeojin’s overwhelming dominance, he did not dazzle with flashy superiority—yet his relentless fighting spirit left an even deeper impression.
Amid roaring cheers like a torrent of flame, Muk Byeongho advanced boldly into the Small Iron Blood Arena semifinals.
* * *
As Hye Rangyeong entered the administrative office, she released a long sigh.
Wine bottles lay scattered across the desk and across the floor.
The room was utter chaos.
Every single bottle had been emptied by her own hand.
“They say there’s one called the Drunken Demon in Liaoning. I imagine his chamber looks just like this.”
The hour had grown late into the night.
Deeming it too late to tidy the room properly, she swept the bottles aside with her foot and collapsed into a chair.
She opened some ledger that came to hand, yet the characters would not enter her eyes.
Her son’s martial duel from earlier in the day kept returning to her mind.
Her son, Muk Byeongho, had faced an opponent of no small measure.
Yet even as he was struck down and fell, he never surrendered.
He clenched his teeth and rose again, until at last he grasped victory.
‘Rise Eight Times After Falling Seven,’ she thought.
Hye Rangyeong felt her face flush without her intending it.
She was ashamed—ashamed of herself, lesser than her own son who had barely entered manhood.
Her gaze, which had been fixed on empty space, suddenly kindled with clarity.
‘Yes. I can begin again.’
But this time, it was not for the sake of petty power struggles.
It was to become a mother her children need not be ashamed of, and a mistress her loyal servants like Jeong Yeo could take pride in.
With her resolve hardened, Hye Rangyeong bent her attention to the ledgers.
Having already fallen once, to turn one’s eyes outward would be foolish.
She would rebuild from within, piece by piece, setting each beam back in place with her own hands.
She had scarcely begun reviewing the documents from the businesses she’d been managing when something caught her eye.
Hye Rangyeong’s brow furrowed.
‘Funds are leaking out?’
At first she’d been uncertain, but cross-referencing against other ledgers confirmed her suspicion.
Traces of manipulation—layered three, four times over with deliberate subtlety.
‘Especially the Chongqing and Hunan territories…… all of them under Gyeom Chonggwan’s management.’
Hye Rangyeong’s eyes deepened.
In even the most meticulously crafted ledgers, some thirty percent of truth inevitably surfaces.
‘So if funds have drained away, there must be a place where they’ve flowed.’
She was still turning through page after page of the vast collection of accounts when it happened.
“My lady, the Chamberlain is here.”
It was Gyeom Chonggwan’s voice.
Hye Rangyeong hesitated, lost in thought.
She could simply demand an explanation about these ledgers now that he’d arrived, but her instincts sent out a warning.
She shouldn’t do it.
After a brief moment of consideration, she overturned the ledgers before her, scattering them across the floor in disarray.
Then she picked up one of the empty wine bottles lying about and drained the last of its contents in a single gulp.
No matter how much she drank, Hye Rangyeong remained weak to alcohol.
Her face flushed crimson in an instant, and she spoke with deliberate looseness in her voice.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Gyeom Chonggwan entered.
In that fleeting moment, Hye Rangyeong saw it.
A thin, bitter smile playing across his face—an expression she’d never seen from him in all the time she’d known him.
Gyeom Chonggwan quickly erased the smirk and approached with apparent concern.
“My lady, are you drinking again?! If you continue like this, you’ll truly damage your health.”
Hye Rangyeong was inwardly tense, but she kept her composure, responding as naturally as she could manage.
“Spare me the unnecessary lectures. My head’s already complicated enough as it is. But where have you been these past few days? I haven’t seen you about.”
Gyeom Chonggwan smiled warmly and set down a small box.
“What is this?”
“A Spirit Pill, my lady.”
“A Spirit Pill?”
When Hye Rangyeong opened the box, a single reddish pellet caught her eye.
“Young Master Muk Byeongho has been accomplishing great deeds of late, so I thought to contribute in whatever small way I could. I traveled all the way to Gansu myself to procure this for him.”
Hye Rangyeong studied Gyeom Chonggwan carefully.
Gyeom Chonggwan was capable enough, but his temperament was typically reserved, and he was not one to take the lead in matters.
Yet here he was, vanishing without word for days on end, returning with this precious Spirit Pill?
Was he making amends now that she’d discovered his embezzlement?
The whole thing felt deeply unsettling.
Hye Rangyeong hesitated for a moment, but refusing the Spirit Pill he’d gone to such trouble to obtain would look odd.
In the end, she accepted the box with studied nonchalance.
“I’m grateful, Gyeom Chonggwan.”
Gyeom Chonggwan bowed his head.
“Shall I have more wine brought to you?”
“…Yes, do that.”
“Of course, my lady.”
With those words, Gyeom Chonggwan hurried from the room.
Once the door closed behind him and he was gone, Hye Rangyeong sat in silence, her gaze fixed on that door for a long while.

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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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