Return of the God of War - Chapter 6
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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 6 — She Would Surely Come to Regret It
The commotion that shook all of Nae Won drew the servants scrambling to the center in panic.
Five burly men in black martial robes stood there with contemptuous smiles, their posture arrogant and loose.
Beside them lay the main gate of Nae Won, crushed half-flat and scattered.
That deafening crash from moments before had come from these men smashing through the gate as they forced their way in.
A guard who had rushed out hurriedly shouted.
“Who in blazes are you?”
At that, as if he had been waiting for exactly this, the leader of the intruders — a man named Bang Byeong-il — flicked his eyes wide open.
“What? Did you just call us ‘you’?! How dare you show such contempt to us, who have come bearing Lady Hae Rang-yeong’s words!! You have rolled courtesy into your breakfast and swallowed it whole, haven’t you!”
The guard was incredulous.
“Men who smash through doors unannounced speak of courtesy? What mockery is this!”
“Silence! For a subordinate to be so insolent — I may just have to demand an apology from your master.”
Only then did the guard understand that these men had come looking for a quarrel from the very start.
‘So the mistress suffered a great setback today because of the young master Muk Yeo-jin. To think they would resort to such petty wickedness.’
Every instinct urged him to draw his blade at once, but the aura these men gave off was unmistakable.
He hesitated, fearing that any rash move on his part might escalate the situation beyond repair.
Then it came.
“Do you not know who resides here, that you would dare make such a scene?”
A sharp voice rang out from the inner chamber.
Everyone gathered in Nae Won turned their heads toward the inner quarters.
A refined woman with her hair pinned up swept forward with long, purposeful strides.
It was Pyo Yeon, the personal attendant of Namgung Ryeong-ryeong.
Without the slightest hesitation, Pyo Yeon placed herself before Bang Byeong-il and his men.
“Lady Namgung and Young Master Muk Yeo-jin have no time to waste on uninvited guests, so if you would kindly leave….”
Crack!
Before Pyo Yeon could finish speaking, Bang Byeong-il struck her cheek.
“As master, so servant — these presumptuous fools truly do swarm about. One would never believe they were taught their place.”
Pyo Yeon’s head, which had twisted to the left from the blow, snapped back to face forward, her eyes fixed on Bang Byeong-il.
What happened to her own body mattered little.
But she could not abide anyone who dared insult her lady.
Bang Byeong-il’s eyebrows twitched.
“Oh? Let us see whether this impudent wench can still look at me with those eyes in a short while.”
Whoosh!
Just as Bang Byeong-il’s palm — broad as a pot lid — was about to strike Pyo Yeon’s cheek again,
“Just who do you think you are laying hands upon?”
The air itself seemed to freeze at that glacial voice, and Bang Byeong-il along with everyone present shuddered.
When they turned their heads, a sharp-featured woman draped in a blue silk robe was approaching slowly.
“Madam!”
It was Namgung Ryeong-ryeong.
Bang Byeong-il was shaken by the Qi Wave radiating from her.
He had heard in passing that she had once walked the Martial Way and was a female warrior of some standing, but that it had been nearly twenty years since she set down her sword.
‘Yet what is this ferocious aura emanating from her?’
The power flowing from her was scarcely inferior, by its very force, to that of the elite warriors of Sadocheon.
Gulp.
His breath caught in his throat, but Bang Byeong-il quickly steadied himself.
‘The Lady Namgung cannot touch me after all.’
Behind him stood Lady Hae Rang-yeong, who had already formed a formidable faction within Sadocheon, whereas Namgung Ryeong-ryeong was like a kite whose string had been cut.
‘She knows that if she lays a hand on us, harm will come to her own son, which is why she has kept silent through all our wickedness thus far.’
With that thought, his heart settled.
Bang Byeong-il forced an easy smile, his mouth twisting with derision.
“Ha! It seems the Lady’s servants lacked in courtesy, so I offered them some instruction, and my feelings got the better of me. Please forgive this rudeness.”
But he had not the faintest idea.
Mere moments before.
Muk Yeo-jin had shattered a portion of the chains that had bound her until now.
“That hand? The hand that touched Pyo Yeon?”
“I beg your pardon? What do you mean…”
Boom!
Bang Byeong-il’s words died unfinished.
A sickening crack.
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong, moving at a speed his eyes could not follow, seized Bang Byeong-il by the throat with a single hand and lifted him clean off the ground.
“Ughhhh!”
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong wrapped her remaining hand around Bang Byeong-il’s left wrist, squeezing gently.
“So this is the hand.”
Crack-crack-crack!
“Aaaahhhhh!!”
As Namgung Ryeong-ryeong tightened her grip, the sound of dry leaves shattering echoed from below Bang Byeong-il’s wrist.
From this moment forward, he would never hold a spoon properly with that hand again.
“L-leader!”
Bang Byeong-il’s subordinates started in alarm and instinctively reached for the swords at their waists.
But Namgung Ryeong-ryeong’s cold voice cut through the air once more.
“Go ahead. Try drawing.”
Hiss.
A killing intent so palpable it made the hair on their necks stand on end radiated from her.
They had just watched their leader become crippled before their eyes.
Unless they were fools, they understood what that meant.
‘Draw and you die.’
Their leader couldn’t even use his hands, and he’d suffered that fate—what hope did they have?
But if they retreated now, that hot-blooded Hae Rang-yeong would never forgive them for returning defeated and humiliated.
They were trapped between a rock and a hard place.
As they stood there, shifting their weight from foot to foot in desperate search of a way to survive, a shadow descended before them.
Whoosh.
A single silhouette landed in their midst.
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong felt her presence first.
The moment the icy-blue Sa-bok Sword—the weapon that symbolized her—came into view, even Namgung Ryeong-ryeong could not help but tense.
“The Jeokrang Daejoo…”
Stripped of her position earlier today, she was now the former Jeokrang Daejoo—the eldest daughter of Hae Rang-yeong.
Muk I-yeon.
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong clenched her teeth.
‘If even the Jeokrang Daejoo has come, then that woman Hae Rang-yeong is serious this time.’
In her active years, it might have been manageable, but the years since she stopped training had been far too long.
With her deteriorated skills now, there was no conceivable way she could match a martial master of Daejoo rank.
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong’s mind raced.
‘No matter what they do, they won’t harm Yeo-jin or me.’
The eyes and ears of the Sadocheon Master were scattered throughout this Mangdam Jeon.
This very moment was surely being watched from somewhere.
If Muk I-yeon overstepped that line, they would intervene.
But servants were not included in that protection.
Killing a few handmaids including Pyo Yeon, a few escort guards—Sadocheon was not so soft as to make an issue of that.
Though Muk Yeo-jin had not intended it, his actions had cost Muk I-yeon her position as Daejoo today.
If she harbored resentment and struck now, this place would become a sea of blood.
‘Damn it.’
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong bitterly resented the version of herself who had set down her sword all those years ago.
As she searched for a way out while concealing her urgency, Muk I-yeon remained standing in silent stillness, exactly as she had appeared.
A breathless moment stretched, as if time itself had frozen.
In that silence where no one dared draw breath, a small figure—no taller than Muk I-yeon’s shoulder—slipped past and walked forward.
It was Muk Yeo-jin.
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong started in shock and tried to call him back.
“Yeo-jin!”
“It’s all right, Mother.”
All right? What could possibly be all right?
Before she could protest further, Muk Yeo-jin approached the Jeokrang Daejoo.
In an instant, the distance between them closed to barely a zhang.
Muk Yeo-jin took in the figure of the former Jeokrang Daejoo, Muk I-yeon.
An expression so devoid of emotion it seemed almost inhuman.
The subtle, unsettling aura that emanated from him made anyone seeing him for the first time instinctively recoil.
But in Muk I-yeon’s gaze as she looked at Muk Yeo-jin, there was a glimmer of feeling.
It was curiosity.
‘What does he mean to say?’
A plea? An appeal? A threat?
What drove him to step so boldly into her range without the slightest hesitation?
Muk I-yeon gauged the intentions of her half-brother.
But it proved to be an exercise in futility.
What tumbled from Muk Yeo-jin’s mouth shattered her expectations entirely.
“If you’ve come to clean up these fools, then hurry and take them away—why are you setting the mood like this, Sister?”
Muk I-yeon’s expressionless face twitched.
“…How did you know?”
The question meant: how had he discovered she’d come to help?
Muk Yeo-jin shrugged.
“You’re not weak enough to resort to such petty tricks, Sister.”
“…”
Muk I-yeon closed her mouth and stared at Muk Yeo-jin intently.
It was the same earlier in the day, and it remained true now.
She couldn’t predict a single thing that might come from that small mouth.
Yet separate from that bewilderment.
Tap. Tap.
Having studied Muk Yeo-jin silently, Muk I-yeon soon walked forward and bowed before Namgung Ryeong-ryeong.
“Please allow me to apologize on behalf of my mother. Would you release him for me?”
Namgung Ryeong-ryeong still had no idea how the situation had unfolded.
But a martial master of no less than Daejoo rank had bowed—she, too, had gained her face.
Slump.
Thud!
The moment she released her grip, Bang Byeong-il—unconscious with foam at his lips—crumpled to the floor.
“Thank you.”
With that, Muk I-yeon turned and ordered Bang Byeong-il’s subordinates.
“Take this wretch and disappear from here at once.”
Her voice was thick with Killing Intent.
“Yes… yes, ma’am!!”
Since it was the command of their master’s daughter Muk I-yeon, they would have plenty of excuse to offer Hae Rang-yeong.
They hoisted Bang Byeong-il and vanished from the premises in an instant.
After the storm passed, silence settled across the entire residence.
As everyone exchanged glances, wondering ‘Now what?’ and ‘Should we cheer?’, one person remained unperturbed.
Still perfectly at ease.
“Shall we go inside and have some tea, Sister?”
It was Muk Yeo-jin.
* * *
The Reception Hall of the residence.
Sip.
Muk Yeo-jin sipped his tea and cast a glance at the woman seated across from him.
‘Muk I-yeon.’
Unlike his younger brother Muk Byeong-ho, she was a martial artist of genuine talent—having ascended to the position of Daejoo of Sadocheon at merely twenty-four years old.
Moreover, unlike her mother and brother, she was neither base nor corrupt, but possessed a steadfast character.
Before the Regression, Muk I-yeon was the one family member Muk Yeo-jin had harbored something approaching affection for.
Meanwhile, Muk I-yeon was deeply flustered.
Her exceptional martial prowess had shown itself from childhood.
Combined with her forbidding demeanor, few within Sadocheon treated her casually—she could count them on one hand.
Even her mother, Hae Rang-yeong, watched her carefully and spoke with deliberation.
Yet why did this small child treat her with such ease? When had he ever seen her?
“Why do you make that face, Sister? The privy is over there.”
“…”
After a long silence staring at Muk Yeo-jin, Muk I-yeon finally spoke.
“Just now… were you not afraid? If I had harbored malice, the outcome would have been different.”
“Then you would have regretted it, Sister.”
Muk Yeo-jin said it matter-of-factly.
At those words, Muk I-yeon’s demeanor sharpened slightly.
“Regret? Me? Your mother’s martial skill was stronger than expected, but in her current state—having abandoned the Way for so long—she was no match for me.”
“Not because of her, but because of me, you would have regretted it, Sister.”
“What?”
Sip.
Only the sound of Muk Yeo-jin drinking his tea filled the room for a moment.
Muk I-yeon’s gaze, which had been emanating a cold pressure, drifted downward, and then a light smirk crossed her lips.
“Can hands so delicate—hands that have never once gripped a sword—truly make me regret? Is that what you’re saying?”
“It would be impossible now, I suppose…….”
Click.
Muk Yeo-jin set down his teacup with deliberate care.
In the same instant, his eyes ignited.
“But in five years’ time—what then? Will you still find me manageable at that point? Sister?”
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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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