Return of the God of War - Chapter 65

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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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Chapter 65. Come to See How My Fish Are Doing
The eyebrow of Cheonju Muk Umyeong twitched slightly.
“Father, then…… Unexpected, indeed.”
What could be unexpected about it?
Muk Yeojin grasped it at once.
Since his Regression, he had never used the word “father” even once when facing his father.
‘Or perhaps not even before the Regression?’
It did seem that way.
But that had been unavoidable.
In those days, when he was nothing but weak, the figure known as the Sadocheon Cheonju was utterly beyond reach—a god itself.
But now?
‘What god? We’re all just the same.’
The monster of Cheonwaecheon who could overturn the earth and cleave mountains with a single gesture.
The head of the Woneum Sect.
Once their necks were severed, they all went the same way to death.
No matter how high a man of strength might climb, in the end they were all merely human, nothing more.
The reason Muk Yeojin had not called him father all this time was simply because there had been no place to do so.
‘We’ve only met in official settings, after all.’
This was no melodramatic novel steeped in the pathos of a bastard’s suffering. There was no reason at all not to call his father by that name.
In this moment, Muk Yeojin had no reason to shrink back.
Shhhhh.
In the instant of facing his father, his breath, which had been stirred by tension, gradually settled.
Presently he offered a bow with dignity.
“I pay my respects, Cheonju.”
Muk Umyeong’s eyes flashed as he sensed the bearing in Muk Yeojin.
“Amusing.”
What might be amusing about it, he couldn’t say, but what mattered now to Muk Yeojin was not such things.
‘He’s not a tender father come calling for a meal together.’
There must be a reason substantial enough to have him take these steps in person.
Muk Yeojin weighed what his sudden visit might signify and opened his mouth.
“To what purpose do you grace us with your presence, sir?”
Silence hung for a moment.
Then Muk Umyeong clasped his hands behind his back and spoke at leisure.
“Hmm, by rights I ought to claim a limb or two, but I shall grant you a reprieve.”
It was an abrupt and menacing threat, yet Muk Yeojin’s expression betrayed no wavering.
“Recklessness born from awareness of one’s own fault differs greatly from Rash Valor wielded in ignorance. Both exact a price, but the magnitude will be as the difference between heaven and earth.”
That is to say:
‘If you cannot confess what wrong you have committed, then arm or leg—I shall sever it.’
This would be the truth.
There was no reason for the Sadocheon Cheonju to make false words and gestures in person.
‘A fault?’
Muk Yeojin found the thread in his father’s first utterance—”a reckless move.”
Moreover, it was something he had already considered before this affair had even begun, so there was no need for prolonged deliberation.
Thump.
At once Muk Yeojin brought one knee to the ground.
“My crime is that I dared challenge absolute authority.”
Precisely as he said.
Muk Yeojin had led the Geomgwi to meet Yeoungheonggak with force.
But it was none other than the Sadocheon Cheonju who had granted Yeoungheonggak its absolute power.
To oppress Yeoungheonggak was the same as raising a blade against the Cheonju.
In other words, what Muk Yeojin had done amounted to drawing his sword against the Sadocheon Cheonju himself.
“You’re not a complete fool, then.”
A response suggesting he had drawn near the correct answer.
Yet Muk Yeojin could find no relief.
Speak the right answer, and the price of Recklessness follows.
Speak the wrong answer, and the price of Rash Valor follows.
‘That was surely what you said.’
Either way, punishment could not be escaped.
Presently, Muk Umyeong dipped his index finger into a glass of water on the table and withdrew it.
And then.
“If you don’t want holes punched through your body, give it everything you have.”
Whoosh!
As the words left his lips, his finger cut through empty air.
A single water droplet, suspended at its tip, flew loose.
But it was no ordinary droplet.
That humble bead of water, infused with the power of one of the Three Heavenly Existences—Muk Umyeong himself—had transformed into a peerless projectile.
No time to deliberate.
Ring!
Muk Yeojin drew the Black Night Sword and pulled Cangqiong Qi forcefully to its peak.
He knew, on pure instinct.
‘This is not a move I can deflect or twist away from.’
I had to meet it head-on and destroy it.
The moment he judged, he raised the Black Night Sword overhead and brought it down like lightning.
Shrieeeeek!
The mightiest sword technique Muk Yeojin could unleash.
The Ultimate Fighting Divine Sword Fourth Form.
Nakyun.
And then.
Boom!
Impossibly, the sound of an explosion echoed out, shaking the entire building.
All from a sword clashing with a mere water droplet.
Moments later.
Hearing the thunderous crash, Muk Hyenam hurried through the guest room door.
“Yeojin! What happened?!”
The room was in complete disarray.
And there, in the corner.
Sprawled among shattered furniture—Muk Yeojin.
Battered and broken, he let out a hollow laugh.
“Nothing at all.”
* * *
During his confinement at Yeoungheonggak, Muk Yeojin had intended to rest, but found himself forced into recuperation instead.
And two days later.
Released from custody, Muk Yeojin sought out Pi Yangcheon.
“What brings you by so suddenly?”
“Checking on how my runaway fish is doing.”
Calling the legendary swordmaster Pi Yangcheon a fish, no less.
In Sadocheon—no, in all the Jianghu—who else could dare speak to him this way?
For Pi Yangcheon, it must have been a singular experience.
Yet strangely, instead of anger, he merely smiled faintly.
“Have you thrown in with the third son?”
“How did you know?”
“You wouldn’t have come back empty-handed after all that chaos.”
“You overestimate me, Master.”
“Better to overestimate than underestimate.”
A fair point.
Most disasters in this world begin when one underestimates their opponent.
“Forgive me.”
“For what?”
“For joining forces with the third brother without your permission, Master.”
“Does a stray fish in an aquarium get a say when the owner decides to add more fish?”
“A stray fish? Master, you’re the white whale who glides serenely through even the deepest waters as though they were your own domain.”
“White whale, my foot. Don’t flatter me with your silver tongue.”
Yet despite his words, Pi Yangcheon’s mood was clearly good, a subtle smile playing at his lips.
This is why a single, simple word matters so much in the bonds between people.
Muk Yeojin drew a bottle of wine from his robes and shook it.
“I stole this from Yeoungheonggak. Do you know Chwi Seon? He brewed it, and the fragrance is extraordinary.”
“Chwi Seon… So that old man is still drawing breath. He’s got a stubborn hold on life, doesn’t he?”
They climbed to the veranda and gazed at the night sky, drinking in companionable silence.
“Your taste hasn’t changed—the wine is as fine as ever, then as now.”
“You knew him well, it seems.”
“A chance meeting from years past. In his youth, even the Cheonju enjoyed the wine that man brewed.”
The youthful days of Muk Umyeong, one of the Three Heavenly Existences, were hardly an uninteresting subject.
“What was Father like when he was young?”
“A monster. While others crawled and walked and ran, he was already flying through the heavens.”
“I suppose he lacked warmth even then?”
“Do you truly believe your father to be cold-hearted, Cheonju?”
Muk Yeojin answered at once, a memory from days past flickering through his mind.
“I don’t think I’ve ever considered him affectionate.”
Pi Yangcheon’s mouth curved upward in a smile.
“Fair enough. He was never a warm man. Still, in his youth he possessed more compassion than he does now.”
Compassion—from a man who couldn’t even remember his own children’s names?
Muk Yeojin found the notion impossible to fathom.
In any case, the two men began draining their cups, trading stories back and forth.
They say that as one ages, one feeds on memories of the past.
Once Pi Yangcheon had opened the floodgates with tales from his youth, he proved unexpectedly garrulous, his words tumbling forth with ease.
Through his rambling accounts, Muk Yeojin came to understand that his connection to Muk Umyeong stretched back far longer than he’d realized.
“Is that truly so? Him, of all people?”
“Indeed. There’s never been such upheaval—never been chaos quite like that.”
A pleasant intoxication had crept in, and the atmosphere had grown languid and warm.
Rather than master and student, they resembled an affectionate grandfather and grandson sharing old stories in hushed, intimate tones.
Yet even as this harmonious moment unfolded,
Muk Yeojin’s mind remained cold and lucid.
A single question weighed upon his heart.
‘Could my teacher truly have no connection to the Woneum Sect?’
Within Sadocheon, he trusted no one save his mother, Nangung Yeongryeong.
Everyone else was an object of suspicion.
If forced to categorize them, they fell into two categories: suspect and less suspect.
Pi Yangcheon belonged to the latter.
There was a reason for this.
Before the Regression, on that day when Sadocheon crumbled beneath the assault of the Fire Demon,
Muk Yeojin had witnessed with his own eyes
Pi Yangcheon and the Geomgwi fighting against those vicious Woneum Sect members, perishing together in that conflagration.
Yet because he knew all too well the cunning ways of the Woneum Sect, Muk Yeojin had resolved to trust in nothing.
And so,
Muk Yeojin broached the subject with studied casualness, letting the question slip out as though by chance.
“Master, I’ve heard an intriguing rumor circulating in the streets lately. They say there’s some mysterious force in the shadows, plotting to swallow all of Zhongyuan whole—have you heard anything of it?”
Should Pi Yangcheon have harbored even the slightest past connection to the Woneum Sect,
this single question would surely elicit some minute reaction.
Muk Yeojin pushed his senses to their absolute limit in that brief moment.
He resolved to miss nothing—not the flicker of an eye, not the catch of a breath, not the tremor of a single muscle.
But mercifully,
Pi Yangcheon merely let out a soft laugh, his face grown even more relaxed by the wine.
“Perhaps. Zhongyuan is vast enough. There’s nothing strange about such things emerging from anywhere at any time.”
His voice remained even, his expression unmoved.
Muk Yeojin released a quiet breath of relief.
‘This is enough for now.’
He could not claim certainty from so little, but at least there had been no sign of agitation.
Then Pi Yangcheon drained the last of his wine and continued,
“But even if such groups existed, they would lack the strength to overturn the martial world as it stands today, or to shake Zhongyuan itself.”
Muk Yeojin’s gaze deepened.
“Because the Three Heavenly Existences remain?”
Pi Yangcheon nodded.
“Indeed. Who would dare disturb Zhongyuan while those three stand firm? Unless they tear each other apart and fall of their own accord.”
……
Muk Yeojin gazed quietly toward the sky.
‘True words.’
From the moment he first encountered his father after the Regression, that thought had gradually shifted from vague suspicion toward undeniable certainty.
And just days ago,
witnessing firsthand that impossible technique—unfolded with nothing more than a single drop of water—had left no room for doubt.
The Lord of Sadocheon, Muk Umyeong, was formidable.
Not merely a powerful figure of some ordinary caliber.
Father—Muk Umyeong.
‘That man stands no lower than the Sect Leaders.’
By extension, both the Master of the Cheonma Divine Sect and the head of the Jeongdo Murim Alliance had to be forces of equal standing to Muk Umyeong.
Had they held their ground, the Woneum Sect’s expansion into Zhongyuan would never have been permitted so easily.
Yet the Woneum Sect emerged into the world, and Zhongyuan fell in the end.
How could such a thing have come to pass?
Muk Yeojin’s presence gradually stilled.
‘Why else… because the Three Heavenly Existences vanished.’
The disappearance of the Three Heavenly Existences.
Three years before the Woneum Sect’s rise to prominence, a catastrophic event that shook Cheonha.
The Disappearance of the Three Existences.
It may have been the beginning of all ruin.

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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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