Return of the God of War - Chapter 80

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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 80. I will endure for the whole day.
“Geuk…… Ma……?”
At Muk Yeojin’s words, shock flooded across Cheon Hwarin’s face.
“How did you…… know that……?”
Geuk Ma.
Among the Ma In, they were reckoned among the strongest handful.
It was an inevitable stage and gate that they passed through when they forged their Ma Gong to the extreme.
Cheon Hwarin stood right now on the threshold of that Geuk Ma stage.
Or rather, by the natural order of things, she should have entered Geuk Ma long ago.
Yet somehow, she had not.
She had not taken the first step into Geuk Ma.
That she, already qualified, could resist Geuk Ma of her own will—if that was not a Sin Gi, what was?
Why had Cheon Hwarin refused to enter the Geuk Ma stage?
The answer lay in why Ma Gong was regarded as a taboo among the martial artists of Zhongyuan.
Upon reaching Geuk Ma, the Gi Maek spanning not only the Ha Dan Jeon but also the Jung Dan Jeon and Sang Dan Jeon underwent integration.
The Ha Dan Jeon, situated three inches below the navel.
The Jung Dan Jeon, positioned at the center of the breastbone, at the solar plexus.
And the Sang Dan Jeon, located in the brain itself—more precisely, in the frontal lobe.
The problem lay precisely in the Sang Dan Jeon.
When one rose to Geuk Ma and Ma Gi surged into the Sang Dan, it began to encroach upon the frontal lobe.
The frontal lobe was the seat of human reason and personality.
Thus those who attained Geuk Ma—without exception, every single one—
underwent a transformation of personality.
And Ma Gi was by nature a warped, withered force born as the price of defying the order of heaven and earth.
Any whose Sang Dan Jeon fell under its encroachment would inevitably degenerate into a Sal Gwi, a killer-ghost that pursued only blood and power.
Of course, among them there were rare exceptions—those chosen by heaven as warriors of their age.
Those blessed with outstanding skill, inborn talent, and merciless fortune alike could sometimes wade through that swamp of madness and return.
To shake off the encroachment of Geuk Ma and reclaim one’s original self.
Finally transcending the Ma, escaping its bondage—such a being was called by the people thus:
One who had transcended Ma itself.
‘Tal Ma.’
It was the supreme stage that the people of Zhongyuan spoke of as Cho Geuk.
Cheon Hwarin knew it well.
That one day she would be a warrior who reached Tal Ma.
It was not arrogance.
Because she could see that high summit of Tal Ma with her own eyes, even now.
The question was whether it was truly a hill just before her.
Or whether it was so vast that, though tens of thousands of miles away, it still filled her sight—a distant peak.
That uncertainty was what gnawed at her.
And so she feared.
That she would wander too long in the time of Geuk Ma.
That she would lose herself across those years.
That she might wound those dear to her—Gwi Young and the rest—by her own hand.
It was this concern that had kept her, by her own will, from ascending to Geuk Ma.
Yet in this moment, Muk Yeojin spoke to Cheon Hwarin thus:
“Ascend to Geuk Ma, Sub-Sect Leader.”
Cheon Hwarin reeled.
How could he possibly know that she stood on the threshold of Geuk Ma?
But that aside—this was not the time for such questions.
Not when saber-wielders drunk on Gwang Pok Gi bore down from all sides.
“You want me to ascend to Geuk Ma in the middle of this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re insane.”
The words came from Yang Hui’s lips.
In this moment, Cheon Hwarin thought as Yang Hui did.
It was madness, plain and simple.
To attempt Geuk Ma in this chaos was folly enough; and should she succeed—
she, drunk on slaughter, might tear every soul present to shreds with her own hands.
However one reasoned it, it was a terrible move.
“Better I withdraw now and, as Sub-Sect Leader, call for reinforcements from our sect.”
“That won’t work.”
From Muk Yeojin’s perspective, it would be a disaster.
If spies had burrowed into Sadocheon itself, then the Won Eum Gyoyo’s influence surely existed within the Demon Cult as well.
If the one sent under the pretext of support was that spy, it would be no different from inviting the enemy into their midst.
That was precisely why Muk Yeojin had resolved to handle this affair quietly and alone, without drawing on Sadocheon’s forces and resources.
‘I’ve uncovered that Muk Gun is a spy, but the roots of all those embedded in Sadocheon haven’t been fully exposed yet.’
And beyond that.
If not today, there might never come another chance to recapture Ma Seon.
He would not abandon his leadership of the Rampage Faction.
If Muk Yeojin let him slip away now, the man would surely create second and third versions of Baek Yu Pae somewhere down the line.
‘So I must cut him down here and now, without fail.’
But there was neither time nor confidence to explain all these circumstances in detail.
So Muk Yeojin hastily chose different words and spoke.
“An incomplete Rampage state—once triggered, it will persist until death. If we don’t stop them now, what do you think will happen?”
“…!”
The faces of both Cheon Hwarin and Yang Hui went rigid as they grasped the implication at once.
Muk Yeojin continued.
“You may have forgotten, but this is the Best Medical Family Under Heaven. Beyond the Rear Garden where we stand, the Inner Courtyard holds countless patients and physicians and healers with no connection to this affair.”
Muk Yeojin spoke with unwavering resolve.
“If we don’t stop these creatures, hundreds and thousands of innocents will die meaninglessly at their hands.”
One might ask what their deaths had to do with him.
But a person of that sort would not be standing in this place now.
The choice that warriors like Cheon Hwarin and Yang Hui would make had been decided from the start.
Bang!
Those who had lost their senses began their hunt in earnest.
Cheon Hwarin’s lips pressed together.
In that instant, a whirlwind of countless thoughts tore through her mind.
Geuk Ma.
As a warrior who had mastered Ma Gong, and as the sect’s heir, it was a trial she would one day have to face head-on.
She was not unaware of this fact.
She knew it was a path that could not be avoided.
But she had not known that moment would come now.
Least of all had she imagined being forced to decide with no time to breathe, like roasting beans in a lightning strike.
And yet, after a brief hesitation.
Cheon Hwarin’s lips opened carefully.
“…Half a quarter. Hold the line.”
Half a quarter?
Yang Hui thought it impossible.
Even from a distance, the pressure of their Ma Gi was so fierce it made the flesh crawl.
To hold for half a quarter against that was no different from standing firm under a downpour of artillery.
But now.
Muk Yeojin smiled.
Clang!
He tightened his grip on the Huk Ya Geom.
And with the three of them at his back, he turned to face the mad swordsmen and spoke without hesitation.
“I will hold for the whole day if need be.”
In that moment.
“…!”
Something pierced through Cheon Hwarin’s mind like a cry.
Muk Yeojin’s back came into view.
There was something familiar about it.
No—it went beyond mere familiarity.
It overlapped with the silhouette of someone she longed for, someone she had missed.
And a voice like a ringing in her ears circled her thoughts.
I will hold for the whole day, sister.
Cheon Hwarin’s pupils trembled.
‘What is… this…’
She could not explain it.
It was a strange and subtle sensation she had never experienced once in all her years.
But this was not the time to let her mind slip away.
Cheon Hwarin steadied her breath at once.
As if to prove she was far more than merely a martial artist of superior strength.
Her wavering mind became utterly still in an instant, reclaiming perfect clarity.
Thump.
She then crossed her legs in meditation and circulated the power of Hyeol Cheon Dae Ra Sin Gong through her dantians, stimulating the middle and upper energy centers.
Her full-force sprint toward Geuk Ma had begun.
The road ahead was already wide open and flattened.
There were no obstacles, no fear of losing her way.
She needed only time to run and arrive.
Meanwhile, Yang Hui gasped in shock, then let out a cry of alarm.
‘She’s circulating her qi in this situation? And how is she enduring half a watch?’
Madmen, both of them.
He’d thought they were moderately mad, but they were utterly, completely mad.
“Yang Hui! You stay right there and protect the lady.”
Yang Hui shook his head.
‘Damn it.’
He knew this was madness.
He knew that slipping away was the wisest course.
And yet.
Why did watching those two kindle something in him—a competitive fire rising unbidden?
‘I’m not this kind of person.’
He truly couldn’t make sense of himself.
Crack!
Yang Hui gripped the Ssang Hwan Dan Do again and swept his gaze across all sides.
Seeing this, Muk Yeojin’s lips curved up ever so slightly.
And he nodded.
‘Curious fellow, really.’
He’d been that way even before the return.
In peaceful daily life, he was a man you couldn’t trust even a hair’s breadth—yet on a razor’s edge where lives hung in the balance, he proved utterly reliable.
Muk Yeojin felt no unease whatsoever trusting him with his back.
“Huah.”
Muk Yeojin exhaled slowly and fixed his gaze on the enemies before him.
From the front, strange creatures wreathed in Gwang Pok Gi rushed forward in unison.
In particular, Baek Yu Pae, who had always possessed considerable naegong, was radiating a presence of an entirely different caliber.
‘By gi level alone, he ranks with the Great Masters and Palace Lords of Sadocheon.’
Half a watch.
A span barely long enough to empty a single meal—yet from this moment forward, that time would stretch before Muk Yeojin like eternity itself.
Bang!
With a violent tremor shaking the earth, the Cangqiong Qi rising to its peak erupts skyward.
Muk Yeojin gripped the Huk Ya Geom, from which threads of qi were visibly being drawn out strand by strand, and adopted the Ha Dan Sae stance.
It was markedly different from any sword method he had wielded until now.
The sword Muk Yeojin was about to unfold.
Geuk Tu Shin Geom.
Five forms.
Great Wall.
The first form, Cheon Swae Il Seom, carries the essence of Speed.
The second form, Poong Ryun Cham, embodies the principle of Variation.
The third form, Yu Ha Do Do, holds the essence of Softness.
And the fourth form, Nak Un, is a sword style infused with the principle of Strength.
Each possessed its own character, its own strengths and weaknesses.
Yet the common thread among all four forms.
They are blades of pure offense, cutting and slashing without restraint.
But the fifth form stood apart from all the others at its very foundation.
It is not merely another variation in the spectrum of sword techniques—quick or strong or otherwise.
Great Wall.
A city wall, by its nature, is a structure built to defend against invasion from without.
It exists not to wound the enemy but to stand firm and protect itself—a monument raised for defense, not offense.
As its name suggests.
The fifth form, Great Wall, is a sword of defense, not offense.
It is a blade that saves allies, not one that slays enemies.
It is not over.
A high-pitched whistle shrieked through the air.
The Ho Shin Gong coursing through every fiber of his body responded, calling forth the Ho Shin Gi.
And beneath his robes, the peerless treasure pressed against his skin—the Yong Ho Ui itself.
Precisely for a moment like this had he received it from Pae Gun Byung Chang.
The three divine instruments gathered as one for the Geuk Bang—the Unbreakable Iron Formation was complete.
A sharp, singing hiss cut through the silence.
A dark smile spread across Muk Yeojin’s lips.
“Come then… let us dance, you wretched vermin.”

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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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