Return of the God of War - Chapter 83

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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 83. Before Those We Love
“Damn.”
Muk Yeojin’s face hardened sharply as he confirmed the sender’s seal stamped at the bottom of the letter.
He turned at once and stepped out of the hall.
This was not a situation to dismiss carelessly.
“What is it?”
“Sub-Sect Leader. This is a letter that came from the sleeping quarters of the man claiming to be Yeocheong’s brother.”
“A letter?”
Cheon Hwarin’s expression, which had accepted it as if it were nothing serious, twisted immediately.
She too had no choice but to exhale a deep sigh.
“Na Pyeonggi…”
That was the name of the letter’s sender.
Yang Hui’s eyes widened as though they might burst from his skull.
“Did you just say Na Pyeonggi?”
Cheon Hwarin threw the letter she held in her hand to Yang Hui.
He scanned it urgently.
All the flowery language was beside the point.
What Yang Hui focused on was only one thing—the final line.
—Then I shall see you at my residence on the New Moon Day of the tenth month.
Respectfully, Na Pyeonggi.
Yang Hui could not suppress his shock.
How could he?
Na Pyeonggi.
Save for the Three Sovereigns of Cheonha, counted as belonging to the Heavenly Realm, he was among those who possessed the greatest martial prowess in the Human Realm.
One of the Heavenly Martial Eleven Seats.
An absolute master of the Claw Technique, occupying one of those positions.
He was the Hundred-Handed Demon Claw, Na Pyeonggi.
He was still a relatively young martial artist who had not yet passed his fiftieth year.
Yet given that he had once single-handedly sent back five elders of the Jeomchang Sect,
no one disagreed that he possessed skill befitting a Heavenly Martial seat.
Muk Yeojin’s eyes darkened.
‘The Hundred-Handed Demon Claw… so the man appears here.’
In the blood slaughter of the Woneum Sect in the past, there were those like Muk Yeojin and Cheon Hwarin who resisted them.
Naturally, the opposite case existed as well.
Those who submitted to their overwhelming power and took on the role of lackeys.
And Na Pyeonggi was a representative figure among them.
Thus, the fact that he had ties to the Demon Line was not particularly surprising to Muk Yeojin.
But.
‘According to the records, there remain some ten years before the Woneum Sect rises to prominence—yet Na Pyeonggi has already been in contact with them?’
If so?
Muk Yeojin’s energy rippled ominously for a moment.
‘So that’s it… they have been watching the movements of Zhongyuan for decades and sowing seeds everywhere.’
He had suspected as much.
The very establishment of the trading company through Bu Yeon had already been a move made with an eye toward hidden forces secretly supporting the Woneum Sect.
And when he ascertained the true nature of Muk Geon this time, that suspicion hardened into certainty.
Only.
He had not known that the thread already reached so far as the Heavenly Martial Eleven Seats.
‘Na Pyeonggi… possessed of such martial skill, why did you choose to become their dog?’
Muk Yeojin shook his head.
No amount of pondering could let him fathom another’s mind.
What mattered now was only one thing.
The Hundred-Handed Demon Claw Na Pyeonggi was undeniably an ‘enemy.’
Moreover.
“The New Moon Day of the tenth month would be precisely four days from now, would it not?”
Fate’s jest had gone far enough.
It happened to coincide exactly with the time Yeocheong had said was needed to break the Grand Method.
Unfortunately, it seemed even heavenly foresight was not omnipotent—she too had failed to glimpse a future such as this.
Muk Yeojin’s troubled thoughts deepened.
‘If luck favored us, we might not face him at all.’
But if they relied on fortune and did encounter him, there was no way whatsoever to stand against the Hundred-Handed Demon Claw with their current forces.
Cheon Hwarin’s thoughts ran along similar lines.
“He may hold only the lowest rank among the Heavenly Martial Eleven Seats, but that hardly diminishes his name. Even facing him alone, I could manage perhaps a few dozen exchanges before faltering. Protecting two people while contending with him is simply beyond my capability.”
Yang Hui had never trained in martial techniques specialized for direct combat.
And Muk Yeojin himself bore considerable internal injuries from his exchanges with Baek Yupae and the Four Swords.
Facing one of the Heavenly Martial Eleven Seats in this condition would not end in mere wounds.
Cheon Hwarin shook her head.
No matter how she calculated it, the three of them standing against Na Pyeonggi was nothing short of suicide.
“If we’re to have any hope of engaging him, we’d need someone at the front to draw his attention—at minimum, a martial master of Demon Sovereign caliber from the sect. But we have only four days. Even if we send a raven within that time, it won’t reach the sect before we’re all corpses.”
In that moment, Muk Yeojin’s eyes gleamed.
‘Demon Sovereign caliber?’
Demon Sovereigns.
The eight supreme masters who upheld the Demon Cult.
By the reckoning of Sadocheon, they corresponded to the six Palace Lords and five Grand Masters.
Even searching all of Zhongyuan, such masters were not easy to find.
But now.
Three figures surfaced in Muk Yeojin’s mind.
His mother, Nangung Yeongryeong.
And his master, Pi Yangcheon.
Both possessed martial prowess that could rival that of a Demon Sovereign.
‘But they cannot be moved.’
He had already asked them to protect Hye Rangyeong and Muk Byeongho.
Beyond that, so long as the Woneum Sect still had eyes and ears within Sadocheon, deploying those two would not be a wise move when considering the future.
‘Then…’
No matter how he turned it over in his mind, there was only one person he could rely on now.
With resolve crystallized, Muk Yeojin slowly lifted his head.
And he gazed quietly at Yang Hui.
“Hui. You have to go.”
“Go? Where do you mean?”
Muk Yeojin turned his head southward and spoke slowly.
“Yunnan Province.”
* * *
Muk Yeojin cast his gaze through the crack of a barely opened door.
A low, resonant hum filled the air.
“Hah… hah…”
Yeocheong could be seen deploying the Breaking Form of the Grand Method, her breathing so ragged she seemed on the verge of collapse.
In his eyes watching the children, only profound guilt welled up.
It is not your fault, Yeocheong.
Mulling over whether to speak such words, Muk Yeojin turned away without leaving even half a phrase.
Comfort offered in ignorance of how deeply another’s emotion runs can only deepen the weight.
He need only do what lay within his power.
Thump.
Muk Yeojin settled into the main hall.
From this moment forward, he must set aside food and drink, fixing himself to the circulation of energy alone.
Four days remained.
Only by managing his internal injuries and reclaiming enough mobility could he avoid becoming a burden.
A keen, trembling sound resonated through the air.
As the Cangqiong Qi, barely drawn forth like water from a wrung cloth, spiraled through his body, it seeped into his wounds.
“Ugh…”
Muk Yeojin groaned against the pain.
Yet he did not cease his circulation.
The most effective medicine brings the most pain.
“Breath…”
After focusing on circulation for roughly two hours, a sensation of opening pathways finally came.
When he opened his closed eyes, at some distance away—
Cheon Hwarin stood with arms crossed, leaning against a wooden pillar.
“Were you perhaps standing guard for me?”
“Guard duty, my foot.”
Cheon Hwarin turned her head away with a tsk.
She could have simply admitted it.
A smile bloomed unbidden at the corners of Muk Yeojin’s lips.
By then, the sun had dipped low and dusk was settling over the land.
A crescent moon hung in the sky, announcing the approach of the New Moon Day.
The two of them gazed up at the night sky for a moment.
Only briefly.
Then Cheon Hwarin spoke.
“What is it you’re really after, doing all this?”
She meant: why was he risking his life for children whose names he didn’t even know?
Muk Yeojin gave an inward laugh.
Because Cheon Hwarin herself was doing exactly the same thing—staking her own life on this venture.
Likely she didn’t understand her own motivations any better than he did, which was probably why she’d asked.
Perhaps she was hoping to hear the answer from someone else.
Muk Yeojin considered for a moment, and he found he had no interest in offering some tired platitude about compassion or pity.
He chose his words carefully before he spoke.
“I suppose it’s so I can stand with a clear conscience before those I hold dear someday.”
“Those you hold dear?”
“Ah, I should clarify—I mean love between human and human, not romantic love between man and woman.”
Cheon Hwarin’s brow furrowed.
“You don’t need to explain something that obvious.”
“Is that so?”
Muk Yeojin chuckled softly.
The laugh was so infuriating that Cheon Hwarin turned away, her gaze returning to the sky.
If she’d kept looking at that face much longer, she was certain her fist would fly.
Her eyes, catching the moonlight, shimmered.
‘To stand with a clear conscience before those I hold dear…’
Unbidden, she recalled something Muk Yeojin had said when they left Sadocheon days ago.
—It’s about your heart. Don’t hide how you truly feel from those around you.
What kind of man carelessly speaks such ticklish words without hesitation?
And yet…
‘Why do those words somehow not seem foolish at all?’
Before she knew it, Cheon Hwarin found herself smiling softly.
A moment later.
Thump.
She drew a small wooden case from her breast and tossed it to him.
“Is it poison?”
“Unfortunately, this time it’s genuine poison. The Golden Ring Shattering Poison Pill—the deadliest poison of all deadliest poisons.”
…!
Muk Yeojin’s eyes widened like lanterns.
The Golden Ring Shattering Poison Pill.
As she had said.
It was classified among the deadliest poisons under heaven—poison of poisons.
But as it’s said, poison and remedy are separated by a hairline.
The Golden Ring Pill was both a vicious toxin and an elixir of ages.
In the hands of one who could neutralize its poisonous nature…
…it became a priceless treasure that would instantly eclipse the Hundred-Hand Divine Pill and Immortal Spirit Essence that Muk Yeojin had once consumed.
“You have that Lotus Wheel Bracelet from Qinghai Cave—the one you used to ward off the Crimson King Herb’s toxins. You’ll have no trouble controlling the Golden Ring Pill’s poison.”
She was right, but Cheon Hwarin herself was a martial master born with the All-Poison-Immunity Body.
She had just given away what should have been her own treasure.
Nothing in this world comes free.
When something this precious is offered without condition, most would first scrutinize the giver’s intent.
But.
There are always exceptions.
Before Cheon Hwarin, Muk Yeojin chose not to question such things.
“Thank you.”
With those words alone.
Lest she change her mind, he slipped the case into his breast as quickly as if concealing one’s eyes from the truth.
…
Cheon Hwarin blinked, watching him.
No matter how one looked at it, this was the Golden Ring Shattering Poison Pill, after all…
Even if tears of gratitude hadn’t flowed.
She hadn’t expected him to accept it so casually—her words catching in her throat for a moment.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m sorry, but it’s our No Returns Policy. I won’t give it back even if you ask.”
At those words, Cheon Hwarin let out a hollow laugh as if in disbelief, then turned away.
“…… You can have it all to yourself.”
* * *
Whoooosh.
Yang Hui’s form became a single thread of light, cleaving through the void.
The speed was truly tremendous.
Ordinary people without trained eyes couldn’t even follow Yang Hui’s silhouette,
a secret technique of Heavenly Beyond Sword Sect.
The Seomhwi Jeonsem.
That was why Yang Hui had been chosen to summon ‘that certain person’ in Yunnan Province.
Even as he deployed his technique to its fullest, urgency etched itself across Yang Hui’s face.
And for good reason.
‘Go from Chongqing to Yunnan in four days?’
No—that was the round trip, and since he had to carry someone on the way back, he had to arrive in no more than fifteen hours at most.
Even the Seomhwi Jeonsem meant Yang Hui was staking his life on this journey.
Even as he charged forward with ragged breaths, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
‘What am I doing right now…… Why?’
And shortly after, a bitter smile tinged with self-mockery leaked through.
‘I was helpless.’
Faced with undeniable villains right before his eyes.
While Cheon Hwarin and Muk Yeojin displayed impossible martial prowess, he had been utterly powerless.
His pride was wounded.
Even seeing the servants he’d rescued after eliminating the Three Demons of Blood made that clear.
In the end, the people’s support and admiration turned toward the Righteous Path.
Yet the Demon Cult and the Dark Path had risked their lives for them.
‘If I, bearing the name of the Righteous Path, don’t even prepare myself to stake my life, how can I face myself?’
For that reason, Yang Hui now deployed the Seomhwi Jeonsem at the cost of his life.
Boom!
His body shot forward at a speed even faster than before.
And so, the next day.
When the sun climbed to its zenith.
Yang Hui arrived at a small village nestled in the quiet mountains of Yunnan Province.
“Huff… huff…”
His eyes darted about rapidly as he caught his breath in gasps.
‘Is that it!’
The Wood Jade that Muk Yeojin had mentioned was unmistakable.
“Pardon me! Is anyone home! The Young Lord… Young Lord Muk Yeojin is in danger. Is anyone there……!”
That was when.
“Who’s in danger?”
At the voice from behind, Yang Hui turned his head.
There stood a woman dressed like an ordinary housewife.
But.
“……!”
Yang Hui was startled.
‘Strong. Absurdly strong. Who on earth is this woman.’
When Yang Hui said nothing, the woman released her killing intent.
It was a killing intent so thick that Yang Hui’s teeth chattered.
Before disaster could strike, Yang Hui quickly opened his mouth.
“Y-Young Lord Muk Yeojin sent me. The Young Lord’s life hangs in the balance.”
The woman—Muk Yeojin’s half-sister.
Muk Iyeon’s eyes grew dark and profound.
“Explain. In detail.”

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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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