Return of the God of War - Chapter 87

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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 87. Return to Me Safely
Hye Rangyeong’s chambers, Yeongbijeon.
In the dead of night, shadows cloaked in black crept silently into the darkened halls.
Their movements were fluid, their paths certain.
One could see at once that they knew the interior layout perfectly.
And there was good reason for it.
The man leading them—
He was Gyeomjeok, the steward who had once handed Hye Rangyeong the Radiation Cloth.
Upon reaching his target, he spoke quietly to his subordinates.
“Leave not a single soul alive. Kill them all.”
The order fell, and the black-clad figures moved without hesitation.
Both the one who commanded murder and those who received it showed the same composure.
Not a flicker of doubt crossed their faces.
These were not people for whom such work was novel.
Soft footfalls echoed through the halls.
They pushed open the chamber doors without pause and entered.
Through a servant, Gyeomjeok had already poisoned the evening meal of every attendant lodged in Yeongbijeon with a sleeping draught.
Tonight, this place would know only the silent death of darkness.
A whisper of sound.
Gyeomjeok moved.
Out of respect for the years they had spent together, he would sever Hye Rangyeong’s breath with his own hands—he turned toward her bedchamber.
The door clicked open.
Gyeomjeok stepped inside and gazed at the swollen shape beneath the bedding.
There was nothing left to say.
Though they had spent more than a decade together, she had been nothing to him from first to last but a tool, a pawn in his game.
‘Why did you have to go and do something so foolish?’
Had she not carelessly pored over ledgers and pried into his affairs, he would not have needed to resort to murder and silence.
Of course.
A few years hence, Hye Rangyeong’s fate would have been little different regardless.
When the time came to seize control of Sadocheon with Muk Geon at the forefront.
Gyeomjeok had crafted a scene in which he would affix the charge of treason upon her and purge her cleanly from existence.
That stratagem had served two purposes.
First, to magnify Muk Geon’s legitimacy by crushing a traitor.
For Muk Geon to become the Lesser Heavenly Lord and seize complete control of Sadocheon, he needed justification as much as might.
The pike bearing a traitor’s head would serve his army both as a banner and as unassailable cause.
Second, to neutralize her daughter—Muk Iyeon.
Hye Rangyeong herself posed no real threat. But Muk Iyeon, the wielder of the Severing Heart Return Sword, was certainly a troublesome piece.
When Hye Rangyeong was condemned to death as a traitor, ideally her daughter would be swept up with her and removed as well.
Even if Muk Iyeon somehow escaped death, once the mark of a traitor’s daughter was upon her, her standing within Sadocheon would naturally dissolve.
Her fate, her role—all decided from the moment, ten years ago, when Gyeomjeok became her subordinate.
Gyeomjeok, dagger in hand, hesitated for the briefest instant.
More than a decade of time.
‘Have I… grown attached?’
It seemed so.
Attachment had taken root.
Not toward the woman Hye Rangyeong herself, but toward the scheme he had architected.
‘If I were to say it cost me nothing, having nursed this dark stratagem so long, that would be a lie.’
For the greater design, one must always be prepared to abandon the smaller things.
Whether they be people or plans.
For his clan, Gyeomjeok had long since made peace with surrendering anything.
Yet when Gyeomjeok looked upon Hye Rangyeong, his eyes held not the faintest emotion.
As if gazing upon a mere object—nothing but a blank, cold stare.
‘Farewell then, my lady.’
A sharp whistle of steel.
The instant his dagger thrust forward—
A graceful hand burst through the bedding and seized his wrist.
“Huh?!”
The hand that tore through the coverlet was delicate yet unyielding—and it gripped his arm with surprising strength.
A hand almost impossibly smooth and firm.
“Creeping into a married woman’s bedchamber in the dead of night? You are as treacherous as you appear, aren’t you?”
A bright, ringing voice cut through the air.
Crash!
A violent impact slammed into his chest.
Gyeomjeok flew backward all the way to the wall, struck hard, then tumbled to the floor with a heavy thud.
“Gasp!”
One blow had ravaged his insides.
Had his opponent shown even a shred of restraint, the wound would surely have been fatal.
“Cough!”
Gyeomjeok coughed up a mouthful of crimson blood and lifted his head.
The bedding was drawn back, and from beneath it a figure rose to her feet.
Gyeomjeok’s eyes widened in shock.
It was a woman.
But she was not Hye Rangyeong.
“How… what are you doing here…?”
The woman’s face caught the bright moonlight, now fully revealed.
She was none other than Nangung Yeongryeong, Master of the Geomgung.
The shock that had clouded Gyeomjeok’s eyes faded swiftly into calculation.
He could not fathom why Nangung Yeongryeong was here.
Yet whatever her reason, if she stood in this place, she too would simply be… removed.
Whistle!
He brought his fingers to his lips and blew.
It was a signal to gather all his subordinates hidden throughout Yeongbijeon.
But then—
“……….”
Nangung Yeongryeong smiled.
“It seems your plans aren’t quite going as you’d hoped, are they?”
That was when it happened.
“Looking for these men?”
Bang!
An entire wall exploded inward, and an elderly swordsman stepped through the breach.
He walked in slowly and cast down a figure he’d been holding—one of Gyeomjeok’s subordinates, clothed in black.
“……….”
But this time, Gyeomjeok showed no reaction.
As if he had already sensed the fate descending upon him, he merely whispered softly to himself.
“The Transformation Blade… Pi Yangcheon.”
The white blade of the White Moon Sword in his left hand was slick with the blood of—how many had he already claimed?
Pi Yangcheon’s eyes burned with killing intent.
Hye Rangyeong.
The gifted daughter of a dear friend, whom he had watched over since her first faltering steps.
She had not grown to be quite as magnificent as he might have wished.
Yet whether he liked it or not, she was like a daughter to Pi Yangcheon.
And today, that child had nearly been murdered in cold blood.
In all his years, had Pi Yangcheon ever felt rage like this?
The fury coursing through him now was absolute.
“Who ordered this? The Alliance Lord? The Demon Celestial? Who dared command such an atrocity?”
He had not spoken from certain knowledge.
There were few who possessed the audacity and power to strike at the wife of the Lesser Heavenly Lord Muk Umyeong within Sadocheon itself.
He was simply listing names, half-consciously, of those he deemed capable of such a conspiracy.
Yet Gyeomjeok’s response was utterly unexpected.
“Kekekek… The Alliance Lord? The Demon Celestial?”
His lips twisted upward in a mockery of a smile.
“To compare me to such petty creatures… how laughable.”
His voice grew thick with madness.
“On the day Woneum returns to the world, you will all be reduced to nothing but insects!”
His cry was almost a roar.
“Woneum Return Truth, Ten Thousand Methods Self Perish!”
And in that same instant—
Gyeomjeok drew a dark, bulbous sphere from his robes.
Pi Yangcheon’s eyes went wide.
“A Lightning Bomb?”
Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack!
The speed of recognition and the speed of the blade’s unsheathing were identical.
The Ultimate Ethereal Sword Single Flash of Heaven’s Severing sliced clean through Gyeomjeok’s right arm like lightning.
Immediately after.
Whoosh, whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
In an instant, Nangung Yeongryeong’s Space-Rending Bright King Sword emerged, and a violent wind erupted from its blade.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
The Lightning Bomb caught in the blade’s tempest pierced through the ceiling and shot into empty air.
Then.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
In an instant, a blinding flash bright as midday flooded the room, and scorching heat washed over everything.
Click.
Nangung Yeongryeong, who had been gazing quietly at the ceiling, sheathed her sword without a word.
“What’s become of him?”
Pi Yangcheon, who had been examining Gyeomjeok, clicked his tongue.
“He’s already taken his own life. Must’ve been hiding a deadly poison between his teeth.”
Nangung Yeongryeong looked down at Gyeomjeok, whose body had turned pitch black.
‘Woneum, then……?’
The organization to which this man Gyeomjeok belonged was unmistakable.
But that wasn’t what mattered most.
‘To dismiss two of the Three Supremes under Heaven as merely adequate……’
Either empty boasting or madness.
It had to be one or the other.
‘But if it’s neither of those……’
She turned away from the window, pushing down the ill omen that had crept into her mind.
In this very moment.
Only one person filled Nangung Yeongryeong’s thoughts.
‘Yeojin……’
Her son, who had vanished leaving only a letter entrusting Hye Rangyeong and his child to her care.
What did this mean? Why had he left home alone, and for what purpose?
None of that mattered now.
Only one thing.
‘……Just come back safely.’
* * *
“Yeojin!”
“Muk Yeojin!”
Where Na Pyeonggi’s monster-killing wind had swept past, not a single blade of grass remained standing.
And yet.
Contrary to Muk Iyeon’s and Cheon Hwarin’s fears.
“Tsk! My clothes are completely torn to shreds.”
Muk Yeojin emerged from the windstorm looking remarkably unharmed.
His entire body bore only minor abrasions.
Na Pyeonggi’s eyebrows twitched.
‘That man’s body……?’
His chest and abdomen, visible through the tattered remnants of his clothes.
His body was a perfectly chiseled mass of muscle, reminiscent of diamond itself.
How such monstrous strength could emanate from a frame that appeared almost slender and scholar-like at first glance was beyond understanding.
And furthermore.
‘Guardian Qi Armor……’
That faint shimmer of Guardian Qi rippling across his body.
That was unmistakably Guardian Qi Armor.
This was why Muk Yeojin could emerge unscathed even from Na Pyeonggi’s monster-killing wind.
As the Ink Heaven Profound Origin Technique took root, his Extreme Origin Guardian Qi had advanced one rank, reaching the realm of Extreme Origin Guardian Qi Armor.
Tap, tap.
Muk Yeojin brushed the dust from his shoulders and took a step forward.
“That fellow certainly packs a punch.”
Fellow? A punch?
His words were utterly absurd.
Whoosh!
In an instant, he vanished.
The swift footwork he had displayed earlier was unmistakable.
Na Pyeonggi moved his right hand by instinct.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
The two warriors’ Clash of Weapons met in a shower of sparks.
Na Pyeonggi was startled once more.
The weight he felt in the blade had increased yet another level.
‘So there was still more power left to draw out!’
If the man had been wearing monastic robes, one might have mistaken him for a martial monk of the Shaolin who had achieved the Indestructible Method.
Crash! Bang!
Muk Yeojin pressed forward without pause, his footwork swift, raining strikes upon Na Pyeonggi.
Clang! Boom! Crash!
This was precisely the sword technique Muk Yeojin had wielded in his past life.
A merciless barrage of consecutive blade strikes, never allowing the opponent a moment’s respite.
It was so formless, so savage—a raw brawl with a sword in hand—that one could scarcely tell whether it was swordplay at all.
Muk Iyeon and Cheon Hwarin’s eyes widened as they watched Muk Yeojin’s assault.
‘What in heaven’s name…’
‘A true madman.’
Yet despite the dizzying spectacle, the battle had entered a new phase.
As Muk Yeojin pressed Na Pyeonggi from the front, the strikes of Muk Iyeon and Cheon Hwarin grew sharper, carving deeper into his defenses.
Crash!
Bang! Bang!
This frenzied exchange had already lasted the better part of an hour.
Three against one—a desperate struggle.
No mortal’s strength is infinite.
Naturally, having driven a single opponent to such extremity, one might well claim victory was assured.
And yet.
Slice!
A line of blood appeared along Muk Yeojin’s ribs.
Na Pyeonggi’s Crimson Shadow Monster Killing Claw had pierced through Muk Yeojin’s Guardian Qi Armor, opening a wound in his side.
The man who had been forced into pure defense was now, at last, beginning to counterattack.
Muk Yeojin could not help but feel admiration.
Even facing death, the man’s mastery was awe-inspiring.
‘So this is what separates a martial artist who has reached the Gyeongji. They are truly a different breed.’
Before his regression, Muk Yeojin had never crossed swords with Na Pyeonggi.
It was his sworn brother’s third—Jang Pyeong, the Bright Peak Heavenly Sword—who had cut him down back then.
Jang Pyeong had returned from that clash and spoken thus:
“A fiendishly formidable opponent.”
But just now.
When his fingers nearly flew off as he sought to intercept the Emperor Sword Form, doubt had crept in—was this truly the caliber of warrior Jang Pyeong would praise so highly?
The man had proved disappointing relative to his name.
Though possessed of powerful Martial Arts and boundless Naegong, his resolve seemed wanting.
Yet Na Pyeonggi’s true face was only now, at this precipice, beginning to reveal itself.
The more he was cornered, the more his gaze grew still—like a calm lake—and the Monster Killing Claw he wielded grew ever more solid and keen.
Clang!
“Ugh!”
Muk Iyeon and Muk Yeojin staggered backward.
The repelling force was tremendous enough to drive both of them back at once.
Na Pyeonggi raised the three remaining fingers of his hand and waggled them mockingly.
“Does it not look like a chicken foot now? Hehehehe.”
His jesting tone belied an aura far more murderous than anything he had unleashed all day.

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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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