Return of the God of War - Chapter 95

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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 95. I command you in the Deputy Sovereign’s authority.
An enormous estate stretching a league east to west and fifty paces north to south.
Within it stood a dozen or more classical pavilions arranged in orderly rows.
Yet between those grand structures sat a single small, humble field that seemed somewhat out of place.
In the middle of that field stood a woman of kindly appearance, tending the earth in a worn apron.
Would anyone unfamiliar with her be able to guess at the truth from this sight?
That this woman farmer, smeared with soil and drenched in sweat as she worked her hoe, was Sa Mahyang—the supreme commander of the great Sadocheon, who held dominion over a third of Joongyeon?
Sa Mahyang skillfully carved three furrows and began carefully planting seedlings of leafy vegetables.
Then she clapped her hands together and began humming.
“Hm∼ Grow well now, grow. Oh my, what’s the matter? Shall I give you more water?”
Watching her attempt conversation with inanimate plants, anyone would have to suspect that her reputation as the Iron-Blooded Premier was nothing but idle rumor.
That was when it happened.
“My lord, the Third Young Master requests an audience.”
Thud.
In an instant, her hands froze mid-motion, and the warmth that had dwelt in her eyes evaporated instantly.
“Hm∼ So the boy has come looking for me?”
A single earthworm crawled up her forearm, and she gazed at it with utter indifference before speaking.
“How stands that matter?”
“It is in the final stages.”
The speaker was Jo Hong, vice-director of Hyeongsik-gak.
The number of matters he currently handled numbered not merely in the dozens but in the hundreds.
Yet the way he immediately grasped what Sa Mahyang’s brief question referred to suggested he was no ordinary man.
Sa Mahyang’s brow twitched slightly.
To say “final stages” meant the conclusion had yet to be drawn.
“Of all times, he chooses now to come find me. How inconveniently fortuitous.”
Sa Mahyang, whose half-closed eyes had been staring into emptiness, let out a faint smile.
“So what trinket has our second son managed to grasp? Hm? Eek! An earthworm! There’s an earthworm on my arm! Jo Hong! Get it off! Get it off me! Eek!”
Despite her extreme and utterly unpredictable transformation, Jo Hong showed no change in expression, as if perfectly accustomed to it, and calmly removed the earthworm.
* * *
Step. Step.
The face of Muk Hyeonam, heading to meet his mother, carried a solemn intensity.
Among all who bore a name in Sadocheon—warrior and scholar alike—surely the Sovereign of Sadocheon was the most feared.
Yet if one were asked to choose the single most difficult person to face within Sadocheon itself, all ten times out of ten would select Sa Mahyang.
Muk Hyeonam was no exception to this.
Especially as a retainer of Sadocheon bearing a purpose beyond that of being a son, he would need considerable resolve to stand before her.
Exhale.
Muk Hyeonam drew a deep breath and opened the door to her office.
Her office was austere to the point of appearing shabby in its simplicity.
Just as he was about to step inside.
Thwack!
Something dark shot toward him and buried itself deep in his abdomen.
Muk Hyeonam was a martial master who had not neglected his training despite his heavy duties, and in the jianghu, a name like Samcheon-do was earned by genuine skill regardless of station.
Against such an ambush, he could have defended himself with his eyes closed.
Yet his attacker was none other than his own mother.
And so Muk Hyeonam simply stood motionless, like wood and stone.
Sa Mahyang, her arms wrapped around his waist, laughed brightly.
“Oh goodness! Our beloved son! How long has it been, really!”
Her petite frame strained with all her might to pull a man twice her size into an embrace.
“…Your unfilial son Hyeonam greets you. Have you been well in my absence?”
At that, Sa Mahyang fixed him with eyes like a cat’s.
“You, you! What kind of cold speech is that! Come now, call me Mom. Mom!”
“…Mother, your son has already passed the age of twenty.”
“Twenty or seventy, to a mother’s eyes you shall always be a babe left at water’s edge. My beloved son.”
A bitter smile crossed Muk Hyeonam’s lips.
For those words sprang not from artifice but from the depths of her heart, and that knowledge only deepened his bitterness.
“Mother… or rather, Director of Hyeongsik-gak. Today I have not come as your son, but as the head of Yeongheung-gak.”
…
At those words, Sa Mahyang smiled gently and turned away.
As she walked slowly to the seat of honor and sat, all trace of warmth had vanished from her face.
A flicker of tension appeared in Muk Hyeonam’s eyes.
That woman was none other than his mother, Sa Mahyang.
The terrifying truth was that both extremes of her nature—the merciful and the merciless—were equally genuine; neither was pretense.
If the moment came.
If, as the General Commander, she had to sever her son’s neck, she would seize the blade herself without a moment’s hesitation.
And then she would cradle his severed head and weep herself into unconsciousness for three days and nights without rest.
Because she was such a mother, Muk Hyeonam loved her more than anyone else and feared her more deeply than anyone else.
Sa Mahyang regarded him with eyes devoid of warmth.
“Master of Yeongheung-gak. There’s little point in wasting each other’s time. Shall we proceed directly to the matter at hand?”
It was precisely what Muk Hyeonam himself desired.
“Very well.”
He straightened his posture and began to speak.
“The reason I’ve come to call today is to propose a transaction to the Master of Hyeongsik-gak.”
“A transaction, you say…?”
A thin smile played at the corners of Sa Mahyang’s mouth.
“As everyone knows, a transaction only comes into being when both parties desire something from one another, does it not? Yet here lies our dilemma—I find myself wanting nothing whatsoever from the Master of Yeongheung-gak.”
Muk Hyeonam showed no sign of disturbance.
This was the response he had anticipated, and he had prepared precisely for this moment.
“The Cheonju-ryeong.”
“…!”
“The commodity I place upon the table is the Cheonju-ryeong.”
Sa Mahyang’s eyes widened—a reaction uncharacteristic of her usual composure.
She had certainly known that her second son, as Master of Yeongheung-gak, possessed authority over the Cheonju-ryeong.
But that authority was the entirety of his position and what could be called the very lifeblood of his power.
That he would now offer it for trade was something even she had not foreseen.
A glimmer of genuine interest kindled in Sa Mahyang’s gaze.
“The Cheonju-ryeong—I acknowledge it as a worthy commodity. It certainly appeals to the Master of this house. However, as I understand it, the Master of Yeongheung-gak possesses only a half share of the Cheonju-ryeong, do you not?”
Muk Hyeonam nodded calmly.
The fact that he held only a half share of the Cheonju-ryeong was among the most closely guarded secrets.
But had his mother not known of it, he would have been sorely disappointed.
He then withdrew a sealed document from his robes and presented it to her.
A document bearing the official seal of the Yoheui Palace Master.
Its contents transferred the full authority of the Cheonju-ryeong to the Master of Yeongheung-gak.
Sa Mahyang quickly concealed her surprise beneath an expression of indifference.
‘…He moved the Yoheui Palace Master?’
The Yoheui Palace Master was a figure so complex that even Sa Mahyang found her difficult to manipulate.
While mankind is indeed the highest of creatures and possesses the capacity for growth, it is far more difficult to turn the head of one who has always faced eastward to suddenly face west.
From a mother’s perspective, it was a cold assessment, but—
The second son she had observed all these years, Muk Hyeonam, lacked both the audacity and the capacity to lift the Yoheui Palace Master, who had long lain prostrate before Sa Mahyang herself.
If that were so.
There was only one conclusion to draw.
‘Someone stands behind him.’
And the most likely figure in her assessment was the one who had recently joined hands with her second son.
‘Muk Yeojin. Is he the one orchestrating this?’
After a brief moment’s consideration of the various strands of causality, she was certain.
The figure now sitting before her was unmistakably not her second son, but Muk Yeojin himself.
A strange smile bloomed at the corners of Sa Mahyang’s eyes.
‘How amusing. What exactly does he mean to catch, that he would dangle such an enormous bait before me—and place it in my hands no less?’
That the other party was younger meant nothing.
Even if the other were a child not yet capable of taking his first steps, Sa Mahyang would never look down upon them.
What mattered to her was not the age or station of her counterpart, but their intention.
‘From the beginning, he had his eye on me and moved my son accordingly. The Cheonju-ryeong itself is nothing but bait. I wonder what it is he truly seeks to obtain from me.’
Considering all of this, she now spoke—addressing Muk Yeojin, who was not present in the room.
“Very well. I accept this transaction. What is it that you desire?”
The answer flowed naturally from Muk Hyeonam’s lips.
“I ask that the intelligence network of Hyeongsik-gak conduct an investigation into Muk Geon.”
The conversation that Muk Yeojin and Muk Hyeonam had shared.
—With the Cheonju-ryeong activated, it would certainly be possible to purge anyone. But that alone provides no justification for doing so.
—I am aware.
—And I have no intention of fabricating charges against Geon where none exist.
—Of course not. To frame an innocent person and put them to death would be the work of a common cutthroat in some dark alley.
—So you’re saying there’s justification for Geon’s death.
—Finding that justification is your task. That’s how legitimacy is forged.
—I see. Then I have no choice but to seek out your mother.
For Sa Mahyang, master of Hyeongsik-gak—Joongyeon’s premier intelligence network—this would hardly be a difficult task.
But to deal with her, Muk Hyeonam would have to stake everything.
‘I trust Yeojin.’
The boy wasn’t the type to speak of killing his half-brother without reason.
‘But what if, even after Hyeongsik-gak investigates, they find nothing wrong with Muk Geon?’
A player who’s laid bare all his cards cannot remain seated at the table.
Muk Hyeonam would be eliminated entirely from contention for power.
A true gamble with fate itself on the line.
Is this what those gamblers feel, waiting with trembling hands for the outcome after wagering their entire fortune?
As he waited for his mother’s answer, his fingers trembling,
how much time had passed?
Suddenly, he felt something odd.
Only now did he realize his mother hadn’t answered at all since he’d asked her to investigate Muk Geon.
It was then.
“Hahahahaha!”
Sa Mahyang burst into sudden, unrestrained laughter.
Muk Hyeonam flinched.
He had never seen his mother laugh so openly, so raw.
A glimmer of madness flickered in her eyes.
“Muk Geon! Yes, that’s it. It was Muk Geon!”
Then she clapped her hands sharply.
And then.
“……!”
Muk Hyeonam’s eyes widened.
Whoosh—the walls on both sides of the shabby office opened simultaneously.
From within emerged, in perfect formation, the elite of Hyeongsik-gak’s elite intelligence operatives.
Five hundred members of the Wu-yi Bi-seon stepped into view.

“Jo Hong, vice director!”
Sa Mahyang called out sharply.
“Bring me all the materials you’ve gathered!”
Tap-tap-tap!
Again, Jo Hong gathered the stack of documents without even asking what they concerned.
Sa Mahyang seized them at once and scanned them rapidly.
What she was reviewing was that ‘matter’ which Jo Hong had said she failed to conclude earlier.
It was the incident that Sadocheon’s Lord Muk Umyeong had personally ordered investigated through Baekrang-dae’s master Ju Gok.
The contents concerned everything about the abnormal phenomena displayed by Muk Byeongho in the finals of the Cheolheol Arena.
Grasping at a single thread, Sa Mahyang had combed through Cheonha, searching and searching again.
She had achieved partial success, but with one final knot refusing to untie, everything remained trapped in mystery.
But just moments ago.
The instant she heard the name Muk Geon.
The moment she realized this was what Muk Yeojin had been trying to convey.
Lightning struck in Sa Mahyang’s mind.
The laboriously tangled knot came undone.
Madness slowly spread across Sa Mahyang’s eyes as she speed-read through hundreds of pages in an instant.
Then, scattering the papers into the air, she cried out:
“Master of Yeongheung-gak!”
“……Yes? Yes!”
Muk Hyeonam answered reflexively.
“Activate the Cheonju-ryeong this moment! By my authority as master of Hyeongsik-gak and regent of Sadocheon, I decree:”
“……!”
Sa Mahyang’s eyes flashed with terrible clarity.
“Arrest Muk Geon and all individuals I am about to name—immediately!”
And then, the final, falling words:
“Their crime is Yeokmo. Treason!”

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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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