Return of the Sword Emperor - Chapter 68

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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 24: Omen of Ruin (3)

“Attack!”

At Jeon Woong’s command, the Sanjuk roared as one, and Dong Elder reflexively bellowed in response.

“Kill them!”

Blades descended upon Namgung Mu in a coordinated deluge.
Snap.
A silver arc cut through the air with a short, decisive draw.
Three Sanjuk dropped to their knees where the blade had passed.
Thin crimson lines appeared across their necks and chests, then blood fountained forth.
Namgung Mu did not pause.
One step.
Two steps.
With each swing of his blade, the Sanjuk surrounding him were swept away.
Their screams were brief, their deaths briefer still.
The Sanjuk pressed forward with numbers, but numbers meant nothing before Namgung Mu’s sword.
While Namgung Mu dismantled his attackers with cold precision, Namgung Suk fought with far greater intensity.
At first glance, Namgung Suk’s blade seemed neither particularly swift nor especially sharp.
Yet each time the tip trembled, someone lost an arm or their weapon shattered. Those who dared counterattack invariably spewed blood and fell backward.
Namgung Mu and Namgung Suk moved differently, yet their results were identical.
As the encirclement crumbled in an instant, a heavy voice thundered from behind.

“Out of my way! I’m coming through!”

Dong Elder, wielding an enormous dao, burst forward.
Though he could not match the upper leadership of the Green Forest Alliance, he ranked among Baekho Chae’s top five fighters, and the aura radiating from his blade was formidable.
Namgung Mu did not evade the attack.
Dao and sword collided with violence, and a clear metallic ring sang out.
In that instant, Dong Elder’s mouth fell open.
The broken dao and severed wrist shot skyward into empty air.

“Aagh!”

As Dong Elder cried out and stumbled backward, Namgung Mu’s sword was already inscribing a second arc.

“Hck!”

Another groan escaped Dong Elder’s lips.
A sharp cutting sound, and one side of his chest burned as if branded by flame. Yet he escaped a killing blow.
It was not mere luck.
Dong Elder’s life was saved because veterans who saw his peril threw themselves at the attacker.
Dang Woo, who moments before had loudly declared that the Namgung Clan’s reputation could go to the dogs, now charged forward with a spear.
Namgung Mu twisted the tip of his blade slightly.
The sword swept the spear point aside and drove straight through the center of his opponent’s chest.
Dang Woo’s eyes bulged as he tried to grip the blade, but his hands would not obey.
When Namgung Mu withdrew his sword, a waterfall of blood poured forth.
With Dong Elder and then Dang Woo felled by a single stroke each, confidence drained instantly from the eyes of the attackers, replaced by terror.
The three surviving veterans exchanged glances with one another.
They could have fled, but they knew that turning their backs here would mean never setting foot in Baekho Chae again.
Steeling themselves, the three veterans charged in unison.
One aimed for the waist, one for the shoulder, and the last circled behind to strike from the rear.
In other circumstances, it might have been a masterfully coordinated attack. Unfortunately for them, their opponent was far too formidable.
Namgung Mu’s form blurred and three sharp cutting sounds followed in rapid succession.
The weapon of the one who aimed for the waist broke in half.
The arm of the one who aimed for the shoulder shot into the air.
A crimson line was drawn across the neck of the one who attacked from behind.
The Coordinated Attack ended almost as soon as it began, and the three collapsed without even glancing at one another.

“What kind of master swordsman is this…?”

Jeon Woong’s lips trembled helplessly as he watched the veteran fighters of Baekho Chae crumble before him.
The shouts of bandits that had shaken Heonhwa Ridge transformed swiftly into screams, then into an eerie silence.
Though more than two hundred Sanjuk still surrounded the field on all sides, they were no longer its masters.
A prodigy of the blade who had mastered all the martial arts of the Namgung Clan by his twenties and achieved perfection by his forties.
One of the absolute masters of the Jianghu, the man known as the Sword Saint, whom Namgung Hui himself—who had elevated the Namgung Clan’s renown through that very name—had alone acknowledged as his successor.
Namgung Mu’s overwhelming Martial Prowess completely dominated Heonhwa Ridge, transforming the entire battlefield itself into an extension of his will.

“Stop him!”

Jeon Woong screamed in desperation as Namgung Mu approached him, as though possessed.
The bodyguards, who existed solely to protect Jeon Woong, threw themselves forward in a desperate stand against Namgung Mu.
A whisper of steel.
It was only a single stroke.
Yet from its arc erupted a burst of pure white Sword Qi that shredded the bodies of the guards standing before him.
Through the mist of blood, Namgung Mu walked on, his robes unmarred and pristine.
It was not a battle—it was a one-sided slaughter.
As the situation spiraled toward catastrophe, Gwan Do, determined to protect Jeon Woong at any cost, gathered the elite fighters of Baekho Chae and the comrades from the Changung Unit who had been attacking the bandits, and threw them all against Namgung Mu.
Namgung Mu’s expression remained unmoved as he swept his blade through the air.
Someone’s arm flew into the void.
A man, unable even to scream, stumbled to his knees and watched his comrades collapse around him—limbs severed, necks rent—as he faded.
In the blink of an eye, all his companions lay fallen, and only Gwan Do remained.
Gwan Do’s teeth ground so hard blood wept from his gums.
There was nowhere to run.
Drawing upon every reserve of his strength, Gwan Do leaped forward and unleashed a tempestuous sword strike.
Even before such overwhelming force—so violent it seemed to warp the very air—Namgung Mu showed no trace of emotion.
A sharp whistle.
A single line of Qi born from Namgung Mu’s blade met Gwan Do’s storm of Sword Qi head-on and shattered it.
There was no sound of impact, no shockwave.
The single blow Gwan Do had poured his entire spirit into faded away with an almost serene quietness.
Staring in disbelief at the blade that had vanished without trace, leaving only the hilt in his hands, Gwan Do’s trembling eyes fixed upon Namgung Mu.
Namgung Mu’s gaze was as still and serene as an untroubled lake.

‘Damn it…’

Despair consumed Gwan Do’s entire being—the realization that their struggle, fought with their lives on the line, meant nothing more to his opponent than chasing wind.
Namgung Mu stepped forward slowly.
As he passed, Gwan Do could do nothing but sink to his knees.
It was not only Gwan Do who had been broken.
Baekho Chae, swept up in the tide of Namgung Suk and the Changung Unit’s assault, fell like autumn leaves before wind. Jeon Woong, who should have led them through their confusion, stood paralyzed; and the veteran fighters, the last bastion of resistance, had long since become cold corpses.

“Hik—!”

At the sight of Namgung Mu before his very eyes, Jeon Woong couldn’t summon the courage even to flee; he crumpled to the ground.
Namgung Mu looked down upon Jeon Woong’s form with open contempt.
But he did not move to strike.
The very fact that a Succession Dispute was unfolding meant it was deeply connected to Nok Rim Tu Wang.
Regardless of reason or circumstances, shaming Nok Rim Tu Wang in the presence of the Green Forest Alliance’s headquarters would be a considerable burden for the Namgung Clan.
Namgung Mu sheathed his blade and regarded the completely defeated Jeon Woong with cold disdain as he spoke.

“Disappear.”

* * *

The battle between Dokgo Jin and Yoo Baek, which had begun at the edges of the battlefield, reached its conclusion at its heart.
As Dokgo Jin turned away from his victory over Yoo Baek, the onslaught of the bandits had already ceased, and all now gazed upon him with eyes full of terror.

“You really are something…….”

Yu Seollan swept back her sweat-dampened hair with a bright smile.
She remembered vividly how brilliantly Dokgo Jin had performed against the elders and senior masters of Madoryeon at the Chamhoeyeok, yet his opponent now seemed even stronger.
A Quick Blade technique unlike anything she’d ever seen, concealing hidden Sword Technique Changes within it.
As Yu Seollan tried to gauge how long she herself might last against such speed, she shook her head.

‘Even at my best, three seconds perhaps—or maybe my neck would fly on the first strike.’

Yoo Baek’s blade was so shockingly fast that Yu Seollan found herself unconsciously touching her throat.

“Looks like your side’s finished as well.”

Dokgo Jin glanced at the fallen Black Moon Unit members as he spoke.

“Not quite finished. Half of them fled the moment you took victory. But the fighting does seem to be over.”

As Yu Seollan said, the brigands no longer dared to raise their weapons. Dokgo Jin’s display of Martial Prowess had been simply overwhelming.

“Should we really just let that man go like this?”

Namgung Ho, his body stained with blood from the fierce clash, gestured toward Jo Sa-eung, who was trembling in fear.

“The Chongchaejoo said so himself. No matter what happens, Jo Sa-eung’s life must be preserved. He’s a disciple of the Nok Rim Tu Wang, after all, however inadequate.”
“The way things stand, I think we can withdraw from here.”

Yu Seollan nodded at Dokgo Jin’s words.

“That works. The master of this battlefield isn’t us anyway—it’s the Taechung Escort Agency.”

Mae Goon Sang caught Yu Seollan’s eye and nodded, then turned his steps toward Jo Sa-eung.

“It seems we need to renegotiate.”

Blood flowing from his shoulder drenched his entire frame, and despite his certain victory, Mae Goon Sang’s demeanor remained courteous—a sight both harrowing and unsettling to behold.

“…….”

Jo Sa-eung could not find his voice.

“Shall we continue?”

As Mae Goon Sang pressed again, Jo Sa-eung gazed across the battlefield with hollow eyes.
His uncle Jo Geuk and most of the veteran masters of Heukgol Chae had fallen dead or lay crippled with mortal wounds; the Sanchae’s own forces and those who had come as reinforcements had suffered grievously as well.
Most of all, with Madoryeon—the faction he had trusted most—lying shattered, there was nothing left for him to do.

“We will withdraw.”

Joy bloomed across the faces of those who had been awaiting this declaration of surrender. But Mae Goon Sang’s expression remained utterly blank.

“Following custom, we will pay the Passage Toll.”

Despite his complete victory, Mae Goon Sang’s mention of collecting the Passage Toll made Jo Sa-eung’s face cloud with confusion.

“Given recent circumstances, I’d initially considered demanding five times the usual toll. My mention of ten times was, to be honest, a means of avoiding this fight. So I will take only the five-fold toll as I first intended.”
“But, how can that…….”
“Let us regard today’s events as an unfortunate accident. A tragic occurrence born of inevitable circumstances.”
“…….”

Jo Sa-eung stared silently at Mae Goon Sang’s sunken, hollow eyes.
It was not the arrogance of a victor, nor magnanimity, nor pity.
Jo Sa-eung, sensing the genuine concern in Mae Goon Sang’s heart—his desire not to damage relations between the Taechung Escort Agency and Heukgol Chae—nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

“Thank you for your consideration. The passage toll, then—according to custom…….”
“No. Even so, I must collect five times the standard rate for it to be of any real help.”

Understanding his position perfectly, Mae Goon Sang’s measured courtesy drew from Jo Sa-eung a low bow of gratitude.

“I am grateful. I shall never forget this kindness shown today.”

From a distance, Yu Seollan watched the two men with an expression of mild surprise.

“Quite impressive. Pressed into a corner as he is, to bow before so many watching eyes—that takes nerve.”
“A true leader must know when to bend. Better than expected, this one.” Namgung Ho offered his own approval.

Though both Yu Seollan and Namgung Ho praised Jo Sa-eung’s bearing, Dokgo Jin merely smiled coldly to himself.

“How will he view today’s events? Will he harbor only goodwill toward the Taechung Escort Agency, or will he carry it as a debt of gratitude—or perhaps as a grudge to repay someday?”

Dokgo Jin did not wait for an answer.
Even before his regression, Jo Sa-eung had received help from countless people, yet had never once repaid a single kindness.
When no longer useful, he turned his back. When in the way, he drew his blade.
After becoming the leader of the Green Forest Alliance, this nature only deepened.
A thin, cold smile crossed Dokgo Jin’s lips.

‘That man will never change.’

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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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