The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 11

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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 11.
“So, to sum it up—your benefactor Yak Sang is in danger, is that it?”
Seo Ryong recapitulated what he’d heard from Moo Hyun in a measured voice.
“Based on the formation you set up, four Second-Class Martial Artists are after the sword hilt he possesses.”
“Hack! Hack! Cough! Y-yes… hack!”
Moo Hyun tried to nod in agreement, but he couldn’t manage it.
Seo Ryong had him by the scruff of the neck, dangling him as they went.
And the speed of a Peak Realm martial artist was something even a frail man like Moo Hyun couldn’t endure.
“Dear me—is this pace too swift?”
Hearing Moo Hyun’s coughing, Seo Ryong slowed for a moment and checked his condition.
“My apologies. I didn’t properly gauge your state.”
“Hack! Ah… hack! No, it’s not that. Gasp…”
Moo Hyun caught his breath and continued.
“Gasp… I asked you to do this—why should you apologize? I didn’t know I’d be this worn out either.”
Getting Seo Ryong, who’d been roiling with hesitation, to agree by mentioning urgency had been a stroke of luck.
Even asking to be carried so they could hurry had posed no problem.
But Moo Hyun had failed to factor in something he couldn’t handle.
‘Got cocky because I’d improved a little, didn’t I? Can’t even keep up my end like this.’
At the foolishness of it—as if his mind had regressed along with his body—Moo Hyun grimaced.
His entire body drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged, he seemed scarcely capable of going further.
Yet they couldn’t afford to waste time here.
Those men couldn’t break through the formation itself, but they could easily take hostages from the surrounding crowd to force the issue.
“I’m sorry. Could you go on ahead? I’ll catch my breath here and then pursue on foot.”
At Moo Hyun’s words, Seo Ryong shrugged.
“That’s no problem, but I don’t know the geography of this place.”
Market Street in Hobuk boasted complex terrain befitting its long history.
“You’ll manage. At this distance, you ought to be able to locate it with your Energy Perception.”
“Is it truly that close?”
“On my legs, it’d take me a quarter hour. But for you, finding it shouldn’t be difficult.”
Moo Hyun strained to look up at Seo Ryong, his lips curving into a weak smile.
“Your Energy Perception far exceeds ordinary standards, after all.”
At those words, Seo Ryong let out a soft chuckle.
“I don’t recall ever telling you the limits of my Energy Perception.”
“And I’ve never properly explained my own mind to you either.”
“Ha! True enough!”
Seo Ryong turned, his laugh echoing freely as he drew upon his Energy Perception.
In that instant, the boundary between Seo Ryong’s form and the night sky of Hobuk
seemed to blur and fade.
“There.”
Less than a breath later, Seo Ryong nodded toward the direction of the medicine shop.
“Impressive. What’s the situation now?”
“Moo Hyun—you said there were four Second-Class Martial Artists, yes?”
“That’s right. The formation I set—the Gwan Hyun Byeok Young Formation—detected them.”
“The Gwan Hyun Byeok Young Formation. I’m not dismissing the Jegal Clan’s formations,
but Seo Ryong turned with a gravely serious expression.
“Could the number of enemies you’ve detected be wrong?”
Moo Hyun hesitated at the question, delaying his response.
“The number itself can’t be wrong. But there is a criterion by which I define an ‘enemy.'”
“What criterion?”
“An opponent with enough Internal Energy reserves to pose a genuine threat.”
Hearing this, Seo Ryong nodded slowly.
“Then it makes sense.”
At the vague answer, Moo Hyun tilted his head.
“Is there someone else there?”
“A First-Class Martial Artist. Nearly at Peak Realm.”
“What?”
At Seo Ryong’s casual reply, Moo Hyun thought he’d misheard and asked again.
“An ordinary person with no Internal Energy, four Second-Class Martial Artists. And one First-Class Martial Artist. But he’s dying.”
***
Whoosh—thwack!
“Crack!”
An arrow shot through the darkness pierced the Unknown Swordsman’s shoulder.
“Agh! Sir, sir!”
“Don’t come near!”
Hwang Yak Sang flinched in alarm and moved toward the Unknown Swordsman, but the latter raised a hand to stop him.
“If you step outside that unknown formation, the old man dies on the spot.”
“Yes, yes….”
Hwang Yak Sang stood within the Gwan Hyun Byeok Young Formation that Moo Hyun had set up and nodded quickly.
When he’d been about to close the shop and head home, the sudden flight of arrows made him think his heart would stop.
Yet remarkably, the arrows struck an invisible green barrier that had materialized and could advance no further.
Then four masked martial artists appeared and assailed the barrier, but true to the Jegal Clan’s formations, it remained unmoved.
It was then that this Unknown Swordsman had appeared, stepping between the masked assailants and the shop.
‘Good heavens, did such a thing really have to happen?’
Hwang Yak Sang recalled Moo Hyun’s words about setting up the formation.
He’d been grateful, certainly—but he’d never truly believed something like this would occur.
Yet here it was, happening before his eyes.
Hwang Yak Sang watched as the blood-drenched Unknown Swordsman, breathing heavily, entered the shop.
Hwang Yak Sang recognized him.
It was the very man who had taken a handful of herbs from his shop the night before without so much as paying for them.
More than that, he’d left behind some nameless wooden box before vanishing without a trace.
According to Moo Hyun, this man was the reason he’d been drawn into such a predicament.
And now that same man, bleeding far more profusely than yesterday, stood defending the shop against four masked attackers who had stormed in without warning.
Though ignorant of martial arts, Hwang Yak Sang, who had witnessed countless wounds, could tell well enough.
Which was precisely why he was shocked.
The injuries on the man before him were of a severity that standing should have been impossible.
The Unknown Swordsman exhaled roughly, his voice strained.
“Hm… With you four, that makes ten. Don’t you think it’s about time you told me where you’re all coming from?”
From the scarred, wounded man with wild dark hair and deep brown skin, fierce eyes glinting above a torn mouth, his fractured voice rang out most threateningly.
Yet the masked assailant seemed unbothered.
Rather, there was no response at all.
‘Damn it, I need to catch my breath somehow.’
Over the past six months, the Unknown Swordsman had been hunted ten times by these masked figures working in concert.
They bore no discernible affiliation, and their martial techniques were unlike anything he’d encountered before.
But their purpose was unmistakable.
‘Do they really hunger so for our clan’s annihilation?’
He had repelled the previous nine encounters by whatever means necessary, but the Unknown Swordsman could feel it now.
‘Today is the day I die.’
His Internal Energy was nearly spent, and his physical strength had abandoned him entirely.
His hands trembled so that he could barely grip his sword properly.
His battered body was already surrendering, begging him to set down the blade and find peace.
Yet the Unknown Swordsman could not.
‘Master, another death because of my carelessness.’
He had thought he could lose them completely.
So he’d simply ducked into a nearby herb shop and left behind the secret treasure.
Because of that small action, the old man trembling in back now faced death.
Without that mysterious barrier behind him, he would already be dead.
‘…A formation like that can’t be something an herb shop owner would install. So someone must have set it up for him.’
Of course, expecting that person to arrive now and aid him was absurd.
It wasn’t the imperial palace—how could the architect of a formation installed on Market Street detect its activation instantly?
Such a level of response was impossible to expect.
‘So I have to make as much noise as I can. I need anyone, anyone, to know what’s happening here.’
The Unknown Swordsman raised the sword in his hand.
Though its weight was almost unbearable, such things no longer mattered.
‘One person dying because of my stupidity is enough, isn’t it? Master.’
The Unknown Swordsman began the Footwork he’d drilled thousands, tens of thousands of times, beaten into him by his master.
‘So help me just this once!’
“Aaaahhh!”
Though barely able to move, let alone summon Internal Energy, the Unknown Swordsman cried out and charged toward the masked assailants.
The leader among them, a masked figure wielding a sword at the front, didn’t so much as blink at the sight.
Clang—
Without Internal Energy backing the blow, the Unknown Swordsman’s sword strike was easily deflected.
The masked figure holding the sword then raised one hand, and the masked figure standing behind with a spear stepped forward.
Seeing this, the Unknown Swordsman grasped what they were about to do.
“That damned Combined Formation again!”
The masked figures made no reply to his words, moving instead into position.
The spear aimed for his lower body; the sword for his upper.
“Not a chance!”
Clang—
He had seen this attack countless times before, so the Unknown Swordsman parried it with skill.
He drew a great circle with his blade, deflecting both strikes simultaneously.
Whoosh—
“Damn!”
The technique was sound, but his strength was spent.
The spear point, not fully turned aside, grazed the outer edge of his thigh.
The blow threw him off balance.
“…!”
In that instant, the two masked figures in front split left and right.
At the same moment, a third masked figure came into view—one who had been drawing a bow all along.
If only his Internal Energy had recovered, or at least his body had been whole, he could have dodged.
But unfortunately, neither condition held true.
‘…Damn it.’
The Unknown Swordsman sensed this was his end.
‘I’m sorry, old man. Because of me….’
He had failed not merely to cause a disturbance, but even to resist.
He was too helpless to accomplish anything.
Suddenly, he thought that his entire life had been one of empty ambition—a life of striving that had achieved nothing.
Then came a flood of regrets, wave upon wave: if only this, if only that.
But there was nothing to be done.
Only to close his eyes and wait for the death that was coming.
“…?”
Yet something was wrong.
The arrow should have been loosed long ago, but he felt no pain—indeed, nothing at all.
“…What?”
Confused, the Unknown Swordsman slowly opened his eyes.
What he saw was utterly unexpected.
The masked figures’ gaze was fixed not on him, but behind him.
It was the place where the archer had been standing.
There, beside the corpse of the archer—neck severed, bow still in hand—stood a single man.
A broad-featured face, handsome enough to recognize from ten leagues away.
Blue robes of such fine quality that even a child could tell their worth at a glance.
The man stood holding his sword lightly, not a drop of blood upon it, and smiled at Hwang Yak Sang with an easy, reassuring expression.
“You are Hwang Yak Sang, are you not?”
At the man’s question, Hwang Yak Sang asked in bewilderment, “Y-yes, but… who… who are you?”
“I’m sorry—I should have introduced myself first.”
Seo Ryong offered a formal bow as he spoke.
“I am Seo Ryong of the Namgung Clan, a friend of Moo Hyun. Are you well?”
“N-Namgung?!”
At the sudden mention of one of the Five Great Clans, Hwang Yak Sang’s mouth fell open.
Then, all at once, a memory surfaced—words that Moo Hyun had spoken to him earlier that day.
“Could it be… the old friend that the young master said would arrive today…?”
“Haha, is that how he introduced me? Yes, that would be me indeed.”
Seo Ryong smiled with evident satisfaction.
“Ah, oh! Oh! Young master… young master! Thank you!”
At this, Hwang Yak Sang fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
He had realized that Moo Hyun had known of the danger he faced and had sent Seo Ryong to protect him.
Meanwhile, the Unknown Swordsman, witnessing all this, still could not grasp what had just occurred.
“…Namgung, you say?”
It was a name even this man—who had spent his entire life training in the mountains before today’s ambush—knew well.
The Greatest Sword Family Under Heaven.

When he was young, the man who heard that arrogant name once asked his master about it.
“Master, is it really true that Namgung is the Greatest Sword Family Under Heaven? Aren’t we supposed to be the best?”
“Hmm? Where did you pick up such nonsense?”
“Well, the herb gatherers keep going on about it! They said we’re the best, but they just laugh it off….”
The master chuckled at the crestfallen man and spoke in a gentle voice.
“If we’re speaking purely of martial prowess, our school would rank higher. However….”
Whoosh—
In an instant, the masked figure who had been holding nothing threw a hidden blade.
The speed was so tremendous that by the time the man noticed, it seemed to have already struck Seo Ryong.
Thud!
“What—!”
But then the man witnessed something that made him gasp in shock.
Though the masked figure had thrown the blade, it was embedded not in Seo Ryong’s flesh, but in the masked figure’s own forehead.
“…Truly?”
Using the Flower Redirection Technique, he had turned the attack back upon its sender.
And the entire maneuver had been invisible.
Unlike the man’s astonishment, Seo Ryong brushed off his hands as if it were nothing.
“I must say, this situation is rather convenient.”
Then Seo Ryong’s form seemed to become one with the surrounding landscape.
The man watching understood at once.
This Seo Ryong, who appeared younger than himself, had reached a realm beyond his grasp.
The Peak Realm.
“Since I can identify friend from foe so clearly.”
Before Seo Ryong’s words had finished, the masked swordsman and the masked spearman deployed the Combined Formation that had just caught the man off guard.
Seo Ryong raised his sword without a word.
His face, always wearing a smile, now bore an expression utterly devoid of emotion.
As those two eyes blazed with cold azure light, the sword in his grip resonated with a sharp cry.
Keeeeeep—
And then the man beheld it.
Though it was the depths of night, with nothing but moon and stars to pierce the darkness—
A sight unfolded before him like broad daylight, or rather a blue sky he had never seen even at high noon.
It was the very emblem of a swordsman who had reached the Peak Realm, which he had yearned so desperately to achieve.
“…Sword Aura.”
Crack!
With that sharp sound, both masked figures were hurled backward simultaneously.
At the same moment, their weapons shattered completely.
Then Seo Ryong struck their Paralysis Points in an instant, sealing their movements.
“I’ll spare your lives for now. I need to know who you are.”
At this incredible sight, the man let out a hollow laugh.
“…This doesn’t make sense….”
Seo Ryong had not even swung his blade.
He had merely held it where the enemy’s attack would arrive, and yet the foes were driven back instead.
It was the mastery of Heavy Sword technique that Namgung prided itself upon.
Only then could the man finally relax.
Thump—
As the tension drained away, his exhausted body collapsed like rotting timber.
‘You lied to me, Master.’
The man smiled softly to himself, recalling his master’s assessment of Namgung.
“If we judge by clan strength, Namgung is certainly first.”
First if we judge by clan strength? I cannot agree.
Namgung’s sword will be the greatest in all the land.

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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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