The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 2

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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 2.
Celestial Mechanics.
Literally, the secrets of heaven.
It seems grandiose, yet it is merely a discipline of study.
Reading the movements of stars through Celestial Astronomy to predict the near future—anyone with knowledge of Qimen Dunjia, the I Ching, Astrology, and other such disciplines could attempt it.
It is not simple, but with deeper mastery, one could divine the fate of vast powers and organizations.
Mu Heun was among the rare few of his age to have reached such heights.
And precisely because he had, he understood the limits of Celestial Mechanics.
‘Celestial Mechanics does not reveal everything.’
What it showed was never clear-cut.
Before the war, he had anticipated enemies appearing in the Martial World.
But he had assumed it would be an invasion by Evil Sects or the Demonic Cult—never the Imperial Palace itself.
The inauspicious signs had not been severe enough to warrant great concern.
That was Mu Heun’s miscalculation.
Complacency had narrowed his own vision.
Had he anticipated and prepared, he might well have turned them back.
The other limitation was the price exacted for reading and speaking Celestial Mechanics aloud.
The common term for this was the cost of Celestial Mechanics Divulgence.
It began small—stumbling over a stone, hair falling out—but some paid dearly with grave illness.
That was the price of Celestial Mechanics Divulgence.
Mu Heun had been spared the worst of it.
Born with Severed Meridian Syndrome, he seemed to pay no greater cost than anyone else.
Or so he had believed. Until the Martial World came to this.
Of course, Mu Heun’s divulgence was not solely the cause of it all.
He had never abused it enough to warrant such consequences.
Yet was there not some small share of blame upon him?
That thought pressed heavy upon his heart.
‘Still, at least now I can lay this burden down, even slightly.’
Mu Heun wore a faint smile as he walked toward the center of Chilseong-won.
The interior of Chilseong-won, devoid of any flame, was not as dark as one might expect.
Moonlight poured through a circular opening in the roof’s apex.
Mu Heun stopped beneath the light, before a pillar that rose to about waist height.
A turquoise Reclining Dragon ornament, like the handle at the entrance, gleamed in the moonlight.
According to the records of Jeongal Moohu, he had read Celestial Mechanics most clearly through this very opening atop Taebaeksan.
Mu Heun raised his gaze to the heavens from the same place as his ancestor.
“Hm?”
Yet the Celestial Mechanics were exactly as they had been before he climbed the mountain.
The star symbolizing the Imperial Palace bore an auspicious sign and swept across the stars of the Martial World.
It had not moved an inch from that configuration.
The Imperial Palace had halted its advance.
“Is the Imperial Palace… taking time to reorganize?”
It was a strange judgment.
If they pressed forward, they could surely devour the Martial World entirely.
Given the state of the battlefield, there was no reason to withdraw and rest.
It was then that Mu Heun sensed something amiss.
Boom!!
“?!”
A tremendous crash echoed from beyond the sealed gate at the entrance, shaking Chilseong-won.
‘…An earthquake?’
No.
If it were an earthquake, the sound would not have come from the entrance.
Mu Heun’s gaze turned naturally toward the gate.
Boom!
Again, as if on cue, another enormous crash shook Chilseong-won.
‘Someone is attacking the entrance of Chilseong-won!’
The stone gate of Chilseong-won’s entrance boasted a thickness of one dan.
And it was no ordinary rock.
It was stone infused with the Formation of Jeongal Moohu, a figure of legend.
Ordinary physical force would not even scratch it.

Thus, to attack it and bring it down was impossible.
Then the opponent must be an existence capable of turning the impossible into the possible.
‘…A master of the Transformation Realm?’
The Transformation Realm—the pinnacle of martial prowess.
The Subspecies Realm, which perhaps only ten masters throughout the entire Martial World had reached.
Most of the Martial World’s figures at that level had lost their lives during the war.
Those still living had no leisure to come here.
Then it had to be a master from the Imperial Palace’s side.
In that moment, a single thread of thought flashed through Mu Heun’s mind.
The reason the Imperial Palace’s advance had suddenly halted.
A master with overwhelming destructive power—enough to shatter Jeongal Moohu’s Formation Array.
‘Could it be that General Sang Yeo… came in person?’
It was a conclusion that defied reason, but Mu Heun was certain of it.
The one who had felled his old friend and lord of the Martial Alliance, Namgung Seolyong.
That same figure was now trying to tear down the entrance to Chilseong-won.
‘Why? How?’
No one knew that Mu Heun was coming here.
He had departed alone, telling no one—not the Alliance, not even his own servants.
Yet the Imperial Palace had sent someone, and none other than its supreme military commander.
Someone who had discerned his purpose and pierced through that sinister mechanism.
‘Even reading Celestial Mechanics, one cannot perceive such small movements….’
However he had discovered it, Mu Heun had no time to ponder.
Boom—
“…There is nothing to be done about it.”
There was no way to stop a master of that caliber anyway.
With that thought, Mu Heun recovered his composure.
The sound was closer than before.
It meant Sang Yeo’s assault was getting through.
Judging from the magnitude and Chilseong-won’s trembling, he estimated perhaps a quarter of the way.
It had become a race of speed—whose would act first, Sang Yeo’s martial power or Mu Heun’s array activation.
Cough—
Mu Heun spat up blood-tinged phlegm and placed his hand on the Wa Yong ornament.
It was the control mechanism that moved Chilseong-won’s roof to adjust the position where the stars were visible.
‘Fundamentally, that is its purpose….’
According to the records, it could also be used to activate a Forbidden Ritual.
A Forbidden Ritual that altered Celestial Mechanics—created by Jeongal Moohu at the end of his life to extend his own lifespan.
Unfortunately, he had not been able to employ that Forbidden Ritual here in Chilseong-won.
Jeongal Moohu, who had to command the main battlefield, ended up performing the Forbidden Ritual in abbreviated form at Ojang-won, the primary theater of war.
And absurdly, a general of the same nation extinguished the candle he was using for the Forbidden Ritual, causing it to fail.
Some cursed that general, saying Jeongal Moohu’s Forbidden Ritual would have succeeded without him, but Mu Heun’s thoughts differed somewhat.
‘Even creating the circumstances to twist Celestial Mechanics is impossible without heaven’s aid.’
In that sense, having reached this place, Mu Heun was confident his own Forbidden Ritual would succeed ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent.
The remaining fraction was if Sang Yeo broke through that door faster than expected.
As for the other fraction….
‘If heaven is unsatisfied with the price I offer.’
Merely extending one’s lifespan would be entirely possible.
But the Forbidden Ritual Mu Heun intended to perform was a complete reverse-engineering of the design Jeongal Moohu had left behind.
Adding several more formations, he had transformed it into a completely different incantation yielding a different result.
Not extending the fate granted by heaven, but swapping the positions of two fates.
In other words, changing the Auspicious Sign that tilted entirely toward the Imperial Palace into one favoring the Martial World.
And this, surely, was the reason Sang Yeo had come in person.
‘Once he suspected the intention, he could not simply let it pass.’
Could the position of the stars be changed?
Of course—that was impossible.
Yet the stars contain fate within them.
Swapping the positions of those fates was possible.
‘If one paid a suitable price for it….’
Click—
As Mu Heun made several manipulations, blue flames erupted from seven torches arranged in a corner of Chilseong-won.
Rumble—
The floor in front of the pillar where the Wa Yong ornament stood opened, and a stone altar rose up from below.
It was the place to lay down the price.
Thud!
At the same moment, another thunderous sound echoed from beyond the entrance.
The noise drew closer.
It seemed the door would give way before long.
Mu Heun moved without hesitation, stepping up onto the altar.
“Huh.”
Exhaling softly, Mu Heun watched as the azure energy that had begun its journey from the seven torches crept across the floor and drew near to the altar.
Ever since he had resolved to perform this Forbidden Technique, he had wrestled with what price to offer.
After much deliberation, the price he had settled upon was Mu Heun himself.
Fifty-eight years old, a sickly man with little life remaining.
Such a life could never be a price sufficient to overturn fate.
But what of the history created by that existence?
Everything Jeongal Moohu had contributed to the Martial World.
The few victories hard-won in war.
The mechanisms and weapons painstakingly crafted.
The influence cast upon the world in the course of living.
The love of parents necessary for his birth.
The circumstances of a noble household that demanded two sons.
Before that, before that — every possibility through which Jeongal Moohu could have come into being.
All the threads of cause and effect woven around Mu Heun would become the price.
Then Jeongal Moohu would vanish from history.
Not death.
Never to have existed at all.
Jeongal Moohu had recorded that the price for extending one’s lifespan was “great.”
So there was no way to know what he had offered in that failed Forbidden Technique.
But what Mu Heun offered would be no less than that.
After all, as the founder, his name had been transmitted down to this very day.
Cough!
Mu Heun spat up blood once more.
The azure energy emanating from the torches had by now reached the altar where Mu Heun stood.
Simultaneously, blue flames began to rise from the altar’s surface.
“Ah…”
Then the blue flames transferred to Mu Heun’s body.
Mu Heun felt relief wash over him.
It meant the altar had accepted the price.
It was not hot.
Rather, the more the flames spread across him, the more at ease his heart became.
‘Perhaps this is what Oblivion feels like.’
His memories did not disappear.
It was simply a peace he had never known in all his years, so Mu Heun thought that Oblivion too might be akin to this sensation.
What did it matter?
Soon no one would remember Mu Heun’s existence.
Kwaboom!
The thunder rolled even closer now.
By his estimate, less than a foot away.
The next blow would bring the walls crashing down, but it made no difference.
By the time Sang Yeo entered, the Forbidden Technique would already be complete.
‘Fortunately, we are not too late.’
Mu Heun smiled faintly.
He harbored no regret.
The Jianghu had given him life.
The dear friends, the family, the loved ones who had made him who he was — all were part of the Jianghu.
To lose them and yet cling to a name left behind — would such a life have meaning?
He did not believe so, and thus Mu Heun closed his eyes in contentment.
Or so he meant to do.
Until he saw the two characters inscribed on the altar’s floor.
—Impossible.
“What—”
Cough!
The moment Mu Heun saw the characters, he coughed up blood and cried out.
Mu Heun, now transparent even at the shoulders, watched his blood vanish before it could touch the ground.
“Don’t spout nonsense! Isn’t the price being paid?! To accept it and then say it’s impossible?!”
Mu Heun’s voice rang out sharp with fury, trembling like metal striking metal.
But the flames clinging to his body did not relent.
“This… this cursed thing! This cannot be! How! How…!”
Mu Heun tried to spit out every curse that flooded his mind.
But the fire already climbing his throat left him voiceless.
With his mouth sealed by flame, Mu Heun wept tears of blood in frustration.
As if mocking him, the fire crawled along his tears and spread across his face.
In that instant, at the center of Chilseong-won bathed in moonlight.
New characters materialized rapidly at the very spot where Mu Heun had read the word impossible.
—Artificially Twisted Fate Cannot Be Changed Once Set
—Origin Severing Root Restriction
—Obtaining the Way
—Send Soul to the Past
“…?!”
Crash!!
At that very moment, the entrance to Chilseong-won collapsed.
General Sang Yeo had finally breached the impregnable gate.
But Mu Heun could not see the face of his friend’s enemy.
The blue flames had already burned away most of his eyes.
A blurred silhouette—a man holding a spear.
That was the last sight to fill Mu Heun’s vision.
‘Am I… sighing?’
With that brief question as his last thought, Mu Heun’s consciousness severed.
***
“Gasp!”
Mu Heun’s eyes snapped open as he drew in a sharp breath.
“…What?”
Yes. His eyes opened.
Even though he had offered his very existence as the price and been consumed by blue flames.
And what met his gaze was a ceiling he knew well.
There was no way Mu Heun could fail to recognize the style of its construction.
“This is…”
Mu Heun looked around in confusion.
Then something entered his field of vision that made clear exactly where he was.
The family seat. When Mu Heun lived in the Jeongal Clan’s main house, the servants had always kept medicinal broth and water close at hand by his bed, for he was often ill.
And now, in that very spot, medicinal broth and water sat waiting.
“My… room?”
Mu Heun was certain this was his chamber.
Not the room at the Martial Alliance.
The house where he had lived for twenty-three years before joining the Alliance.
His room in the Jeongal Clan.
Judging by how dim the chamber was, it appeared to be night.
Mu Heun looked around in bewilderment.
As a strategist, he had always striven to maintain composure.
But now that seemed impossible.
He wondered how many times in his life he had ever been this shaken.
“…Huh.”
Mu Heun wiped his face with his palm.
His hand came away slick with sweat.
‘What in the world happened?’
Mu Heun methodically retraced his memories.
The first thing that came to mind was a dim image of Sang Yeo’s sigh.
But more important than that was the inscription that had appeared on the ground before it.
‘The first line said that an artificially created fate cannot be changed.’
In other words, before Mu Heun had attempted to twist Celestial Mechanics, someone had already altered fate.
And because of that altered fate, the Imperial Palace had come to the brink of devouring the entire Martial World.
‘Did the Imperial Palace possess such Celestial Astronomy technique?’
He didn’t know, but it was hardly shocking.
The Jeongal Clan, a mere family clan, possessed such knowledge.
Ming, which had unified the Central Plain, would certainly have it.
What was astonishing was the specificity—reading Mu Heun’s individual actions and sending Sang Yeo directly in response.
‘To twist fate, one must first change the artificial fate that was created,’ he’d said.
But he had already declared in the first passage that artificially twisted fate cannot be changed once set.
‘So the method offered was….’
Mu Heun reached for the bowl of water placed beside the medicinal broth.
He rose from the bed and opened the door slightly to let moonlight spill inside.
It happened to be a full moon, and bright light flooded the room.
By that light, gazing down into the water-filled bowl, Mu Heun stifled a hollow laugh.
“Heh.”
The face reflected in the water was that of a young man not yet twenty.
Skin so pale it was nearly white, with features so fine that one might struggle to tell whether he was male or female.
A somewhat absurd expression, the corners of his mouth slightly raised.
Himself as a youth—someone he thought he would never see again—looked back at him from within that bowl.
In that moment, Mu Heun understood precisely what had happened.
‘…Send Soul to the Past.’
I cannot change it for you, so I send you back.
You must change it yourself.
That’s what it meant.
“Phew….”
Mu Heun exhaled deeply.
“The weight of it all.”
Mu Heun let out a worried murmur to himself.
He understood that either the Imperial Palace or someone else had artificially twisted the celestial mechanics.
But knowing that—what good did it do?
‘…What can I possibly do?’
He wouldn’t know the exact date until daybreak, but judging by the youth in his reflection, he was not quite twenty.
The Bureaucratic Martial Arts Inviolability was still firmly in place.
In such circumstances, to send someone to the Imperial Palace on mere suspicion?
It was absurd.
The current Mu Heun was in no position to move anyone.
Reaching a position where such things were possible would not come until after forty.
And going himself?
With a body so sickly he could barely manage daily life, much less martial arts?
Face with such dire circumstances, Mu Heun felt his chest tighten with despair.
‘…What choice is there? I cannot refuse. I must try.’
Mu Heun pushed the door fully open and looked up at the night sky.
The celestial mechanics that had not yet sided with anyone came into view.
The stars merely displayed their light in pristine purity.
Watching them, his heart eased a little.
‘In any case, knowing what the future holds is a great weapon.’
Mu Heun understood that information was more valuable than anything else.
And he had confidence in how to use it.
No matter what, the result would be far better than his previous life.
‘It would have been nice if he’d healed the illness too, but I mustn’t complain.’
As his mind grew lighter, a pleasant fact he had forgotten suddenly came to him.
‘At this point, Father and my elder brother should still be alive.’
The thought of seeing them both brought a natural smile to his face.
Seeing his father especially—it would be the first time in thirty-nine years.
He would have to wait another two hours until daybreak to see them, but that was bearable.
‘I can’t let them see me looking haggard after all this time. I should rest a little…but.’
Mu Heun flared his nostrils slightly.
“Something’s been strange from the moment I opened my eyes.”
A scent he had never encountered in his life stimulated his nose.
At first he thought it might be the medicinal broth.
But Mu Heun remembered all the herbs that had gone into the broth he had consumed before.
This scent was fundamentally different from all of them.
The fragrance was far too tantalizing to ignore.
‘Where is the source of this scent?’
A cypress tree standing in the gardens of the Jeongal Clan’s estate entered Mu Heun’s field of vision.
More precisely, it was beneath the ground where the tree stood.
An ancient tree, said to have been planted on the day Jeongal Moohu died.
Naturally, Mu Heun had gazed upon this tree his entire life, yet never once had it carried such a scent.
But the strangest thing lay elsewhere.
“…Has something gone wrong with my eyes?”
From the earth where the fragrance rose, wisps of golden smoke were ascending into the air.

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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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