The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 26

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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 26.
Dok Go Hyeon stared down at his left leg, which trembled uncontrollably.
Standing was difficult, but nothing was broken.
‘So this is… an application of Chukgol-gong, is it?’
A martial art that could twist the skeleton and completely transform one’s physique. Chukgol-gong.
What Dok Go Hyeon had suffered was an attack that applied this principle, displacing the position of his bones.
‘The day before yesterday it was the shoulder… yesterday the leg… so what will it be today?’
Looking at the process alone, Ryeong’s training was straightforward.
Even if the difficulty was absurdly high.
Dok Go Hyeon recalled his confrontation with Ryeong three days ago, wooden sword in hand.
—Seolfalpjein is not simply moving quickly. All martial arts have their own inherent flow. Cutting off that beginning—that is what truly grasping the line means.
Dok Go Hyeon had asked in response.
—It’s just you and me here. Are you telling me to grasp your line?
—That is correct.
—You’re far stronger than I am. How is that possible?
—I will not use my internal power, so there is no risk of death.
—I hadn’t thought about it that far. Well, let’s give it a try.
Ryeong nodded and extended all ten fingers.
—From now on, ten times. Attack me whenever you choose, young Dok Go.
—What? I thought I was supposed to cut off your attack?
—Watch and learn from me. For ten attempts, I will cut off every attack you make at the moment it is being executed.
—Ten times? Hmm, that won’t be easy.
—It presents no problem whatsoever.
At that, Dok Go Hyeon raised one eyebrow.
—I’m being thoroughly underestimated.
Even at Dok Go Hyeon’s heated tone, Ryeong didn’t bat an eye.
—If you fail on your tenth attack, I will strike once afterward. Try to grasp the line of that attack.
Dok Go Hyeon shrugged.
—That’s all? There’s nothing else?
—That is the entirety of the training.
—So, what if I manage to block your attack or land a hit on the first day?
—Training ends immediately.
—Ha.
At that stark response, Dok Go Hyeon let out a hollow laugh.
—This is too much. You really think I can’t manage that much?
Ryeong shook his head, denying Dok Go Hyeon’s words.
—I advanced you to this stage because I held your learned martial arts in high regard.
—What?
—Normally, I teach internal cultivation first for the martial arts I have mastered. However, you need only the insight into technique, so there is no necessity for that.
Ryeong nodded casually and continued.
—Of course, martial art and the person are separate things.
At the obvious provocation, Dok Go Hyeon’s expression twisted before he let out a sharp laugh.
—You’ll regret those words.
Ryeong’s face remained blank as he lifted his shoulders slightly, and in that instant, Dok Go Hyeon’s sword shot forward.
Or rather, tried to.
Crack—
—…Huh?
The moment his lower body shifted to launch the attack, Ryeong’s sword flicked the tip of Dok Go Hyeon’s blade aside.
—One opportunity spent.
At Ryeong’s calm words, the smile vanished from Dok Go Hyeon’s face.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t been taking it seriously—this was training toward the completion of the Pa-gi Style.
Yet as a martial artist whose pride had been needled, Dok Go Hyeon’s concentration burned with particular intensity.
Still, all he had gained on that first day was a dislocated left shoulder.
‘…I gave it everything.’
By the end, he had tried to attack using both his step technique and his internal power.
But the moment he tried to thrust, he was stopped.
—The tenth attempt.
Dok Go Hyeon, conversely, had not grasped Ryeong’s attack at all.
Even knowing the blade would come flying the moment his attack was blocked.
Ryeong spoke to Dok Go Hyeon, who had been knocked sprawling, his expression unmoved.
His shoulder is merely dislocated. With proper energy cultivation, it should heal.
Damn it all….
However, you must not attempt energy cultivation.
What?
And from now on, sleep is forbidden. Of course, you cannot ride in the carriage either.
Dok Go Hyeon stared up at Ling with an expression of utter disbelief, but the answer that came back was cold.
If you cannot endure this training, you will never master the sense of drawing upon inner force.
And so Dok Go Hyeon found himself going without sleep for the third consecutive night.
By the next day, the dislocated leg was merely an added affliction.
‘This is absurd. What does refusing to sleep and destroying my body have to do with drawing force?’
Even as Dok Go Hyeon harbored resentment, he did not disobey Ling’s orders.
The reason was simple enough.
He sensed that Ling, serious as she was, would not torment him without purpose.
And he did not wish to flee from the training he himself had first requested.
Grind—
More than anything, he despised himself for never even drawing his sword, let alone landing a strike.
‘At this rate, revenge or honor means nothing—I can’t even protect him properly.’
Better to become crippled than to end this way without landing a single blow against Ling.
That ruthless determination was nothing less than Dok Go Hyeon’s natural gift as a martial artist.
‘…But if tonight the other arm or leg becomes dislocated….’
Yet what could he accomplish without both arms and both legs?
The thought summoned a creeping dread in Dok Go Hyeon’s heart.
Moo Heun, seated within the carriage, observed Dok Go Hyeon’s state and posed a question to Ling.
“I have nothing to say regarding the training itself….”
Moo Heun continued in a tone colored by concern.
“Yet with Dok Go in his present condition, I worry whether it might delay our arrival at our destination.”
At this, Ling turned her head to regard Moo Heun.
“There is no need for such concern, young master.”
“Why is that?”
“Once we have crossed the Dae Pa Mountain Range, the path to Cheongseong Mountain becomes level ground. Should we wish to increase our pace, we can do so as much as we desire.”
Moo Heun made a low sound of acknowledgment.
Moo Heun immediately grasped Ling’s intention.
“You believe Dok Go will not endure for much longer.”
“I expect it will end by tomorrow night at the latest, though I do not wish to underestimate Dok Go.”
Ling affirmed Moo Heun’s words and offered her own thoughts.
“You set the arrival at Cheongseong Mountain for a fortnight from now. Only five days remain until then.”
That is so.
But the training began only from the seventh night onward. In truth, what Dok Go wishes to grasp cannot be realized in such a short span of time.
At Ling’s words, Moo Heun nodded quietly in agreement.
Having himself decoded the true essence of the Pa-gi Style, Moo Heun understood keenly how difficult such a thing truly was.
Therefore, in order to compress the timeline, there was no choice but to employ an extreme method.
An extreme method, you say….
Moo Heun did not linger long in thought before continuing.
You are using fear itself.
A glimmer of light crossed Ling’s eyes at Moo Heun’s words.
“Indeed, you are most perceptive. Without sleep, and beneath the terror that both his arms and legs may become useless by today or tomorrow, something resembling a beast’s primal instinct awakens. That is what I am gambling on.”
Ling continued, her voice carrying a note of regret.
“Such methods are employed in normal circumstances, yet never so urgently. When I consider Dok Go’s innate talent, it grieves me that there is so little time.”
Moo Heun nodded once more.
“Yet if that is the case, there would be no reason to bring Dok Go at all, would there? You are meant to escort us to Cheongseong Mountain and fulfill my father’s command.”
Though Moo Heun mentioned Jekal Cheonseong’s command without any prior hint from Ling, she merely nodded as though such a thing no longer surprised her.
“That is correct. Therefore, I wish to escort you personally even after we arrive at Cheongseong Mountain.”
“Would that not make the timeline for fulfilling your father’s command far too tight?”
Ling shook her head slowly.
“The time granted to me by the head of the house is sufficient for both tasks to be accomplished.”
“Surely it cannot be so easy as you make it sound?”
How could Moo Heun not understand?
Even with ample time, completing all arrangements at Cheongseong Mountain and making the journey to Sacheon would require even a martial artist of Ling’s caliber to employ her lightness skill to its fullest.
Yet Ling’s resolve did not waver.
To entrust your safety to Dok Go while his mind is divided by concerns beyond protection would be intolerable for one serving as an escort of the Main House.
Moo Heun observed the resolute determination in the young master’s eyes for a moment, then smiled ruefully, as if conceding defeat.
“If that is your wish, then I shall accept it as well.”
The young master bowed his head in gratitude toward Moo Heun.
Moo Heun acknowledged the gesture lightly and turned his gaze toward Dok Go Hyeon, who was following slowly behind.
‘I wonder what sort of reaction the Dok Go swordmaster will show then….’
In that instant, Moo Heun’s eyes widened slightly as he caught Dok Go Hyeon’s gaze.
“…Huh.”
Moo Heun wore an enigmatic smile before poking his face back into the carriage.
‘I suppose the young master’s words are likely correct most of the time, but when I see eyes like those, I find myself hoping all over again.’
In Dok Go Hyeon’s eyes just now, there was undoubtedly the fear that the young master had intended to instill.
Yet that was not all that dwelt in those eyes.
‘Warriors with eyes like that always manage to accomplish something.’
Despite the terror, there was a gleam of desire to land a blow against the very object of that fear.
Dok Go Hyeon’s gaze, which resembled that of those who had shown him miracles in his previous life, kindled within Moo Heun an unmistakable hope.
‘They too were always pushing their training beyond the brink of survival. It worried me they might die before we ever fought.’
As Moo Heun watched Dok Go Hyeon, he overlaid the faces of countless warriors who had distinguished themselves in the conflicts of his past life.
‘…Now that I think of it. There was someone who trained in that very manner.’
Given the nature of the training method, one figure who had pursued a similar path naturally came to mind.
‘Do Woon—that friend’s counsel might prove useful to the Dok Go swordmaster.’
It would certainly help.
Do Woon was Moo Heun’s close friend, but he was also a peerless master far better known as the First Sword of Huashan.
Moo Heun resolved to relay Do Woon’s words to Dok Go Hyeon and turned to the young master with a question.
“Young Master, would it be appropriate if I offered the Dok Go swordmaster a few words of consolation?”
The young master paused briefly before answering.
“It may be presumptuous, but no matter how learned you are, matters of martial technique will prove difficult to convey. There exists a great wall between knowledge and true embodiment….”
“Of course I understand. I merely wish to pass along a few words of wisdom that I have gathered here and there from masters of the art.”
The young master nodded slowly.
“Please share them freely. After all, the Dok Go swordmaster is a bodyguard whom you yourself selected.”
“Thank you.”
Moo Heun offered his thanks briefly and turned back toward Dok Go Hyeon.
“Dok Go Hyeon! Would you come over here for a moment?”
“…Huh?”
Dok Go Hyeon gazed back at Moo Heun with a half-awake, vacant expression.
“I have something I wish to discuss with you regarding your training.”
At this, Dok Go Hyeon’s face twisted into a peculiar expression.
‘I know he’s clever, but he’s never even studied martial technique before—he’s a complete novice at this.’
After all, the first martial technique he had learned was the Dok Go Gusaek that Dok Go Hyeon himself had taught him, so from the swordmaster’s perspective, such skepticism was entirely reasonable.
“…Fine.”
Yet Dok Go Hyeon approached Moo Heun regardless.
He was already grasping at nothing in his current state; there was no harm in hearing what Moo Heun had to say.
Besides, he had already witnessed Moo Heun’s intellect achieve results twice over.
‘Perhaps that cleverness might prove useful to martial technique as well….’
Harboring only a faint glimmer of hope, Dok Go Hyeon dragged his weary body toward the carriage where Moo Heun sat.
And there, he received a brief account from Moo Heun.
Dok Go Hyeon did not know it, but through Moo Heun’s words, he had caught a glimpse of the enlightenment of the First Sword of Huashan.
“…Huh?”
And Dok Go Hyeon’s reaction was simple enough.
“What are you talking about?”
***
Night had fallen, and training time came once more for the young master and Dok Go Hyeon.
“Are you ready?”
The young master asked Dok Go Hyeon in his usual composed voice.
“…Yeah.”
Dok Go Hyeon faced the young master with vacant, lifeless eyes and a voice barely above a whisper.
Then he nodded and lifted the wooden sword.
‘He hasn’t even the energy left to speak.’
And yet the young master had no intention of relenting.
Unless Dok Go Hyeon overcame this moment, he would never shed his lingering doubts about technique.
“Then, let us begin.”
At the young master’s signal, Dok Go Hyeon’s body moved.
“!!”
Crack—
Just as before, Dok Go Hyeon’s wooden sword was blocked before it could fully draw.
Yet there was something decidedly different this time.
‘…I drew it a little.’
Remarkably, Dok Go Hyeon had grown.
Even with his left side sealed, unable to move properly.
It wasn’t only Ryeong who sensed this; a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps—crossed Dok Go Hyeon’s eyes, which moments before had seemed hollow with defeat.
“…Hh.”
With no strength left for words, Dok Go Hyeon managed a faint smile.
“…Remarkable.”
It was no empty flattery.
To achieve growth under such circumstances—that wasn’t mere stubbornness.
Ryeong had known his innate talent ran deep, but that alone didn’t explain it.
Forfeiting half your body wasn’t a disadvantage overcome by talent alone.
‘…Could it be this young master’s counsel?’
Ryeong, possessed of superhuman abilities, had heard the words spoken this morning.
The meaning had been obscure enough that he’d paid it little mind—but Dok Go Hyeon seemed to have grasped something from it.
‘The young master said it came from a master who visited the Main House.’
Ryeong couldn’t recall any master who spoke that way, but Moo Heun possessed perfect memory.
Thinking of it as words offered to a child’s understanding back then, the pieces fit.
‘Whether it was the young master, drawing on those old memories to aid Dok Go now…’
Or Dok Go Hyeon himself, extracting wisdom from them.
Both were displaying an almost incomprehensible depth of talent.
“But that alone is insufficient.”
Ryeong, however, was no gentle teacher.
He’d never learned through such methods, so he knew no other way to instruct.
“Nine more times. If you cannot land a strike on me or defend against my attacks, you will lose your right shoulder today.”
Lose it, and he’d never grip a sword again.
Dok Go Hyeon’s eyes snapped open as though he hadn’t heard.
Crack—
Dok Go Hyeon’s sword clashed against Ryeong’s once more.
And this time, no miracle repeated itself.
His blade was stopped at the exact same point as before.
“Two.”
Even at that final count, Dok Go Hyeon nodded slowly.
Crack! Clang!
Several more exchanges followed.
But Dok Go Hyeon’s sword showed no further progress.
‘…Perhaps that was the limit.’
Yet it was still a tremendous leap forward.
After witnessing Dok Go Hyeon’s first step, Ryeong engaged with renewed gravity.
To face a martial master on the threshold of enlightenment with anything less would be disrespectful.
So Dok Go Hyeon’s attacks never found their mark.
And then, in an instant, nine strikes had passed.
“…So this is your final attack.”
Dok Go Hyeon gave no response to Ryeong’s words.
He merely moved his lips, murmuring something to himself.
“…What is this?”
“…?”
“Since there really isn’t one, it’s easier.”
Dok Go Hyeon closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, nothing appeared.
Only the words he’d heard this morning—Do Woon’s words relayed by Moo Heun—echoed in his mind.
-Among the masters I know, there is one who trains with his left side bound, just as you do. I mean to share what he once told me.
-What? This brat… There’s another person who trains this way?
-Indeed. I too couldn’t contain my curiosity and asked him why he trained in such a manner.
-Oh! And? …No, wait—could it be a martial art that uses only one side of the body? If so, it might not help much in your current situation.
At Dok Go Hyeon’s skeptical tone, Moo Heun shook his head.
-The principles differ slightly from the Pa-gi Style, so I hadn’t thought to connect them, but it follows the subtle mysteries of the Seolfalpjein in much the same way.
—Really? Are you serious?
—Indeed. I shall convey his words exactly as they were spoken.
Dok Go Hyeon leaned forward eagerly, hanging on Moo Heun’s every word.
—No matter how fine a purse may be, when it’s full, it grows heavy.
—…What?
—So empty the purse, and falling becomes the fastest way forward.
—What kind of nonsense is that?
Moo Heun hesitated at Dok Go Hyeon’s question before speaking.
—I have my own interpretation, but I feared the teaching might lose its edge if I offered one. Wouldn’t it be better for you to work out the meaning yourself, Master?
—…Even so….
He couldn’t grasp it through mere words, but the moment he tried to move his body, understanding came.
‘Empty the purse. Then fall.’
With half-hearted resignation, he released all tension from his frame as though draining a vessel of its contents.
And then, he began to truly fall.
The result was startling.
‘By following the body’s natural flow instead, I found the center of balance I’d been searching for.’
Rather than forcing his limbs to move as they once had when he possessed all four, using only one arm and one leg while releasing every ounce of tension made his movements remarkably more efficient.
Not everyone could find their center of balance standing on a single leg in this condition.
Dok Go Hyeon’s innate talent—and the sharpened senses born from the dread that Ryeong had deliberately cultivated—made it possible.
And this was far from the end.
‘I can release more. I can become lighter still.’
Dok Go Hyeon paused in thought, then released a long breath.
Ryeong, watching, spoke with a note of doubt in her voice.
“If you halt the natural circulation of your internal power through your body, wouldn’t that only make you heavier?”
Dok Go Hyeon shrugged at her question.
“That too seems to be habit. I’m trying to recover the sensation I had before I knew anything of martial arts.”
Every martial master, whenever opportunity arises, circulates their vital energy through the full circuit of the body to advance to the next realm.
Even at rest, the energy rotates through the body at an exceedingly slow pace.
Once one passes the peak, all of this becomes embodied and natural; yet at the first rank, the body has not yet fully accepted this circulation as a “natural movement.”
Dok Go Hyeon had halted even that in order to restore his body to its unrefined state.
“…Will it have any effect?”
“…I don’t know.”
Dok Go Hyeon himself had conceived the method on impulse, so he couldn’t say with certainty how to proceed.
As he moved, it simply felt as though this was how it had to be done.
‘It doesn’t seem likely to work just because I try anyway.’
Though he had grown somewhat stronger, the gap between him and Ryeong was not one he could close.
So Dok Go Hyeon decided to trust his intuition.
‘If it fails… well, that’s that.’
Even if he lost both arms today, he would take up a sword in his teeth and try again.
Following Moo Heun’s words, it felt—inexplicably—as though it might still be possible.
He had witnessed his own life being saved, and another’s life being preserved.
Though Moo Heun understood nothing of martial arts, his words had ultimately proven helpful.
Perhaps it was a kind of madness bordering on faith, born from witnessing this with his own eyes.
It might later prove a grave poison.
‘Then I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’
Dok Go Hyeon resolved not to concern himself with it now and prepared for his final attack.
Ryeong watched his wavering form in silence.
‘How unfortunate.’
Dok Go Hyeon’s eyes were peaceful.
To Ryeong, it looked like resignation.
And she understood.
Without both arms, how could he even grip a sword?
So such thoughts rising in him was only natural.
Yet the truth was otherwise.
Dok Go Hyeon was recalling the final words Moo Heun had conveyed to him.
—The Seolfalpjein is like a flower petal falling upon one’s nose, he said.
—What does that mean? That sounds like pure nonsense to me.
—Ha! I asked the same thing. He said it was a sneeze.
—A sneeze?
—Indeed. When you sneeze, you don’t just go “Achoo!” and leave it at that, do you?
Moo Heun pointed at his own nose.
“When you fall with your body emptied, your nose grows itchy—that’s what he said.”
“…Your nose….”
Dok Go Hyeon nodded briefly, then moved to draw his sword with sudden violence.
Clang!
Ryeong, missing nothing, deflected Dok Go Hyeon’s attack with practiced ease.
Then came Ryeong’s counter—a strike Dok Go Hyeon had never managed to block until now—streaking toward his undefended right shoulder.
“—It itches!”
Crack!
With the sound of something breaking, Dok Go Hyeon’s body tumbled helplessly across the ground.
Yet this was no defeat.
“…Difficult to believe.”
Ryeong looked down at Dok Go Hyeon with an expression of rare astonishment.
“…Heh, heh-heh.”
He had lost his balance and fallen upon impact—but his right shoulder remained untouched.
What had shattered instead was the wooden sword in Ryeong’s hand.
Before the strike could even fully unfold, the blade at its base had cracked.
“I did it!”
Dok Go Hyeon, flooded with triumph, stretched his arms high while lying on his back.
“…Congratulations.”
Ryeong accepted the outcome cleanly.
“With this, the young master of the Main House has proven yourself a worthy protégé. There are matters of caution I should mention….”
Several pieces of advice poured from Ryeong’s lips, but Dok Go Hyeon did not hear them.
“Cough-ack~ Kul… Pururur….”
Three days and nights without sleep—the exhaustion crashed down upon him the moment his vigilance shattered.
…
Ryeong gazed down at Dok Go Hyeon for a moment, then exhaled softly, turning his attention to the broken wooden sword held in his palm.
“Even for a wooden sword, I’ve never had one break like this.”
With that brief note, Ryeong reset Dok Go Hyeon’s dislocated bone and returned to the carriage.
Decades had passed since Dok Go Hyeon’s master, Dok Go Baek, last wielded it.
The Ninth Form of the Dok Go Gusaek—the Pa-gi Style—had awakened from its long slumber on this night beneath the open sky of the Jianghu.

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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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