The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 31

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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 31.
Mu Hyun asked again, keeping his expression carefully neutral.
“The Seven Star Formation—what exactly does that refer to?”
Hyung Sang smiled as though the answer were obvious.
‘Don’t try to deceive me, now.’
His lips curved upward, but his eyes remained utterly devoid of warmth.
‘He lives up to his name—bold enough. Though he never managed it in his previous life, perhaps a mere remnant consciousness might succeed where he could not.’
Hyung Sang lifted a finger, pointing toward the sky.
‘You returned to the past by twisting the Heavenly Qi within the Seven Star Formation designed by the Ancestor, did you not?’
Only then did Mu Hyun slowly nod, assuming a respectful posture.
“I have committed a grave discourtesy toward you.”
Hyung Sang shrugged as though it were of no consequence.
‘Rather, I should praise him. The secret has been guarded within the clan for generations—yet when confronted by words from a stranger, or rather a being that is not even that, he did not panic and carelessly reveal everything. I would have been disappointed otherwise.’
“I am grateful for your magnanimity.”
‘The pleasantries are done. So then, how old are you?’
“Before I returned, I was fifty-eight.”
‘Fifty-eight?’
One of Hyung Sang’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
‘Then when you returned, you became sixteen?’
“No. It has not been long since I returned. When I arrived, I was already eighteen.”
‘Fifty-eight to eighteen… not sixty-four to sixteen…’
Hyung Sang stroked his beard with an enigmatic expression.
‘…A failure then? …No, what I know is merely the draft. I cannot hastily conclude what the final result became.’
The words were cryptic, and they did not sound encouraging.
Hyung Sang continued undeterred.
‘Yes, the fifty-eighth hexagram signifies that the path still stretches ahead, while the eighteenth carries the meaning of thunder. Stability may waver, but it is optimal for creating variables.’
At this, Mu Hyun pressed further.
“How do you know of my Regression? And what do you mean by variables?”
He had to ask.
From the start, Mu Hyun’s plan had not been Regression—it was to twist the Heavenly Qi.
That failed, and the Seven Star Formation had chosen Regression as its second option. How could Hyung Sang possibly know that he had regressed?
And what was this manner of speech, as if all of it had been orchestrated?
‘Hmm…’
Hyung Sang did not answer immediately, instead gazing down at Mu Hyun for a moment.
‘It won’t do.’
“…Pardon?”
‘It’s not something I can explain with mere words. You may have summoned me, but that remains unchanged.’
Hyung Sang shrugged.
“If there is something you require…”
Mu Hyun, mid-question, suddenly fell silent.
Hyung Sang’s face had grotesquely vanished below the nose, leaving only the eyes and brow.
‘…So discerning that truth itself is a form of test.’
Mu Hyun methodically pieced together the situation with perfect composure.
This was what the Remnant Consciousness left within the Formation where Gongcheong Seokyu slept desired.
‘He is not a being one can face merely by passing through ten Formations.’
In his previous life, how Gongcheong Seokyu had been obtained—the account of it.
The next Yong Du Bang Ju had spoken in detail of the process by which Gongcheong Seokyu was acquired, yet had made no mention of the Remnant Consciousness.
Mu Hyun judged there was no reason for him to deliberately conceal it.
That conversation had occurred during wartime already, when Gongcheong Seokyu was on the brink of the collapse of Pungbibaksan.
Whatever had been gained, there was neither cause nor leisure to withhold it.
‘Then, if my thoughts are correct—if I touched the Formation, then it appeared because of me.’
If Mu Hyun’s reasoning were sound, if his Regression were part of some grand design, then this Hyung Sang would be someone waiting for Mu Hyun himself.
‘Then who is the original owner of this Hyung Sang? Who could know of the Ancestor’s Seven Star Formation and share such a plan with him?’
Only by uncovering that truth could he provide the answer Hyung Sang sought.
Mu Hyun recalled how Hyung Sang had regarded him highly as a master of Formation Mastery.
And then his memory extended to that moment when Hyung Sang had heard his name and reacted as though intrigued.
‘…Ah.’
A single piece gleamed within Mu Hyun’s mind.
Around that piece, luminous threads wove themselves into a single, intricate web.
Having reached his conclusion at last, Mu Hyun’s lips curved upward into a smile.
“I would dare beseech the Sage of Hanae for his guidance.”
Mu Hyun’s eyes shone with confidence as he took up the stance of challenge.
“Would you honor me with a game of Go?”
Indeed, as if confirming the right answer, Hyung Sang’s face broke into a smile.
The corners of his mouth curled upward in unmistakable satisfaction.
It was a different smile from that first one, when his eyes had remained cold.
[So the boy saw through me faster than expected.]
“Given your reputation and your connection to the Ancestor, I would say I’m rather late in seeking this audience.”
[The boy has it wrong. I was never one to share wine with your Ancestor. If anything, we were enemies.]
“Yet by the records, I understand you exchanged encrypted letters.”
[We spoke of no personal matters. Only once—only once did we discuss something that had nothing to do with the fate of our respective nations: the future of the Central Plains itself.]
Snap.
Hyung Sang flicked his fingers lightly, and in a heartbeat a Go board materialized between them.
[That story is what I shall tell you. Of course….]
Hyung Sang naturally took the black stones in his hand.
[Should you lose, there will be nothing left to tell.]
Mu Hyun let out a hollow laugh.
“You take the black stones as if it were the most natural thing in the world.”
Ordinarily, when playing Go, a master or elder would take the white stones, but Hyung Sang answered as if it meant nothing.
[Securing the advantageous position is everything.]
Mu Hyun did not object and took the white stones.
“I have no fear. My defenses against invasion are already more than adequate.”
At Mu Hyun’s words, Hyung Sang nodded slightly.
[You speak of your past life, then.]
“Yes, though it ended poorly.”
[Is there any life that is truly ignoble?]
Hyung Sang picked up a black stone without hesitation.
Click.
[Such judgments belong entirely to posterity.]
The first black stone landed not on the flower point, nor the small point, but directly at the heavenly center—the very heart of the board.
It was an unabashed aggression, a move to dominate the entire battlefield from the start.
“Their assessment is not everything. Yet am I not shaped by what others perceive of me, what I myself cannot see?”
It was a move that might have unsettled him, but Mu Hyun remained unmoved, calmly placing a white stone to seize the corner.
[Hmm.]
Hyung Sang showed signs of interest, but his hand held no mercy.
The black stones spread like a formation, thickly encircling the center, cutting off every avenue through which Mu Hyun’s white stones might extend.
[It is a matter worth discussing, but you would do well to set aside such thoughts for now.]
Hyung Sang’s moves were no simple game of Go. They were the Tactics of War itself.
‘…Indeed, it is suffocating.’
Hyung Sang’s Go was brutally, mercilessly solid.
Like a tortoise withdrawing into its shell, and then—the moment Mu Hyun revealed even the smallest opening—like a viper striking out to seize the neck of a large group.
[Impressive, though somewhat insufficient if you wish to hear my story.]
Hyung Sang placed a black stone with something like mockery.
Five white stones on the right side found themselves in atari.
[There is no fault in moving by standard sequence alone. Yet on the battlefield, such adherence is no different from death. Your regression—it was not meant to be a mere repetition of your past life, was it?]
True to Hyung Sang’s words, Mu Hyun’s Go was precise and strictly orthodox.
But his opponent was a strategist who had shaped an era.
Fixed sequences meant nothing to him.
Where Mu Hyun could read ten moves ahead, Hyung Sang pierced through even the psychology of the one reading those moves.
‘…Mere repetition.’
Mu Hyun’s hand froze in midair.
Hyung Sang’s words were cruel, but they were also unavoidable—his current move could only appear that way.
‘So even the eyes of a strategist who shaped history see it as repetition.’
But that was precisely Mu Hyun’s intention.
Mu Hyun’s eyes went cold and sharp.
At the same moment, he began to introduce variables.
He abandoned the right-side stones that should have been saved.
Instead, he drove a white stone deep into the crevice of the lower left, where black’s influence was strongest.
A move indistinguishable from suicide.
Any observer would have called it a blunder.
[…Oh?]
Yet Hyung Sang recognized this was no accident.
It was a declaration of war—to drag the carefully constructed board into a brawl, surrendering his own flesh to seize his opponent’s bone.
Click. Clack.
The pace of the stones accelerated.
When Hyung Sang’s black stones encircled the white, Mu Hyun wriggled through like a loach, fracturing the black’s formation and shaking its very foundation.
Cracks spread through Hyung Sang’s once-perfect Formation.
Calculated sequences unraveled, and unpredictable chaos bloomed across the board.
[Ha, haha! You aimed for this from the very start?]
Hyung Sang didn’t waver—instead, he laughed aloud.
[That’s right! If you bear the Je Gal name, you must play like this!]
Hyung Sang drove down a black stone with crisp force.
It was an assault of tremendous momentum, yet Mu Hyun refused to retreat.
He met the attack head-on, shaking the dominance of the center.
‘Now.’
In the chaos, Mu Hyun had aimed for precisely one move.
A white stone severed the waist of Black’s large group.
Snap—!
A crisp crack rang out, and silence descended.
With that single move, the central territory Hyung Sang had painstakingly built teetered on the brink of collapse.
From the moment of his Regression, this was the shape of the plan Mu Hyun had designed.
To live without incident, to appear no different from before, yet to conceal a hidden blade within.
Mu Hyun had simply translated this onto the Go board.
Hyung Sang set down his hand and stroked his beard.
Black had been winning, certainly—but that single white stone now shrouded the life and death of the entire board in shadow.
Did a path to victory remain?
If asked so directly, one could not deny it.
Yet Hyung Sang had no intention of descending into that hell alongside Mu Hyun.
[…Heh heh.]
Hyung Sang returned the black stone to its pot and smiled.
[It’s been ages since a game like this. You remind me of your Ancestor—no, you’re even messier and more tangled than he was.]
“Well, I suspect the Ancestor was rather more refined than I.”
Mu Hyun too set down his white stone as he replied.
Cold sweat had dampened his spine.
If Hyung Sang had pressed on to the bitter end?
There had been hidden moves, but he couldn’t have guaranteed a perfect victory.
[A battlefield is hell. In hell, filth is closer to necessity than refinement.]
Hyung Sang nodded and continued.
[I’m grateful. You gave me great pleasure.]
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
[And, for one who provided such amusement, a proper reward is in order.]
Snap—
Hyung Sang flicked his fingers once more, and remarkably, vast characters began to inscribe themselves across the air.
[These are the contents of the Encrypted Letters that I once exchanged with your ancestor.]
Hyung Sang swept his hand through the void.
[They were written in cipher, naturally—war time and all. I’ve removed the unnecessary parts.]
“I’m grateful for your consideration.”
Mu Hyun bowed his head in thanks.
Before long, Hyung Sang shaped the completed text into the form of a book small enough to fit in one palm and handed it to Mu Hyun.
[Take it.]
Mu Hyun received it respectfully with both hands.
“Thank you, honored one. I hardly know how to repay such kindness.”
[You’ve passed a fair test—what repayment is there to speak of?]
Then Hyung Sang brought his hands together lightly.
Clap!
The space where Hyung Sang stood, along with the ground beneath Mu Hyun’s feet, began to grow hazy.
“…Are you leaving already?”
[You must have many questions. Forgive me, but I cannot answer them. It’s not that this old one refuses—I’ve simply dwelt within this Formation for far too long.]
Mu Hyun grasped the meaning at once.
A Remnant Consciousness of one who had wandered the realm in the same age as the Ancestor.
Even a rough estimate put thirteen hundred years in the past.
That the Formation had endured this long was itself a kind of miracle.
“Then, will you be disappearing, sir?”
[Yes, and it brings me little sorrow. After all, I am merely an imprint carved into a fragment of the Formation. If anything, it was a gift—to play a game of Go against someone of your caliber.]
Mu Hyun wanted to ask so much more, but recognizing that he could not hold back the Remnant Consciousness from fading, he offered a deep bow.
[Hah, a bow to a Remnant Consciousness? How amusing that must look.]
“How could I dismiss as mere consciousness one who has endured thirteen centuries and three hundred years more? And having received such profound wisdom from you—showing respect is only proper.”
[Is that so….]
Hyung Sang regarded Mu Hyun with an inscrutable expression.
[Then let me impart one final word of caution before I depart.]
“I am listening.”
[Everything has a price. You know this, I imagine, but Nature clings to that truth far more stubbornly than you might suppose.]
Hyung Sang gazed into empty space, stroking his beard.
[So when Nature comes to collect its due, do not struggle against it. Remember—some things cannot be stopped.]
“I will remember this teaching.”
[Very well, then….]
Hyung Sang smiled and waved his hand, and within moments he vanished entirely.
Mu Hyun stared at the place where Hyung Sang had disappeared, then surveyed his surroundings.
The pitch-black expanse that had pressed in from all sides now appeared as nothing more than ordinary stone—the interior of a cave, as if it had always been so.
And nearby lay Dok Go Hyun, sprawled motionless on the ground.
Mu Hyun approached and examined his condition.
“Nngh… hhhh….”
Fortunately, he appeared to be sleeping, with no sign of serious wounds or internal injury.
Smiling to himself, Mu Hyun withdrew from his robe the book that Hyung Sang had given him.
‘I would read it now if I could.’
But it seemed best to wait a moment.
‘This is hopeless—I cannot focus on the words at all.’
A dense golden mist hung so thick it nearly obscured his vision.
Coupled with a scent so intoxicating, so maddening in its sweetness, that the slightest lapse of concentration threatened to overwhelm him.
It was impossible to concentrate on the text; the headache alone was substantial.
Yet it was not unpleasant.
Mu Hyun lifted his gaze to the passage before him.
Three paths branched away, but Mu Hyun could discern with absolute clarity which way he needed to go.
‘Straight through the center, then.’
The purpose of his journey to this place.
The legendary elixir that could resurrect the dead.
The Gongcheong Seokyu was releasing that aroma with such overwhelming intensity that he could pinpoint its location with certainty.

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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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