The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 50

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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 50.
In the end, Mu Hun succeeded in bringing Jin Yu into Cheon-eung-dan.
Of course, the process had not been straightforward.
“Opposing the Imperial Palace? No matter how cautious we are, isn’t this essentially treason?”
While he could deceive the others by calling it cooperation, he could not hide everything from Jin Yu, who would be entrusted with Cheon-eung-dan’s information network.
Accordingly, Mu Hun made it clear that their true opponent would be the Black Death Squad, an organization of the Imperial Palace, and upon hearing this, Jin Yu refused to join Cheon-eung-dan.
“Jeegal Cheon-seong. I am deeply grateful for such an offer despite my earlier rudeness. However, from what I have learned of the matter, I fear the position exceeds my qualifications. My apologies.”
Mu Hun stated that as long as they had not secured definitive evidence, they would pursue and eliminate the Black Death Squad under the pretext of cooperation, so there would be no problem; yet the danger did not simply vanish with those words.
What Jin Yu possessed—the survival instinct of a Gaebang member—had sounded the alarm.
“I see. Then, regrettably, I shall need to inquire with another Gaebang associate about detailed information regarding the Elixirs the Black Death Squad possesses.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
Yet Mu Hun understood the ways of Gaebang no less keenly than any Gaebang member himself.
“The Black Death Squad comprises four second-rate martial artists as one unit. But where would second-rate martial artists simply appear from? They must have hidden Elixirs capable of rapidly cultivating them throughout the Central Plains. Such information I confirmed during our last encounter with the Black Death Squad.”
“…I see. Elixirs for cultivating second-rate martial artists….”
“However, those among them who rise to leadership positions possess martial prowess beyond the Peak Realm. Of course, it may not be an achievement reached solely through Elixirs… but one cannot deny their role was indispensable.”
“….”
“An Elixir that aids in reaching the Peak Realm… seeing how I attained the Peak Realm with Gongcheong-seok Oil, it must surely be an extraordinary Elixir. Though whether it compares to mine, I cannot say….”
“Jeegal Cheon-seong.”
“Yes? What is it?”
Gaebang, as an Orthodox Faction, certainly possessed some enthusiasm for cooperation, yet given that its foundation rested upon information, there existed a tendency to value information more highly.
Among such information, there were hierarchies. Ordinarily, ranks were determined by the difficulty of acquisition and rarity of the intelligence.
The more such information one brought back, the higher one’s standing within Gaebang rose, and if tangible goods like Elixirs or treasures were acquired alongside the intelligence, the reward became all the greater.
Jin Yu was, more than anyone, a true Gaebang member.
His greatest reason for obsessing over Gongcheong-seok Oil had been to elevate his own value within Gaebang.
“I am grateful for such an excessive offer. I shall do my utmost not to disappoint you.”
“Did you not just say you apologize a moment ago?”
“Did I? Goodness, I must have fumbled my words in my nervousness. I meant to express my gratitude but somehow my mind went astray….”
“Hehe. So it was. I am truly relieved by your ready acceptance.”
“Thank you for saying so. Please call upon me whenever I am needed. Ha, ha, ha!”
Thus, Jin Yu became the keeper of Cheon-eung-dan’s information network.
Yang Mu-jin chuckled softly, recalling the absurd spectacle of that encounter even now.
Mu Hun, standing beside him, posed a question.
“You seem to have recalled something pleasant.”
Yang Mu-jin raised his shoulders lightly with a shrug.
“The more I think about it, the stranger it seems that such a remarkable man would choose me as commander.”
“Hehe. I appreciate the kindness, but….”
Mu Hun smiled with a hint of regret.
“Even if you praise me, there is little chance of winning my father’s approval.”
“I am well aware. It was merely honest sentiment.”
Yang Mu-jin slowly turned his gaze toward the massive gate standing before them.
Above the grand gateway, which bore the unmistakable marks of countless years, elegant calligraphy of such refinement that any scholar under heaven could not help but marvel was etched, proclaiming the nature of this place.
Zixiao Hall.
The principal temple of the Wudang Sect, where azure tiles and crimson pillars harmonized—Zixiao Hall.
Yang Mu-jin had come here with Mu Hun to pay his respects to Jeegal Cheon-seong and Yun Hak-jin.
Mu Hun regarded Yang Mu-jin and nodded slowly.
“Certainly, this garment suits you far better than the Martial Robe you usually wear.”
Yang Mu-jin let out a quiet laugh.
He was dressed in a crimson Martial Robe symbolizing the Yang Clan, prepared for this very occasion.
His hair, which had previously been somewhat free and unbound, was now arranged neatly.
Thus attired, even the eyes that ordinarily seemed to regard all matters with weariness now reflected a serene gaze that gazed upon the world with unhurried ease.
“They say blood cannot lie, after all.”
This Martial Robe had once belonged to Yang Mu-jin’s father, now deceased.
Even when fleeing from the Black Death Squad amid chaos, he had thought to bring it with him.
No matter where in the world he went, this Martial Robe could prove his identity.
Indeed, it was thanks to this that he had been able to demonstrate to other families that he was truly of Yang Clan descent.
Of course, after those very families burned to ash, he had resigned himself to abandoning it, certain he would never retrieve it again; yet meeting Mu Hun had led him to unfold it once more.
Though the garment stirred memories he wished to forget, bringing no small measure of unease, it also kindled within him the joy of childhood recollections.
From within those memories, Yang Mu-jin recalled words his father had once spoken when the wine had lifted his spirits.
“Though we have fallen from our former glory, our lineage is that of generals. Strangely, the men of our family find themselves leading others at least once in their lives. You too, Mu-jin, shall one day experience such a thing.”
Yang Mu-jin himself had thought at the time that his father spoke merely of children.
Yet now, having received a proposal to become the leader of Cheon-eung-dan and wishing to accept it, he was bringing the Yang Clan’s name back into the Martial World once more.
Yang Mu-jin felt a certain sense of destiny in this series of events.
‘If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t have. Since I’ve already decided to go through with it….’
One way or another, he would achieve his clan’s vengeance and restore the Yang Clan’s presence to the world.
With his mind settled on this resolve, he felt a strange peace wash over him.
Mu Hun, who had been quietly observing this, smiled and spoke to Yang Mu-jin.
“Are you prepared?”
“I am.”
Yang Mu-jin nodded, and Mu Hun returned the gesture with his own nod.
“Then, shall we proceed?”
As Mu Hun pushed open the doors of Zixiao Hall, the interior—layered with centuries of time—revealed itself to their sight.
Before the weight of ages, the harmonious blend of red and crimson, humble yet impossible to conceal, filled the two men’s vision completely.
From within, Jeegal Cheon-seong and Yun Hak-jin faced them with composed expressions.
Yun Hak-jin stroked his beard with a benevolent smile.
“Ah, so a worthy ally has come to visit our Wudang.”
Jeegal Cheon-seong regarded Yang Mu-jin with a somewhat grave expression and asked him directly.
“Are you the leader of Cheon-eung-dan that Mu Hun spoke of?”
Before the heads of two immense powers whom no one in the Martial World—certainly no one from Hubei—could help but know, Yang Mu-jin raised his hands in the Fist Salute with a composed demeanor.
“A descendant of the Yang Clan, heirs of the Military Gate, and leader of Cheon-eung-dan—Yang Mu-jin. I bow respectfully before the great seniors of the Martial World.”
***
“Truly well done. I confess I did not realize the leader was so refined in his courtesies.”
At Mu Hun’s praise, Yang Mu-jin glanced sideways at him.
“That’s precisely why it stands out. When a man of ill repute performs a single good deed, doesn’t he receive greater praise than most?”
“One must first possess the heart to perform virtue before one can accomplish it, and moreover, one cannot excel at something one has never attempted. The leader has demonstrated propriety without a single fault—truly admirable.”
Yang Mu-jin smiled gently and nodded in acknowledgment.
As a result, Yang Mu-jin was not only recognized by these two giants as the leader of Cheon-eung-dan, but had satisfied them beyond their expectations.
It was thanks to the rigid training he received as a young scion of a military household, executing the Junior’s Propriety flawlessly in every gesture and word.
Combined with the interpersonal skills he had cultivated through his years as a government official, there was scarcely anyone in the realm who would not praise Yang Mu-jin’s character and bearing.
“I’m grateful. When you speak so kindly, my fatigue eases considerably.”
Of course, after so long away from such social engagements, exhaustion was inevitable no matter how much he tried to hide it.
Yang Mu-jin did his best to conceal this weariness and surveyed his surroundings.
By now it was midday, and even within Wudang Sect, nestled high in the mountains, the fierce heat of the earth began to rise.
Yet the heat now filling Zixiao Hall was not merely the work of the weather.
Countless Wudang priests stood in attendance on both sides of the hall, waiting to receive the distinguished guests who would soon arrive.
At the innermost center sat Yun Hak-jin and Jeegal Cheon-seong, with the elders of Wudang beside Yun Hak-jin, and Mu Young and the elders of the Jeegal Clan beside Jeegal Cheon-seong.
Mu Hun, as a son of the Jeegal Clan, could have claimed that seat, but instead he stood beside Yang Mu-jin near the entrance to explain the identities of those who would soon arrive.
Yang Mu-jin was grateful for Mu Hun’s consideration.
This was his first time actually attending the Yongbong Assembly, and he needed to understand who among these visitors would become his allies in Cheon-eung-dan.
Yang Mu-jin glanced toward the entrance and asked Mu Hun.
“Will they arrive soon?”
To Yang Mu-jin’s question about the guests’ arrival, Mu Hun nodded.
“Yes. By now, they should be arriving shortly.”
“I see. I’ve heard there’s something like a pride contest within the Orthodox Faction about who arrives first—will I get to witness that today?”
At Yang Mu-jin’s somewhat blunt question, Mu Hun chuckled softly.
“Such a shameful custom disappeared after the current head of the Namgoong Clan became Alliance Leader.”
Before Namgoong Cheon became Martial World Alliance Leader, the Yongbong Assembly had harbored what amounted to pride contests.
By arriving late to the assembly, the great clans would boast that their fame was so renowned they could afford to be tardy even to such an occasion.
It was far too petty for those who claimed to walk the righteous path.
“Immediately after becoming Alliance Leader, the current leader questioned whether arriving late was truly something to be proud of, and so he has always been the first to attend the Yongbong Assembly ever since.”
“Ah… I see. That’s a method I admire. A man of true excellence.”
“Indeed it is. Surely this time as well he will be the first to—”
Before Mu Hun could finish speaking, the priest guarding the entrance of Zixiao Hall called out in a loud voice.
“The Martial World Alliance Leader and the members of the Namgoong Clan have arrived!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
With the sound of great drums, the enormous doors of Zixiao Hall began to open.
“…They’ve come. As expected.”
Through those doors, the current Martial World Alliance Leader, Namgoong Cheon, and his clan members entered with measured grace.
He could have ridden in by carriage, but he chose not to.
It was his way of showing respect to Wudang—not as the mighty figure of the Martial World Alliance Leader, but as a single martial artist honoring the sacred place.
As if answering Namgoong Cheon’s courtesy, all the Wudang priests raised their hands in the Fist Salute toward him as he walked in.
Namgoong Cheon returned the salute with a fist, then approached Yun Hak-jin with measured, confident steps.
The members of the Namgoong Clan following behind him did the same.
And among them, one man stood out unmistakably.
Namgoong Seo-ryong, the Namgoong Clan’s second house master, passed before Mu Hun and glanced at him with a subtle smile.
-I knew you’d manage it.
Though the Mental Transmission was brief, Mu Hun understood perfectly and smiled back.
Seo-ryong had discerned that Mu Hun had overcome the Absolute Pulse Syndrome and ascended to the Peak Realm with just that passing glance.
-We have much to discuss, but now hardly seems the moment. Let’s talk later.
-By all means. I’m quite curious what you’ll have to say.
As the two exchanged their brief Mental Transmission, Namgoong Cheon arrived before Yun Hak-jin and offered another Fist Salute.
“I am Namgoong Cheon, house master of the Namgoong Clan, meeting the great senior of the Martial World and the True Immortal of Wudang.”
Yun Hak-jin and the elders of Wudang rose from their seats and returned the salute.
“Heh heh… the Alliance Leader honors us so, yet I have little worthy to offer in return. Let us dispense with such excessive ceremony.”
“As a figure of the Martial World, how could I do otherwise? And you have so graciously elevated the very name of the Yongbong Assembly itself. I must humbly beseech you to accept this junior’s propriety with good grace.”
“Heh heh heh…”
Yun Hak-jin stroked his beard with evident pleasure.
To receive a salute from one of the Martial World’s Alliance Leaders was gratifying even for a Wudang True Immortal of such renown, and Yun Hak-jin was not a man to hide his satisfaction.
“Your words give this old man the assurance that his life has not been lived in vain.”
“I am grateful for your graciousness.”
Namgoong Cheon then turned his head and offered a Fist Salute to Jeegal Cheon-seong as well.
Jeegal Cheon-seong, already standing, and his elders returned the salute.
“Strategist, have you been well these days? Your efforts preparing the Yongbong Assembly alongside Wudang must have been considerable.”
“How could we not stand forth when Wudang leads? And have you yourself remained untroubled, Alliance Leader?”
“Thanks to your concern, I am in good health.”
“A blessing indeed. The same holds true for myself.”
The salutations between the two house masters were solemn and impeccably formal.
One could scarcely have imagined such courtesy at their last meeting, yet in truth, they exchanged greetings in this manner more often than not.
Given their respective titles as Alliance Leader and Chief Strategist, such formality was only natural.
Yang Mu-jin, maintaining his salute stance, posed a question through Mental Transmission.
-Is that handsome young swordsman we just saw looking at the commander the one named Seo-ryong you mentioned?
Mu Hun gave a light nod.
-Indeed, sir. What do you make of him?
-…What do I make of him? He’s handsome, and… the title of Namgoong Clan’s second house master seems hardly wasted on him.
-Surely you know that isn’t what this is about?
At this, Yang Mu-jin flinched slightly.
-…No, I’m not following.
-Yet you spoke of it with such enthusiasm, sir. How can you say that now?
Mu Hun reminded Yang Mu-jin of their wager once more.
Yang Mu-jin had been certain there was no one with a stronger Posterior Period Index than himself.
In response, Mu Hun had asserted that Seo-ryong would surpass him, taking the opposite position.
And so the two had wagered on the outcome—with nothing less than one Gold Yuan Treasure at stake.
-Now that you’ve seen him with your own eyes, what do you think?
“….”
Yang Mu-jin closed his eyes for a moment, remained silent, then exhaled quietly.
Given their circumstances, it was a barely perceptible sigh.
His heart wanted to cry out, but the setting forbade it.
After a long pause, Yang Mu-jin sent back the best answer he could muster through Mental Transmission.
-We won’t know until we cross blades directly, will we?
At this excuse-like reply, Mu Hun studied him briefly before letting out a quiet laugh.
-Perhaps. We could certainly postpone settling the wager until then…
Mu Hun gazed at Seo-ryong’s retreating figure and played out a match between them in his mind.
-Though I’m not sure it would change anything.
Yet no matter how hard he thought, he could not envision a path to victory.
Seo-ryong had already reached the Peak Realm Extreme.

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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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