The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 51

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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 51.
Yang Mujin gave serious thought to what would happen if Mu Heun and Namkoong Seo Ryong were to spar.
More precisely, he was calculating the odds that he would not lose the Gold Yuan Treasure.
He had never directly witnessed the martial arts of the Namkoong Clan, but their techniques were legendary, befitting their renown as the Greatest Sword Family in All Under Heaven.
Since he had once seen the Spear Heaven that Mu Heun created based on their methods, it did not take long to reach a conclusion.
‘The Vice Commander’s chances of winning… one in ten. No, more like three in ten.’
Even this result assumed circumstances as favorable to Mu Heun as possible.
Yang Mujin regarded Namkoong Seo Ryong with an expression of disbelief.
Those who had just reached the Peak Stage were called the threshold.
Those who could truly be called at the Peak were called the middle.
Those approaching the Ultimate Peak were called the apex.
In other words, Namkoong Seo Ryong was a martial artist who stood closer to Ultimate Peak than to Peak Stage.
At merely twenty-one years of age.
‘I’ve been called a genius countless times myself…’
Yet Namkoong Seo Ryong’s realm was far higher than his own at the same age.
Yang Mujin gazed between Namkoong Seo Ryong and Mu Heun in turn, swallowing his admiration.
‘These monsters are born in the same era.’
By realm alone, Mu Heun was still only at the threshold of the Peak Stage, but the Myriad Star Heaven Slashing Sword that he had created himself blended countless subtleties, making advancement difficult—yet capable of exploiting the weaknesses of any martial art, allowing him to claim victory against most techniques of equal realm.
And with a Heart Technique approaching the Celestial Martial Physique, his growth, though slow, would match that of other martial artists.
The very fact that a realm gap of this magnitude could leave a three-in-ten chance of victory was extraordinary.
‘If only there had been a little more time…’
Mu Heun’s talent followed a different path altogether.
Though Yang Mujin had not seen Namkoong Seo Ryong fight directly, were Mu Heun given just one opportunity for insight, his winning chances would soar dramatically.
But the match was set for two days hence. Far too short a span to gain such enlightenment.
‘Still… I haven’t lost yet.’
Even as Yang Mujin sighed at his coming defeat in the wager, he clung to that thread of hope—the three-in-ten possibility.
“What troubles your mind so?” Mu Heun asked, regarding Yang Mujin with curiosity after he’d been lost in thought for some time.
Unable to bring himself to say that he feared he would lose, Yang Mujin offered a different answer instead.
“I’m simply struck by wonder that a man like Namkoong Seo Ryong should be born in the same age as you, Vice Commander.”
At Yang Mujin’s words, Mu Heun smiled softly.
“Namkoong Seo Ryong is indeed formidable.”
“Yes. This generation is proving to be an extraordinary harvest with just the two of you.”
“But formidable is not Namkoong Seo Ryong alone.”
Mu Heun’s remark made Yang Mujin’s face show confusion.
To this, Mu Heun answered with a light tone.
“It embarrasses me to say it myself, but connoisseurs call our generation the Golden Age.”
In his past life, it was the name that had come to be attached to martial artists of Mu Heun’s generation following the Dragon Phoenix Gathering.
Of course, at that time, Mu Heun—unable to learn martial arts—had not been included, though he was later incorporated after rising to prominence as the chief strategist of the Martial Alliance.
In this life, since the Dragon Phoenix Gathering had not yet begun, the name had not yet been given.
‘It will certainly come to pass.’
And it would resonate far more powerfully than it had before.
Unaware of these circumstances, Yang Mujin did not immediately grasp Mu Heun’s meaning, yet it did not take him long to accept it.
For following the Namkoong Family, disciples from the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families—all renowned as pillars of the Orthodox Faction—came flooding to Zixiao Hall like mushrooms after rain.
The later-generation prodigies who would represent them in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering were precisely the sort who merited the name Golden Age.
Each time Yang Mujin spotted a particularly striking talent among them, he posed questions to Mu Heun.
Though Mu Heun had already identified certain candidates for the Cheon응 Group, Yang Mujin believed he too, as Commander, ought to participate in selecting members.
“…That Taoist also appears to be participating in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering. Do you know who he is?”
“A visitor from very far away. He is Qing Hui, first disciple of the Kunlun Sect. He is a first-class martial artist who wields the Kunlun’s renowned Swift Divine Technique and Transforming Sword.”
First disciple meant a disciple in the same generation as the sect leader.
Qing Hui was the strongest and most exceptional among them—thus Kunlun was signaling their full commitment to this Dragon Phoenix Gathering.
“Transforming Sword and Swift Divine Technique. Quite useful tools indeed.”
“I would also recommend him as a candidate. However, given the distance between our organization and Kunlun, communication may prove difficult—I believe we should occasionally seek their assistance rather than demand it.”
“I see.”
Understanding Mu Heun’s intent, he answered all of Yang Mujin’s questions with sincerity.
If a candidate differed from Mu Heun’s own thinking, he also provided his reasons.
It was a simple matter for Mu Heun, who knew not a single participant in this Dragon Phoenix Gathering that he could not account for.
Moreover, Yang Mujin’s own eye for talent was keen, so the two found little difficulty in aligning their opinions.
“The Zhongnan Sect… though it is odd to say so, they seem somewhat lacking when standing beside Mount Wudang.”
“There are aspects that remain unrefined. Were they to overcome their impatience, they could become something great, but…”

“Given who we’re up against, it’ll be difficult even for those Daoists.”
After delivering a few harsh critiques, Yang Mujin simply refrained from assessing martial artists he deemed insufficient.
Yet despite this, there were quite a few who met his exacting standards.
The two men sifted through candidates worth approaching and those who weren’t, mentally cataloging the members of the Cheon응 Group as they went.
Of course, there was no guarantee every proposal would be accepted—it might look ridiculous to onlookers.
‘Martial artists of the same age can hardly refuse the Deputy Commander’s proposal.’
Having already witnessed Mu Heun recruit Jin Yu, Yang Mujin held absolute confidence in his persuasive talents.
“Oh….”
Just then, one martial artist caught Yang Mujin’s attention.
A Daoist with a vacant expression, grinning foolishly—his face still carrying youth, better described as cute than handsome.
“How old is that Daoist? He doesn’t look old enough to have reached adulthood yet. Around your age?”
Mu Heun nodded with a gentle expression.
The Daoist Yang Mujin had singled out was someone Mu Heun knew well.
“He is the First Disciple of Huashan Sect and known as the Plum Blossom Swordsman—Do Wun. He’s nineteen, one year older than I.”
“Yet already at the threshold of Peak Stage.”
Even reaching First-Class at that age would warrant the title of genius. Confronted with yet another absurd talent, Yang Mujin let out a hollow laugh.
His reaction was not his alone.
All the families and sects gathered at Zixiao Hall, particularly the Daoist factions, regarded Do Wun with expressions of utter disbelief.
Though Do Wun himself seemed unbothered, grinning foolishly as before.
“He’s got audacity too.”
Yang Mujin assessed him thus, but Mu Heun, who knew Do Wun well, thought differently.
‘Something’s on his mind. Did he spot some strange insect he’d never seen before at Mount Wudang?’
Judging by the expression of the Daoist standing beside Do Wun, whose martial heart was wavering, Mu Heun’s suspicion was likely correct.
Though no one save Do Wun’s senior brothers from Huashan and Mu Heun himself would have grasped this truth.
Yang Mujin continued his admiration of Do Wun.
“I’ve never seen internal power so utterly pure. Truly worthy of Huashan’s Plum Blossom Swordsman. No wonder his reputation stands so high.”
“Indeed. Do Wun is quite literally Huashan’s masterwork.”
Mu Heun wholeheartedly agreed.
Though his temperament was peculiar, it was precisely because of that peculiarity that Do Wun had ascended to become Huashan’s premier swordsman.
-I know in my head that a little impurity mixed into one’s inner strength is fine, but my tongue just won’t accept it.
-Your tongue…?
-Yes. When I take in energy like that, something feels… off. Do you know what I mean?
-Haha, how would I know? I’d be thrilled to build up even impure inner strength.
-No, no. What matters is feeling, Mu Heun. Feeling. Unless it resonates with me just right, I simply cannot do it.
The Do Wun of old had spoken thus, laughing like a child.
Yes, no matter how many years passed, he retained the innocence of a child.
Yet when war came, he unhesitatingly drew his Huashan blade for the sake of the Martial World.
‘Did your heart resonate with that choice?’
Surely it had not.
But because he believed it to be right, he had walked that path without faltering.
With such an otherworldly bearing, the people of Shaanxi called him not Namkoong Seo Ryong but the Greatest Swordsman Under Heaven—the Immortal Plum Blossom Swordsman.
As Mu Heun recalled these memories,
“Huh, that large fellow… Is he from the Peng Family?”
Yang Mujin’s murmur pulled Mu Heun from his reverie.
Lifting his gaze, he saw that Huashan’s turn had ended and others were now paying respects to Yun Xuezhen.
The man Yang Mujin had pointed out was a large figure whose short hair, barely reaching the nape of his neck, was particularly striking.
A handsome face reminiscent of a tiger, and massive musculature visible even beneath his martial robes.
His height, just shy of seven chi—nearly two meters, surpassing even Mu Heun—and the enormous saber at his waist clearly announced his origin.
“Yes, he is Peng Tianhu, Junior Family Head of the Hebei Peng Family.”
“Family Head? He looks young but seems quite renowned.”
“Peng Tianhu is slightly senior to me, and four years ago he faced my brother Mu Young in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering finals, emerging victorious by the narrowest margin and earning the epithet ‘New Dragon.'”
There was no way to describe that match save by those words—a single thread’s difference.
Such had been the ferocity of that competition that even now, the two junior heads regarded each other as worthy rivals.
One could tell simply by watching Peng Tianhu, who had just finished paying respects to Yun Xuezhen, exchange a smile with Mu Young.
They were likely sharing a silent exchange, gauging each other’s strength and finding satisfaction in the measure.
Much as Mu Heun and Namkoong Seo Ryong had done.
Witnessing this, Yang Mujin nodded.
“A single thread’s difference. I see. Indeed, even now one cannot say with certainty who would prevail. Your brother is impressive too?”
“Haha. No tiger father produces a cowardly son. He is my proud brother, sharing the same blood.”
“Quite right—the Family Head of the Jegal Clan is no ordinary master either.”
Yang Mujin’s flawless courtesy was not merely the result of his own concentration, but also sharpened by the tension of standing before two absolute masters like Yun Xuezhen and Jegal Cheonseong.
Yang Mujin nodded slightly, as if beginning to understand the strength of the two brothers.
“But why is his hair like that? From the way it’s cut, it looks like he maintains it at that length deliberately.”
Mu Heun answered without hesitation to Yang Mujin’s question.
“After the Dragon Phoenix Gathering, the great hero Peng Tianhu continued his chivalrous deeds. One day, he heard that water bandits from the Yangtze River Water Bandit Lair were kidnapping commoners, so he stormed the place alone. While rescuing the people and burning all the boats, his hair caught fire. After that, he earned the epithet ‘Fire-Haired Tiger Hero,’ and he apparently took such a liking to it that he’s maintained short hair ever since.”
At Mu Heun’s explanation, Yang Mujin let out a hollow laugh.
“Ah. So that rumored fierce tiger was this man? I had no idea he was so young—he’s got quite the bold spirit.”
Peng Tianhu’s tale was so famous that even Yang Mujin, who worked as a subordinate official in Geumsaru, had heard of it.
“There’s always a reason behind achieving such renown at the age of twenty-five.”
“Then wouldn’t this man be better suited to the Cheon응 Group than anyone else?”
At Yang Mujin’s words, Mu Heun fell silent for a moment.
Simply put, whether in martial prowess or force of character, individuals like Peng Tianhu and Mu Young were among those most suited to the Cheon응 Group.
However, there were practical obstacles to recruiting them.
“Both the great hero Peng and my brother were part of the generation that participated in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering four years ago. Since we’ve set the Cheon응 Group’s external objective as fostering fellowship among the new generation while building chivalrous ties, it would be difficult to recruit those two this time.”
Of course, if the Cheon응 Group were to find decisive evidence of the Imperial Palace’s threat, things would be entirely different—but the time was not yet ripe.
Yang Mujin nodded as if satisfied with the explanation.
“A shame. If such masters were added, the work would be far easier.”
“Your point is well taken, but as you’ve seen from those who’ve arrived, our generation has plenty of formidable martial artists as well.”
Yang Mujin did not disagree.
It was certain that there were young masters worthy of the epithet “Golden Age.”
For the commander of the Cheon응 Group, it was a matter of joy—yet at the same time, it felt as though the Martial World itself had taken on consciousness and was preparing for future perils.
‘It means that no matter how strong one becomes, the Imperial Palace as an opponent still feels insufficient.’
Yang Mujin felt a slight tension at this thought.
It was not fear, but rather a pleasant tremor in anticipation of what was to come.
Meanwhile, Mu Heun, standing beside him, harbored entirely different thoughts.
‘The Hebei Peng Family….’
Seeing the members of the Hebei Peng Family, Mu Heun felt a pang of longing.
It was not that Mu Heun was particularly closer to the Hebei Peng Family than to other great families.
But too much time had passed since he last saw them.
‘These are faces I haven’t seen in forty years.’
In his past life, the Hebei Peng Family was forty years ago.
In this life, they would be wiped out entirely within a few months.
Officially, it was said that they had clashed with those plotting treason against the imperial house and suffered mutual destruction—and Mu Heun believed this as well.
After all, it would have been difficult for a single family to stand alone against a faction powerful enough to rebel against the throne.
However, when war with the Imperial Palace broke out, Mu Heun and the entire Martial World learned that the Peng Family’s destruction was the work of the Imperial Palace itself.
The reason was their location in Hebei, more precisely in Beijing, the capital of the Ming Dynasty.
That information had been tightly controlled, and at the time, none had imagined that the Martial Sanctuary Inviolable could be breached, so the truth had eluded them for far too long.
The Imperial Palace’s invasion had actually begun then—or far earlier still.
‘Had Father been alive, perhaps he might have reached such a conclusion….’
By cruel fate, it was precisely when Jegal Cheonseong, then the Grand Strategist of the Martial Alliance, visited the Peng Family that such a calamity befell them. Jegal Cheonseong perished there, unable to escape.
This, too, must have been the Imperial Palace’s machination.
At the memory of his helplessness in those days, Mu Heun’s eyes grew cold with rare intensity.
‘This time is different.’
For genuine change was now unfolding, not mere words.
Beyond his own ascension to the Master Stage, he was gathering the Cheon응 Group in advance.
Mu Heun nodded slowly and returned his attention to the matter at hand.
The statements from the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families continued for some time longer, and Yang Mujin and Mu Heun had nearly completed their plans for recruiting to the Cheon응 Group.
“That’s about everyone now, isn’t it? It seems almost everyone has arrived.”
At Yang Mujin’s words, Mu Heun nodded.
“Yes. It appears the Beggar Clan will not be sending anyone besides Jin Yu, so among the Nine Great Sects, only one person from my initial thoughts remains.”
“Are there still people to recruit from outside the Nine Great Sects? Well, there are reclusive masters, but it seems unlikely there are others in your generation, Vice Commander.”
Mu Heun smiled faintly as he recalled those outside the Nine Great Sects.
“There are a couple. Both would surpass the Commander’s expectations. One of them is a benefactor who gave me tremendous help in recovering my health.”
“Ah, you mean the successor to that solitary sword master training at the Sichuan Tang Family? That sounds promising. You said they use martial arts without drawing on inner strength, correct?”
“Yes. Rather than the martial arts of the present age, it bears the mysteries of techniques from the era before martial arts were codified—an absolute martial technique of remarkable ingenuity. As they’re not a member of the Sichuan Tang Family, they won’t be able to enter Zixiao Hall today, but they will certainly pass through the preliminaries with ease and advance.”
“Now that’s something to look forward to. Speaking of which, why hasn’t the Sichuan Tang Family arrived yet….”
The moment Yang Mujin’s words ended, a drum sounded once more from the entrance of Zixiao Hall.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
“The honored guests from the Sichuan Tang Family have arrived!”
“…Just talk about the tiger and it appears.”
Then the doors of Zixiao Hall swung open, and martial artists from the Sichuan Tang Family—adorned in deep green and purple—walked in with measured precision.
As one of the Orthodox Faction’s great clans, the Sichuan Tang Family was distinctly known for their mastery of Hidden Weapon Technique and poison, and the atmosphere they carried was markedly different from the other martial artists who had arrived before.
Yet the attention of all the great sect masters gathered here was fixed on an entirely different matter.
“Oh~ Brother. Why are you pulling away like that~ Come closer to me~!”
“No… Chaobin… Miss. I’m seriously going to get killed by your father….”
Standing beside Tang Xiaomo, the Sichuan Tang Family head known as the Laughing Ghost Poison King, was his only daughter, Tang Chaobin, who refused to let go of some man’s arm, gripping it firmly.
For the unmarried daughter of a prestigious clan to display her betrothed so openly at such a gathering was an act that could potentially tarnish her family’s honor in countless ways.
Yet Tang Xiaomo himself, rather than concern himself with such matters of reputation, was glaring at the man’s face with a look murderous enough to kill—a sight that left no one in the heavens and earth unshaken by the intensity of his gaze.
Among all present, Mu Heun was without question the most taken aback.
The man whose arm Tang Chaobin was clinging to was Dok Go Hyeon—a close friend with whom he had discovered the Empty Blue Stone Oil, and one of the catalysts for the early formation of the Cheon응 Group.
“…Dok Go… the Minor Hero?”
Dok Go Hyeon, whose shock was plainly evident, turned his head upon hearing Mu Heun’s faint murmur, his face suddenly urgent as he began moving his lips silently.
-Mu Heun! We finally meet! Please, save me!
Mu Heun’s reason could not quite grasp what situation this was, but his instincts swiftly supplied an answer.
He would pretend not to understand.

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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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