The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 52

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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 52
Dok Go Hyeon’s face twisted with betrayal as he met Mu Heun’s response.
As though such things mattered little, Dang So Muk—who had arrived before Yun Hak Jin without anyone noticing—cupped his fists in salute, paying his respects to the legendary master of the Martial World.
“Dang So Muk, Family Head of the Dang Family of Sichuan, bows before the great senior of the Martial World, the True Immortal of Wudang.”
Though Yun Hak Jin had received the same greeting more than ten times over, he met Dang So Muk with an expression of unwavering kindness.
“Heh heh, that the pillar of the Orthodox Faction, Family Head Dang, should hold this old man in such high regard—like a towering mountain peak—makes me feel as though I walk among the clouds today. I am truly embarrassed.”
At words that instead elevated himself, Dang So Muk lowered his head further.
“Compared to your renowned reputation, my efforts are but a shadow.”
“Please, say no more. I am simply relieved to see that you remain in good health.”
“It is only thanks to your concern, True Immortal.”
After completing his greeting with Yun Hak Jin, Dang So Muk turned his head in a full circle and offered salutes to the leaders of the other great sects.
“I must beg your pardon. I, Dang Mo, have arrived last to this gathering of the great pillars of the Orthodox Faction. I wish to make clear that this was not the result of any deliberate intention, and I offer my sincere apologies once more.”
It was an apology meant to assure them he had not arrived late out of a desire to flaunt his clan’s prestige.
In truth, even had the petty rivalry stirred by Namkoong Cheon not faded, there was no reason for Dang So Muk—the youngest Family Head among the Five Great Families—to harbor such an intention and arrive late.
The leaders of the other sects, understanding this well enough, all waved their hands with warm laughter.
“It is we who arrived early. It is not the Family Head who is late, is it not so? There is no need for apology.”
“Indeed. Think nothing of it. You have traveled so far from distant Sichuan—please, be seated.”
Though the Dang Family had indeed arrived last among the great sects, they had still arrived more than an hour before the appointed time.
The reason they appeared late was simply that everyone, true to the Orthodox Faction’s nature, had departed with the thought that they must arrive before the agreed hour—and thus, by necessity, they became the final arrivals.
“Thank you for your consideration, seniors.”
Dang So Muk expressed his gratitude to the other leaders and cast a meaningful glance at the reason for his late arrival.
Dok Go Hyeon, sensing the razor-sharp killing intent, swallowed a breath and deliberately avoided Dang So Muk’s gaze.
Yet no matter how hard he tried to pretend ignorance, he could not block out the voice that rang through his mind.
—Because of you, I have even had to apologize to my seniors. Remember this well. The main family repays kindness tenfold and vengeance a hundredfold.
At the unmistakable warning, Dok Go Hyeon struggled to swallow his frustration.
‘This damned mess. How is any of this my fault?’
Dok Go Hyeon glanced at Dang Cho Bin, who clung to his arm with no intention of letting go.
A beauty with the bearing of a cat—the kind who drew compliments wherever she went.
While not unfortunate in appearance, Dok Go Hyeon—who had grown up hearing himself called savage-looking—was now paired with a woman who boasted both the looks and family status he could never have encountered in an ordinary life.
Yet he swore to heaven that he had never once cast an inviting glance her way.
With revenge burning in his heart and hope invested in the Cheon응 Group, his mind was so full of training that he had no room for dalliance.
‘This wretch suddenly latched onto me—what am I supposed to do about it?’
Remarkably, Dok Go Hyeon’s savage features matched precisely the ideal man in Dang Cho Bin’s imagination.
Yet no one believed that she had pursued him first.
Dang So Muk, especially, was furious—convinced that Dok Go Hyeon had seduced his precious jewel.
Had it not been for the Poison Seal Authority he received from the master, Dok Go Hyeon would have vanished from the world without a trace.
The very reason the Dang Family arrived last was that Dang Cho Bin had insisted on not parting with Dok Go Hyeon.
Unable to find a solution alone, Dok Go Hyeon had counted the days until he could meet Mu Heun, who always offered him wise counsel—but.
‘That bastard is just pretending not to notice….’
Dok Go Hyeon tried to mask his wounded expression.
And as Dang So Muk watched this, he turned his gaze away and looked toward Jegal Cheonseong.
“It seems the strategist remains in excellent health.”
“…? The Family Head also appears to be thriving, fortunately.”
Jegal Cheonseong raised one eyebrow at the anger veiled in Dang So Muk’s tone.
“Thanks to the martial artist Dok Go whom you sent us, the servants of our family have achieved considerable progress as well.”
Catching Dang So Muk’s intent, Jegal Cheonseong glanced at Dok Go Hyeon and Dang Cho Bin, then cleared his throat.
“Hm. That is indeed… fortunate.”
“Yes, quite fortunate.”
At Dang So Muk’s forced laughter that made no effort to hide itself, Jegal Cheonseong offered an awkward smile.
He had learned through reports that Dok Go Hyeon was training at the Dang Family using the Poison Seal Authority he received from the master.
But that also meant, conversely, that beyond what had been reported, he knew little of Dok Go Hyeon.
Since there was no way to know how the Dang Family’s daughter had come to be enamored with Dok Go Hyeon, Jegal Cheonseong naturally turned toward Yun Hak Jin and changed the subject.
“Then, True Immortal. Now that all the sects and families of this alliance have gathered….”
“Heh heh, indeed so.”
Yun Hak Jin nodded and rose from his seat.
Dang So Muk swallowed silently and took his designated place.
Observing this, Yun Hak Jin slowly turned his gaze and took in each of the martial artists assembled in this hall one by one.
“Though I have nothing to boast of save a long life, I find myself in this generous position to receive you all today.”
His voice was not loud, nor was it laden with inner force, yet everyone within Jasojeon Hall felt a subtle dizziness from it.
It was a testament to how profound Yun Hak Jin’s mastery had become.
“I often wonder whether living stubbornly through the years alone warrants such treatment, but today my thoughts stray in a different direction. To stand before the Yangtze flowing with such vigor… it’s true. I should have lived longer. That’s what I find myself thinking. Heh heh.”
Yun Hak Jin stroked his snow-white beard and left pauses between his words.
From the sect masters to the rising generation—in his expression as he faced all who represented the Orthodox Faction, a quiet emotion glimmered.
“When streams gather, they become mighty rivers; when breath accumulates, flowers finally bloom. The dragons and phoenixes assembled here radiate a power that already climbs toward the roof of Jasojeon Hall. To support and witness that current, as an old man who has witnessed the virtue of the Orthodox Way, is only proper.”
As Yun Hak Jin extended his hand gently toward empty air, an invisible Taoist resonance embraced the entirety of Jasojeon Hall with warmth.
It was not a crushing pressure, but rather like the bright spring breath that quickens all living things.
The martial artists of Jasojeon Hall who felt this released involuntary exclamations of wonder.
Yang Mujin was no exception.
“…Huh.”
With just that small gesture, to reshape the natural energy of the entire Jasojeon Hall without the slightest oppressiveness?
The title of True Immortal was indeed not inadequate for such mystical power.
As if the matter were trivial, Yun Hak Jin met the gazes concentrated upon him and continued in a benevolent voice.
“Thus, in accordance with Providence, the Taoist Order declares the opening of the Dragon Phoenix Gathering, wherein the talents of the world inquire into and answer one another’s ways.”
At those words, every martial artist of the celebrated Orthodox sects gathered in that place cried out in unison.
***
With the opening of the Dragon Phoenix Gathering declared, Wudang Mountain, which had already grown as crowded as a festival ground, was now so packed with people that scarcely a foothold remained.
Fortunately, the participants of this Dragon Phoenix Gathering—
that is, martial artists of Mu Heun’s generation—were able to rent an entire inn to themselves, where they could gather and deepen their bonds.
Not only those from major sects, but martial artists from minor and mid-tier sects who had registered for the preliminaries could participate, so this gathering truly held every rising generation warrior of the Orthodox Faction.
Yet, those from major sects and those from minor sects spoke with one another as though by prior arrangement, separated by invisible lines.
What divided them was space itself.
The rising generation from major sects naturally claimed the upper floor, while those from minor sects took the lower without complaint.
Despite Namkoong Cheon’s efforts in his own way, this was still an age when hierarchy within the Orthodox Faction was naturally determined by one’s sect of origin.
Those from sects rooted in the Taoist tradition showed less of such behavior, but the problem lay with those from the great families.
Each of their clans was vast enough that one could say it had seized dominion over an entire region, and within that vastness, they had been raised with honor.
Moreover, unlike those from sects that had not experienced many Dragon Phoenix Gatherings, they knew that their families had consistently achieved excellent results.
In other words, it meant they understood that whether in martial prowess or authority, they possessed greater power.
And in the Martial World, might is law.
‘That power should be used to protect the weak—such is the Way of the Orthodox Faction.’
At such lamentable conduct, Mu Heun swallowed a sigh.
Because the rising generation of the Five Great Families, accustomed to the Dragon Phoenix Gathering, conducted themselves in this manner, even those from other sects hesitated to mingle with those below.
No matter how brilliant one’s talent, when one gathers with others of similar gifts, one tends to follow the conduct of those with louder voices.
All the more so when one is young.
In his past life, the effort he had shared most deeply with Seo Ryong was precisely breaking through the vanity that the rising generation of the great families possessed.
‘Yet it won’t be as difficult as last time.’
It was manifest that persuading those still among the rising generation was easier than convincing middle-aged men whose minds had hardened like stone.
And besides, did Mu Heun of this life not possess martial strength as well?
Of course, what he was most confident in remained something else entirely.
While Mu Heun was thinking thus, seated before him—
“Yet, Jegal brother, I had heard you suffered from grave illness, so how did you reach such a realm?”
Moyong Bul Hwi, the second son of the Moyong Family and hegemon of Liaoning, asked with a peculiar smile.
“Of course it is a matter most worthy of congratulation, but not only to cure the illness but to reach Peak Stage? The mystical arts of the Jegal Family seem to touch heaven itself. Or perhaps, does this one not know of some special method you employed?”
“Brother!”
Moyong So Ah, his younger sister, stopped him with an alarmed expression at Moyong Bul Hwi’s untoward remark.
It was only natural. The phrase “some special method” was merely a euphemism—it harbored the implication of sorcery.
But Moyong Bul Hwi shrugged as if he did not understand and drained his cup.
“What? It’s not such a strange thing to say, is it? We’ve seen each other often enough as members of the same Five Great Families, but has anyone here ever seen Jegal brother in such health? He could barely walk. I was merely curious, that’s all.”
“Even so…!”
“Even so.”
Clink.
The sound of a cup being set down was light, yet loud enough for all at the shared table to hear.
“Your jest seems to have gone too far, Moyong. Hahaha!”
Namkoong Seo Ryong, the source of that sound, blocked Moyong Bul Hwi’s conduct with a bright laugh.
“…Have I pushed the joke too far? Ha ha. If Namkoong brother says so, then it seems I have. A bit too much wine, it appears.”
“Heh heh. It is a joyful gathering after all. I too find myself anxious, knowing it has been so long since I last exchanged greetings with everyone.”
“Too far… yes. I overstepped. Jegal brother. Will you accept a toast from me as apology?”
Moyong Bul Hwi extended his cup to Mu Heun without showing the slightest discomfort.
“Of course. There is no need to apologize so earnestly.”
Mu Heun likewise offered his cup with an easy smile.
The two cups met in the empty air between them.
Thump~
In the next moment, Moyong Bul Hwi’s expression visibly stiffened.
“….”
“Hmm? Is something the matter, Moyong?”
At Mu Heun’s cheerful question, Moyong Bul Hwi fell silent for a beat before forcing an awkward smile.
“No… it’s nothing. The wine tastes excellent, doesn’t it? Yes, the dishes prepared by the Dang Family certainly live up to their reputation.”
Though Moyong Bul Hwi tried to appear unconcerned, Mu Heun saw through him perfectly—he knew exactly what the man was thinking.
‘It can’t be…’ the older man was surely telling himself. ‘Such a thing is impossible.’
The moment they’d clinked their cups together, Moyong Bul Hwi had naturally pushed his Inner Force toward Mu Heun.
Had Mu Heun not released his own Inner Force in that instant to receive the strike, the cup would have slipped from his grasp.
It was payback—Namkoong Seo Ryong had scolded him, and now he was taking out his frustration on Mu Heun.
It was absurd, but such was his nature: always eager to impress those stronger than himself, yet endlessly contemptuous of those weaker.
He’d assumed that though Mu Heun possessed considerable Internal Power, surely he couldn’t command his Inner Force as skillfully as Moyong Bul Hwi himself could.
‘Still, he has his pride—he did stand his ground to the very end…’
In this life, Mu Heun harbored no ill will toward him, yet neither would he simply let provocation pass unanswered.
There were, in fact, methods to immediately make the difference in their strength plain. But Moyong Bul Hwi had his uses for now.
“…Still, brother, you won’t mind if I ask a question or two, will you?”
Moyong Bul Hwi’s voice had taken on a noticeably more deferential tone.
Faced with such transparent behavior, Mu Heun replied with a bright smile.
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“Well… the Jegal Family Estate… that is to say, I was wondering if you might tell me how your illness was cured? If it’s classified, you needn’t speak of it. If it’s a family secret, then of course it should be kept. I understand.”
“You really are…”
“No, I’m genuinely curious. How did you… overcome that affliction?”
Mu Heun slowly nodded, as if to acknowledge that matters had unfolded exactly as he’d anticipated.
‘Of course. There’s no way Moyong wouldn’t be curious.’
For all his bloodline as the deputy commander’s son, the sickly Mu Heun had been a convenient outlet for Moyong Bul Hwi’s sense of superiority.
That Mu Heun had transformed into a martial artist who now pricked at that very pride—this was understandably the source of burning curiosity.
“Ha. There’s no great secret to it. I’ll tell you.”
At Mu Heun’s assent, Moyong Bul Hwi’s face brightened.
“Really? Truly?”
“Indeed. Though to explain it properly, I’ll need to call someone.”
“Someone? Call whom?”
Mu Heun rose from his seat and leaned against the nearby railing, gazing down to the first floor below.
“Dok Go Hyeon!”
At Mu Heun’s call, Dok Go Hyeon, who had been conversing with a group of martial artists on the first floor, looked up with wide eyes.
“What is it? Traitor.”
“Ha! Traitor, you say? Surely not such a thing. Might you come up to the second floor for a moment?”
“Huh?”
At Mu Heun’s words, Moyong Bul Hwi let out an exasperated exclamation.
“Wait—you’re summoning a first-floor martial artist to the second floor? What are you doing?”
“What do you mean? I simply told you I needed to call the person necessary for my explanation.”
“But even so, those martial artists—they’re not the same as us…”
“They are no different.”
“What—”
Mu Heun cut him off firmly.
Moyong Bul Hwi’s lips parted as if to protest, but in the end he said nothing.
In that instant, Mu Heun’s expression had grown as cold as Moyong Bul Hwi had never seen it before.
“They too are martial artists who sustain the Orthodox Faction and this Martial World. I would prefer you not speak of them in such a manner.”
“…No… that…”
For a moment, Mu Heun’s gaze remained cool and appraising. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the chill vanished, and he smiled warmly.
“And besides, without Dok Go Hyeon, I couldn’t possibly tell you the story of my accomplishment. Wasn’t it you who wished to hear it?”
Confronted with that smiling face, yet haunted by the expression he’d glimpsed moments before, Moyong Bul Hwi found little to say in protest and slowly inclined his head.
“Yes… you’re right.”
“Then I shall call him. Dok Go Hyeon!”
“I hear you! I’m coming!”
Dok Go Hyeon climbed the stairs slowly and emerged onto the second floor.
It was the first time a first-floor martial artist had ascended to the second, and even those of the sect who harbored no particular prejudice fixed their gaze upon Dok Go Hyeon.
Yet Dok Go Hyeon paid little heed to their stares.
The one gaze that weighed most heavily upon him was Dang Cho Bin’s, piercing him like an arrow.
Dok Go Hyeon did his best to ignore that penetrating look as he reached the dining table where Mu Heun sat.
“So then, why did you call us here?”
Dok Go Hyeon’s question drew a thin smile from Mu Heun.
“The people gathered here wished to hear of our adventures, sir.”
“Adventures? Ah, you mean your ascension to the Peak Stage.”
“Yes, though to be precise—”
Mu Heun infused his next words with just enough Inner Force to carry them clearly throughout the tavern.
“We speak of obtaining the Empty Blue Stone Oil.”
At those words, the din of the tavern ceased at once, as if a switch had been thrown.

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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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