The Fortunate Sword God of the Zhuge Clan - Chapter 6

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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 6.
Mok Chungwoo’s voice rose with agitation as he spoke.
“That—how could you—how did you…?”
“How did I come to be here, you mean? That’s what you should be asking, isn’t it?”
Muhun’s face spread with a sneer.
“If you phrase it that way, it sounds as though you already knew I was here. Better to ask how I arrived at this place.”
At Muhun’s correction, Mok Chungwoo gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth.
His entire frame screamed a man utterly without talent for deception.
“No, no—what are you saying! Do you even know what that is? It’s—”
“The Mok clan’s family heirloom. The Hundred Year Lingzhi Herb that the clan elder buried in the Estate grounds after bribing the steward of the Main house.”
Muhun’s words left Mok Chungwoo breathless, as though his throat had closed.
“You—you know about that?”
“You don’t seem inclined to hide it at all.”
Muhun gave a light nod.
“Indeed. Once I discovered it, I pressed the steward for answers and learned the entire truth.”
Muhun’s expression darkened.
“The clan elder deceived our steward into thinking she was his lost daughter, then asked her to bury this as a gift to extract you from here—is that it?”
Mok Chungwoo fell silent.
Every word was true.
‘It’s all been exposed? Is this truly the end?’
No. No, it wasn’t.
Mok Chungwoo shook his head vigorously.
‘The Patriarch and Young Patriarch of the Jegal clan—they still don’t know.’
Just moments ago, at the gathering, the Mok clan had asked the Jegal clan for help in recovering the heirloom.
Both members of the Jegal clan had expressed concern as though hearing this news for the first time, pledging their full assistance.
Which meant only this boy, only this young master, knew the truth.
That he had discovered this much and yet reported nothing to the Patriarch suggested…
“Then, young master, is there something you wish from this old man?”
Mok Chungwoo’s mind raced, searching for the best possible response.
Indeed, Muhun’s eyes glinted—he had found his target.
‘Ah, so this boy does want something!’
Mok Chungwoo was certain of it, but the truth was entirely different.
‘I never imagined he’d arrive at such an answer. What could the Mok clan possibly have that I want?’
He was simply bewildered by this unexpected, absurd conclusion.
‘Well, if that’s what he believes… then why not? I could work with that.’
Muhun selected one from among sixteen schemes he had prepared.
Since any of them would yield the same result—each as balanced and effective as the others—the choice was free.
“Something I want. Yes, there is.”
Mok Chungwoo brightened eagerly.
“Truly! What is it? If you keep this secret, I will grant whatever I can!”
First, he had to escape this predicament.
With that thought, Mok Chungwoo arranged his face into the most cordial expression he could manage.
Muhun offered a faint smile.
“Would you care to guess?”
“Guess? What do you mean?”
Mok Chungwoo was thrown off by this unexpected turn.
“The matter itself is something I’d rather not speak of directly. Ahem—”
Muhun coughed softly and continued.
“Since it runs counter to the wishes of the Patriarch himself, I’ve no desire to align my words with someone who cannot perceive even this much.”
In other words: a test of whether Mok Chungwoo possessed the wit to conceal this affair.
‘How arrogant!’
Sharp-witted as he was, Mok Chungwoo grasped Muhun’s meaning at once and ground his teeth in fury.
‘A sickly boy who hasn’t even mastered martial arts!’
But he could not let it show on his face.
Muhun’s right hand held Mok Chungwoo’s lifeline.
He might seize it by force, but that was the worst option.
Attack a direct descendant within the Jegal clan?
That would be suicide.
So for now, he had no choice but to play along.
“I see. You too require proof of trust.”
“Precisely. Your understanding is remarkably quick.”
Mok Chungwoo fell silent in thought before speaking.
“…Are you seeking money?”
Muhun burst into hearty laughter.
“Ha! Does the Main house appear so impoverished to you?”
At Muhun’s denial, Mok Chungwoo clicked his tongue inwardly.
Right—the Jegal clan would hardly want for funds.
“Then what of a woman? I could provide you with beauties fair enough to outshine kingdoms.”
Muhun shook his head again.
“That’s not the direction I’m pursuing. What I seek is immediate—something only you can offer now.”
“…Hmm.”
A sickly man who wanted nothing to do with women—it confounded him.
Was he too young yet to know the pleasures of indulgence?
Mok Chungwoo pressed forward with several more proposals.
Martial secrets, rare elixirs beyond the Hundred Year Lingzhi Herb, connections to renowned physicians.
Muhun rejected every single one.
And so Mok Chungwoo’s irritation, mounting steadily, finally erupted.
“You mean to toy with the Main house’s heirloom?!”
Muhun met Mok Chungwoo’s outburst without so much as a blink, and turned the words back on him.
“Toy with it? What reason would I have for jest in such a situation?”
“And yet here you stand, dismissing everything I’ve offered! Not a single thing moves you? Impossible! Can a man truly be so—”
Muhun let out a hollow laugh at Mok Chungwoo’s tirade.
‘Can a man be so?’ he thought.
That was precisely what he wanted to ask.
He’d never imagined he would hear such words directed at himself by Mok Chungwoo.
Muhun gazed down at the old man with a measured look.
His face still bore a smile, yet his eyes were utterly frigid.
“It’s true—what you’ve described would tempt most people.”
“Exactly! And yet you deny them all? What in the heavens do you actually want!”
Muhun exhaled softly.
‘He’s walked into battle before, so I harbored at least some small hope,’ he mused.
What Muhun had hoped for from Mok Chungwoo was minimal—the smallest measure of conscience.
He harbored no thought of forgiveness, and yet the man stood among the righteous sects, did he not?
And this was all such a figure had to offer?
The conversation had rendered even that meager expectation hollow.
“What I seek is an apology.”
“…An apology?”
Mok Chungwoo’s face registered surprise for a moment, then quickly cleared as comprehension dawned.
“Ah, for orchestrating this affair? Of course. I was blinded by avarice, and…”
He felt not a shred of genuine remorse, but the circumstances made swift action impossible.
Whether he held the position of patriarch of the Mok clan or not was secondary now.
To survive, he had to recover the heirloom by any means necessary.
For that, a hollow apology was a trifling price.
“Not to me.”
“For the grave error I committed—”
But Muhun’s meaning was altogether different.
“Kneel before the child you deceived and beg her forgiveness. Tell her you lied, that you are not her true father. Confess that every bit of it was for your own selfish hunger.”
At Muhun’s words, Mok Chungwoo gaped once more.
Then his brow furrowed with terrible fury.
“…Now you show your true colors! Spouting madness!”
Mok Chungwoo’s face twisted into something ghastly as his voice turned vicious.
“I am Mok Chungwoo, elder of the Mok clan! You demand I kneel to some orphan waif of unknown birth? What do you take the pride of my house for!”
At Mok Chungwoo’s response, Muhun nodded slowly.
‘So it is beyond him,’ he thought.
To raise a motherless child and claim her as your own daughter.
To harbor envy of a neighbor’s standing and deceive even your own clan in pursuit of it.
And when confronted, to fly into indignation with such brazen disregard—was that man’s pride truly so unbearable to set aside?
In that case, Muhun had nothing further to say.
“Very well. Then we have little choice.”
Muhun turned his gaze toward the Patriarch’s Hall, where the gathering was underway.
“Time is running short, so I’m afraid I’ve no choice in the matter.”
Following Muhun’s intent, Mok Chungwoo turned to look at the Patriarch’s Hall along his gaze.
Only then did the gravity of the situation dawn on him, and his face darkened.
‘How… how much time has passed?’
It seemed an hour had elapsed since he’d gone to the privy.
And that was merely an estimate—the truth was likely longer still.
“An hour being what it is, surely the gathering must be drawing to a close?”
A fair point.
Moreover, an hour was already suspicious time enough, even with the best of intentions.
It was more than likely that the Patriarch of the Mok clan and others of the Jegal clan would soon come searching for him.
“It seems you’re growing more anxious, Elder.”
Muhun’s words scraped raw against Mok Chungwoo’s nerves.
‘Damn this whelp…!’
Had he deliberately stalled for time?
Though his heart quickened, he could not leave the family heirloom in Muhun’s hands.
‘What do I do? What can I possibly do…!’
By his last words, it seemed Muhun had no intention of returning the heirloom at all.
Kneel before some bastard child and beg forgiveness?
A noble house had its pride—he would rather die than commit such an act.
As if he would ever do such a thing himself!
‘So you claim to have no choice because time is running out?’
That was to say he would inform the Patriarch of everything.
‘…Curse it all! I must recover the heirloom. No matter what happens to that bastard!’
He already knew the judgment was foolish.
Beyond mere suicide on Mok Chungwoo’s part, it could bring ruin upon his entire family.
Yet Mok Chungwoo lacked the composure to think so far ahead.
‘If I do this, I have to kill them both—that whelp and that girl—without trace!’
Even if he recovered the Hundred Year Lingzhi Herb, if Muhun spread word of the incident and presented the girl as a witness, it would be catastrophic.
A girl’s testimony alone mattered little, but Muhun was direct blood of the Jegal clan.
No matter how sickly he was, his words would carry unmistakable weight.
As this realization took hold, Mok Chungwoo began to consider how to dispose of Muhun.
His decision, unlike the hesitation he’d felt while answering Muhun’s question, came swiftly.
‘No trace can be left.’
He’d heard the boy suffered from Jual Maek Jeung—unable to cultivate martial prowess.
If so, there existed an easy method to eliminate him.
At the very moment of his resolve, Mok Chungwoo clenched his fist.
‘Force inner energy through his meridians and twist his vital points!’
Then Muhun, who had been watching him quietly, opened his mouth.
“One last thing—a word of advice, if I may.”
Muhun pointed a finger at Mok Chungwoo’s clenched fist.
“I’d suggest you refrain from acting on that thought.”
Mok Chungwoo let out a hollow laugh.
Bluster and shadow.
For all his cleverness, the boy was nothing but a whelp.
The desperation of one facing death was plain as day in his eyes.
“Sharp senses indeed. You were quite good at word games just moments ago, weren’t you?”
Without hesitation, Mok Chungwoo moved through the footwork of the Biwhwan Dancheon Doro, based on the Mok clan’s secret art Danhyang Singong.
“Regret your arrogance in the next life!”
A useless branch of the Jegal clan, untrained in martial arts.
He would die in an instant, never knowing what had struck him down.
But such thoughts remained only Mok Chungwoo’s own.
“…What?”
On the third step forward.
Mok Chungwoo’s body froze as though paralyzed.
‘An acupuncture point strike? That’s impossible.’
The numbing sensation was like being struck at a vital meridian point, yet it couldn’t be.
Aside from the fact that the boy had never trained in martial arts, even if he had, he could never strike his acupuncture points at this distance.
Such a feat demanded a mastery far beyond what any boy his age could achieve.
“What… what have you done? What trickery is this?”
At Mok Chungwoo’s cry, Muhun released a faint sigh.
“I gave you a final chance, and yet you’ve made your choice.”
Muhun had encountered Mok Chungwoo in his previous life.
And in this life, he had faced the scheme Mok Chungwoo had set in motion.
Weighing these factors, Muhun had been certain this attack would come.
As an elder of the Mok clan without martial training, Muhun would normally be no match for him.
Indeed, the footwork Mok Chungwoo had displayed moments ago had been nearly invisible.
Yet there was no cause for concern.
Within the Jegal clan, members of the Jegal clan were invincible.
“The Formation technique is called Yeok Yeon Ju Bak.”
Muhun descended slowly and approached Mok Chungwoo.
“It is the thirteenth Formation technique of the Shinbaek Gi Jin, of which the Main house is so proud. If the target moves exactly as they were programmed to move beforehand, their entire body locks in that instant.”
Formation techniques can be installed anywhere, but the Jegal clan’s buildings are designed with a structure that amplifies their effectiveness.
And what if a direct descendant like Muhun designed it himself?
Such a technique could bind even a master at the Hwa Gyeong level for a time.
A martial artist of Mok Chungwoo’s caliber would not be able to move so much as a fingertip of his own will.
Bound by Yeok Yeon Ju Bak, Mok Chungwoo stared ahead in shock and demanded, “You—you haven’t even trained in martial arts, and you predicted my movements? How?”

To Mok Chungwoo, it was unthinkable. But for Muhun, it was no difficult feat.
The Biwhwan Dancheon Doro of the Mok clan—he had observed it many times in his past life.
And Muhun was a man who had devoted his entire existence to pursuing martial arts and elixirs.
He had merely drawn upon his clear memories.
“I know what you have done all this time. How could I not have foreseen this one thing?”
But there was neither thought nor reason to explain it to him.
“And you hardly have the leisure to concern yourself with such matters.”
Muhun turned his head to the right and gazed beyond the pillar.
“Isn’t that so, Father?”
At Muhun’s words, Jegal Cheonseong, the Patriarch of the Jegal clan, emerged from behind the pillar.
“Indeed it is.”
Then came Jegal Muyoung, the heir apparent, Mok Hyunchul, the Patriarch of the Mok clan, and Ran as well.
All those involved in the affair had gathered on the Estate grounds.
At this sight, Mok Chungwoo’s face drained of all color.
‘Why are you here? When did you arrive?’
As if reading Mok Chungwoo’s thoughts, Jegal Cheonseong stroked his mustache lightly and spoke.
“From the beginning. More precisely, from when you were busy digging in the earth.”
Muhun had asked Jegal Cheonseong and Jegal Muyoung to come to this place a quarter hour after Mok Chungwoo left.
Since Mok Chungwoo had been absorbed in his digging for more than an hour, they had naturally observed everything from that point onward.
“We saw and heard everything that transpired just now. The deeds you committed, the assault upon a direct descendant of the Main house—my son.”
The light in Jegal Cheonseong’s eyes shifted.
It resembled the coldness in Muhun’s gaze as he looked down upon Mok Chungwoo, yet its chill was like the edge of frost itself.
“Have you any defense to offer?”

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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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