The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 296

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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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The Youngest Son of the Jin Family of Luoyang – Chapter 296

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“What are you talking about? What happened?”
“The water transport! The water transport! It’s completely ruined!”
“Just now?”
The sudden outcry silenced the haggling that had filled the marketplace.
In the blink of an eye, people swarmed together, and murmurs spread like ripples in water without anyone needing to prompt them.
For those who had staked their lives on the Yangtze River region, news of the water transport was a matter of life and death. Everyone pricked up their ears and craned their necks to listen intently.
“You know, that Ro Gangpyo! He’s dead! They’ve confirmed it at the authorities just now!”
“W-what? How did he…?”
“He tried to rob the youngest young master of the Jin Family of Luoyang… and died by his hand.”
As the words spilled out, the very air seemed to freeze, and a moment of silence fell over everything.
Everyone’s breath was sucked in at once, then burst out, and soon cries of disbelief erupted from all directions.
Chae Ju, the commander of the Yangtze water transport.
Those three characters were a name of infamy and terror known to anyone living in the martial world of the Central Plains.
The record of government forces launching a suppression campaign only to be completely annihilated within days, the stories of even renowned masters challenging him only to surface as corpses in the river.
The reputation he had built was no mere bandit leader’s authority.
Even the Martial Arts Alliance dared not touch him lightly, and even the government had no choice but to turn a blind eye to his absolute martial power.
And yet, Ro Gangpyo was dead?
Moreover, the one who ended his life was not a renowned warrior, but a member of a merchant family—the youngest of the Jin Family of Luoyang.
“It can’t be…”
“How could Ro Gangpyo fall so pathetically…”
“R-right. Who doesn’t know his skill…”
People stared at each other’s faces, unable to believe the story at all.
The words that followed were even harder to believe.
But what gave credibility to this tale was the existence of one person.
“Cheongdam, one of the Mudang Ogum, witnessed it directly. They say he unleashed a brilliant sword aura and split him in half?”
“Sword aura?! Is that really true? Sword aura means… the ultimate pinnacle…? At that age? No, isn’t that something even the Sword Emperor couldn’t achieve…?”
“That’s why everyone’s so shocked, isn’t it? Ha, the ultimate pinnacle…”
Sword aura.
The realm where one’s inner energy is completely full, will crystallizes on the blade, and that will rides the energy and bursts forth.
No matter how many talents there were, those who had demonstrated sword aura before even reaching thirty years of age could be counted on one hand throughout history.
And all five of them were warriors spoken of in myth and legend.
Jin Cheon-u’s extraordinary growth was now overshadowing the names on people’s lips and heralding the beginning of a new legend.
Thus the rumors spread like wildfire.
The rumors that began near the Yangtze River soon swept across the entire Central Plains.
Naturally, the Martial Arts Alliance could not help but take notice.
Hye-myeong, the leader of the Martial Arts Alliance.
He listened to the news Jegal Daewun brought, quietly stroking his beard.
His eyes remained still, yet something stirred slowly in the depths of that abyss.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
“Is this truly the case?”
Jegal Daewun asked carefully.
“Heh, what does it matter if it’s true or false? Does it bear any consequence on the Alliance’s gains or losses?”
“No, it does not. It’s simply that such a matter has never occurred before, and I was uncertain how to respond, so I inquired.”
“There is no need to respond. We simply allow things to flow as they will. Commander, surely you don’t harbor thoughts of conflict with the Jin Family of Luoyang?”
“How could such a thing be possible?”
“Then all is well. He is not one to wield the power in his grasp recklessly, so do not worry. Rather… how are matters progressing?”
A question suddenly posed.
Jegal Daewun paused momentarily to compose himself before answering.
Moryeong Hyeok.
Dozens of days had already passed since his capture.
The Moyong Family warriors brought from Beijing were already imprisoned deep within the Sealing Celestial Prison.
The elders who remained in the Martial Arts Alliance were also bound in chains and taken down there. Their refusal to speak was like a wall with not a single crack.
“As if they had coordinated their words, they claim ignorance, merely repeating that they were following Moryeong Hyeok’s orders.”
“Amitabha Buddha…”
Hye-myeong closed his eyes.
In his mind’s eye appeared the visage of Moryeong Hyeok—bearing wounds so severe they were painful to witness, yet radiating an unwavering resolve in his gaze.
In that moment, Hye-myeong understood.
That man would not open his mouth no matter what.
Even if death came for him.
Just as Hye-myeong’s brow furrowed deeper.
Boom—!
A massive door burst open as Hwangbo Janghu rushed in.
His breathing was ragged, evidence of his hurried arrival, and his complexion had turned ashen, drained of all color.
Hye-myeong and Jegal Daewun turned their questioning gazes toward him.
Soon, his mouth opened.
“…Alliance Leader!”
“What is the matter?”
“The people of the Moyong Family… they have been slain.”
“…!”
Hye-myeong did not ask for clarification.
An instinct that required no explanation struck his mind like a hammer.
Tap—
He pushed off from his seat and hurried forward.
His destination was deep within the Martial Arts Alliance, a place few could easily approach.
The Sealing Celestial Prison.
That place, said to be capable of imprisoning even the heavens themselves, was where those requiring discreet handling within the Alliance were confined.
Only a handful of people even knew of its existence and location, and throughout the compound, the Alliance’s elite warriors lay hidden, maintaining constant surveillance.
Neither entry nor exit could be made freely—a fortress of absolute confinement.
Hye-myeong hastened to that place and pushed open the doors of the Sealed Heaven Tower, stepping inside.
“….”
In that instant, the thick, cloying stench of blood washed over him.
Without thinking, he stopped in his tracks and turned his gaze.
Inside the vast Sealed Heaven Tower, one could hardly be blamed for thinking that human blood had formed a small river.
Squelch, squelch—
With each step, the viscous blood clung to his feet.
As he surveyed the scene before him, he saw not only the Moyong Family warriors captured in Beijing, but also the elders from within the Alliance itself, lying sprawled in pools of their own blood.
There was not even a trace of resistance.
As if their lives had been snuffed out without a sound, without a soul knowing.
And as he reached the end—
“Amitabha Buddha—.”
Hye-myeong stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock.
There lay the corpse of Moryeong Hyeok.
Yet it was no mere corpse.
Unlike those who had fallen to a single blade, Moryeong Hyeok’s remains were gruesome beyond measure.
His entire body had been slashed to ribbons.
Each wound was cunningly placed to avoid the vital points, bearing the marks of prolonged suffering inflicted deliberately until death.
The work of one consumed by profound hatred was unmistakable.
Witnessing this, Hye-myeong clenched his fists.
Veins bulged across the backs of his hands, yet his expression remained unmoved.
A moment of silence.
Within the Sealed Heaven Tower, there was only the reek of blood and the heavy weight of stillness.
Anyone else would have wailed or unleashed their fury before such a sight.
But Hye-myeong was different.
He lowered his head and brought his hands together.
With palms pressed in the manner of Buddhist prayer, he parted his tightly sealed lips and uttered but a single word.
“Amitabha Buddha—.”
That brief utterance echoed through the depths of the tower’s ceiling.
It spread across the blood-stained floor, sinking into the crimson like a requiem for the departed.
It was not that anger was absent.
Rather, within him, thunder-like flames were rising.
Yet he suppressed it all beneath the teachings of the Buddha, pressed it down, and swallowed it once more.
That silence was heavier than thunder, colder than any blade.
The tips of his clenched fists trembled ever so slightly, yet Hye-myeong’s face betrayed not the slightest disturbance.
Hwangbo Janghu and Jegal Daewun, standing beside him, were crushed beneath that weight, not daring even to breathe loudly.
The silence of the Alliance Master was itself both command and warning.
Hye-myeong, Master of the Martial Arts Alliance.
The fact that he did not unleash his fury—that was the most terrifying truth for everyone present in this place.

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After commandeering a vessel from the water transport station and entering a nearby village, I had no choice but to procure another boat bound for Hubei and continue our journey.
Unlike the decrepit vessel I had ridden before, this one offered ample space for rest, and with few passengers aboard, the voyage proved remarkably comfortable.
After drifting leisurely for several days in this manner, the provincial capital of Hubei—Wuhan—gradually came into view.
“We’ve finally arrived.”
“It’s been an easy yet difficult journey in many ways.”
So-ha exhaled deeply and shook her head.
She had believed that since we were traveling by water rather than overland, nothing would occur this time.
Yet who could have anticipated encountering Chae Ju on the Yangtze River?
It was equally unforeseen to me.
“Why not consider it a lesson in life? The world doesn’t always flow as we wish… something like that.”
“Enough of that.”
She shook her head as if thoroughly exhausted, disembarked from the vessel, and then abruptly halted, her eyes narrowing sharply.
As if verifying whether someone was present, she surveyed her surroundings, yet sensing no presence whatsoever, she furrowed her brow.
“Surely you’re not following me even when I sleep or bathe?”
“Don’t worry. He knows the value of his own life.”
Was it because of those words?
I suddenly felt the air tremble.
Simultaneously, Jang Chuchyeong and Namgung Yeon, sensing something, surveyed their surroundings, and as if startled, they quickly composed themselves and their presence faded.
“Just now… it seems something was there?”
“Huh? You felt it too? I sensed it as well.”
Jang Chuchyeong and Namgung Yeon began scanning their surroundings with keen eyes. From their sharp gaze alone, one could sense their suspicion that someone might be watching them.
Yet soon they furrowed their brows and withdrew their senses.
No matter how much they searched, nothing revealed itself.
“Ah, Young Master Jin! It has been an honor to accompany you this far!”
At that moment, Cheongdam descended from the vessel and approached, bowing respectfully.
His tone was more formal than before, and his movements were exceedingly cautious.
Having witnessed the previous battle, he may have recognized me as an existence one could not approach carelessly.
I offered a bitter smile and nodded.
“I too was honored to journey alongside one of the Mudang Ogum.”
“Haha, the honor is mine. Moreover, it is rare to witness Sword Force with one’s own eyes. Truly… I can only say it was remarkable.”
Cheongdam seemed lost in thought as he recalled those events. Sword Force is something everyone dreams of, yet few have achieved it.
One could tell from the fact that even the sect masters of the Nine Sects and the family heads of the Eight Great Families were few in number who could manifest it.
“Then I shall take my leave now. I look forward to meeting you again someday.”
“Yes, let us meet again soon.”
“…?”
Cheongdam harbored doubt at my sudden words, yet prioritizing his return to the Martial Artists, he quickly took his leave with proper courtesy.
I watched his figure fade into a distant speck before a small smile crossed my lips, and Namgung Yeon, who had been observing, approached me.
“You’re not going together…?”
“There’s no particular reason to.”
“I thought you might travel together since you’re heading the same way.”
“The path may be the same, but I’ve had enough of his incessant chattering like a sparrow. The Martial Artist doesn’t have much time left—it’s better to travel at ease until then.”
As I spoke those words and turned away, Namgung Yeon nodded in understanding and followed behind me.
My gaze then turned toward the infinite horizon.
The city tower rose majestically, as if confronting the waves of the Yangtze River, and the layered walls stretched on like mountain ranges.
The blue-tiled roofs gleamed brilliantly under the sunlight, and each fluttering banner revealed the might of Hubei.
Before the city gates, carriages and crowds pressed forward in lines, yet all that commotion appeared insignificant before the grandeur of the tower.
The heart of Hubei, the city called a vital crossroads of the realm, finally revealed its majestic presence.
I gazed upon it for a long while, a smile playing at my lips.
“Today, I might finally rest with ease.”

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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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