The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 84

“An excellent fist technique indeed!”

Amid satisfied applause, Namgoong Cheongsan’s demonstration came to an end.

Cheongsan saluted in every direction with a formal fist-in-palm gesture.

Just as everyone assumed he would descend from the arena, Namgoong Cheongsan took a deep breath.

And then, in a voice that echoed across the entire martial arena, he shouted loudly,

“My daughter Hwarin’s skill surpasses my own, so you may look forward to her performance! Elders, I ask you to look kindly upon her!”

It was, indeed, a statement befitting Cheongsan, who was famously doting on his daughter.

Laughter erupted again as Seolhwa tugged on Cheongun’s sleeve.

“Father.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t need to do things like that.”

“...!”

Cheongun flinched and stiffened, and Seolhwa turned to look at him.

“Absolutely not. I hate it.”

Faced with the child’s cold gaze, Cheongun swallowed back a sigh of regret and gave a nod.

“...All right. I understand....”

Following Cheongsan, Hwarin stepped onto the martial platform.

In truth, no one really expected anything from Hwarin.

She was small and slight, like her mother; even just watching her run around the platform would have earned her everyone's affection.

I thought she’d be too shy to come out, like last time. That’s a surprise.

Seolhwa was already impressed just seeing Hwarin climb onto the martial stage.

Hwarin brought something up with her. A servant who followed placed a target about five paces away from her.

Facing the elders, Hwarin bowed deeply once, then again.

Applause filled with encouragement followed, and without explaining what she’d brought, Hwarin turned toward the target.

Soon, a paang! sound rang out in the martial arena. It was the sound of the paper target being ripped apart.

That’s...

Seolhwa’s eyes sparkled.

The Shintan Bow?

Crude though it was, it was unmistakably a Shintan Bow.

An upgraded version of the original tan-gung, a weapon that fired pebbles instead of arrows.

Whereas the conventional tan-gung required loading a stone into the bowstring and manually drawing it back to fire, the Shintan Bow used a mechanical trigger—press the mechanism, and the stone would shoot forward.

Though less powerful than arrows, its faster attack speed emphasized the strength of a projectile weapon.

She had seen a Shintan Bow in her past life.

During a battle with the Namgoong Clan.

When Namgoong first unveiled the Shintan Bow, the Blood Demon Cult’s warriors had been thrown into chaos. That day had ended in complete defeat for the cult.

And now... you're telling me Namgoong Hwarin invented it?

Namgoong Hwarin. She had always seemed quiet, barely noticeable.

Maybe she had more talent in machinery than martial arts.

After firing two more shots, Hwarin gathered up the bow and shyly bowed toward the elders.

Apparently, her talent was astonishing—so much so that the ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) elders of the clan were struck speechless, simply staring at her.

Because of that, the applause grew faint, and feeling embarrassed, Hwarin hurried to step down from the stage.

“Did you make that yourself?”

Namgoong Mucheon asked, and Hwarin gave a small nod.

“Truly—you made it alone?”

Hwarin nodded once more.

Namgoong Mucheon’s lips curved into a deep smile. His gaze was full of pride.

“Well done. That was splendid.”

Surprised by her grandfather’s unexpected praise, Hwarin blinked for a moment—then beamed with a radiant smile.

Then, skipping happily, she bounded off the stage with little pitter-patter steps.

The youngest of the family ran straight into the arms of Moyong Yeonhwa, who was waiting below, and laughter once again blossomed across the martial arena.

Next up was Namgoong Cheonghae.

Namgoong Cheonghae demonstrated a sword technique. Once merely on the verge of Peak Realm, his level had now matured into full mastery.

His sword technique, cloaked in sword qi, was nothing particularly flashy—but it showed clearly that he had not neglected his training.

But that was not all.

Following the sword technique, Namgoong Cheonghae demonstrated a formation.

At first, the reaction was indifferent as he began laying out large stones on the floor of the martial stage—but it changed as soon as a martial artist stepped up onto the arena.

“Please observe as this man enters from the east stair and exits from the west.”

As Cheonghae instructed, the warrior ascended the stage from the east staircase. But—

“What the? What’s he doing?”

“He can’t even find the clearly visible stairs?”

“Huh...”

Instead of walking straight across to the west side, the warrior began wandering aimlessly around the narrow stage.

As though, the moment he stepped onto the platform, he had been trapped in a separate space all his own.

“It’s a formation that clouds vision and distorts judgment. If anyone doubts it, feel free to step forward and see for yourselves.”

At Cheonghae’s words, several elders came forth and stepped onto the stage.

They too wandered around like the warrior, until Cheonghae personally guided them off the formation.

It was an astonishing formation created with nothing more than a few stones.

Did he enchant the stones somehow?

Though the method remained unclear, Namgoong Cheonghae’s strength had been displayed beyond all doubt.

“As expected of the Second Young Master. To be so skilled not only in swordplay but in formations as well—he deserves nothing but praise.”

“Hahaha! If he’s to bear the Namgoong name, he should at least be this capable! Truly reassuring!”

The elders who supported Namgoong Cheonghae took this chance to lavish him with endless praise.

But it wasn’t undeserved flattery—what Namgoong Cheonghae had shown was well worth the admiration.

He prepared thoroughly.

Namgoong Cheonghae, too—knowing that talk of the Young Clan Lord had begun to circulate—must have prepared for the Heavenly Martial Festival with desperate effort.

This was clearly a result he had achieved on his own.

“Father.”

While clapping for his younger brother, Cheongun turned to Seolhwa.

“I think I’ll head off to prepare now.”

Cheongun nodded.

“All right. Go on, and be careful not to trip—it’s dark out now.”

“Yes.”

Seolhwa smiled softly.

“I’ll see you down there. I’ll be back before you go up on stage.”

Cheongun nodded again, and in his gaze was the expression of devoted trust.

“I’ll see you soon.”

After instructing Ryeong to stay behind in the martial arena and observe the situation, Seolhwa left the grounds.

Upon arriving at the pavilion, Yeoyul—who had been anxiously pacing the courtyard—saw her and waved brightly.

“Miss!”

“Are we ready?”

“Yes! We were only waiting for you, Miss! But... are you really sure about this?”

“Of course.”

Though her answer was firm, Yeoyul still couldn’t quite hide her worry.

“Let’s go in.”

Seolhwa and Yeoyul stepped inside the pavilion.

By now the sun had set completely, and darkness blanketed the ground.

Having finished her preparations, Seolhwa returned to the martial arena and made her way directly to the first floor where the stage was set.

Ryeong, spotting her walking along the rear of the raised platform, ran over.

“Miss.”

“Where’s Father?”

“It’s now the First Young Master’s turn.”

“And the ones before him?”

“Young Master Soryong tried to demonstrate the Skybound Swallow Sword but fell and injured his leg. He had to be carried down by his guards. Young Master Woong showed the Grand Vast Sword Art. He’s at five stars in it.”

To reach five stars in the Grand Vast Sword Art at Woong’s age—an accomplishment that clearly marked him as true Namgoong blood.

And just as Ryeong said, in the distance, she could see the back of Cheongun as he stepped up onto the martial stage.

“Let’s go. We need to cheer for Father.”

“Yes.”

Seolhwa moved to a spot with a clear view of the martial stage. The servants and guards who saw her were startled and made way immediately.

The elders seated above were watching Cheongun as he climbed the stage, and thus didn’t notice the figure standing in the shadows below.

Overhead, she could hear their conversation.

“The First Young Master’s martial ability was already impressive.”

“Haha, though I wonder if he’ll show anything new compared to the last Heavenly Martial Festival. He probably didn’t have much time to train...”

What mattered most at the Heavenly Martial Festival was how much one had grown over the past six months.

In that respect, there were few who had expectations for Cheongun. He had been wandering in search of his daughter, with no time to prepare.

In that vague realm of half-indifference, Cheongun assumed the ready stance.

The Namgoong sword art Cheongun chose was the one Seolhwa had demonstrated atop Mount Huang—

Skybound Swallow Sword.

As he entered the starting form, Cheongun exhaled deeply.

Let’s see if I can win over at least thirty percent of the elders. If I do, I’ll find a way to manage the rest.

That was what the Head of the Council had said—win over thirty percent. But Cheongun’s thoughts were different.

Thirty percent won’t be enough.

The rest of the elders’ minds, the faction elders backing Cheonghae, his father’s expectations—all of it.

I must win them over with my own strength.

Not through anyone else’s help—only by his own power.

What Seolhwa wants is a Clan Lord who has strength.

Not one who can be swayed.

But a Clan Lord who rules, like his father does now.

To do that, he had to be recognized without leaning on others.

He had to subdue them through overwhelming strength.

What I want is not the position of Young Clan Lord.

Therefore—

I will wield the sword as Clan Lord.

Fwooouuuu—

A clear, azure energy shimmered around Cheongun.

Like heat haze rising from the ground, the qi soon condensed tightly around him. The gathered energy now shone an even deeper blue than before.

In that instant, the mouths of those who had been watching with mild disinterest fell open before they realized.

“Th–That’s Sword Qi...?!”

“Transcendent Peak...!”

In the dense silence, laced with shock and tension—

Cheongun moved.