The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 81

"You really...."

"That's enough, Elder."

Seop Mugwang once again stepped in front of Namgoong Mugang, briefly glancing at Seolhwa.

He was blocking him on the Patriarch’s orders, but he, too, was shocked by what Seolhwa had said.

‘Dismantling a sword art isn't something that can be done with mere keen eyes and talent. It demands real swordsmanship as well.’

And that wasn't all.

To dismantle a sword art, you had to understand it perfectly.

Not just vaguely know it — you had to master it completely, to the point of near-perfection, to even begin finding its flaws.

‘And the brat managed to do that?’

The girl’s cultivation was at the Peak Realm.

The real issue was that she had only been at Namgoong for a short time.

‘The Patriarch might have taught her martial arts during their sessions in the training hall... but it's been, what, ten days at most? Could anyone possibly master a sword art and even create a Counter-Destroying Sword in that short time?’

Was such a thing truly possible?

And for a mere thirteen-year-old?

‘There must be something only Brother Mucheon knows.’

The brat was hiding a lot — and some of those secrets were clearly dangerous.

If Namgoong Mucheon himself was willing to conceal them, it was no trivial matter.

‘The more I think about it, the more curious I get.’

Part of him, like Namgoong Mugang, wanted to demand answers right away.

But Seop Mugwang swallowed his frustration.

"...There are too many eyes watching. Return to your seat, Elder. Like the brat said, you should sober up if you want to watch the rest of the sparring properly."

"I was going to, you damn fool. Now move your sword."

Grumbling until the end, Namgoong Mugang stumbled back to his seat.

Though belatedly, with the arrival of the Martial Academy Hall Master, the entire clan was now present at the Heavenly Martial Festival.

The festival resumed.

As Seolhwa had said, during the sparring matches among the Outer Courtyard warriors, four different fighters used the Counter-Destroying Sword to claim victory.

Each time, Seolhwa could feel Namgoong Mugang’s gaze stabbing into her like a blade.

But it wasn't only Namgoong Mugang.

Now that everyone knew the technique was a Counter-Destroying Sword, all eyes were focused on Seolhwa.

Namgoong Mucheon included.

‘Tch.’

‘I had hoped she would personally demonstrate overwhelming power... but instead, the Outer Courtyard warriors are showing off the Counter-Destroying Sword?’

Repeated shocks, however, dulled over time.

Sure enough, by the time the fourth warrior unleashed the Counter-Destroying Sword, the crowd’s reaction was noticeably lukewarm compared to the first.

And that wasn’t the only problem.

As time passed, public opinion was starting to turn against her.

“She just returned to Namgoong, and already she's crafting sword arts that deny our traditions? Could it be that she returned with ulterior motives?”

“I heard rumors that she was once associated not with a trading house, but a dark sect. If that's true, we can't dismiss the possibility.”

“It's absurd enough that she invented a Counter-Destroying Sword, but to claim it so proudly herself... what is she thinking? Perhaps it's just childish immaturity.”

Hearing the murmuring elders whispering among themselves, Namgoong Mucheon’s face darkened.

Because the Counter-Destroying Sword had been revealed prematurely, the tide of opinion was turning unfavorably.

On top of the persistent rumors about Seolhwa being a courtesan, now there were even claims that she intended to stand against the Namgoong Clan.

‘If, in this situation, Seolhwa were to personally display the Counter-Destroying Sword...’

Rather than quelling the rumors, it would only fan the flames further.

Namgoong Mucheon cast a worried gaze toward Seolhwa.

But whether she noticed or not, Seolhwa’s expression as she watched the duels remained utterly serene, unchanged from before.

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****

The sparring among the Outer Courtyard warriors finally ended.

Although the matches were over, the atmosphere remained tense.

The crowd loudly chatted about the fights, but their real focus was elsewhere:

on the Counter-Destroying Sword — and on Seolhwa, the girl who claimed to have created it.

Still, no one dared mention her directly.

Everyone knew that Namgoong Mucheon had personally silenced Namgoong Mugang, the Martial Academy Hall Master.

No one was foolish enough to speak carelessly now.

"We shall now begin the Sword Divisions’ sparring! The matches will be free-form. Those who wish to display their skills, come to the stage!"

Thus began the sparring among the Inner Courtyard warriors.

As soon as the captain of the Black Dragon Corps announced the start, a warrior from the Black Dragon Third Division immediately {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} raised his hand.

Following him, a warrior from the Yellow Dragon Third Division climbed up onto the sparring stage, and the two began their duel.

Clang— Cha-chang— Clang!

Seolhwa watched their fierce clash and mused silently:

‘It seems that opponents usually step forward to match fighters of similar standing.’

Although the Inner Courtyard sparring had a free atmosphere, there were unspoken rules.

‘If a member of the Third Division steps up, another member from a Third Division responds.’

If it was the Fifth, then the Fifth.

If it was the Eighth, then the Eighth.

When a fighter from one division called out his affiliation and ascended the stage, another from a division of similar strength would answer.

After all, they couldn’t afford to show themselves being utterly crushed in front of the entire clan.

It was an unwritten rule they all understood.

‘This is basically a sparring performance.’

The Heavenly Martial Festival was meant to display martial prowess to the clan.

But unlike the life-or-death duels of the Outer Courtyard warriors, these Inner Courtyard matches were little more than a lively, festive exhibition.

The divisions cheered on their own warriors, while some of the elders and councilors sipped their wine and traded idle conversation, using the energy of the festival as a backdrop.

There was hardly any real tension.

‘It's about time.’

The mood of the Heavenly Martial Festival had fully ripened when it happened.

"I am Namgoong Gaksu of the Red Dragon Eighth Division!"

A warrior from the Red Dragon Division loudly announced his affiliation and name, then strode up onto the stage.

‘He’s here.’

As if she had been waiting, Seolhwa spoke through sound transmission.

Startled, Ilryong — who had been yawning while watching the matches — looked over at her.

The eldest of the Outer Courtyard’s three brothers, he had been sitting quietly in the shade with Imoe and Sambong.

He had clearly been itching to step onto the stage for some time, but had restrained himself out of respect for his promise to Seolhwa.

Ilryong’s gaze wavered slightly.

He sprang to his feet and shouted toward the sparring arena.

"Ilryong of the Red Dragon Sixteenth Squad humbly reports to the Patriarch!"

His voice cut through the noisy sparring arena like a blade.

Instantly, a heavy silence fell over the arena, and every eye turned to Ilryong.

"What is it?"

Namgoong Mucheon’s voice echoed through the stillness.

Just hearing the Patriarch personally respond to him made Ilryong’s lips dry up.

Still, he forced himself to shout:

"If the Patriarch permits, I wish to participate in this sparring match!"

The arena rippled with shock.

"Isn’t he an Outer Courtyard warrior? An Outer Courtyard warrior challenging an Inner Courtyard fighter?"

"And not just that — it’s one Red Dragon against another. The Sixteenth Squad challenging the Eighth Division!"

"Is he insane? Is he so desperate to humiliate himself in front of the entire clan?"

Standing at the center of the growing commotion, Ilryong broke into a nervous sweat.

‘Damn it. What the hell am I even doing.’

In truth, this was all Seolhwa’s idea.

When she’d first asked him to investigate the Sword Division leaders, she had offered double the pay, and he had agreed without hesitation.

‘If I’d known it was going to be something like this, I would’ve demanded the money up front.’

When he protested afterward, saying he didn’t want to go through with it, she had coldly told him he would have to pay her back tenfold.

When he argued that it was absurd, she looked ready to unleash a killing intent so thick it could suffocate a man on the spot — leaving him no choice but to obey.

‘I’m supposed to be living quietly, and now I’m stuck doing this damn nonsense. Shit.’

If it weren’t for the suffocating burden of loyalty—or debt—he never would have agreed.

Ilryong could only sweat and silently pray that the Patriarch would reject his petition.

Sure, it would be embarrassing, but at least it would be over.

But Namgoong Mucheon’s answer shattered that fragile hope.

"I permit it."

Just a short phrase — but it rang clearly through every corner of the arena.

"!"

Damn it. I’m doomed.

Silence, as cold as ice water, washed over the crowd.

In that oppressive stillness, Ilryong stiffly forced his body to move and trudged toward the sparring stage.

The Red Dragon Eighth Division warrior, who had been standing on stage waiting for a proper opponent, glared at him with undisguised hostility.

‘What the hell is this clown?’

The way Ilryong sauntered onto the stage with a casual, almost lazy gait made it painfully obvious he hadn’t even properly dressed for the clan’s official event.

It was disgraceful.

To make matters worse, Ilryong didn’t show the slightest sign of remorse for putting everyone in this awkward position — on the contrary, his face looked openly annoyed, as if he’d been dragged into something bothersome.

Even the way he scratched his ear irritably was offensive.

“Tch.”

Namgoong Gaksu clicked his tongue and deliberately straightened his stance, adjusting his uniform with precision.

He wanted to make it clear: he was nothing like that shabby delinquent.

‘I was planning to take it easy, win or lose.’

Normally, it would have been fine to go through the motions — win or lose, the match would just be part of the performance.

But now, he absolutely could not afford to lose.

If he lost here, it would not simply be a personal defeat — it would be a humiliation for the Inner Courtyard warriors as a whole.

‘All because of this damn Outer Courtyard fool...’

Namgoong Gaksu ground his teeth in frustration.

The two warriors stood on the stage, facing each other with equally sour expressions.