The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 60

Twenty years ago, when Namgoong Mucheon and Nomoen were still wandering the martial world, building their reputations—

Nomoen had once challenged Namgoong Mucheon.

Part of it was arrogance—pride in being an elite swordsman from a prestigious orthodox sect.

And part of it was just annoyance—he couldn’t stand those martial heirs swaggering around under the name of one of the great clans.

So when he heard the target was a young lord of the Namgoong Clan, he thought he’d take the opportunity to teach him what a sword really was.

“Justice, righteousness, courtesy, compassion—yeah right.”

He got wrecked.

Beaten to a pulp like dirt flying in the rain.

Namgoong Mucheon beat him like a dog, ranting the whole time about “those arrogant sect bastards” like he was trying to fix the entire sect system through sheer violence.

Whoever those bastards were, Nomoen had wanted to find and kill them—just to make the beating stop.

From that day on, he never went near the Namgoong Clan again.

“I heard he mellowed out after getting older and becoming clan head!”

He believed that. That’s why he came!

“...Please, Senior Namgoong, calm your anger. I was merely testing the Namgoong child’s martial skills—they were so extraordinary, I was curious, that’s all...”

“Who the hell is your senior?”

“...Sword Emperor, I meant...”

“...”

“...Honorable Sword Emperor.”

“Pathetic bastard.”

Namgoong Mucheon clicked his tongue.

His gaze shifted toward the two younger disciples from Mount Hua standing at the edge of the arena.

One of them was clearly stricken with fear. But the other—

“Ho...”

Still scared, but sharp. Ready to lunge the moment a single hair on his senior’s head was touched.

Reckless, with his claws fully bared. But the spirit wasn’t bad.

A tiger ought to show its claws, after all.

“You’re old enough now to drag around some disciples of your own, huh?”

“...One is a personal disciple, the other a formal student. As you say, I’ve aged a bit myself... So I’d ask Senior Namgoong to show a little leniency for my dignity...”

“Disciple, huh.”

That cheeky brat was his student?

“You’ve raised a good one.”

Namgoong Mucheon turned his indifferent gaze to Seolhwa.

Her eyes met his—calm, unflinching.

—What would you have me do? Want me to break an arm or leg?

Seolhwa looked at Yu Gang, then at Nomoen, and replied,

—There’s a Mount Hua disciple here. No need to disgrace their sect’s honor in front of everyone.

—So?

—Just forgive him. Once.

She had released her energy, but never revealed any killing intent.

That was why she’d dared face Nomoen without fear.

And that was why she chose to forgive him.

“Hahahahaha!”

Namgoong Mucheon burst into a hearty laugh, and all three of the Mount Hua delegation flinched in unison.

He looked toward Nomoen.

“You’re alive thanks to my granddaughter’s noble character. Don’t you forget it.”

His eyes flashed.

Nomoen quickly bowed his head.

“...Yes. I won’t forget it.”

After Namgoong Mucheon’s arrival, the situation wrapped up swiftly.

Nomoen, who had hoped to intimidate and snatch the elixir, ended up leaving with nothing, tail tucked firmly between his legs.

The internal sentiment in Namgoong, which had leaned toward diplomatic exchange with Mount Hua, evaporated instantly.

Elders and heads of houses loudly demanded reparations for Mount Hua’s insult.

“They’ve looked down on Namgoong! I don’t care how prestigious a sect they are—this arrogance is inexcusable!”

“Exactly! If Clan Head hadn’t come out of seclusion early, that man looked ready to massacre all of us!”

“Bah. He calls himself one of the Ten Great Masters? That ‘Plum Blossom Divine Sword’ title is wasted on him. Tch.”

Even the movement to question Mucheon about the Bone Cleansing ritual dissipated.

After all, thanks to Namgoong Mucheon, damage had been minimized.

“What will you do, Clan Head?”

Chief Steward Namgoong Mun turned to ask.

All the previously outraged clan members now fell silent, waiting on Mucheon’s word.

Namgoong Mucheon, still seated with eyes closed, slowly raised his head and swept his gaze around the chamber.

His eyes lingered on his two sons.

“Cheonghae.”

“Yes, Clan Head.”

“I heard you tried to establish ties with Mount Hua.”

“...Yes.”

That had been before Nomoen’s arrogance revealed itself—but until then, he had even been trying to locate the elixir on Mount Hua’s behalf.

The elders’ council had known about that as well. But now, its head coughed awkwardly and avoided eye contact.

Cheonghae caught the gesture and bowed his head toward Mucheon.

“It was my poor judgment.”

“And what exactly did you judge wrong?”

Cheonghae couldn’t answer.

Had it not been for Nomoen’s behavior, an alliance with Mount Hua might have genuinely benefited the Namgoong Clan.

If there was one mistake—

“It’s that I didn’t expect the Plum Blossom Divine Sword to act so recklessly.”

And # Nоvеlight # he was an elder, no less.

“Cheongun.”

“Yes, Father.”

“What’s your opinion?”

Every eye turned to Cheongun.

While Cheonghae had been running about trying to make the alliance happen, Cheongun had done... nothing.

He’d been too busy doting on his daughter to lift a finger. No one expected much from him now.

A short silence passed.

Then Cheongun slowly spoke.

“I don’t understand why Namgoong would ever need Mount Hua’s name in the first place.”

“...!”

A flicker of light passed through Namgoong Mucheon’s previously stern gaze.

“Go on.”

“Is the Namgoong Clan such a weak household that we must rely on Mount Hua’s strength? I don’t believe so.”

Cheongun lifted his eyes and slowly swept his gaze across the heads of houses and elders.

“For eight years, I wandered the world away from the clan, and during that time, I felt firsthand the power of Namgoong’s name. Just speaking it made bandits step aside, and rogue cultivators lower their weapons.”

No one in the criminal underworld wanted to provoke a prestigious and powerful clan like Namgoong.

“Some say Namgoong’s strength comes from the Clan Head. But I don’t believe that’s the case.”

Namgoong Cheongun looked to Namgoong Mucheon.

“Namgoong is not weak. Mount Hua may be called the greatest sword sect in Zhongyuan, but I don’t think we need to bow our heads just to build a friendly relationship.”

The corners of Namgoong Mucheon’s mouth curled slightly.

Satisfaction was written all over his face.

“You speak true.”

He nodded, acknowledging Cheongun’s words.

“What makes Namgoong strong is power. That is not something obtained through the hands of others—nor through relations with sects or noble families.”

He clenched his fist. Just that motion caused a wave of force to ripple violently around him.

“Today’s events are not Mount Hua’s fault. If you must blame something—blame your own weakness. Blame your failure to wield the power to protect the clan.”

Had there been even ten masters at the Peak Realm or higher, Nomoen would never have dared act as he did today.

But because the elders had neglected their training, content to linger at the Peak Realm, they had allowed this situation to unfold.

“Did you want Mount Hua’s power? Did you want to raise the clan’s name? Are you filled with outrage and frustration over what happened today?”

Namgoong Mucheon’s voice rang through the Celestial Tiger Pavilion—quiet, yet resounding.

“If so, then build power.”

His words struck directly at the hearts of the household heads and elders.

“Strengthen yourselves, and prove Namgoong’s might. Before blaming others, look to yourselves.”

It was both a rebuke—

—and a rallying cry from someone who had already walked that path.

“When you gain a power that no one can challenge, the world’s attention will naturally gather around you. When you gain the strength to rule the world, any force will bow their heads before you on their own.”

“Make Namgoong into such a clan.”

Everyone gathered in the Celestial Tiger Pavilion stood frozen in tension.

No, it was more than that—there was a kind of awe.

The fading flame of a warrior’s spirit flared once more in their hearts.

Their pride, dulled by long peace, had been reawakened.

Namgoong Mucheon nodded with satisfaction as he watched the room fill with taut energy.

“The Celestial Martial Rite will be worth watching.”

The Celestial Martial Rite—Namgoong’s grandest internal martial arts event—was now just ten days away.

****

Late into the night.

Amid deep silence, someone knocked on Nomoen’s door.

“Enter.”

Knowing who it was already, Nomoen spoke without hesitation, and the door opened.

“Disciple Yu Gang greets Master.”

Nomoen nodded to acknowledge the bow.

“What brings you at this hour?”

“There is something I cannot make sense of, Master. I know it’s late, but I came anyway.”

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“Ask.”

Yu Gang lifted his eyes to meet Nomoen’s directly.

“It’s about the Great Return Pill.”

“...”

“I was never told anything about it. If I may be so bold... did we come to Namgoong for the sake of reclaiming the Great Return Pill?”

“Yes.”

Yu Gang swallowed dryly.

“Then... may I ask why Mount Hua is trying to retrieve an elixir that belongs to Shaolin?”

“You may not. That’s not something you need to know.”

“I understand.”

Yu Gang asked no further.

He hadn’t expected to learn everything just by coming here.

“Then I have another question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why... did you have me duel Lady Namgoong?”

Yu Gang raised his eyes again, meeting Nomoen’s gaze directly.

“When you knew full well... I couldn’t match her...”

Nomoen’s expression remained as calm and still as ever.

“You knew, didn’t you, Master?”