The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 54

Shraaak—

Seolhwa’s sword sliced through the last of the demonic monkey beasts.

Truthfully, this fight had been the monkeys’ inevitable defeat from the very beginning.

Whether by desire (Wŏn, 願) or resentment (Wŏn, 怨), Seolhwa’s will far surpassed that of such creatures.

“...That was the last of them.”

Shaking the monkey beast’s blood from his blade, Namgoong Cheongun let out a long breath.

He and Seolhwa were both soaked in the creatures’ blood.

“After going this far, I really am curious what exactly the Celestial Bow Turtle Head is.”

What kind of object could possibly be guarded by monsters like these?

“Shall we go?”

“Right.”

The two of them stepped deeper into the forest, in the direction from which the monkeys had poured out.

It looked far more dangerous the farther in they went, but they had come too far to turn back now.

Cheongun didn’t sheathe his sword. His internal energy was still sharp and alert.

Moving with constant tension, the two stopped at a certain point.

Namgoong Cheongun’s face stiffened.

“This is...”

“...”

Corpses—or rather, white bones.

Hundreds of skeletal remains were piled high in a pit.

Each skull was shattered, as if crushed by a blunt weapon. The arms and legs of every skeleton were still bound with rusted, crumpled bells.

They were simply travelers who had fallen victim to the demonic monkeys.

“How could this be... How could mere beasts...”

How could anything be this evil?

How could anything be this cruel... this monstrous?

Namgoong Cheongun couldn’t finish his sentence.

Because all of it—every last bit—was something done by people. Done to lowly beasts considered beneath notice.

Cheongun slowly closed his eyes.

Who was to blame for this sin?

He had always believed he could clearly distinguish good from evil. But now, all he felt was confusion.

“We should bring people here and collect their remains. Give them a proper burial.”

Seolhwa only nodded.

“Let’s go, Father.”

“...Yes.”

The two of them stepped over the pit of bones, moving deeper into the forest, climbing toward higher ground.

The sun, already leaning toward the center of the sky, was now slipping behind the mountaintops.

Eventually, they reached a broad summit and came to a halt.

“Hoo...”

Though the peak wasn’t especially high, the wide mountaintop was completely shrouded in clouds, so dense the ground couldn’t even be seen.

It truly felt as if they were standing atop the clouds themselves.

“This is where the Celestial Bow Turtle Head is?”

Beyond the clouds and over the cliffs, they could see the lower peaks of Mount Huang.

There were tall peaks rising in the distance, bare mountains with no trees, and others lush and green with dense forest.

Each mountain had a different face.

Seolhwa looked down at them, then turned her eyes to Namgoong Cheongun.

It was a breathtaking view—yet Cheongun’s expression was clouded with sorrow.

“What are you thinking about?”

Cheongun looked at her. A faint smile forced its way through his shadowed face.

“I was thinking... how beautiful it is.”

Seolhwa looked at that sad smile and spoke softly.

“Grandfather told me... about what happened eight years ago. About how you lost me.”

That forced smile vanished almost instantly.

“I always wondered why I left the Namgoong Clan.”

Had someone kidnapped her?

Had she wandered off on her own and gotten lost?

Had someone who held a grudge against her family attacked?

Had an accident separated her from her parents?

...Had she been abandoned?

“...Seolhwa. Back then—”

“Please. I want to hear it. From you.”

The child spoke.

The child he couldn’t protect eight years ago... was asking him now.

Not with blame, not with resentment. Just quiet curiosity.

“What happened eight years ago?”

The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.

His fingertips trembled faintly.

Namgoong Cheongun recalled that day from eight years ago.

****

Clang—clang! Clang-clang!

“Aaaaagh!”

“P-please! Spare me!”

The clash of blades and weapons. The screams of people.

Soon, Hwangryong Branch Master, who had gone ahead to scout, returned in haste.

“There’s fighting up ahead. It looks like bandits are attacking a merchant caravan. What are your orders, Young Master?”

Cheongun lifted the curtain on the side of the carriage and glanced in the direction of the noise.

“Aaaagh!!”

The scream sounded like someone’s very soul being torn apart.

Cheongun frowned.

“Go handle it.”

He turned away from the window and looked inside the carriage—where his wife sat with him.

In her arms, a child as pale as snow rested, asleep like a piece of delicate rice cake.

“Mmm...”

The child stirred and rubbed her face against her mother’s chest, fussing slightly.

The commotion outside must’ve disturbed her sleep.

The woman gently cradled the baby closer, looking down at her lovingly as she said,

“Seolhwa’s asleep, so there’s no one to stop you. You want to help, don’t you? Go ahead.”

“There could be more of them. That may not be the whole group.”

“They’ve already attacked the merchants ahead ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ of us. The ones left behind are probably just scraps. Besides, we have Branch Master Hwangryong with us—it’ll be fine.”

“But still...”

“Go on.”

The woman urged Cheongun with a smile like a blooming flower.

Knowing well her husband’s nature—unable to stand by in the face of injustice—she gently pushed him forward.

“Then I’ll go. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Come back safely.”

Leaving behind his wife and daughter, Cheongun stepped out of the carriage.

He entrusted his family to the Hwangryong Branch Master, who had accompanied them, and quickly headed toward the sound of screams.

Shraaak—

“Gahk!”

“Urgh!”

The bandits—no better than second-rate fighters—were no match for Cheongun.

In a flash, he subdued them and rescued the caravan.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“We’ll never forget Namgoong’s grace!”

The merchants, tears streaming down their faces, expressed their gratitude to Cheongun for saving their lives.

When they tried to offer him gifts from their cargo, he firmly declined and turned back.

He hurried back to where his wife and daughter were waiting.

Just as he’d promised, he returned quickly. But—

Thud.

“...!”

What greeted Cheongun was the shattered wreck of the carriage and the stench of blood.

The members of the Hwangryong escort unit, who had been guarding his family, were now lifeless corpses sprawled across the ground. The broken debris was soaked red in their pooled blood.

But nowhere—nowhere—could he see his wife or daughter.

“Hwangryong Branch Master!”

The only one still clinging to life was the branch master himself.

Even he was barely holding on.

“Y-Young Master... hurry...”

With trembling fingers, he pointed to a direction.

And then, his hand dropped.

He had saved his final breath just to pass on that message.

There was no time for Cheongun to grieve. Without hesitation, he ran in the direction the man had pointed.

He passed trees, tore through brush.

He ran—only forward.

Please... please...

Let me not be too late. Let her be alive.

If she’s still alive, no matter the cost—no matter what it takes—I’ll save her.

Please...

And finally, the forest began to open up.

Through the trees, he saw the silhouettes of several people. They were masked figures, dressed in black.

Cheongun’s grip on his sword tightened.

The distance between him and them closed rapidly.

Three jang.

Two jang.

One jang—

At last, just as Cheongun raised his sword to strike—

“Aaaaah!”

At the sound of a flower being torn, Cheongun’s heart sank like a stone.

Shraaak—

“Aaaagh!”

Blood sprayed as one of the masked men fell.

The others all turned toward Cheongun at once.

And in that moment, he saw it.

A smirk on the face of one of the masked men.

The hem of a lotus-petal-like garment vanishing over the cliff’s edge.

“Daddy! Daaaddy! Waaaaaah—!”

The cry of a child plummeting fast.

Slash—slash!

His eyes were locked on that single image as Cheongun swung his sword.

“Retreat!”

One of the masked men shouted to his companions.

But Cheongun didn’t hear that voice.

A sharp ringing echoed in his head, drowning out all else.

As the masked men abandoned their assault and carried off their fallen, Cheongun moved forward.

He swung his sword, cutting down all in his path.

And when he finally reached the edge of the cliff—when there was nothing left there—

Clang—

Cheongun dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees.

Eeeeeeee—

The world narrowed into a single line. All sound drifted far, far away.

A single drop of sweat, tinged red with blood, slipped silently from his jaw.

The drop fell endlessly.

Before it could even be swept away by the raging river below, Cheongun’s body gave out.

It was the scream of a man whose world had crumbled.

****

“If I hadn’t left the carriage that day... you and your mother would still be alive.”

His tears disappeared into the clouds.

“If I hadn’t let my foolish sense of chivalry take over... you wouldn’t have suffered for eight years...”

The Namgoong Clan had mobilized every member of the inner and outer divisions to scour the cliffside and the river below.

Several days later, they recovered the body of his wife.

But they never found the body of the child.

“What happened that day... it was my fault alone. My negligence. My arrogance. My inadequacy...”

Shrring—

The sound of a sword being drawn.

Cheongun turned his wavering gaze toward the source of the sound.

Seolhwa was holding her sword.

And the blade was pointed directly at him.