The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 77

Seolhwa gazed calmly at the Red Dragon Division Leader, who stared back at her in shock.

The expression of utter disbelief on his face, as if he had never expected her arrival, was deeply satisfying.

"I-it’s... Namgoong Seolhwa?"

"You should be addressing me properly. How dare you."

Seolhwa’s eyes gleamed with a murderous glint beneath the shadows.

A thick, suffocating killing intent rose like smoke, coiling around the Red Dragon Division Leader’s neck like a serpent.

His legs gave out, and he stumbled backward without realizing it, collapsing with a thud against the wall behind him.

“W-what... what brings you here...?”

"You’ve been up to some rather amusing things, haven’t you?"

Seolhwa approached him at a slow, unhurried pace.

The closer she drew, the heavier her murderous aura pressed down on his throat, until the Division Leader began to gasp for breath.

In desperation, he reached out and shouted.

"I-is it about the Eleventh Unit of the Red Dragon Division? I-it was unavoidable! The members causing armed conflict within the clan... It wasn’t a formal spar! Such disorder needed to be punished properly to maintain discipline...!"

Seolhwa’s lips curved into a cold, mocking smile.

"Do you truly think I came here over something so trivial?"

At this hour. In secret, no less.

As Seolhwa stepped fully out of the shadows, the red energy radiating from her body thickened, swirling around her like a mirage.

She began reciting the crimes the Outer Courtyard brothers had uncovered about him.

"Extorting merchants traveling through Hefei by colluding with the Black Dao sects, admitting those Black Dao scoundrels into the Namgoong ranks, and accepting bribes to manipulate evaluations of the Division members."

“...!”

"There’s more, of course. Shall I go on?"

"I-I don't know anything about that!"

"For someone so ignorant, you wear fear rather poorly."

Seolhwa seized the man’s chin and lifted it, forcing him to meet her gaze.

His eyes trembled wildly, like a candle flickering in a storm.

"W-what... what do you want from me...?"

"What I want... Let’s see..."

If she had to say, what she desired was fear. But that was something she had sought during her time in the Blood Demon Cult.

"You’ll have to figure that out yourself."

Here, in Namgoong, there were more fitting methods.

"Red Dragon Division Leader. Namgoong Suhak. Cousin to Namgoong Jangyang, Red Dragon Corps Commander. Jangyang is my twelfth cousin. So you and I..."

Seolhwa shrugged lightly.

"...are practically strangers, aren't we?"

With that, Seolhwa deepened her murderous intent even further.

The Division ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Leader’s teeth chattered uncontrollably. Though he was a captain of the Outer Hall’s armed forces, he had never once experienced such overwhelming, suffocating killing intent.

"If I were to kill you right here... who would even remember you?"

He had merely lorded over his subordinates as their superior. The Outer Hall forces never even undertook truly dangerous missions.

Logically, it was absurd to think that a Namgoong young lady could kill so freely—but terror had already frozen his ability to reason.

"P-please... s-spare me...."

"Oh, I can spare you. After all, we share the same surname."

Seolhwa pressed her foot firmly against his ankle.

"But you know," she added,

Applying more pressure with her foot, she watched as the man’s face turned deathly pale.

"Ah, no—!"

Seolhwa struck his acupoint.

Tears streamed from the Division Leader’s fear-stricken eyes.

"After all the wings you’ve clipped, you shouldn’t weep over a broken ankle."

Seolhwa’s lips curled into a chilling smile.

“...!”

****

"Young Lady!"

The morning was filled with commotion—not by Yeoyul, but by Ryeong.

Today marked the first round of selections for the Inner Hall forces.

Having finished her solitary dawn training in the personal martial arena instead of sparring with her unit, Seolhwa was dressing herself when she turned toward the door.

There was a noisy scuffle outside, and then Ryeong’s excited voice rang out.

"Young Lady! It's been lifted! They've lifted the restriction—you can enter the selection match!"

Her voice brimmed with emotion.

Seolhwa, calmly arranging her collar, smiled faintly.

The Heavenly Martial Festival had begun.

****

Clang—!

Namgoong Jihyung’s forehead bulged with veins.

"Grhhhhh...."

He pushed forward with his sword, forcing a look of panic onto his opponent’s face.

The opponent’s gaze flickered between Jihyung’s face and his legs in disbelief.

'W-what kind of monstrous strength is this?!'

There wasn’t a single Red Dragon Division member who didn’t know what the Eleventh Unit was.

They were strong in martial prowess, yes, but stagnant—trapped without powerful backers, unable to climb further.

Some tried several times to rise higher, but when they hit the invisible wall, they left Namgoong altogether. That was the purpose of the Eleventh Unit: a proving ground for the discarded.

Among them, Namgoong Jihyung had been particularly notorious—a man whose martial skills had rotted beyond use. Many Division Leaders had despaired over how he refused to leave even after realizing his stagnation.

'And I heard he hadn’t even been training properly recently...!'

This promotion wasn’t just important for himself, but also for the merchant guild backing him, desperate to forge ties with the Namgoong Clan.

He had spent a fortune on this opportunity!

This time, promotion was supposed to be guaranteed!

He had even consumed precious elixirs for this moment!

'And yet I'm being pushed back? My strength...?'

The sword was slipping from his grasp. He could no longer withstand Namgoong Jihyung’s pressure.

'This can’t go on!'

Crunch—!

Desperately, the Twelfth Unit member stomped down on Jihyung’s foot. But—

"One hundred catties! One hundred catties! One hundred catties! One hundred catties! A total of four hundred catties!"

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“...?”

What... is he babbling about?

"I endured four hundred catties of weight—

You think a little foot trick like yours will stop me?!"

Thud.

The strength Namgoong Jihyung had built to withstand four hundred catties surged into his legs.

In that instant, the Twelfth Unit member thought his opponent’s body had turned into a solid rock.

And then—

"Uwaaaagh!"

"Uwaaaah!"

Bwoooosh—!

The Twelfth Unit member’s body was flung through the air.

It wasn’t just a stumble—he was launched by the combined force of Jihyung’s sword push and the stomp breaking free of his foot.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

He rolled helplessly across the sparring ground, his body thumping against the earth.

Writhing from the impact, the man let out a groan of pure agony.

"Haa... haah... ha...."

Namgoong Jihyung, steadying his breath as he watched the wheezing Twelfth Unit member, felt a sudden, electrifying sensation rise within him.

'...I won.'

And not just won—he had crushed his opponent.

Though he had claimed victory before in preliminary matches, never had it been this overwhelming, this effortless. His head buzzed with dizzying exhilaration.

This triumph, this feeling...

'It was so easy!'

It was as if all the years of grueling training had finally been rewarded in a single moment.

Unable to hold back the surge of emotion, Jihyung was about to let out a victorious roar—

When—

"Namgoong Jihyung. Disqualified."

“...!”

The judgment struck his ears like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.

Frozen mid-motion, fists clenched and raised in triumph, Jihyung stared blankly at the judges’ platform.

In that instant, he felt it—the crushing realization that his victory was slipping through his fingers once again.

"Namgoong Jihyung of the Red Dragon Eleventh Unit. Was it a contest of swordplay you were commanded to display—or brute strength?"

The Red Dragon Division Leader’s voice dripped with mockery.

The disdainful expressions of the five other judges came into sharp focus before Jihyung’s eyes.

"When, exactly, do you plan on showing us proper swordsmanship? Haven’t you lingered in the Eleventh Unit long enough?"

"Keh, no wonder your face looked familiar. Isn’t this what they call ‘beggar’s tenacity’?"

"Calling it ‘beggar’s tenacity’ seems a bit harsh. He’s just... trying his best, poor fool. Though he does seem rather thickheaded."

The judges chuckled amongst themselves, their words cutting deep into Jihyung’s chest like knives.

The one who laughed the hardest was none other than the Division Leader of Jihyung’s own Red Dragon Division.

Bandaged thickly around one leg, he wore the most despicable smirk imaginable as he looked down on Jihyung.

'Even if it’s Namgoong Seolhwa backing you, inside this sparring ground, her influence means nothing.'

He had reluctantly lifted the disciplinary restriction on the Eleventh Unit after Seolhwa’s coercion, but he had no intention of letting her easily plant her people in the Inner Hall.

'If some worthless nobody were to ascend, how would I explain myself to him?'

Falling from that man’s favor would mean far worse than a broken leg.

It would mean disgrace, ruin, even a secret death to silence the one who knew too many secrets.

'I have to survive, no matter what.'

Thus, the Red Dragon Division Leader had changed the first-round selections to private matches, limiting entry to only five Division Leaders and the two duelists.

Even the direct descendants of Namgoong would find it difficult to intervene in a sealed match.

'Unless the Patriarch himself arrives, what happens here will be decided by our hands!'

"Know your place!" one of the Division Leaders sneered.

"Though, I suppose... it does take some people longer to realize it. Persistent fools, clinging to what they’ll never achieve! Ha!"

Each word of their jeering conversation stabbed deeper into Jihyung’s heart.

Yes, perhaps he had won by sheer strength in the end.

But he had wielded his sword.

And wasn’t this sparring match meant to measure strength, not merely finesse?

'Again.'

Jihyung’s grip on his sword tightened until veins bulged across his hands.

This time, he had given everything—had trained until he coughed blood, had faced his opponent without fear—and still, still, the outcome was the same.

'I truly... cannot...'

Even though Seolhwa had intervened, using her influence to lift his disqualification, the result remained unchanged.

He felt only bitter guilt toward the young lady who had quietly supported him, who had allowed him to stand here today.

'This time, for real... I’ll leave Namgoong.'

There was no longer any reason to remain.

At that moment—

Clap, clap, clap—

A slow, deliberate applause echoed across the arena.

Namgoong Jihyung, the Division Leaders, and even the fallen Twelfth Unit member instinctively turned toward the sound.

'Who...? No one else should have been able to enter.'

Even the Red Dragon Division Leader, sensing something ominous, whipped his head around.

"A remarkable talent hidden within the Outer Courtyard."

All at once, every Division Leader bolted to their feet and offered a respectful martial salute.

"We pay our respects to the Patriarch!"