The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 86

As the child’s sword energy began to rise, the expressions of the clan members shifted from shock to outright disbelief.

They were watching it happen—yet not a single one of them could accept it.

“Peak Realm...!”

“That... That child is in the Peak Realm?!”

The Peak Realm—where most of the clan’s elders and division heads resided.

A realm they had only managed to reach through decades of tireless effort, clawing their way toward influence within the family.

And yet a thirteen-year-old child—was already there?

Aside from Namgoong Mucheon, Seop Mugwang, and Cheongun, who already knew, the rest of the family could only gape with jaws slack, unable to look away.

They stared at the girl encircled in sword energy, her blade raised.

And then she performed the initiation form.

The clan reeled once more.

“That’s... the Heavenly Wind Sword Art!”

Formed from skyborne energy and Namgoong’s signature rising momentum, it was a sword art that embodied the very essence of what Namgoong stood for.

Not among the clan’s highest-level techniques, yet it could only be learned after mastering the Grand Vast Sword Art.

— Red Dragon Commander... What is the meaning of this? How does that child know a Namgoong sword technique?

Yun Solran turned to the Red Dragon Division commander, sending a private transmission.

But the commander looked no less bewildered.

— I did not teach her.

— Then how does she know it?!

— I... don’t know...

And Peak Realm—Namgoong Seolhwa’s cultivation was in the Peak Realm.

What have I done...?

The Red Dragon Commander suddenly realized something had gone terribly wrong. But the moment of realization had come far too late.

From within the deep crimson aura, Seolhwa opened her eyes.

Her sword began to move, fluid and silent.

Carrying the breath of heaven, her sword emerged like a dragon rising from the depths—noble and unshaken.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form One: Emergence of the Sleeping Dragon

Within the red-tinted glow, Seolhwa recalled memories from her previous life.

That day beneath the blood-red sky—when the Blood Demon Cult and Namgoong Clan bled more than any other.

The heavens dyed crimson above Hefei, and blood rain scattered like a storm.

Namgoong elders charged to the front lines, the Council Masters drew their blades despite age, and division commanders laid down their lives to defend the family.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Two: Four Winds Stirring the Dragons

The people of Namgoong raised their swords not for power, but to protect each other.

They stood against merciless slaughter.

That’s who you were, the Namgoong I once knew.

Such was the Namgoong she had witnessed in her past life.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Three: Azure Dragon in Storm and Cloud

Outer Courtyard warriors became shields for anyone with even a sliver of strength.

Inner Courtyard fighters leapt into the blaze so their comrades’ sacrifices would not be in vain.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Four: Dragon’s Ascending Leap

Even the powerless servants picked up their stone bows and stood against the whirlwind of blood.

The elderly, hiding children beneath straw mats, drew the attention of Blood Demon Cultists with their own lives.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Five: Flowing Flight of the Dragon

In that endless war with the Blood Demon Cult, not a single soul among them brought shame to the clan.

They fought with every breath, never retreating without cause.

No wound, no agony, not even death itself could make them tremble.

Even as the world drowned in screams and blood—

That day, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) I never once saw Namgoong retreat.

Like a sword dance, her movements flowed—graceful, but never light. Her blade traced the breath of a Heavenly Dragon.

Before such seamless continuity, not a single gaze could turn away.

From the child’s sword, a solemn righteousness radiated. It pierced their sight and rang like a bell within their minds.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Six: Crimson Dragon with the Iron Spear

Her aura surged ever stronger.

The dragon she summoned with each stroke soared closer to its peak.

And the story she told, through blade alone, flooded the martial stage with desperate truth.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Seven: Yellow Dragon’s Protective Circle

You have not forgotten—

You’ve merely chosen to forget.

The sword you once pursued. The spirit you once upheld. The Namgoong you once were.

Namgoong never broke.

Even when black clouds blotted the sky, they were still sky.

Even when the heavens wept blood, it was still the heavens.

Ah... heaven...

Heaven!

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Eight: Dragon Riding Heaven and Earth

The heavens so many Namgoong once cried out for—those heavens were mournful.

In her past life, she had thought it a pointless wail. That no matter how much they pleaded, the sky would never answer.

Only in death had she realized the truth.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Nine: Roar of the Old Dragon

The heavens they cried to at the end were not gods, not fate, but the indomitable spirit of Namgoong itself.

A defiant song, proclaiming that though their bodies fell, their will never did.

Heaven!

Namgoong stood proud before the heavens. Upright. Unbent.

Heaven!

Namgoong remained unsullied.

This is the Namgoong you died to protect.

And this—this is the path we must now walk.

At last, Seolhwa’s sword began to draw the final stroke of the Heavenly Wind Sword Art.

Her presence split the sky, shook the world, and roared to the entire clan.

With the Red Dragon leading and the Yellow Dragon guarding her flank—

The Heavenly Dragon soared.

Heavenly Wind Sword Art – Form Ten: [Final Technique to be revealed]

Reverse-Heaven Mad Dragon!

A violent gust swept across the entire martial arena as though the heavens themselves were overturned. It was like witnessing a dragon’s ascension.

The crimson aura flared so brightly it was nearly blinding. It whirled across the arena before surging upward toward the heavens.

Whoooosh...

The red energy gradually subsided, and silence fell like a curtain over the stage and its surroundings.

No one could speak easily.

No—no one could stop speaking easily.

That silence carried with it a current of awe too great to suppress.

Anyone who had ever studied the Namgoong sword would know instantly—the spirit infused in Seolhwa’s blade was not a performance. It was not mockery. It was not a child’s stunt.

It was the raw truth—an unbearable vision shown by someone who had seen the future to those still trapped in the past.

It was the long-forgotten soul of Namgoong, now resurrected.

And Seolhwa’s sword had stirred the hearts of all who watched.

It made them remember. The first moment they gripped a sword. The first time they learned Namgoong swordsmanship. The vow they made then.

Someone, overcome, shed quiet tears.

“Ah... Heaven... This is heaven...”

The child had shown them the sky.

So brilliant it brought tears to the eyes—a sky that was clear beyond words.

“...Haa...”

All Seop Mugwang could do was exhale a shaken breath.

He had expected much from her blade.

He knew she would show something extraordinary. But what he saw... had gone beyond all expectation.

He looked down at his own hand.

His fingertips were trembling with the aftershock of that ecstatic thrill.

To think I’d feel this again...

The same feeling he’d once experienced watching Namgoong Mucheon wield the sword of the Heavenly Dragon—the very sword that bound him to this clan.

And now, to feel it again, from the sword of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Damn brat...

A crooked, helpless smile pulled at his lips.

In the hush where even breath felt out of place, Seolhwa, panting faintly, lifted her gaze once more to the front.

“....”

Namgoong Mucheon, who had gripped the armrest of his chair so hard it might’ve splintered, met her eyes.

Grandfather.

As though he heard her unspoken call, Namgoong Mucheon rose to his feet.

Every gaze in the arena turned instinctively toward the Clan Lord.

“I have a question for Namgoong Seolhwa.”

His voice, low but unwavering, rang across the entire martial arena.

“Why did you wear that outfit onto the martial stage?”

Seolhwa looked down at her clothing. The fabric that brushed her fingers was soft.

“I wanted to show you something.”

Her voice was calm. Calm like the stillness after a storm.

“No matter what clothes I wear, no matter where I was raised, or what life I’ve lived... I am a child of Namgoong.”

Just like that, what she wore no longer mattered to anyone.

No one criticized her garments.

She had made it perfectly clear—what mattered was not how she dressed, but what she carried.

And she had shown it masterfully.

Namgoong Mucheon did not hold back a smile.

“I am well aware of the absurd rumors that have recently circulated about my granddaughter. The reason I have allowed them to continue unaddressed... is because Seolhwa asked to prove herself.”

He turned to face the rest of the clan. His gaze had grown weighty, now tinged with solemn anger.

“If your eyes are properly fixed in your skulls, you would have seen it—the aura of the azure heavens within Seolhwa’s sword.”

He reproached the clan, who had been so eager to chatter, yet so unwilling to discern the truth.

“From this day forward, if I hear a single word more of those baseless rumors—whoever it is, I will punish them without mercy!”

The clan responded in unison.

Just as Namgoong Mucheon opened his mouth to speak further—

“But that’s impossible!”

A voice rang out like a scream from the edge of the main platform.

The sudden outburst shattered the solemn air, and those who had been waiting for the Clan Lord’s words turned with clear irritation toward the one who had spoken.

It was Namgoong Soryong—Namgoong Cheonghae’s eldest son.

“Soryong...!”

Namgoong Cheonghae moved quickly to silence his son, but Soryong raised his hand first, pointing directly at Seolhwa as he shouted.

“She never learned those sword forms! I saw it clearly! The Red Dragon Commander only taught her the Three Essence Sword Forms, nothing else!”