I'm A Minor Villain In A Martial Arts Novel (38 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 5

I tightly gripped the short sword.

Then, after a moment, I turned to Yun Ling with a resolved expression and asked,

“Yun Ling, can you take responsibility for your words?”

“Responsibility?”

“For saying that I’ve been skipping training and being lazy.”

Yun Ling nodded at my words.

“Of course I can, Miss. That’s just the kind of person you are.”

She looked utterly confident.

There was a basic expression Yun Ling always wore when looking at me—

a dismissive gaze that seemed to say, “What are you going to do about it?”

‘She must be absolutely sure I can’t use martial arts.’

I spoke to Yun Ling.

“Yes, don’t forget your words—the part about taking responsibility.”

After uttering those words, I turned to look at the others. Facing their hostile stares, I opened my mouth.

“I know the Changgong Sword Art.”

My words instantly silenced the noisy crowd. Some looked at me with disbelief in their eyes.

Nangong Xianzong shouted, his face flushed with anger,

“You have no talent! You’ve never properly learned the sword. How could you possibly know the Changgong Sword Art?”

Grandfather cut off Nangong Xianzong.

“Enough!”

“Father, but she’s lying right now—trying to hide her laziness…”

“I’ll make the judgment.”

At Grandfather’s calm words, Nangong Xianzong fell silent.

Grandfather’s gaze turned toward me.

“You claim to know the Changgong Sword Art?”

“Yes. Please give me a chance to clear my name.”

Uncle Dagger’s voice whispered in my ear.

[It’s not just that she knows it—she can demonstrate it more perfectly than anyone else here.]

Uncle Dagger’s voice sounded oddly excited.

“So, you intend to wield a sword with that body of yours?”

I looked at Grandfather with a strange expression—because his words sounded as if he were worried about me.

Yet no one else here had shown any concern for my condition.

I shook my head.

‘That can’t be it.’

Grandfather’s eyes were utterly dry—completely devoid of any expression resembling care.

[Well… I suppose I got carried away for a moment. It’s been so long since I’ve had a physical form that I forgot what state you’re truly in.]

Uncle Dagger’s suddenly dejected voice echoed in my ear.

As Grandfather said, my physical condition was at its worst. Yet I couldn’t just do nothing.

If I did nothing simply because I wasn’t feeling well, people would only gossip more loudly.

“I can do it. Please let me try.”

After holding my gaze for a moment, Grandfather wordlessly handed me a wooden sword from the corner of the room.

I accepted the wooden sword he offered. Immediately, everyone’s eyes turned toward me.

“What kind of arrogance is this? Lying right in front of the clan head?”

“I heard she’s never once attended training—how does she plan to show the Changgong Sword Art?”

“I had high hopes because she’s Xian’s daughter, but she’s always disappointing us.”

I could hear the onlookers chattering.

These were the people Nangong Xianzong had brought specifically to humiliate me—

to show everyone just how pathetic I appeared before them.

I looked at Grandfather standing before me.

He wore a deep frown, as if something greatly displeased him.

‘As expected—he’s not satisfied with me.’

I’d heard that my father was Grandfather’s most cherished son.

Nangong Xian.

The one everyone believed would become the greatest under heaven.

Everyone in the Nangong Clan loved him.

Unlike me—an insignificant extra—he was frequently mentioned even in the Heavenly Demon Sovereign’s records.

The Nangong Clan’s most brilliant genius.

Had he lived, he might have become the future greatest under heaven.

[I also grew up hearing those same words.]

Uncle Dagger’s voice was very low—a solemn tone I’d never heard from him before.

[People always tried to judge me, even though they were far less capable. In the end, showing your strength always silences them.]

‘But I truly can’t do anything.’

[No, you can. You’ve only had your chance stolen.]

At that moment,

a man’s figure appeared before my eyes.

A youth? Or perhaps middle-aged?

His long hair hung loose, radiating an ominous aura.

He carried an uncanny presence that made his age impossible to guess.

‘He’s really handsome.’

The long-haired man bowed his head before me.

I glanced around.

It seemed no one else noticed the man who had suddenly appeared.

I realized it was Uncle Dagger.

[Then, excuse me.]

The moment he finished speaking, I quietly raised my sword.

But it wasn’t by my own will.

Uncle Dagger was the one moving my body. As soon as I lifted the sword, I saw the others’ expressions shift.

A flicker of interest appeared in their eyes.

[Show those fools what potential they’ve been trying to steal from you.]

Uncle Dagger continued,

[You don’t need to overcomplicate swordsmanship.]

Whoosh—the wooden sword moved at a speed my body could never produce alone. With every motion, the onlookers’ expressions changed rapidly. Most amusing of all was Nangong Xianzong’s face.

He stared at me, mouth agape, as if his soul had left his body.

Though I didn’t fully understand it, what I was performing was unmistakably the Changgong Sword Art. From my small, confined room, I’d always watched my cousins with envy,

as they learned the very same Changgong Sword Art I was now displaying.

‘But this is different from the sword art my cousins performed.’

[Anyone with true yearning for the sword should have the right to learn it.]

I felt my heart pounding.

Their Changgong Sword Art had seemed impressive, but what flowed from my body now was on another level entirely.

It carried a depth I couldn’t even comprehend myself.

If even someone as inexperienced as me could sense it, the martial artists gathered here surely recognized it too—

that my swordsmanship was unnervingly perfect.

When my sword finally traced its last stroke, silence filled the room. The first to regain his senses was Nangong Xianzong.

He stared at me, face filled with disbelief, and shouted,

“You—this is impossible…!”

Betrayal filled his eyes.

“How could you possibly know the Changgong Sword Art? You clearly had no talent—how can you perform it so perfectly, as if I’m looking at Xian himself…?”

Nangong Xianzong’s words were incoherent. He kept muttering as if dazed, then quickly moved toward me, reaching for my shoulders.

“What trickery is this?!”

But his hand never reached me.

“How disgraceful, Xianzong.”

Grandfather seized Nangong Xianzong’s arm. Hearing Grandfather’s words, Xianzong’s face turned deathly pale.

[Hah! Serves you right!]

Uncle Dagger’s gleeful shout also rang in my ears.

I, too, felt pleased.

But pleasure aside, I had truly reached my limit now.

I’d stood up immediately after fainting from fever, then used strength far beyond what I could bear.

The world began spinning.

No sooner had I risen than I collapsed again. The last thing I saw before falling was Grandfather’s startled face.

[This is the timeline separator]

Those were words Yun Ling had once said to me.

Yun Ling had been the one who hindered my martial arts training the most.

She always looked at me as if I were pitiful—her eyes saying, “If I were born as you, I’d never live like this.”

She shook her head as she spoke. Yun Ling claimed Grandfather had cast me aside.

She whispered that his eight-year absence wasn’t just due to busyness—he couldn’t bear to look at me.

Though I never told Yun Ling, in my past life I’d faced a similar situation.

Maybe that’s why.

Truthfully, her words didn’t hurt me much.

My mental age was higher than other kids’, and I was used to people like Yun Ling around me.

‘Does fate really exist? Why is my life always like this?’

Even in my past life, I hadn’t been surrounded by good people.

Yun Ling clicked her tongue as she said it.

Frustrated, she shouted at me,

Yun Ling.

I’d already tried that before.

I’d once strived hard to be loved. But if love requires effort to earn, is it really love?

It wasn’t something I needed to say to Yun Ling.

My vision flipped.

I was no longer in the wuxia world of Heavenly Demon Sovereign.

Instead, I lay in a cramped studio apartment—nowhere to rest my body or mind in peace.

My room in the modern world.

‘I really hate this.’

It was a nightmare I often had—the moment I was first abandoned in that tiny studio.

My father placed ten thousand-won bills into my hand—ten of them.

An absurdly small amount compared to his wealth.

Standing beside him was my younger half-sister.

She gave me a pitying look, then took Father’s hand and left.