Black and White Martial Emperor

Yeon Hojeong swept his eyes over the first floor of the tavern.

As expected, no one else was inside. So this was why only this place felt so empty—someone had cleared it out.

“Hm.”

There were signs of life from the kitchen. No internal strength on them—just a cook and a few runners.

Tang Yangseon twitched his lips.

“What? Surprised?”

Of course.

The killing will that pinned Tang Yangseon in the banquet hall had been real. Any decent ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) master who got a faceful of that would normally feel fear.

And yet this bastard had waited for him here in the tavern.

At the very least, the man’s mental grit deserved acknowledgment. He almost wished the Azure Hawk rankers could take notes.

“Looks like one arm wasn’t enough.”

“W-what?”

Color flared scarlet across Tang Yangseon’s face.

Ignoring him cleanly, Yeon Hojeong headed for the kitchen.

“Excuse me.”

“Gasp— y-yes, sir!”

The cook and the runners were shaking in a corner of the kitchen.

Yeon Hojeong produced ten silver from his robe.

“Water, and food for about thirty men. Anything quick.”

“...S-sir?”

“Keep the change.”

A sharp bellow ripped across the room.

“Hey! You son of a bitch!”

Yeon Hojeong looked back at Tang Yangseon.

Crack!

Kicking the table aside, he stood, fury boiling. A vicious miasma billowed over his whole body.

“A piece of trash like you dares ignore me?”

Yeon Hojeong asked, “Where’d you drive everyone off to?”

Tang Yangseon spat.

“How would I know, mud-grub?”

He’d sensed it back at the banquet, but it was certain now—Tang Yangseon’s temperament had problems.

He looked down on everyone but himself. He thought their very station in life was beneath him.

Even for the first son of one of the most prestigious clans under heaven, this was excessive. You had to wonder if his parents had set out to raise him into a vicious little tyrant.

“Then again.”

They were a clan of poisons and hidden weapons. A merciless hand leaves a deep mark on one’s mind. And he’d lived like a crown prince even in such a house—hardly inexplicable, then.

“So? You came for revenge?”

“Revenge? Don’t make me laugh, trash. This isn’t revenge—this is an execution.”

An execution?

Vmmm.

Tang Yangseon’s eyes flushed purple. He had whipped the Three Yang Skill up to its extreme.

“Whatever sorcery you pulled last time won’t work now. I’ll keep you screaming for three days and nights before you die.”

Yeon Hojeong let out a thin laugh.

The heir of a clan ranked among the Seven Great Clans was announcing he would kill him—not because he could bear the consequences, but simply because his mood was foul.

Blood welled in the whites of Tang Yangseon’s eyes.

“You’re laughing? At me?”

“Because you’re small.”

“Y-you bastard!”

Yeon Hojeong glanced back toward the kitchen. The cook and runners were still trembling.

“You didn’t take the order?”

How could they dare cook? The infamous Tang heir was right there.

Yeon Hojeong sighed.

“Looks like I need to clean up first.”

The trembling Tang Yangseon suddenly gave a cold, thin smile.

“Brain-dead idiot.”

Yeon Hojeong rolled his shoulders without a word. Not perfect, but the muscle spasms had settled.

Vvvvvmm.

A thicker reek of venom rose from Tang Yangseon’s body.

“You’re already poisoned, idiot.”

“Poisoned?”

“I dispersed Factory-Shade Toxin. Trash like you won’t even—”

Thud!

Tang Yangseon’s mouth flew open.

Yeon Hojeong was already inside his guard, and drove a fist into his abdomen.

The blow was explosive, pure release of force. It landed so deep his knuckles buried to the wrist in Tang Yangseon’s gut.

“Guwaaaah!”

Tang Yangseon collapsed on the spot and vomited a handful of blood.

And it didn’t end there. With one strike his viscera were injured. If he hadn’t eased off at the last instant, Tang Yangseon’s large and small intestines would have torn strand by strand. He’d have died riding the true agony of severed bowels.

Not that this wasn’t agony enough.

“Hrk—! Aaaagh!”

Clutching his belly, Tang Yangseon writhed across the floor.

It was pain his internal strength couldn’t restrain. Not aimed to kill—aimed to inflict pain, thoroughly and precisely.

Even as he thrashed, half-mad with it, Tang Yangseon couldn’t smother his bewilderment.

Why?!

Factory-Shade Toxin was colorless and odorless. By itself it did little.

The Three Yang Skill.

The instant his raging Three Yang Qi’s toxic miasma mingled with it, Factory-Shade Toxin locked the target into a state of uncontrollable collapse. Yet despite taking a full face of Three Yang Toxic Qi, his opponent was fine.

Why—how?!

Crack!

Tang Yangseon’s eyes bulged.

“Gyaaaah!”

The right arm he’d splinted snapped again. Yeon Hojeong had stamped it and broke it anew.

Cruel work.

At that moment, frantic movement erupted from the tavern’s third floor.

“S-stop there!”

Whoosh!

Dropping to the first floor came Han Homyeong, Poison Dragon Iron Whip, and one squad of the Red Spider Unit—the escort assigned to guard Tang Yangseon.

Because Tang Yangseon had insisted on handling it alone, they’d hidden at the very top floor. The dispersed Factory-Shade Toxin had given them a sliver of peace of mind.

But for the fight to be decided in a single exchange—

Han Homyeong shouted, “Protect the Young Master—now!”

Press.

Yeon Hojeong set his heel on Tang Yangseon’s throat.

In an instant Tang Yangseon’s neck mottled blue-black. On top of blinding pain, he couldn’t breathe.

No—breath wasn’t the problem. A little more pressure and his neck would break. He would die at once.

Han Homyeong and the Red Spider men went deathly pale.

Yeon Hojeong pointed at Han Homyeong.

“You.”

“...?!”

“Come here.”

Han Homyeong shook uncontrollably.

A cool blue light gathered in Yeon Hojeong’s pupils.

Press.

“Grrrk.”

Tang Yangseon’s eyes rolled white. He was a breath from death by asphyxiation.

“S-stop! I’ll come! I’m coming, just stop!”

Yeon Hojeong eased the pressure. Tang Yangseon hacked ragged breaths.

Taut with nerves, Han Homyeong stepped up to Yeon Hojeong.

For a heartbeat, a strong temptation clawed at him. At one-pace distance, if he launched a surprise attack, he might pry Tang Yangseon free—

Yeon Hojeong held out his hand.

“Don’t get ideas. Hand over that thick iron whip on your belt.”

“...?!”

He gave him no time to think.

Thud! Crack!

“Guh!”

Tang Yangseon’s right leg broke.

Han Homyeong’s face went ashen-black.

“I’ll give it! I’ll give it!”

He hurriedly offered up the whip—tempered iron inlaid with sharp segments.

The moment the iron whip settled in his palm, Yeon Hojeong snapped out a single punch.

Boom!

“Khk!”

Han Homyeong shot backward into the Red Spider ranks.

A lightning-quick straight, a flawless ambush. However skilled Han Homyeong was, in this situation it was hard to block.

The Red Spider men caught their captain in a clumsy tangle.

And in that instant, Yeon Hojeong moved.

Chrrrrring!

The whip unraveled in his hand, shedding a skin-prickling metallic cry.

“W-what is that?”

“Careful!”

All but the three Red Spider men holding Han Homyeong jammed hands into their robes—to draw hidden weapons.

Killing will flashed in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-THWACK!

The floor and walls bloomed with obscene splashes of blood.

There weren’t even screams. The iron whip turned into a living viper, coiling and lashing the Red Spider men to the ground without mercy.

Gasp.

Han Homyeong’s eyes went saucer-wide.

Whip—swoosh! Thud! Crunch!

The whip’s movement defied imagination.

He couldn’t even guess what patterns were being used. He couldn’t tell if these were formal techniques or anything at all. All he perceived were dozens of iron segments writhing midair.

Whooosh!

The entire squad coughed blood and collapsed.

The cramped space left no room to dodge. But that only made it more astounding.

Handling such a perverse weapon as the iron whip inside a tight room—calibrating it perfectly to drop a squad—was something even Han Homyeong couldn’t do.

What am I even looking at?!

Yeon Hojeong’s whip work had reached a terrifying realm. No—this wasn’t standard whip work. It was similar, but far more ruthless.

I—impossible!

Whatever the martial art, before this sublime lethality, you could only stare blankly. To fell the Red Spider Unit before they could even draw a single hidden weapon?

A weapon-craft raised to divine skill. Yet Yeon Hojeong frowned, dissatisfied.

Would’ve been better if it were a chain.

What he could wield with the greatest confidence were the axe and the chain. He’d lashed a chain to an axe-head to break lines, and he’d wiped out whole enemy units with a single length of iron chain more than once.

I should pick up an iron chain later.

Having rendered nearly twenty foes combat-incapable in the blink of an eye, Yeon Hojeong tossed the whip aside like junk.

Murderous heat flickered in Han Homyeong’s eyes.

His own weapon had butchered his men. As if that weren’t galling enough, the man had thrown it away like something unclean to touch.

“You cur!”

Boom!

Han Homyeong’s palm slashed toward Yeon Hojeong’s back. At this point, the fact that the opponent was a scion of the Yeon Clan no longer mattered.

Just then, Yeon Hojeong seized Tang Yangseon by the ankle.

Wham!

Tang Yangseon’s eyes flew wide. Han Homyeong’s face went corpse-blue.

Han Homyeong’s palm had landed square on Tang Yangseon’s lumbar spine.

Cr-r-rk.

“Gyaaaah!”

Tang Yangseon crumpled where he lay.

A crack ran through the lumbar vertebrae. Lucky it hadn’t fully broken? If it wasn’t treated quickly, he’d spend his life in a chair.

Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue.

“Not enough that you flattened your own men, you were about to cripple your master? Then again, after slaving under a bastard like this, I suppose the bile piles up.”

“...!!”

“I do hope Clan Lord Tang favors you even after he sees their wounds. You must’ve had a rough go of it.”

Han Homyeong’s face went blank.

Half out of his mind, Tang Yangseon mumbled, “W-why would you do this to me...?”

Thud!

Yeon Hojeong’s kick put him out. Unconscious.

Han Homyeong was no different—not that Yeon Hojeong needed to knock him out. The man’s wits had already fled.

Yeon Hojeong crouched in front of him.

“Do you want to live?”

“...!”

“I’ll tell you how. First, answer my question.”

Vacant-eyed, Han Homyeong stared up at him.

“When you think it through, it’s strange. Unless you or your master have wandered the Central Plains your whole lives, how would you know we’d take this road? It’s quite a stretch from Hefei.”

“...?!”

“Did you hire some miraculous informant? Not easy, that. Not impossible if you truly tried—but as that idiot said, it’s only been two days.”

“T-that’s...!”

“Let’s not make this difficult.”

Killing will tightened in Yeon Hojeong’s gaze.

“Who told you we were heading here?”

****

“—Gasp! First Young Master?”

“What?”

“Y-your clothes. Blood...?”

“Oh, this? Nothing. Don’t mind it—take these instead. It’s a lot. Ah, our Second Young Master—out cold already.”

Hard not to mind.

Shin Mo’s eyes turned grim.

“Was it Namgung?”

He’d belatedly learned why the First Young Master had blown the business up so large yesterday. If someone set men on them, the odds pointed to Namgung Hyun again.

Yeon Hojeong gave a thin smile.

“You can stop worrying about that now.”

For a moment, a chill ran through Shin Mo.

“Don’t tell me...”

“Hey. As if I’d kill him. I’d rather leave him a cripple.”

Isn’t that worse?

Yeon Hojeong glanced back at the tavern.

“Sometimes the tongue is scarier than the blade.”