Black and White Martial Emperor

TWAAANG!

“Hff.”

The draw weight of Red Lotus Bow was downright monstrous. Mookbi couldn’t even imagine what it had been made from.

I can’t just brute-force the draw.

With her current reserves of inner force, she could use Red Lotus Bow to fire Nine Dragons Heaven-Breaking Bow—excluding secret techniques—about seventy times.

But Mookbi knew the truth: the only reason she could fire it “only” seventy times was because her control over her inner force was lacking.

She needed far more delicate control. If she achieved that, the strength required to pull the string would drop, and the number of shots would rise.

“Ugh, my arms are getting sorer by the minute.”

Just then, a deep voice spoke.

“You’re working hard.”

“Ghk!”

Startled, Mookbi spun around. Yeon Wi was standing there.

“F-Father?”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t slept? I heard you were out all night.”

“It’s fine. A single sleepless night is nothing.”

“Ah... yes.”

Mookbi’s expression turned awkward immediately.

She respected Yeon Wi as an elder. He treated her kindly, and she knew that kindness came from the heart.

She still found him frightening.

His expressionless face resembled the cold looks her brothers had once given her. Even knowing the feelings behind it were different, the similarity in expression made her shrink back.

Yeon Wi walked up to her.

“As I’ve seen before, that’s no ordinary bow. The tension on the string is beyond imagination.”

“...Yes.”

“Hold out your left arm.”

“Sir?”

“...”

“A-ah, yes!”

Mookbi abruptly thrust out her left arm.

Yeon Wi took her forearm and drew up his inner force.

WOOOOOM.

A beautiful light-green glow flickered up and down her entire left arm. It was a qi that calmed the heart just to look at.

Mookbi’s eyes widened.

The muscles in her left arm, which had been clenched rock-tight, loosened in an instant. It felt so good she nearly blurted Oh, that’s nice out loud without thinking.

Of course, she didn’t make that kind of mistake in front of Yeon Wi.

“The strength you hold is a great mountain, yet you’re not using even a third of it. Your efficiency in handling qi is far worse than that.”

“Kh—! Y-yes, sir...”

“If you can unleash all the power sleeping inside you, and come to regulate your true qi freely, you’ll surpass even me.”

Mookbi jolted.

“P-please don’t say things like that, Father. I would never...”

With a hint of puzzlement, Yeon Wi asked,

“Why not? If you mean to live as a martial artist, shouldn’t you be aiming to surpass me?”

“...!”

“I would like to see you and Hojeong go beyond me, rise to the realm of the Thirteen of Celestial Ascension, and leave your footprints on the world.”

For a moment, Mookbi felt a lump rise in her throat. His tone carried no rise or fall, but anyone could tell those words were sincere.

“Fortunately, your talent is exceptional, your fundamentals are superb, and the power you harbor could easily overturn mountains and seas. If you don’t neglect your efforts, you’ll surpass me someday.”

“...Yes.”

Yeon Wi studied her for a moment, then nodded.

“Today, I’ll examine your martial arts with you. With just a few adjustments, you could become something very different from before.”

“Gasp! R-really?”

“The Clan Lord of the Yeon Clan is the one saying so. You can believe it.”

“Thank you!”

Yeon Wi liked Mookbi’s straightforward nature.

His eldest son floated to mind. He knew the boy treated Mookbi like a friend, but seeing this disposition, he would have preferred her as a daughter-in-law rather than merely as his son’s companion.

But such things were not decided by human will alone. Yeon Wi had no intention of trying to defy the laws of cause and effect spun out by the flow of human affairs.

I wonder how Hojeong is doing.

Yeon Wi turned his gaze northwest.

Toward where Tamlang Pavilion of the Mo Yong Clan stood.

What are you planning, Hojeong?

*****

Mo Yonggun thought,

I’ve been underestimating this brat.

Meng Yi had learned Shooting-the-Sun Sword Art?

That ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) wasn’t the important part. The truly important part was that he’d been far too casual about the man he was facing.

He knew Yeon Hojeong was very much a monster.

He’d just thought of him as a genius who was clever, greedy, and highly capable in stratagems—not as someone who would go this far off the rails.

He’d heard Meng Yi was locked away in the dungeon. On top of that, the man was “pretty broken.”

The fact he came back alive at all was astonishing. But captured alive on top of it?

That meant he’d been taken and tortured without hesitation.

This kid isn’t White Path.

A small difference—but one small difference could shake the whole political order.

If he deems it necessary, this brat will do anything, no matter how horrifying.

He’d thought they were alike.

He’d been wrong. This brat wasn’t of the same breed as he was.

Mo Yonggun knew his own limits very clearly. That was why he used subordinates to carry out the truly vicious tasks, and why he had no choice but to devote so much effort to recruiting talent.

Yeon Hojeong didn’t work that way. He didn’t have to.

This brat was prepared to do all of that by himself.

“Run the abacus, he says... huh.”

Looking absently at Yeon Hojeong, Mo Yonggun rose to his feet.

“I’d like to verify something.”

“What, exactly?”

Mo Yonggun gave a faint smile.

“Whether I can entrust you with command of an Independent Field Force that stands free of Alliance Law. I want to see your skill with my own eyes.”

Yeon Hojeong frowned.

“You’re asking for a spar?”

“That’s right.”

“Where’d the abacus go?”

“When you bring a stake that big to the table, there’s no point in clicking beads first or later.”

“Mm?”

“Let’s just trade a few light blows. Hardly worth calling a ‘formal duel.’”

Hmm...

After looking up at Mo Yonggun for a moment, Yeon Hojeong rose with a smile.

“A chance to cross hands with the famed Mo Yong Clan Lord? I’ve no reason to refuse.”

“Heh.”

Whatever he was planning, it was still a kind of study. Yeon Hojeong had no intention of letting this opportunity slip away.

So the two men left Tamlang Pavilion.

He had thought they’d trade blows lightly in the rear garden, but that wasn’t it. Mo Yonggun led Yeon Hojeong to the central inner courtyard, a plaza vast enough to serve as a proper training ground.

“Let’s do it here.”

Yeon Hojeong glanced around.

Quite a few people were coming and going, and more than a few were looking their way. With two men as famous as they were, most onlookers simply stared openly.

“No axe?”

“I left it at my quarters.”

“Heh. Somehow I doubt your skill drops that much just because you’re not holding your axe.”

SSSRRK.

Left hand clasped behind his back, right hand extended at mid-level guard, Mo Yonggun said,

“Go on, then. Come at me.”

Yeon Hojeong looked around once more.

People would only multiply. A duel between the Mo Yong Clan Lord and the eldest son of the Yeon Clan of Green Mountain—what better entertainment could anyone ask for?

A crooked grin touched his lips.

What a slippery old snake.

Now he understood what Mo Yonggun wanted.

But he didn’t mind. He was on the verge of getting what he wanted; this much concession he could afford. In a way, it benefitted him too.

SLIDE.

Yeon Hojeong lowered his stance.

Mo Yonggun’s smile deepened.

“Your center of gravity is low. Very stable.”

“I’m coming.”

“Come.”

THUD!

Yeon Hojeong took a single step.

At the same time, Mo Yonggun’s eyes changed. In that solitary step, he could feel the crushing dominance radiating from Yeon Hojeong.

BOOOM!

That one step felt like it could bring down mountains, yet his footwork as he instantly closed the distance had the bearing of a gentleman.

There was no mistaking it for anything but the Yeon Clan’s body method. Swift to an extreme, yet utterly stable. Even on the verge of gasping for air, it wouldn’t crumble. The spirit of a scholar who refused to bend.

WHOOOOSH!

Racing in with terrifying speed, Yeon Hojeong suddenly slipped into the right blind spot.

Fast.

Faster than his own body method. Movements that far outstripped ordinary human reflexes.

His fist traced a wide arc as it swung.

VWOOOOSH!

Mo Yonggun’s hand moved like a lightning strike.

SMACK!

It looked like he hadn’t infused any qi at all, yet sparks jumped from his fingertips as they slapped the fist aside.

Yeon Hojeong’s movements grew even faster.

RATATATAT!

In the span of a heartbeat, he stamped the ground several times, driving forward. His twin fists whipped out, summoning white vortices in the air.

It was the fist form of White Tiger Martial Art, Beast-King Nine Thunder Stances.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

With terrifying force, the barrage of fists poured in—but Mo Yonggun fended off every single strike with just his right hand. His martial art was almost unbelievable even while watching it.

His speed wasn’t remarkable, but he read the flow and parried. A hand technique several times harder than any art that relied on brute strength and elasticity.

SMACK!

Yeon Hojeong lashed up a kick toward Mo Yonggun’s chin.

It was a fluid yet powerful kicking form, and in the midst of it, his sense for the most vulnerable point—the momentary opening—was frighteningly sharp.

FWOOOSH!

His foot tore through empty air.

Mo Yonggun had meant to simply evade the kick and press down softly, but in the same moment, his eyes flashed at the killing intent that dropped toward the crown of his head.

KWAANG!

Yeon Hojeong’s heel slammed down, shaking the earth.

The blow was so powerful that his heel drove five inches into the bluestone floor.

“Interesting body technique.”

Mo Yonggun had slipped left, his posture identical to where he’d started.

“You realized your high kick had failed and instantly turned it into a stomp... Leaving aside those lightning reflexes, that level of control and flexibility is hard to find anywhere under heaven.”

WOOOOOM.

A clear, sky-blue true qi rose around Mo Yonggun’s right hand, like a cloudless sky.

“My turn.”

WHOOSH!

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

He knew the man would charge straight in, but he still reacted late. One smooth step—then somehow he was right in front of him. It was footwork at its absolute peak.

RATATATAT!

Yeon Hojeong’s fists and palms erupted with the force of a beast king, while Mo Yonggun’s right palm carried the upright spirit of green bamboo.

BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!

To use White Tiger Martial Art as a chained technique, you needed explosive strength and tireless stamina at once. Naturally, its power was beyond measurement.

And yet, Mo Yonggun blocked that destructive fist art entirely with exquisite hand technique. A skill worthy of being called divine.

BOOOM! SSSSHRRRIP!

With a thunderous roar, Yeon Hojeong’s body skidded back three, four steps.

As expected, he’s strong.

Though he wasn’t holding a sword, Mo Yonggun was treating him seriously.

This was the power of a Clan Lord of the Six Great Clans. Yeon Hojeong had grown to the point that even when Mo Yonggun struck in earnest, he could weather the hit without taking serious damage.

“Impressive.”

FLAP.

Mo Yonggun lifted his right arm.

The sleeve was ragged, shredded and torn open by the pressure of Yeon Hojeong’s fists.

“To break through my martial art with bare fists alone—no wonder they call you the Green Mountain Tiger General.”

Yeon Hojeong pressed a hand to his chest.

His clothes were ripped in a spiral from his solar plexus outward, exposing hard pectorals and abdominal muscles beneath.

He looked around again.

MURMUR...

At some point, dozens of martial artists had gathered to watch the two of them. Their faces were flushed with excitement after the brief but exhilarating clash.

Yeon Hojeong brought his fists together in salute.

“I concede.”

Smiling, Mo Yonggun said,

“In ten years, you’ll be able to overawe the world. I’m truly impressed.”

His voice was clear enough for everyone to hear. The onlookers were shocked by his high praise and turned to look at Yeon Hojeong with renewed eyes.

Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue softly.

“What a shame.”

“What is?”

“If I’d known we’d be going at it here, I would’ve brought my axe.”

Mo Yonggun let out a brief chuckle.

Sure enough, the brat understood exactly why he’d insisted on sparring here.

“If you’d brought out your true power, it would’ve stripped away your mystique.”

“That too, I suppose.”

“If you want to gamble, you bring cards. You don’t try to cow the table with the size of your stake.”

“Until I saw your reaction, I didn’t even know whether it was a ‘card’ or a ‘stake,’ you know.”

“What? Hahaha!”

Mo Yonggun roared with laughter.

To those who didn’t know, their conversation could only sound like talk about martial arts. The onlookers could only marvel at Yeon Hojeong’s boldness and Mo Yonggun’s relaxed handling of it.

Still chuckling, Mo Yonggun nodded.

“Let’s do as you say, then.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

“You’re not planning to slather it with sauce, are you?”

“I prefer my food clean and simple. I’d like you to as well.”

He was saying: kill Meng Yi or send him far away—finish it properly.

Yeon Hojeong didn’t take those words lightly. If he kept Meng Yi under his thumb to the very end, Mo Yonggun would eventually cross the line.

That was not what he wanted.

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Hah, good.”

Hands clasped behind his back, Mo Yonggun turned toward Tamlang Pavilion.

“I won’t add any sauce. But understand if I throw in a few side vegetables.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes glinted.

He meant to attach a few of his own people to the Independent Field Force.

“I can be picky about what I eat.”

“Don’t worry. They’re not vegetables I raised.”

“So it depends on my taste, then.”

“Exactly.”

“Fine.”

With his back still turned, Mo Yonggun waved a hand.

“Don’t forget. This is only the beginning.”

Yeon Hojeong answered with a relaxed smile.

“I’d prefer this to be the end. Sincerely.”