Black and White Martial Emperor

“You’re here.”

“Yes.”

“Will you have a cup of tea?”

“Heh-heh, let’s.”

After a moment, Mo Yonggun and Mo Yong-woo sat across a table.

Once tea had wetted their throats, Mo Yonggun asked:

“How is the Heaven-and-Earth One Hundred and Eight Sword Solutions?”

“Difficult.”

Mo Yonggun smiled as if he knew everything.

“It is the greatest sword study in which the Mo Yong Clan’s centuries of history are condensed. I’ve been practicing it close to twenty years, and there’s still further to reach.”

“I understand now that the sword formulas are inexhaustible.”

“Well seen. Orientation, sword force, speed, skill—no matter how you peel it, the end never shows.”

“Thank you again.”

“Heh-heh, there’s no need for such stiff thanks between brothers.”

It was a curious line.

Mo Yonggun surely meant it sincerely, but it was something he could say only because Mo Yong-woo had said he would follow him. Had Mo Yong-woo clung to Zhejiang to the end, they likely would never have seen each other again for the rest of their lives.

This is better.

For days, Mo Yonggun had visited Mo Yong-woo to talk of this and that. As if finally giving overdue affection, he showed consideration for Mo Yong-woo.

But Mo Yong-woo knew. Mo Yonggun’s favor applied only to those within his own boundary.

I knew it—yet for a while I let myself be intoxicated.

Brotherly affection had deepened—or so Mo Yonggun would think, and Mo Yong-woo agreed to a point.

Yet whenever he heard a line tinged with this sort of dissonance, he was reminded:

Elder Brother is dangerous.

A resolve that had wavered only minutely grew firm again.

“Will you be all right?”

“Sir?”

“Leaving the Zhejiang branch to your subordinates, I mean. For the time being, you’ll have to work under me.”

Mo Yong-woo answered with confidence.

“My subordinate’s administrative ability surpasses even mine. In maintaining the branch’s businesses, he may in fact be better.”

“Heh-heh, is that so? If you rate him like that, he’s no ordinary talent.”

Mo Yonggun nodded.

“Later, depending on the situation, let’s bring him into the main house as well.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm? Heh-heh, what are you so surprised about? If he’s your man, he’s also a man of the main house, isn’t he?”

Studying him in silence, Mo Yong-woo nodded.

“You’ll like him as well.”

Mo Yonggun’s appetite for talent had no end.

But it wasn’t like the Nine Provinces Clans’ way of expansion. He coveted, but if it looked problematic, he wouldn’t even glance at it. That was why he’d been able to build such a stable base.

All at once, Mo Yong-woo’s face stiffened.

“Elder Brother.”

“Go on, speak first.”

“What you mentioned before...”

“What do you mean?”

“The marriage... sir.”

“Ah, the eldest daughter of the Central Plains Money House?”

Smiling, Mo Yonggun stroked his beard.

“Don’t worry. I’ve seen the girl once myself—keen of mind, and very comely besides. She’s young as well; she’ll be more than worthy as your match.”

Plain discomfiture spread across Mo Yong-woo’s face.

“I’m not yet... prepared in my heart...”

“Heh-heh, marriage isn’t anything special. Once you get it done, you’ll wonder why you worried.”

That wasn’t the problem.

But to Mo Yonggun, it truly seemed a non-issue. In fact, he himself had married by looking at the bride’s background and capability.

Nor was it just him. The world was like that.

It was a peaceful age, but that peace could shatter at any time. In an unfinished age of chaos, a marriage alliance with a powerful house might well be essential.

“However, it seems we should delay the match.”

“Sir?”

Mo Yonggun drew a golden document from his breast.

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes widened.

“That is...?”

“A document of the Alliance meeting drafted through the Grand Public Officer Council.”

“Is it permissible to leak such a document outside?”

“Hmm? ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Heh-heh! Are we not also the Alliance here? Don’t fret so much.”

Leaking important documents outside was a grave crime regardless of rank.

He trusts me.

Mo Yong-woo studied his brother’s face.

Despite leaking the document, he showed no anxiety.

He trusts that even if the leak is discovered, it won’t be a problem.

Without a firm base inside the Alliance, you couldn’t do such a thing easily. That was how confident Mo Yonggun was.

In that short time, he’s surely joined hands with several faction heads—at least four...

Terrifying.

It wasn’t just his personal martial skill and strategy that were outstanding. Mo Yonggun had a sure hand in politics as well, and that ability worked even on giants of the martial world who had been through every fire and flood.

“What is it?”

“...Nothing.”

Mo Yong-woo read down the document.

His eyes flashed.

“The organizational chart under the Alliance of the Martial World is complete. Of course, it will take some time before all bodies are fully arranged.”

“...The Field Forces are fast.”

“Indeed. As for the Independent Field Forces, among the warriors applying to the Alliance we’ll select by distinguishing jade from rock. It will likely be a great help to you.”

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes widened.

“But the numbers differ.”

“Hmm?”

“The personnel cap of the unit I’ll command and the unit the Yeon Clan’s eldest will command—are different.”

A chilly smile touched Mo Yonggun’s lips.

“Of course they should be. There’s no need to give that side many numbers, is there?”

The personnel cap for the unit under Mo Yong-woo was five hundred.

By contrast, the cap for the unit under Yeon Hojeong was a mere one hundred.

“More men doesn’t automatically mean better results. But if ability is similar, external factors begin to exert great power.”

“......”

“Within two years, dissolve or absorb that other unit. That’s your first assignment.”

“Understood.”

Mo Yong-woo set down the document.

His eyes wavered a touch, but his expression was firm. He had his own confidence.

“Before that, there’s something I think I must do.”

“Hmm?”

Mo Yong-woo looked out the window.

“I should meet the Yeon Clan’s eldest.”

*****

“Hmm, a hundred men.”

Yeon Wi sighed.

“I’m sorry. I did what I could, but this is how it came out.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“You never liked the very existence of Field Forces to begin with.”

“That’s why I opposed it. But if a Field Force is to be created regardless, I wanted to give you strength.”

“Haha, it’s fine.”

Amusement rose on Yeon Hojeong’s face.

“A cap of one hundred...”

“In truth, considering the provisions for operations, it’s not such a small number.”

“It’s actually a lot.”

“What?”

Yeon Hojeong cocked his head.

“I’ve no intention of filling out the hundred just to fill them. Of course, if useful people appear, I’d like to bring them in.”

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m curious about one thing.”

“What is it?”

“When can we depart the Alliance?”

Surprise crossed Yeon Wi’s face.

“You’re already thinking of taking the Field Force out and setting off with the Alliance?”

“Of course. I didn’t need a full hundred to begin with, but whatever the case, they’ve pressed us by numbers on that side. In that case, we have no choice but to head out as soon as possible and rack up achievements.”

“Isn’t that too hasty? And for a Field Force to act as a Field Force, it needs a proper objective.”

“Objectives can be made.”

“......”

“...That said, in truth, I think we only need to follow the Right Path.”

“Follow the Right Path?”

Light flashed in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.

A goal he’d conceived from the moment he brought the card of an Independent Field Force to Mo Yonggun:

“I plan to clean up the dark path.”

“The dark-path martial world?!”

“Yes.”

Perhaps it was the first time. That Yeon Hojeong hid his inner intent from Yeon Wi.

“I’ll cut out the vicious gangs of the dark path that suck the blood of the common folk. And if they aren’t dark-path but threaten the people’s lives, we’ll exterminate them all the same.”

Not all dark-path martial artists live declaring, ‘I’m dark-path.’

Those who betray the code and commit clear violations of the law—what are they if not dark-path?

“It’s not a bad idea. No—in fact, it’s a good one. When the White Path’s power concentrates in the Alliance of the Martial World, the dark path in each region will inevitably throw its weight around.”

“Exactly. We should start by pruning those stray branches.”

“Mm.”

Yeon Wi watched his son’s expression.

Yeon Hojeong smiled faintly.

“Why, Father?”

Yeon Wi could tell. That Yeon Hojeong was hiding something from him.

By now, he could pierce his son’s heart just by his face and eyes. That was how deep the exchanges between father and son had become.

“Is there no other objective besides that?”

“......”

He couldn’t lie.

Yeon Hojeong sighed.

“There is.”

“Very well. I understand.”

And that was the end of it.

His desire to know what that objective was burned in his chest, but Yeon Wi did not probe further.

If it were something he could speak, he wouldn’t be the sort to deceive his own father to begin with. Yeon Wi didn’t want to trouble his son.

But he would receive one promise.

“I’ll trust that it won’t be something that breaks with the code.”

“At least not with my code.”

It was an ambiguous line.

Yeon Wi nodded.

“Very well. That’s enough.”

Inwardly, Yeon Hojeong breathed out.

For his part, he wanted to reveal the existence of the Three Fanatical Churches. He wanted to say that not only the White Path Alliance, but even the dark path would have to unite their strength.

Not yet...

But not yet.

It isn’t time yet.

This was the father he’d wanted to meet again even in death. He knew that whatever he said, his father would believe him.

Even so—not yet. When time had passed and the enemy’s true form grew clear, right then—he wouldn’t be late to speak.

For now, focus on my work. There isn’t much time.

In the original course of things, the Three Fanatical Churches would invade the Central Plains more than twenty years from now.

But history had changed.

Because of Yeon Hojeong alone, the Yeon Clan—who should have been exterminated—had survived, the Nine Provinces Clans had fallen sooner, and the founding of the Alliance had been moved up.

This change was anything but small.

They could invade later than before. Perhaps, due to some incident, they might never set their sights on the Central Plains. But...

If they had been preparing the invasion from long ago—

Even if not immediately, the timing might come earlier. Just thinking of that one possibility means there’s no time.

The maximum leeway he granted the enemy was ten years.

At the very least, he had to assume the Three Fanatical Churches would push into the Central Plains within ten years. Even moving on that assumption would barely be enough.

In other words, within ten years he had to make Mo Yong-woo the Alliance Leader, cultivate the White Path’s full strength, and at the same time align the dark-path martial world’s power into one to prepare for war.

That was his goal and his charge. He believed that was precisely why Heaven had given him one more chance.

Yeon Hojeong believed it with all his heart.

“In any case, I don’t think there’s any need to move too hastily. As of now, there isn’t even a clear word on how to recruit soldiers for the Field Force.”

“Don’t worry. I have something in mind.”

“Mm?”

Yeon Hojeong grinned.

“They aren’t complete washouts, and at the same time they can roam the rivers and lakes freely. I don’t know how many will gather, but I estimate at least thirty.”

“Thirty...”

Light flashed in Yeon Wi’s eyes.

“You don’t mean—”

At that moment—

Both turned their eyes to the window at once.

Yeon Hojeong rose from his seat.

“I’ll go.”

“...It looks like a man of the Mo Yong Clan.”

“Yes. My guest, I imagine.”

The martial man heading toward Army-Breaking Pavilion was none other than Mo Yong-woo.

Good thing I prepared.

Yeon Hojeong felt at his chest. There was a fairly thick letter tucked there.

A letter to hand to Mo Yong-woo.

Even if I’m not there, I trust you’ll do well. Show me your ability to the fullest.

Yeon Hojeong spoke to Yeon Wi.

“I’ll have a quick talk and come back.”

“Very well.”

“And Father.”

“Mm?”

“Everything will go well. Don’t worry.”

Yeon Wi smiled. The peculiarly awkward smile that had been his now looked rather natural.

“Don’t go making trouble, you brat.”