Black and White Martial Emperor

THWACK!

With an axe chop that came down like splitting firewood, Yeon Hojeong killed the last Gloom-Death Hall killer at close range and turned his head.

CLANK! CLANK!

The chains wrapped around the massive upper body snapped to pieces and fell to the ground.

NEIIIGH!

The horse let out a harsh, uneasy scream. It had been frightened by the ominous aura pouring out of the human body it was carrying.

It was then.

The man swung his huge fist.

THWACK!

The horse whose head had been smashed folded its legs and sank on the spot; the man landed on the ground in a natural motion.

“Huff.”

After letting out one rough breath, the man stared blankly ahead. He had shown no hesitation when killing the horse, yet now he looked like a puppet without a will of its own.

He was a strange one.

He exuded an ominous pressure that words could not describe, yet his eyes were dull and vacant. At a glance, he even looked like an idiot.

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze sank deeper.

What is that bastard?

Until he moved, his presence had been almost nonexistent. But the moment he broke the chains, he began radiating a powerful aura on par with any high-level expert.

He’s strong.

Since his regression, the strongest enemy he had faced had been Ming Cheon.

But Ming Cheon had been cultivating a distorted form of the Vermilion Bird Canon. His realm had been more than enough to be compared to Yeon Wi, but before Yeon Hojeong’s martial arts, which were the polar opposite among polar opposites, he had no choice but to be helplessly crushed.

On top of that, the Vermilion Bird Qi had already wrecked his upper dantian from the start, leaving him in no condition to display his true ability. That had been the reason Ming Cheon lost to Yeon Hojeong.

Setting Ming Cheon aside, the expert who stood out most in his memory was Meng Yi. He had snared him in an instant thanks to his training with Mookbi, but with the strength he’d had at the time, Meng Yi had been an opponent whose victory or defeat he could not have guaranteed in a one-on-one, head-on clash.

That man, at least judging by the qi surging from him, was stronger even than Meng Yi.

At least one step above.

Just then, Agwang shouted.

“Pyeongsan! I speak as your master! Kill every last one of them!”

WHOOSH!

Even before the words were done, the giant man called Pyeongsan appeared in front of Yeon Hojeong.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

Incredible speed!

KWAANG!

Pyeongsan’s fist smashed into the ground.

Lightning-fast movement, a brutish fist technique. If Yeon Hojeong hadn’t retreated three steps in time, his left shoulder would have been shattered to pieces.

Agwang’s eyes widened.

“Deal with him later! Kill those Nine Sects dregs first!”

BOOOOM!

Pyeongsan charged at Yeon Hojeong again.

Amazingly, he did not obey Agwang’s order. The eyes that had been so dull were fixed only on Yeon Hojeong.

“Th-that bastard!”

Agwang was flustered.

Yeon Hojeong, on the other hand, inwardly felt relieved.

Even better.

If a high-level expert of this caliber set his mind on hunting the late-generation experts, it would be a nightmare on this side too. He wouldn’t let a single one of them die, but in the worst case, he could end up letting the leader of this group slip away.

Which meant—

One-on-one. All I have to do is bring this one down.

The conclusion he’d reached in an instant guided Yeon Hojeong’s body at once.

FLASH! THUD!

Pyeongsan’s body shook violently.

Knocking him back at a slanting upward angle, Yeon Hojeong then shot in like a gale and unleashed Reverse Dragon Palm.

DUUUUM!

It was a pushing strike, not a direct smash. Pyeongsan’s massive body lifted off the ground and flew backward.

Good.

The full force that had been reaching the late-generation experts receded that much farther. Now he could go all out.

KWAANG!

With a powerful step that felt like it could shake Mount Tai itself, a white windstorm blasted out.

At last, he drew on the Four Spirit Arts; Beast-King Nine Thunder Stances of the White Tiger Canon unfolded.

VUUUUM!

Mad Dragon (Axe) carved through the air, aiming at Pyeongsan’s upper body like a tiger’s forepaw.

Madness shimmered in Pyeongsan’s eyes.

JJJJEONG!

He met the terrifying seven-fold barrage with both fists.

PAAACK!

A faint film of blood spread across Pyeongsan’s fists. He had failed to completely deflect Mad Dragon (Axe)’s savage onslaught.

But that alone was astonishing enough.

Yeon Hojeong’s inner force, his skill, and on top of that Mad Dragon (Axe), a weapon worthy of being called a divine artifact.

Knocking aside with bare fists an attack that would send most experts flying within five exchanges was no ordinary feat. A level of internal power beyond imagination had been condensed into those two fists.

The martial arts of the two men collided head-on.

JJJEONG! RRRRRUMBLE!

Over the resonant clang of metal on metal came a roar close to thunder.

It was an utterly combative fight that allowed no dodging or counterattacks. A life-and-death struggle of strength against strength, focused purely on smashing the opponent to pieces.

FWOOOSH!

Pyeongsan’s forearms split open in jagged lines and were drenched in blood. His skin couldn’t endure the savage pressure of the White Tiger Qi.

SHRRRIP!

Both of Yeon Hojeong’s sleeves were shredded to ribbons. The arms revealed beyond the torn cloth were just as soaked in blood as Pyeongsan’s.

It was a clash of monstrous strength where it was hard to tell who had the upper hand. It would be difficult to decide the outcome through a contest of power alone.

Riding the momentum of the Beast-King, Yeon Hojeong had been pouring out relentless attacks when he suddenly spun his body.

PAPAPAPAK!

He shifted from a martial art of power to a martial art of speed. Pyeongsan’s attacks faltered under the kicks that smacked into his thigh, flank, forearm, and shoulder.

An opening!

It was a gap created by a beautifully linked sequence. Yeon Hojeong did not let it slip.

FWIP!

In a split second, Yeon Hojeong slipped into Pyeongsan’s chest.

Even in a position where it was difficult to swing his axe, the killing intent he exuded was unchanged. Pyeongsan instinctively drove his knee up.

It was at that moment.

The white wind turned into a dark-blue-black tortoiseshell.

BANG!

Under the tremendous rebound force, Pyeongsan’s stance crumbled absurdly easily. It was the absolute defense, Northern Heaven Twelve Walls of Black Tortoise Qi.

Was he going to switch straight into offense?

He did not.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

As Yeon Hojeong advanced, treading the terrifying steps of White Tiger Lording Step, the tortoiseshell shape above his upper body grew ever clearer.

Amazingly, he was driving Black Tortoise Qi to its limit while moving forward. He was launching an attack not with the White Tiger Canon or the Vermilion Bird Canon, but with the defensive Black Tortoise Canon.

Pyeongsan’s face darkened, dyed by the dusky blue-black light.

KWA-AAANG!

Pyeongsan’s body flew through the air and slammed into the ground.

“GRAAAH!”

He vomited a flood of fresh blood from his nose and mouth. He had suffered severe internal injuries from the enormous rebound force of Northern Heaven Twelve Walls.

Good.

Perfect defense could, in turn, become an invincible attack.

It was too heavy to use lightly, but if employed at the right moment, it could produce this level of power.

That alone is enough of a result.

As time went on, the speed of his transitions between martial arts grew faster, and his body grew honed enough to withstand that speed.

In the two months before coming to the Alliance of the Martial World, Yeon Hojeong had refined his martial arts, and his martial mastery had already grown to this level.

And that wasn’t the end.

FWOOOOSH!

From Yeon Hojeong’s eyes, which had been stained with the dark of the northern black, a sun-like killing intent poured out.

“KRAAAAGH!”

Pyeongsan rose, coughing blood, and charged at Yeon Hojeong once more. Again he unleashed a martial art of raw power, a fist technique of destruction.

WHOOSH!

Bewilderment flickered in Pyeongsan’s eyes. Yeon Hojeong, who had been in front of him, had disappeared.

Where had he gone?

FLASH!

Using the fastest footwork of the Four Spirit Arts, Blood Wing Sweeps the Heavens, Yeon Hojeong appeared at Pyeongsan’s back.

From the swinging Mad Dragon (Axe), red true qi blazing like flames burst out.

PUPUPUPUCK!

A speed the eye couldn’t even track.

Before anyone knew it, Yeon Hojeong had lowered his stance and raised Mad Dragon (Axe) high. His figure was the very image of a Vermilion Bird folding its wings.

DRRRIP.

Thin red lines were drawn all over Pyeongsan’s body.

A moment later—

FWOOOOSH!

Pyeongsan met his death as his entire body split apart into twelve pieces.

SWISH.

Straightening his posture, Yeon Hojeong drew in a deep breath.

It landed cleanly.

The ruler of the Southern Heaven, the Vermilion Bird’s absolute killing art.

Following the White Tiger’s Beast-King Nine Thunder Stances and the Black Tortoise’s Northern Heaven Twelve Walls, the Vermilion Bird’s Crimson Flame Six Slaughters Art had just been realized in perfect form.

But still...

As he looked down at Pyeongsan’s scattered corpse, a strange look crossed Yeon Hojeong’s face.

Did this bastard apprentice under that man?

One of the Thirteen of Celestial Ascension.

He could vaguely see the martial path of Battle King Yang Cheon, the only member of the Immortal Sovereigns belonging to the dark-path factions, among the Immortal Sovereigns.

...It doesn’t matter right now.

In the past, when he’d built the Black Emperor’s Citadel, the one he had clashed with to the very end had been Yang Cheon.

The moment he killed Yang Cheon and founded the Black Emperor’s Citadel, Yeon Hojeong had been acknowledged by all as a grandmaster of the dark path.

He’s someone I’ll end up clashing with anyway in the process of unifying the dark path. This isn’t the time to concern myself with him.

Yeon Hojeong turned to Agwang.

Agwang’s eyes were steeped in sheer terror.

“A... a monster...!”

Even before he’d fought Pyeongsan, the man had already overwhelmed him. And now it seemed [N O V E L I G H T] he hadn’t even been showing his full strength back then.

With his true body and true strength brought out, Yeon Hojeong’s martial arts were more than worthy of being evaluated as the completed work of an established school.

Yeon Hojeong leveled Mad Dragon (Axe) at Agwang.

Startled, Agwang stumbled back a couple of steps.

“Time to wrap this up.”

FWAAAAP!

Agwang sprinted toward the mouth of the valley without even looking back. The piled boulders made it hard enough just to climb over, but facing Yeon Hojeong in a fight was harder still.

Sangyo followed after Agwang. There was no point in continuing the battle any further. They had to at least preserve their lives.

Yeon Hojeong spoke in a calm voice.

“Mookbi.”

TWIIING! THUNK!

Two arrows flew past, grazing the sides of Yeon Hojeong’s face, and pierced straight through the backs of Agwang and Sangyo’s heads.

The battle was over.

*****

“Hoo... that was rough.”

Sitting down on the bare ground with Mad Dragon (Axe) set aside, Yeon Hojeong looked at the late-generation experts.

Their faces were stained with a shock that defied description.

It was understandable. They were disciples of the Nine Sects and One Union, pillars of the White Path orthodox faction, who had trained in martial arts for a long time. The fact that they hadn’t been able to use even thirty percent of that pride-filled martial learning in actual combat was bound to be a heavy blow.

On top of that, all fifty of them had ended up being protected by just two people—Yeon Hojeong and Mookbi.

The wounds to their hearts were far deeper than the wounds they’d taken from the enemy.

“Pretty brutal, isn’t it? This thing we call real combat.”

It went beyond brutal. The blades of the dark-path killers who rushed them without reason were fear itself. It had been hard to draw out even a single ingrained technique properly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you beforehand. But there’s one thing I’d like you to understand. I didn’t think you’d get overwhelmed that helplessly.”

It was a remark that pricked at their pride.

But why was that? They couldn’t even bring themselves to be angry at those words. That was how great their shock and disappointment were.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes cooled.

“Want me to tell you something surprising?”

“...”

“This archer—my friend Mookbi here—hasn’t been experiencing real combat for very long either. But she still managed to use more than eighty percent of her ability out there.”

Mookbi’s martial arts were undeniably strong.

But they had just realized that in real combat, mindset mattered more than the level of your martial art.

Even if you had reached the very peak under heaven, if you panicked, you could die. The blades of the rivers and lakes did not yield three seconds, nor did they stop at your throat.

That was real combat. You could only live by killing your opponent before you died yourself.

In other words, they owed Yeon Hojeong a life-debt— even if that life-and-death struggle had been something Yeon Hojeong had forced into being.

Looking at the late-generation experts with those clear black-and-white eyes, Yeon Hojeong spoke.

“If you stay with me, this sort of thing will happen countless times. From now on, I plan to pick out only the most vicious of the dark-path rabble and hit them.”

“...!”

“Like I said, I hold the right of life and death over you, to use you as I please. And that right of life and death is safeguarded by the Alliance Law of the Alliance of the Martial World.”

“...”

“Meaning, from the moment you followed me here, you became my subordinates. It’s just...”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“It’s going to be a problem if you’re just a bunch of nobodies who can’t even swing a blade properly at punks like that. So I’ll give you one last chance.”

“...”

“I’ll count to ten. Anyone who doesn’t walk out before then will, from this moment on, help me clean up the dark-path martial world.”

A wicked smile appeared on Yeon Hojeong’s face.

“One, two, ten.”

“...?”

“Oh? No one? As expected of the Nine Sects, I guess—you’ve all got a spine.”

Yun Ho spoke, sounding dumbfounded.

“H-hold on, you said you’d count to ten, right? How do you jump from two straight to ten?”

“Because I feel like it, idiot. Don’t talk back.”

“Ugh, seriously...”

A flustered Yun Ho. A mischievous expression on Yeon Hojeong’s face.

The late-generation experts found themselves letting out small snorts of laughter. Maybe because the mood had been so grave, even a small joke was enough to soften the air.

Once the serious atmosphere had eased somewhat, Yeon Hojeong spoke in a serious tone.

“Since you’ve come this far, forget the reasons and fight properly. As your commander, at the very least, I won’t let you die in a way that’s embarrassing.”

Song Yeongyeong asked with a smile.

“You’re not guaranteeing our survival?”

“We’re living on the edge of a blade. How could I know what’ll happen, or when? I don’t like making promises I can’t keep.”

Yeon Hojeong rose to his feet.

To the late-generation experts’ eyes, Yeon Hojeong no longer looked like just the eldest son of the Yeon Clan.

Yeo Guk asked, tossing the words out.

“What’s its name?”

“Name of what?”

“Our Field Force unit.”

His tone was more courteous than before—and he had said “our.”

Yeon Hojeong answered with a laugh.

“Evil-Smiting Corps. We are the Evil-Smiting Corps.”