Black and White Martial Emperor

“Hm? Okcheong?”

“Ah... it’s been a while.”

“What do you mean, ‘a while’? It’s only been a day.”

“Has it...?”

Confusion surfaced on Yeo Guk’s face.

“Why do you look so sour? Something bad happen?”

“Nothing.”

The sight of him pale as a sheet, with even his hands trembling, was almost impressive. He looked so blatantly like something was wrong that it made you wonder if maybe nothing really had happened.

“What is it? And anyway—did you hear, too? That Commander Yeon broke through the Martial End Wall. Hah! I knew he was something, but now I’m seeing he’s just a monster—”

“......”

“Mm. Looks like you’re exhausted. Go in and get some rest.”

“...I’m not someone who deserves rest.”

What is that supposed to mean?

Yeo Guk wasn’t the type to stick his nose into other people’s business, but Okcheong’s expression was far too abnormal.

Yeo Guk asked,

“Say it. What happened?”

“It’s just that...”

“Just that?”

In the end, Okcheong let out a heavy sigh.

“I think I shouldn’t have joined the Evil-Smiting Corps.”

“Huh?”

Yeo Guk stared at him in shock.

Okcheong looked gentle and mild, but there weren’t many in the Evil-Smiting Corps as passionate as he was. Training, focus on missions—everything.

Separate from skill, he was someone who worked hard. So what was this, all of a sudden?

Okcheong pressed his fingers to his forehead.

“This won’t do. I have to go see the commander.”

“What—”

“See you later.”

With that, Okcheong bolted off. He ran toward the Army-Breaking Pavilion, in the direction of the great clans’ residences.

Yeo Guk smacked his lips.

“What the hell is his problem?”

*****

In Daoist Seunghyeon’s eyes, the gatekeeper and everything else might as well not have existed. He looked ready to smash down the Army-Breaking Pavilion’s front gate and charge in.

In the end, Yeon Hojeong stepped out himself.

“You’re the one?”

“I am the commander of the Evil-Smiting Corps. I’ve come to meet the head of Wudang Sect.”

Yeon Hojeong brought his fists together in a formal salute.

Daoist Seunghyeon’s face, which had been flushed red with agitation, returned to its normal color. Seeing the person involved calmed him down.

Hm.

Once he recovered his composure and cooled his excitement, he could focus fully on the young man named Yeon Hojeong.

Daoist Seunghyeon’s eyes widened.

“Hoh.”

Yeon Hojeong asked evenly,

“What brings you here?”

He wanted to order him out on the spot, but the visitor was the visitor—he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Daoist Seunghyeon was Okcheong’s senior and the giant who led Wudang Sect in this era. More importantly, he was also a Councilor of the Alliance of the Martial World, like Yeon Wi.

Unless a conflict rose beyond a certain line, Yeon Hojeong had to maintain basic courtesy.

“Are you Commander Yeon?”

“Yes.”

“Hoh. Hoh.”

After making a strange sound that was hard to tell apart as admiration or lament, Daoist Seunghyeon finally spoke.

“Good to meet you. I am the head of Wudang Sect. I use the Dao title Seunghyeon.”

“I know.”

His speech and conduct were courteous and measured.

And yet, a strange ease sat underneath it. His clear eyes and the naturally loosened posture made him look extremely fluid.

Daoist Seunghyeon was inwardly flustered.

Is it because he rested? Or because his realm rose...?

He felt far more human.

When Yeon Hojeong filed his return report, Daoist Seunghyeon had only seen him in passing at the Hall of the Martial Sage.

Back then, Yeon Hojeong had carried a strong murderous aura. He had crushed countless enemies, and ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) without realizing it, a Killing Heart had lodged inside him.

But now, it was different.

Eyes that deep and clear... it’s been a long time since I’ve seen them.

Even on Mount Wudang, a Daoist holy land, there weren’t many with eyes that clean.

Daoist Seunghyeon subtly turned his head.

Far away, a woman stood there awkwardly. She wasn’t at Yeon Hojeong’s level, but considering her age, she was an impressive master—and her eyes were even clearer than his.

That one... didn’t they say she was the deputy commander of the Evil-Smiting Corps?

He’d come barreling in on a surge of heat, but looking at a man and woman with eyes this clear, his composure returned before he knew it.

Yeon Hojeong tilted his head.

“What is it?”

“Mm.”

He had a mountain of things to say, but once he faced him, his mouth didn’t open easily.

In the end, Daoist Seunghyeon sighed.

“Could I have a cup of tea?”

“Of course. Please come in.”

A short while later, the two of them sat across a table inside Yeon Hojeong’s room.

Now he had to say it. Daoist Seunghyeon went straight in.

“I came because of Okcheong.”

“Okcheong?”

“That’s right.”

Yeon Hojeong tilted his head again.

“Is there some problem with Okcheong?”

“I believe there is.”

Daoist Seunghyeon’s eyes deepened.

“I looked over my junior’s martial arts for the first time in a long while. He had changed—shockingly so. He properly understood the true formula of Wudang’s martial arts. The junior who once walked the seeker’s path by thoroughly refining form... now carried the scent of a martial man.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yes. It’s a good thing. If it had ended there.”

Only then did Yeon Hojeong understand what Daoist Seunghyeon wanted to say.

“You mean the murderous aura embedded in his martial arts.”

“That’s right.”

Daoist Seunghyeon’s face hardened.

“It wasn’t a simple change. Every single movement was an extreme Killing Method—bursting the enemy’s vessels and aiming for bleeding.”

“It would be.”

It was a strange answer.

It sounded almost as if he had expected it to turn out that way.

Daoist Seunghyeon’s eyes sharpened.

“It’s fortunate he hasn’t lost the essence of Wudang’s martial arts even with such killing-heavy martial arts clinging to him. But as the saying goes—when the Way rises one foot, the devil rises ten. If you temper martial arts soaked in killing intent, the odds are high that you’ll lose Wudang’s original Immortal Aura before you know it.”

“That could happen.”

Again—an odd answer.

Daoist Seunghyeon’s neck slowly reddened. The heat that had settled a moment ago seemed to lift its head again.

“I know Okcheong. No matter what kind of hell he went through, he isn’t a child who would temper such martial arts.”

“From what I’ve seen, I agree. At first I thought he was a lazy genius trapped in fixed notions, but it turns out he’s so pure by nature that he’s fit to carry the lineage of the Immortal Way.”

“That’s right.”

After a brief pause, Daoist Seunghyeon asked bluntly,

“Did you rewrite him?”

“Yes.”

It was the answer he’d expected. But hearing it stated so plainly left him with less to say than he’d thought.

Daoist Seunghyeon looked at Yeon Hojeong for a moment, then spoke.

“Do you know that the person who taught Okcheong martial arts is the greatest elder of our sect, praised by all—the Sword Immortal?”

“I know, but...”

“People change depending on their environment. Whoever he learned under, if Okcheong himself stepped forward and modified his martial arts, I would have understood.”

“......”

“But his change wasn’t his own enlightenment. It was through another person’s forceful teaching—”

“I’m sorry for cutting you off, but what exactly is it you want to say to me?”

It was a bold question.

Strangely enough, Daoist Seunghyeon couldn’t answer easily.

Take Okcheong back? He couldn’t. Once Okcheong had joined the Evil-Smiting Corps, the one who could decide his disposition was the commander of the Evil-Smiting Corps. The Council had acknowledged that—so it wasn’t something Daoist Seunghyeon could argue about now.

And yet, he still believed Yeon Hojeong’s method was a problem.

“Did it have to be that way?”

Yeon Hojeong smiled faintly.

Daoist Seunghyeon continued immediately.

“The Evil-Smiting Corps has built great merit. It’s all thanks to you—and also the result of your soldiers’ strength. I understand, too, that killing-heavy martial arts are better suited for surviving in a dead ground. But...”

“From a long-term perspective, it could cause major harm.”

“That’s right.”

“Then have Wudang’s elders correct it.”

“What?”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes lit.

“Killing-heavy martial arts are better suited for surviving in a dead ground. For that reason alone, I taught them real combat and Killing Methods. Long-term development is a matter that has no value worth considering—at least, from my position.”

“......!”

“The Evil-Smiting Corps had to build merit. But merit can only be built if the soldiers are intact. Further—whether or not the Evil-Smiting Corps builds merit, the soldiers cannot die.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“Unless most of the soldiers entered the corps with firm resolve, their safety is my top priority. But the Evil-Smiting Corps is also an Independent Field Force, so it must build merit. In that contradictory situation, the only method I could choose was to sharpen their blades.”

That was why, watching the Evil-Smiting Corps fight, he had been so tense—so unlike himself.

And it would continue.

Until they truly treated the Evil-Smiting Corps like their own sect, like their own family.

And even after that, he would have to keep watching over them. He had promised, at minimum, that they wouldn’t die pointless deaths.

“......”

Daoist Seunghyeon looked at Yeon Hojeong with a stunned expression.

So that’s what it was.

He had wanted to pick apart a lot of things about Yeon Hojeong.

But Yeon Hojeong’s firm answer forced Daoist Seunghyeon to look back at himself.

Commander Yeon... he cares for his soldiers in his own way.

It was obvious.

And he had come storming in, ready to scold him, just because Okcheong’s martial arts had become too brutal.

His usual self would never have acted like this. The seat of Wudang Sect’s leader wasn’t something you could hold just by being strong.

Daoist Seunghyeon said honestly,

“I couldn’t see far, wide, or deep—hardly the way someone who leads Wudang should.”

He stood, brought his fists together, and bowed his head.

“What else can I say? It must have been your choice after long deliberation, and because of my ignorance, I committed a great discourtesy. I apologize like this.”

It wasn’t a greeting Yeon Hojeong could accept lightly. Yeon Hojeong also stood and bowed his head in return.

“No. I think your concern is more than reasonable.”

Daoist Seunghyeon smiled.

Even words that might have sounded like politeness carried strong sincerity. It meant he truly cared about the other person.

“Okcheong is a good child. Keeping purity even at that age is difficult for anyone. That’s why every Daoist in our sect cherishes him.”

In other words, his strong affection for his youngest junior had clouded his eyes.

Yeon Hojeong shook his head.

“If a day comes when the Evil-Smiting Corps is disbanded, I’ll do my best to take back the Killing Methods I taught Okcheong.”

“I’d be grateful if you did. Though I have no idea how that would be possible.”

Daoist Seunghyeon burst into hearty laughter.

It had been a situation where, if things went wrong, the relationship could have broken. But the way Yeon Hojeong handled it with firm resolve, and Daoist Seunghyeon’s flexibility, ended up making the relationship sturdier instead.

That was how human relationships were. You had to know when to step back and when to push forward—and you had to know how to reflect on your own words and actions.

He’s a good man.

Yeon Hojeong felt a quiet liking for Daoist Seunghyeon.

He liked people who took care of their own, and he liked steadfast wise men. Daoist Seunghyeon had both traits.

If Okcheong grew up in people like this, he won’t go astray.

That was when—

“Anyway. You.”

“Yes?”

“If your influence reached even the extremely fine forms inside Okcheong’s fist techniques and sword-palm...”

Daoist Seunghyeon asked with a mischievous face,

“...how much did you steal?”