Black and White Martial Emperor

Fwooooo.

The smoke he exhaled carried a faint green tint. It wasn’t grotesque so much as mystical.

Of course, since it had passed through a man’s lungs, it probably wasn’t doing anyone’s body any favors.

Dang Gwan tapped his long pipe twice.

The scattered ash rode the wind and rose high into the sky.

“Clan Lord.”

Without a word, Dang Gwan shifted his gaze to the side.

A man who looked to be in his early forties was standing there.

“Are you all right?”

“All right in what sense.”

“How could I presume to guess at your realm, my lord... but Crane-Crest Red may be a bit excessive.”

Dang Gwan shook his head.

“My Poison Art has stalled. I need measures like this to keep my body tense.”

“...Even so, I believe Crane-Crest Red is too much. Wouldn’t it be better to build your Poison Toxicity with a milder poison first, and then use it?”

The Clan Lord of the Tang Clan of Sichuan was its master—and its king.

Very few people could speak to that king like this. If they belonged to the Tang Clan, fewer still.

Dang Gwan shook his head again.

“I know my body.”

The man—Tang Yeongsin, the Medicine King Hall Master—let out a quiet sigh.

Dang Gwan’s eyes sharpened.

“Do you think I can’t endure even this?”

“If it is you, Clan Lord, you will endure it without question. I spoke only out of caution—please don’t take offense.”

“Hmph.”

Dang Gwan wore a chill, thin smile.

“A plateau is the same thing as a limit. I can feel it. If my Poison Art rises once I cross this limit... I’ll reach my father’s realm five years earlier than expected.”

Tang Yeongsin’s face stiffened, just barely.

Still, toward the Supreme Clan Lord...

Dang Gwan was a good ruler.

Not a merciful one, and not the kind who embraced people. From the start, wishing for such a ruler from the Tang Clan was a luxury.

Dang Gwan was strong. His talent was outstanding, his business instincts were sharp, and his experience in the martial world was deep—he rarely let his guard down.

He had no mercy for enemies, and if a Tang Clan member suffered even the slightest harm, he had the fiery temper to smash the other side to pieces without bothering with reasons.

Dang Gwan was a classic Tang Clan man—a ruler who had properly inherited Tang blood. That was why Tang Yeongsin served him with sincerity.

But even Dang Gwan had a flaw.

If only he’d untangled things with the Supreme Clan Lord.

Dang Gwan had a narrow and self-righteous streak.

The problem was that it applied even to his own blood. He didn’t turn it on his children—at least not the same way—but his relationship with his father, Tang Hyeong, the Supreme Clan Lord, was poor.

Tang Hyeong (the Dark King).

One of the Thirteen Seats of the Sacred Heavens—an absolute master, judged in this era as the most dangerous man in the martial world.

Maybe it can’t be helped.

The Supreme Clan Lord’s personality was as strong as the current Clan Lord’s.

But if age couldn’t be lied about, then unlike his endlessly progressing martial arts, the old man’s temperament had softened considerably.

That only deepened the father-son clash. The father clicked his tongue at the son’s narrowness, and the son couldn’t understand the father’s unrestrained nature.

If their relationship had been good—

Then the Clan Lord’s achievements would already surpass any head of the Nine Sects and One Union, any head of the Six Great Clans.

The Supreme Clan Lord hadn’t passed down all his martial arts to his son.

And it wasn’t only that. He hadn’t taught the heir, Tang Yangseon, either—saying his character wasn’t ready.

The only one the Supreme Clan Lord had poured affection into teaching was a single person: Tang Sang-a.

What a waste.

A shame, but unavoidable. Tang Yeongsin’s master wasn’t Tang Hyeong—it was Dang Gwan. And he had never once resented that.

“How long until noon?”

“Huh? Ah—yes. About half a shichen.”

Dang Gwan set the pipe down on the table.

“A guest will be arriving soon. Let him in.”

Confusion touched Tang Yeongsin’s face.

“A guest, you say...?”

“There’s such a bastard.”

There was a lazy air on Dang Gwan’s face.

From his expression, it didn’t seem like an important guest. Tang Yeongsin bowed his head.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“Do that.”

Tang Yeongsin left the room.

The moment the door shut, Dang Gwan let ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) out a sigh.

Annoying.

How many months had it been since he’d come to the ALLIANCE OF THE MARTIAL WORLD?

There had been this and that, but to Dang Gwan, it had all been exhausting. If it weren’t for building a power base and stamping the Tang Clan’s presence into everyone’s minds, he would’ve sent a proxy long ago.

I should leave soon.

It was enough now.

He’d become a councilor of the ALLIANCE OF THE MARTIAL WORLD, and his power base was stable. And the matter of his daughter—dragged out for months—had been resolved as of yesterday.

Only now did he feel light.

Mo Yonggun would handle the rest. He figured he could return to Sichuan sometime next month.

...

Staring out at the clear sky beyond the window, Dang Gwan suddenly thought of Tang Sang-a.

Dang Gwan’s eyes dropped, flat and cold.

There’s no place for you in the Tang Clan. It seems like a decent nest, so find your happiness there.

Dang Gwan cherished Tang Sang-a.

In truth, he cherished Tang Sang-a far more than Tang Yangseon. Talent aside, she had a charm that made the people around her happy—something that didn’t feel like the Tang Clan at all.

Not just because she was his child.

She was genuinely lovely.

Until Tang Sang-a turned fifteen, Dang Gwan had believed that unless the match was the greatest prodigy under heaven, no one would ever be allowed to bind themselves to his daughter.

But when his father—the Supreme Clan Lord, Tang Hyeong—began teaching Tang Sang-a—

That was when everything changed.

Fffssst.

Powder drifted from beneath Dang Gwan’s resting hand on the table. Poison Aura leaking out unconsciously had ground away the tabletop’s surface.

Dang Gwan’s eyes turned icy.

“Do you know? My father is the main culprit who ruined the main house.”

When he was young, Dang Gwan had wanted to resemble him. When he grew, the man made him feel pride in carrying the Tang surname. And now—he was a man Dang Gwan didn’t even want to see.

The Tang Clan’s greatest master, feared by the world—the Dark King, Tang Hyeong—was that kind of man to Dang Gwan.

“Soon. It won’t be long before I can crush you. It means you don’t have much time left sitting in the Tang Clan’s seat of Supreme King.”

Father was poison—among poisons, the most vicious and dangerous.

Dang Gwan believed, without a shred of doubt, that driving such a father out of the Tang Clan was the path that served the clan.

His gaze drifted to the pipe lying on the table.

A faint green light flashed through his pupils.

When I return to the clan, I’ll switch to Formless Supreme Poison.

He sank into those solitary thoughts for a long while.

Then—

Hk.

The eyes that had been heavy with languor sharpened.

...?

Someone was coming.

From outside the window, there was an unusual qi pressure. It still didn’t compare to his, but even in the ALLIANCE OF THE MARTIAL WORLD, it belonged to someone rare.

Don’t tell me it’s this bastard?

Dang Gwan frowned.

The qi was far more refined than he’d expected. He’d heard the man had only broken through the Martial End Wall a few days ago—so his qi should’ve been flaring out in every direction. Yet he’d already gathered it this tightly.

Not ordinary.

The bastard Mo Yonggun had called a monster.

Mo Yonggun was both a treacherous hero and a great hero. The world lived inside his eyes.

If a man like that spoke so, it meant Dang Gwan couldn’t afford to take this one lightly either.

A moment later—

“Clan Lord. The guest—”

“Let him in.”

“Yes.”

Creeeak.

The door opened, and a single young man stepped into view.

Dang Gwan’s eyes gleamed.

The youth—wearing white martial robes with a pale green outer robe draped over them—was strikingly handsome.

He looked more like a scholar than a martial artist. That was the atmosphere his appearance gave off.

But—

A beast.

The instant Dang Gwan saw him, he read the tyrant’s nature lurking inside.

A beast among beasts—hiding a feral instinct that seemed ready to tear out throats the moment he was crossed.

Subtle interest rose in Dang Gwan’s eyes.

Somehow similar to him, and yet different. Different species, but both predators.

That was Dang Gwan’s first impression of Yeon Hojeong.

And Dang Gwan through Yeon Hojeong’s eyes?

So this is the first time I’m seeing him.

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze looked rough and dangerous—like a winter wind laced with shards of a broken blade.

Same as ever.

Dang Gwan (the Ten-Thousand-Poison Emperor).

In the past, the Alliance Leader Mo Yonggun was called the Sword God and revered as the Orthodox Path’s Number One.

And Dang Gwan—who served as Deputy Alliance Leader right beneath him—was called the Ten-Thousand-Poison Emperor, and he drove the world into terror.

The ORTHODOX PATH ALLIANCE OF THE MARTIAL WORLD, led by Sword God Mo Yonggun and Ten-Thousand-Poison Emperor Dang Gwan, enjoyed the greatest golden age there ever was. They rose to the summit through blood-reeking power struggles, but once they stood there, they led the Orthodox Path martial world with outstanding governance.

And whenever there was a place Mo Yonggun couldn’t step into—couldn’t be seen stepping into—Dang Gwan was always there.

Not the strongest under heaven, but the man judged the most terrifying and most poisonous under heaven.

And the man who hastened Yeon Hojeong’s death.

Thump-thump.

He crushed the surging Killing Heart down, but what leaked out anyway stirred his Vermilion Bird Qi.

His heartbeat rose, and Vermilion Bird Qi surged on its own.

Fwoooosh.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes reddened.

Those eyes—smeared with fire and killing intent—revealed a monstrous ferocity. It wasn’t like when he faced the Ming Clan’s martial artists. This was a different kind of hatred.

...?

Dang Gwan’s look shifted sharply.

Would you look at this bastard?

Yeon Hojeong was smiling as he looked down at him, and the boiling killing intent in his eyes was no ordinary thing.

How intense was it?

Ssssss.

Dang Gwan’s hand dug straight through the tabletop. Poison Aura that burst out without him meaning to had ground the wood away in the shape of his palm.

...

The corner of Yeon Hojeong’s mouth lifted.

Dang Gwan’s expression changed again.

This bastard...

Tsss.

Vermilion Bird Qi called White Tiger Qi, and White Tiger Qi dragged in Black Tortoise Qi.

That heavy Black Tortoise Qi stimulated even Azure Dragon, and soon all four divine qi ignited—loading Yeon Hojeong’s qi pressure with a monstrous weight.

KRAK! KRRRAK!

Their ominous qi pressures collided, splitting the floor with sharp cracks.

If they had truly unleashed their qi, it wouldn’t have ended at this. The table would’ve split, chairs would’ve flown, and the entire wooden floor would’ve been pulverized into splinters.

The unimaginable pressure produced by a Transcendent Peak master’s qi.

A killing-charged atmosphere where it wouldn’t have been strange for them to clash right then and there. Beyond the strength of their internal energy, their vicious temperaments heated the air itself.

How long did it last like that?

Just as Dang Gwan’s finger twitched without him meaning to—

“Nice to meet you.”

“...?”

Dang Gwan faltered.

Tsss.

The Four Spirit Qi in Yeon Hojeong’s body sank.

All the energy he’d subdued starting with Vermilion Bird had erupted—yet now wasn’t the time to fight Dang Gwan.

Yeon Hojeong made a crisp fist-and-palm salute.

“Yeon Hojeong, eldest son of the Yeon Clan of Green Mountain, greets the master of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.”

Dang Gwan knit his brow.

Where had that “I’m about to kill you” aura gone? Yeon Hojeong killing his presence and saluting looked as clear as a cloudless sky.

Staring at him, Dang Gwan also slowly lowered his own pressure.

Ssssh.

Before he knew it, Dang Gwan’s face soaked back into its usual languor.

“Yeon Hojeong?”

“Yes.”

Dang Gwan’s mouth twitched.

This was the bastard who’d properly disciplined his worthless son. It had been his son’s fault, sure—but he had no intention of forgiving this bastard for it.

“To show killing intent on first meeting... and in front of me, of all people? You’re out of your mind to die.”

Arrogant words, dripping with contempt.

Of course he was the Tang Clan’s Clan Lord. Whether the other man was the Evil-Smiting Corps Commander or whatever, he didn’t care in the least. If he didn’t like you, he smashed you.

A savage, poisonous temperament. A dragon-wyrm who wouldn’t hesitate over any method if it served the goal.

And in that temperament—

Yeon Hojeong didn’t lose to Dang Gwan.

“Pretty stingy hospitality.”

“...What?”

“I came to get a drink. I already ate, so give me a bottle of something strong.”

“...”

“Oh—and if you have it, Wuliangye.”

Wuliangye (五粮液) is a famous Chinese baijiu (high-proof grain spirit) from Yibin, Sichuan.

The name literally means “Five Grains Liquid.” It’s a “strong aroma” (浓香) style baijiu—rich, fragrant, and full-bodied. The classic recipe uses a blend of five grains (often listed as sorghum, rice, glutinous rice, wheat, and corn).