Black and White Martial Emperor

I pray that the power I place upon your axe will never be stained with the blood of the innocent.

Lee Beon immediately understood what Tamgyeong meant.

And he was not alone. Yeon Hojeong and Beomo understood as well.

“Brother.”

Lee Beon stared at Tamgyeong, his eyes wavering.

Tamgyeong did not look back at him. His clear eyes remained fixed solely on Yeon Hojeong.

Yeon Hojeong spoke.

“How exactly is your power supposed to end up in my axe?”

“I believe you understand.”

“I refuse.”

Tamgyeong did not ask why, nor did he demand to know why Yeon Hojeong would throw away such a blessing.

“If you refuse, then consider it a request from an old man who does not have much longer to live.”

Yeon Hojeong frowned.

“Why in the world are you doing this?”

“I never asked you for a reason. Nor did I offer you a choice over whether you would accept.”

“......”

“I am simply asking you.”

A request.

There was no hidden meaning behind Tamgyeong’s request. He wanted Yeon Hojeong to take his Inner Qi—and the enlightenment he had gained along with it.

It was an astonishing proposition.

For a martial artist, Inner Qi was the foundation of every internal art. It was the source that allowed a frail human body to manifest powers approaching those of immortals.

And the Inner Qi Tamgyeong had cultivated was True Qi refined through the cultivation methods of Shaolin, the foremost Buddhist institution in the Central Plains and one of its strongest martial sects. More than that, it was overwhelming Inner Qi of extraordinary purity, cultivated by a man who had broken through into the Limitless Realm.

Inner Qi was not something one could readily hand over even to a fellow sect member or one’s own disciple.

Yet Tamgyeong was now offering all of his to a young man who was, by any ordinary measure, a complete outsider.

“I have no reason to grant your request. And I don’t need your Inner Qi.”

Yeon Hojeong was right.

After ascending another step through his battle with Yayul Jeok, he now stood at the very threshold of the Limitless Realm—the realm of a Martial God.

More Inner Qi held little value for someone like him.

More precisely, even if he accepted someone else’s Inner Qi, he would not be able to absorb it efficiently.

Why else had he given most of the medicinal force he received from Yangcheon to Gangryang? Even if he dissolved that power and made it his own, he would still need time to adjust both to the increase in strength and to the foreign True Qi.

With an operation imminent, that would be poison rather than medicine.

Too much could be as harmful as too little. Yeon Hojeong understood that principle well. Whether it was another person’s Inner Qi or the power of a spiritual pill, if the benefits outweighed the drawbacks, he would take it without hesitation.

But right now, Tamgyeong’s Inner Qi offered him neither a clear gain nor a clear loss.

If anything, weighed carefully, it leaned closer to a burden.

Accepting the True Qi of a retired Shaolin elder would leave a debt weighing on his mind—and likely earn him resentful looks from Shaolin as well.

Tamgyeong shook his head.

“At your level, you have no need for another person’s Inner Qi, or even the power of a spiritual pill. It would be different if you suffered an internal injury or temporarily lost a great deal of Inner Qi. Did you truly think I would not understand something so obvious?”

“Then why are you being so stubborn? I hate owing people things. Give it to Beomo instead.”

“I cannot. My Inner Qi was tempered entirely through martial arts. Beomo obtained the Great Power of Prajna through profound enlightenment. If I am careless, my energy could disrupt the power of Prajna within him.”

That reasoning was sound.

Even if their Inner Qi came from the same lineage, Beomo’s could not compare to Tamgyeong’s in sheer density of power. If things went wrong, Tamgyeong’s True Qi could destabilize Beomo’s Great Power of Prajna.

Yeon Hojeong shook his head.

“Whatever you say, I’m not accepting it. If I can become stronger by receiving another man’s power, that only means I could have reached that level myself eventually. The strength I build with my own hands is—”

“You already know, don’t you? With your enlightenment and discernment, even another person’s power can be internalized until it becomes as completely your own as something you cultivated yourself.”

“It would still be pointless trouble.”

“Yes. Pointless trouble. Unless I refine the True Qi myself before transferring it to you.”

“......?!”

Yeon Hojeong’s expression hardened.

Tamgyeong turned toward Lee Beon.

“Since coming to Foshan, this brother of mine has not undertaken any proper martial training. He has done nothing but endlessly circulate his qi and refine the energy within himself.”

“......”

“As a result, his Inner Qi has attained an extraordinary purity, completely free of impurities. In that one respect, its purity could even be said to surpass that of some masters who have broken through into the Limitless Realm.”

Lee Beon possessed more Inner Qi than Yeon Hojeong.

Yet his actual martial ability was inferior even to that of an ordinary Peak master.

For more than thirty years, he had done nothing but cultivate his Inner Qi. Forget real combat—he had not even practiced technique forms.

But because of that, Lee Beon had obtained utterly pristine Inner Qi, without the slightest impurity.

That tremendous reservoir of pure power was turning back the years for a man old enough that no one would have found it strange if he died that very day.

“I also know how to refine my Inner Qi into pristine True Qi. I will lose more than half of it in the process, but what remains will possess a purity comparable to my brother’s.”

“......”

“At that concentration, even you should be able to absorb it without much difficulty. It will become power more valuable than any spiritual medicine.”

“......Why?”

“Do you truly want to know the reason that badly?”

“As I already said, I can’t stand things that leave a bad taste in my mouth. Inner Qi is as precious as life itself to a martial artist. Why would you give something that valuable to an outsider like me?”

“Because you are an outsider.”

“What does that mean?”

“Because you are an outsider. Because you are crude and ill-mannered. And because despite all that, I know your essence is filled with chivalry and justice.”

Tamgyeong looked at Beomo.

“Beomo will grow well without any burden from me. There is hardly anything left for me to contribute to him. He has even awakened to Prajna on his own.”

Beomo silently lowered his head.

Tamgyeong smiled and nodded.

“You are different. You need help.”

“I—”

“I hear you are the very core of the orthodox martial world in this generation.”

“......?!”

“What? Surprised that an old man who has cut himself off from the world knows even that much?”

“That isn’t it. But calling me the core of the orthodox martial world is absurd—”

“Even if that were not true, knowing your temperament, you will fight more battles than anyone could count in the years ahead. And sooner or later, every person tastes the bitterness of defeat. Unfortunately for you, there is a very real chance that the moment you lose will also be the moment you die.”

Tamgyeong burst into hearty laughter.

“I am afraid, you see. Ridiculously old as I am, I am still afraid of death. That is why I do not want to return to the world.”

Lee Beon’s gaze deepened.

He did not want to return to the world?

No.

That was not it.

Somewhere in Tamgyeong’s heart, there was still a passion that longed to burst back into the world and shake the realm as he once had.

Tamgyeong had simply accepted the truth.

That longing was only the remnant of an old dream, a memory.

Even if he returned to the world now, he could no longer burn with the same passion he had possessed in the past.

To raise his fists merely for the small satisfaction of feeling useful, merely to gratify himself, would be impure by his own standards.

“And yet this damned power of mine keeps setting fire to my heart. I have already chosen the life I wish to live, but it keeps stirring up afflictions in the name of nostalgia and making me sigh like this.”

“......”

“I dislike that. I no longer need this Inner Qi or Shaolin’s martial arts. I may once have been the Master of Arhat Hall, the embodiment of Shaolin’s martial might, but now I am nothing more than a half-witted old monk who has decided to devote the rest of his life to saving sentient beings.”

Tamgyeong’s eyes were clearer than they had ever been.

They held the clear-sighted wisdom of another enlightened practitioner—someone who had come to understand himself completely.

“I do not know whether what we are doing here will truly save sentient beings. I may meet the same end as the countless past masters who spent three hundred years failing to unravel the secret of reincarnation before passing on to the Buddha’s side.”

“......”

“Even so, I have no dissatisfaction with the choice I made, with the past I lived, or with the future that awaits me.”

Yeon Hojeong stared at Tamgyeong for a long while before letting out a quiet sigh.

“If you truly want to rid yourself of that power, give it to someone else. Not me.”

“No. I want to give it to you.”

“There are plenty of people far more righteous and chivalrous than I am.”

“Of course there are. Don’t be arrogant. I’m not giving it to you because I think you’re the finest man under heaven.”

“......”

“I simply hope that with this power, you will be able to save more people.”

Tamgyeong shrugged.

“Besides, Buddhism owes a debt to your lineage. If not for the question the Martial Emperor of the Four Directions left behind here, none of us would have devoted our lives to this place.”

Yeon Hojeong gave an involuntary snort of amusement.

“Is that really a debt? Sounds more like a love-hate relationship.”

“Call it whatever you like.”

There was little point in continuing the conversation. They would only repeat the same arguments.

Someone had to make the decision.

And Yeon Hojeong was the only one who could.

He stared silently into Tamgyeong’s eyes before sighing once more.

“You’re giving it to me because you want to. Don’t think handing over that power gives you the right to interfere in my life.”

“I’m a busy man. I’m not fool enough to toss a blade I no longer need to a promising junior and then decide that makes him mine.”

“Now that is good to hear.”

“But as I said before, when the time comes for you to make a choice in the midst of chaos, remember this much. Choose the path where the blood of the good and righteous will not be spilled. And if circumstances make bloodshed unavoidable, choose the path that spills as little innocent blood as possible.”

“I already think about that every time I make such a choice, whether you ask it of me or not.”

“Ha ha ha. Exactly. That is precisely why I want to give this power to you. Even power that has become useless to me is better entrusted to someone who will put it to good use.”

Tamgyeong sat down where he stood and folded his legs into a meditative posture.

“It will take some time to refine the True Qi. While you wait, settle your own internal state. Even after more than half of my power is lost, what remains will be so pure that it will not be easy to receive.”

“Damn it. This is like setting a feast in front of a man who isn’t even hungry.”

Yeon Hojeong sat opposite Tamgyeong and folded his legs.

And so, entirely out of nowhere, Yeon Hojeong found himself about to receive power he had never expected.

Of course, that power was unlikely to produce any dramatic improvement in his martial prowess.

But at the very least, it might prove a very real help in the course of Yeon Hojeong’s life.

Come to think of it, many people had tried to help him.

His family went without saying. Venerable Gonggong and Daoist Seunghyeon had also granted Yeon Hojeong many valuable realizations.

And now Tamgyeong—a master from two generations before the present and said to have been the strongest Master of Arhat Hall in Shaolin’s history—was preparing to pass his own power on to Yeon Hojeong.

Perhaps this was Yeon Hojeong’s greatest strength of all.

The strange presence that made those who had attained enlightenment unable to simply pass him by.

The presence that compelled those who spoke of the fate of the realm to take notice of him.

To the Emperor of Darkness, who had once been surrounded by nothing but shadow, people from a dazzling world of white were extending invitation after invitation.

A young man walked between black and white, between light and darkness, seeking to set a chaotic realm back in order.

And now, the course of his life was beginning to surge toward upheaval.