Black and White Martial Emperor

“What?”

Buseon’s eyes widened.

“The third disciple...?”

“Yes.”

Yangcheon answered curtly.

“He was thoroughly beaten. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“...!”

“He certainly hasn’t neglected his training. His muscles have reached a first-rate level in strength, elasticity, and flexibility. He also has an innate talent for qi accumulation. Despite showing no signs of having taken any spiritual medicine, he possesses an enormous amount of Inner Qi for someone at his level.”

“......”

“I taught him the Monstrous Rock Art. With a first-rate physique, first-rate Inner Qi, and first-rate martial arts, the third disciple should be considered an excellent fighter.”

Yangcheon’s gaze deepened.

“Yet he was defeated. From what I hear, the outcome was decided in an instant. They were supposedly at roughly the same level, but he was beaten to a pulp without landing a single effective blow. Do you understand what that means?”

“He let his guard down.”

“Even before that, his mind was rotten. The martial world is a place where someone several levels beneath you can still take your head. Yet the third disciple underestimated an opponent whose abilities were scarcely different from his own.”

He was fortunate to have survived. If Jeon Hong had not been Yangcheon’s disciple, there would have been no reason for the other side to consider the consequences of killing him, and he would simply have died.

In other words, Jeon Hong had survived not because of his abilities, but because of his connections.

How humiliating.

Buseon could imagine how miserable Jeon Hong would feel when he regained consciousness.

Yangcheon shook his head.

“I didn’t come here to complain about the third disciple.”

“...?”

“You saw it yourself before, didn’t you? When I had that martial bout with Yeon Hojeong.”

“Ah, yes.”

“At the time, I couldn’t help but marvel at his combat ability and terrifying discernment. In fact, he even managed to wound me during our first few exchanges.”

Buseon remembered that scene vividly. It was a sight she would probably never forget for as long as she lived.

The Fighting King himself, her own master, had been wounded by the attacks of someone far weaker than him. Even considering that Yangcheon had not been in his normal condition, the difference in their martial abilities should have made such a thing impossible.

“Do you understand? I had no intention of killing Yeon Hojeong. I still don’t. That brat understood what was going through my mind at the time. That was why he could fight so boldly and use such unconventional tactics to push me onto the defensive, if only for a moment.”

Yangcheon smiled.

“Do you see? In a fight, your own mental fortitude is important, but so are your opponent’s mood and circumstances. If Yeon Hojeong had known that I genuinely intended to kill him, do you think he would have dared to challenge me?”

“...He absolutely would not.”

“Exactly. He would never have dared. That is what makes him so remarkable. He knows precisely when to raise his fists, when to take up his axes, and when to bow his head.”

Yangcheon patted Buseon on the shoulder.

“The reason I passed the Black Lion Qi on to you before any of my other disciples was that I recognized your worth. But there is something even more valuable than the Black Lion Qi itself: that kind of discernment and instinct.”

“......”

“That is what I came to tell you. Martial arts are more important than almost anything else to a martial artist, but I wanted you to understand that there are things even more important than martial arts.”

Buseon lowered her head.

“Thank you, Master.”

“What are you thanking me for? I merely wanted you to realize that the inner demon troubling you is nothing much when you look at it from another perspective.”

Indeed.

Even a master of the Supreme Heavens, someone counted among the strongest in the Central Plains, sought to recognize and learn from the strengths of a person far younger and weaker than himself.

Considering Yangcheon’s standing, doing so could easily have wounded his pride. Yet he had reflected on his past self, acknowledged what was remarkable about his opponent, and even sought to make up for his own shortcomings.

How remarkable.

It was not because he had founded the first alliance in the history of the Dark Path.

Before Yangcheon was the leader of a great faction, before he was a martial artist counted among the greatest under heaven, he was a man with much to teach others simply through the person he was.

Buseon closed her eyes.

Even Master is someone who strives to learn. Who am I to suffer from an inner demon because of that man? I never had any reason to torment myself with feelings of inadequacy in the first place.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, the faint vibrations of Inner Qi emanating from Buseon’s body began to subside.

Yangcheon’s smile deepened.

Buseon °• N ?? v ?? l i g h t •° truly was an excellent disciple. It was remarkable enough that she had reached her current level despite her limited natural talent, but even though she had every reason to become arrogant, she never hesitated to learn.

Well done.

A few words of guidance would not be enough to free her from her inner demon so quickly.

Nevertheless, Yangcheon was certain that what he had told her today would greatly aid her growth.

“Come to think of it, today is the day I’m supposed to meet those damned people from Putuo.”

“Ah, yes.”

“What a pity. I really did want to meet them today.”

Yangcheon shook his head, then suddenly looked Buseon in the eyes.

“That young girl. The Sword Empress candidate from Putuo’s Lotus Gate.”

“Yes.”

“Now that I think about it, I suppose you never met her while you were planting the seeds of discord in Putuo.”

“That is correct. In fact, I never met any of the three candidates. Each branch was keeping its candidate hidden away and training her in strict secrecy.”

Buseon had not infiltrated Putuo Hermitage by becoming one of its senior members in the first place.

Contrary to the impression she gave Yangcheon now, she was highly skilled in covert operations. She had naturally disguised herself as one of the laborers supplying food to Putuo and used that position to stir up trouble within the institution.

In the process, she had befriended several of Putuo’s masters, but she had never seen the successors.

Of course, she had not carried out the operation alone. Nevertheless, the fact that she had led it demonstrated that her abilities outside the martial arts were exceptional as well.

“Have you met the head of Lotus Gate who came here?”

“No, I have not.”

“Yes, I thought as much.”

Yangcheon turned away.

“While I’m gone, do your best to keep them placated. I should be back around noon tomorrow.”

Buseon lowered her head.

“As you command.”

******

The night had grown deep.

The full moon shone unusually brightly tonight. Its light was so intense that even the stars around it appeared faint, making it resemble a bluish sun.

In the rear garden illuminated by that moonlight, Gangryang was slowly swinging his sword, his upper body bare.

DRIP. DRIP.

Sweat fell from his body, dampening the ground.

His sword moved slowly, without wavering so much as an inch. His slow-sword training seemed to have reached an extraordinary level. As the blade followed the flow of the air, it gave off not the slightest trace of Killing Intent or threatening sharpness.

His sword was slow, and so was his footwork.

Inside him, however, the Ghost King True Qi was moving furiously, heightening the sensitivity of every nerve throughout his body to an extreme degree.

With his five senses sharpened, the very act of swinging his sword became more difficult. His body could not help reacting to even the slightest stimulus.

Yet even under those extreme conditions, neither Gangryang’s sword nor his footwork faltered.

As though his sword and body had become one, the Ghost King True Qi flowing between his hand and his blade moved as naturally as water.

It was perfect unity of body and sword.

At his current level, Gangryang had reached the pinnacle of every realization available to him.

Even so, he was not arrogant.

It was not that he was dissatisfied with his accomplishments. Rather, he had seen far too many masters who had stepped into an entirely new world.

The martial path had no end. Even the Thirteen Seats of the Supreme Heavens must have encountered their own limits, and they would surely be striving to break through them.

Compared to them, he had only just begun learning to walk.

For a baby that had been crawling, taking its first steps was a remarkable achievement. But if it was satisfied with that alone, who knew when it would ever learn to run?

More.

His sword remained slow, but Gangryang’s eyes, fixed on its tip, were filled with elation and anticipation.

Higher. Faster.

HMMMM. HMMMM.

Sword resonance rang out.

It was not the vibration of a blade caused by excessive circulation of True Qi.

It was the resonance of the soul—a realm of genius that could be reached only by those who had infused their entire selves into their swords.

Even Yayul Jeok had said that there were few in the Perverse Lust Cult who had attained pure sword resonance.

And now Gangryang was entering that very realm.

All I have to do is pour everything into the sword...!

It happened at that moment.

RIIIIING!

His nerves, sharpened to their utmost limit, caught a faint trace of someone’s presence that he would never have detected under ordinary circumstances.

WHOOSH!

The sweat streaming down Gangryang’s body evaporated all at once.

SWISH.

Gangryang straightened his posture and closed his eyes.

A profound sense of regret welled up inside him.

He had been so close to crossing the Wall of Martial Arts, only for the path toward that realization to plunge back into darkness.

Regret became obsession, and obsession became an affliction that corrupted the human heart.

Gangryang drew a deep breath.

It’s all right.

The flames of affliction that had been slowly tightening around his throat subsided with that single deep breath.

I reached that realm once. There’s no reason I can’t reach it again.

Gangryang opened his eyes.

They were clearer and deeper now than they had been before he began training.

SHING.

Gangryang sheathed his sword and spoke calmly.

“You may as well come out.”

A moment later, a shadow emerged from behind him.

“...Remarkable.”

“......”

“I might have expected Yeon Hojeong to sense my presence, but I never thought you would. No, even Yeon Hojeong probably wouldn’t have detected me until just now.”

Gangryang turned around.

Yangcheon stood before him.

WHOOSH.

A lukewarm summer breeze brushed past their eyes and swept away into the night.

Gangryang asked calmly,

“I thought you would bring your subordinates and come through the main entrance.”

A peculiar light appeared in Yangcheon’s eyes.

He recognized Gangryang at a glance. Yet the young man now possessed such a remarkable presence that Yangcheon found himself wondering why he had paid so little attention to him before.

“All of Hunan is my territory. I could stop anyone on the street and they would be one of my subordinates.”

It was an extraordinary display of confidence.

In fact, countless masters were probably already stationed throughout the area surrounding Ghostfire Pavilion.

Gangryang gave a faint chuckle.

“You certainly live up to your position as the Lord of Ink Dragon Manor.”

Yangcheon studied Gangryang silently before tilting his head.

“Your reaction is quite unexpected.”

“Is that so?”

“You are the successor to the Ghost Sword, are you not?”

“I am.”

“To you, I must be an enemy you could never forgive. And just now, though it was not my intention, I even interrupted you at the very moment you were about to break through the Wall of Martial Arts. Wouldn’t any martial artist—any human being—be beside himself with rage in such a situation?”

Gangryang nodded.

“I’ve been keeping that rage and resentment safely stored away. But I know that today is not the time to let them out, so there is no need for you to concern yourself with them.”

“...Not the time to let them out?”

“You didn’t come here to see me, did you? My brother is on the top floor. You can find him there.”

Yangcheon examined Gangryang’s eyes and let out a sigh of admiration.

“They say a natural genius can never match a talented man who forges his own path. You have accumulated a depth of understanding far beyond what one would expect of someone your age.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“There is something I would like to ask you. When will the time come for you to release that rage and resentment?”

Gangryang smiled.

“When I become stronger than you. Or when you become extraordinarily weak.”

“......”

“That is when my revenge will begin. So make sure you don’t fall to some other bastard’s blade before then.”

Yangcheon remained silent for a long while before speaking almost casually.

“You are a dangerous man.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment as well.”

“It is a compliment. But it is also something that could amount to a death sentence for you.”

Yangcheon’s eyes turned cold.

“Even from this brief conversation, I can tell. You are dangerous. You are someone who may one day drive a blade into my throat. If I simply turn my back and walk away, I have a feeling the image of your sword pointed at my neck will keep haunting me.”

“You flatter me.”

“You have worked hard to reach this point. Farewell.”

BAAANG!

Yangcheon’s fist slammed into Gangryang’s chest.

SPURT!

Gangryang vomited blood and was sent flying thirty feet before crashing to the ground.