Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 101

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 101
“Gahhh, huff… huff…”
Geum Seok-du staggered forward, breathing heavily.
“Huff, huff… Young Master…”
“Hmm?”
“I endured all that suffering within the family, and now that we’re outside… surely this is too much, isn’t it?”
Geum Seok-du groaned, his gaze dropping.
*Clink, clank!*
With every movement, dull metallic sounds echoed. While Dokgo Myeong traveled, he’d personally commissioned the family blacksmith to forge absurdly heavy iron weights that now hung from Geum Seok-du’s limbs.
‘This wealthy bastard has money, words, and a carriage—so why are we walking?!’
Fine, he could concede a hundred times over that wearing iron weights was acceptable. It was for martial training, after all, so it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
But still…
“Why chains and shackles specifically? The appearance is rather…”
“I just told the blacksmith to make something heavy but convenient to wear, and that’s what he did.”
“Even so, you just accepted it like that?”
“It’s not like I’m the one using them anyway.”
“You son of a—”
“Hmm?”
“It’s nothing.”
Geum Seok-du, his face contorted in misery, glanced around.
*Murmur, murmur…*
“What in the world is that fellow?”
“Surely, as the saying goes, our bodies and limbs are gifts from our parents—yet his head is shaved and he wears iron shackles on his limbs…”
“He must be a vile criminal who committed unfilial acts! And that handsome young master ahead must be the righteous hero who captured him!”
“Now that I think about it, that striking young gentleman… could he possibly be the legendary Dokgo Family…?”
Whispers drifted from the marketplace crowd.
‘It was this bastard who committed the unfilial acts, not me!’
He felt tears welling up from the injustice of it all.
In fact, a few had already begun to fall.
*Clang! Thud!*
Dokgo Myeong chuckled softly, watching Geum Seok-du diligently move his chain-wrapped limbs.
‘He’s gotten quite muscular, though.’
Geum Seok-du simply lacked great talent for martial arts.
So he needed to be trained diligently.
It wasn’t just to torment him.
Truly.
“Let’s rest for a moment.”
“Gahhh…”
Geum Seok-du collapsed face-first where he stood.
As water was poured over Geum Seok-du’s head—sweat pouring from him like rain—steam rose gently into the air.
“Huff, huff… So… could you please tell me where we’re headed?”
“To Honam.”
“Th-thank goodness, it’s right above us.”
Honam, where the Dokgo Family had established itself, sat directly below Hubei—the true heart of the Central Plains Jianghu.
Mudang, the chief seat of the Nine Sects, resided there, and Rongzhong Mountain, where the Zhuge Family had coiled itself, was also situated in that region. As a crucial crossroads for trade and commerce with well-developed markets, it had long been home to prestigious martial sects and attracted countless martial artists from across the land.
“Precisely where are we going? Mudang? The Zhuge Family? Or perhaps…”
“Have you heard of Denglong Ground?”
“Denglong Ground? Ah, you mean that place where the martial tournament is held every year. Isn’t that the martial arena that Faxun personally established in Wuhan?”
“You know it well.”
“Few would be unfamiliar with it.”
Denglong Ground, as its name suggested, took its inspiration from the ancient tale of the Dragon Gate. It was both a memorial monument and martial arena that Faxun had personally created to honor the later-generation martial artists who had given their all and perished during the Age of Secret Teachings.
Martial artists from all regions came to witness it with their own eyes, and with a martial arena present, tournaments naturally followed.
Since then, Denglong Ground had become a festival ground where martial tournaments were held around this time each year. As renowned figures and masters from prestigious sects began to take interest, it truly became like the ancient tale of the Dragon Gate—a bonus effect.
“Now that I think about it, the new year is approaching, so the martial tournament should be starting soon. Is this second person you mentioned perhaps a participant in the tournament?”
“That’s right. He’s probably been participating every year for quite some time.”
“What kind of person is he?”
What kind of person indeed.
I recalled my first meeting with that man.
-Rather than make a choice I’d be ashamed of before myself, I’d sooner die fighting.
That man who had been with me in the Chamado back when I hadn’t yet found my footing.
“A warrior.”
There was only one word to describe such a man.
“Pardon?”
“Of all the warriors I’ve ever seen, he’s the most warrior-like of them all.”
There were many stronger than him, more impressive than him, more fearsome than him, but not a single person possessed the martial spirit that he carried.
Geum Seok-du, who had been listening quietly, asked with a troubled expression.
“Why would such a person follow you, sir?”
I turned my head sharply.
“What do you mean by that?”
“…Ha ha.”
“You’re laughing?”
“…”
Geum Seok-du’s eyes darted about as he gauged my mood.
“I misspoke due to exhaustion, sir.”
“It’s fine. I understand.”
Geum Seok-du gently closed his eyes, then opened them with a smile—a smile of resignation.
“Will you be increasing the weight?”
“You know, so why ask?”
“I’m really going to die.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t die. I’ve tested it all. Now, here we go—weight increasing!”
“Krraaaagh!”
“Let’s try again!”
* * *
Wuhan, the capital of Hubei Province, was alive with festival atmosphere. The new year was drawing near, and the martial arts tournament of Denglong Paper was just around the corner.
“Impressive sight, isn’t it?”
Geum Seok-du exclaimed in admiration.
It seemed as though every type of person from across Zhongyuan had flocked to Wuhan. Martial artists in martial robes, Daoists in priestly garments, and monks in cassocks—they were all gathered together.
“Look there, Master! Those are foreign merchants. They must be ethnic minorities from the Frontier…”
“What’s so remarkable about that?”
“Well, it’s not often you get to see so many martial artists gathered in one place like this. And with everyone dressed so differently, it’s quite a sight to behold.”
“Let’s just go eat something.”
“I know an inn with decent skills in cooking. Shall we go there?”
The inn was packed with people.
Dokgo Myeong paid extra and sat by the window, watching the street below.
Strangers quickly became acquainted, forming groups and bursting into laughter as they headed into pavilions to raise their cups. They were all young martial artists of the Gangho, each carrying their weapons.
Dokgo Myeong clicked his tongue.
“Kids that young should be swinging their swords instead of wasting time like that. Back in my day, things weren’t like this. I don’t know where the world is headed… Tsk!”
“I’m genuinely curious—when exactly was your day, Master? When you were crawling around as a baby, babbling?”
As Geum Seok-du said this, he found himself imagining Dokgo Myeong as an infant.
For some reason.
Even back then, Dokgo Myeong probably had those piercing eyes gleaming while pummeling other babies his age.
Geum Seok-du shook his head and turned his gaze back to the street.
“Anyway… I saw people like that back in Hangzhou too, and I admired martial artists because of them.”
“Oh? Really?”
“They’re cool. They play well, they’re beautiful and handsome, and they’re so confident. They just seem to shine brilliantly, don’t they?”
“I think you shine brighter.”
“Are you teasing me again? I’ve told you before—I’m not lacking anything, I’m just shaved.”
Geum Seok-du grumbled and raised his cup.
Dokgo Myeong leaned his arm against the window and laughed.
“There’s no need to envy them.”
“Pardon?”
“Their shine won’t last long. The ones who truly shine are different.”
The real ones can’t be easily found in places like this. They’re locked away in their chambers reading texts, or swinging their swords in the Training Hall.
They stack sufficient firewood in solitude before igniting the flame. That’s why their light burns longer and brighter.
“Well, I see.”
Just then, laughter echoed from somewhere.
“You speak quite well for your age, young master.”
Dokgo Myeong turned his head slightly.
There was a beggar sitting there.
Thump!
Leaving the flustered Jeong behind, the beggar man sauntered over and sat down without permission.
“Ah, if eavesdropping on your conversation has offended you, I offer my apologies. Your words were simply so admirable that I couldn’t help but lend an ear.”
The beggar made a casual fist salute.
“This beggar’s name is Ju Won-gwang. I serve as the master of the Hu-gu Hall. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Geum Seok-du’s eyes widened.
Hu-gu Hall.
One of the main forces within the Gaebang. In terms of the Dokgo Family, it was equivalent to the status of a Sect Leader of the Thousand-Leaf Pavilion within the Main Sect.
“What business does a Gaebang beggar have with me?”
At Dokgo Myeong’s words, Ju Won-gwang’s brow furrowed.
“Even if I’m a beggar, I’ve given my name—wouldn’t it be proper for you to introduce yourself as well?”
His tone was almost sarcastic.
‘No! This won’t do!’
Geum Seok-du, seeing Dokgo Myeong’s profile, cried out urgently.
“I am Geum Seok-du. It’s an honor to meet the renowned master of Hu-gu Hall.”
“And you, young master?”
“Dokgo Myeong.”
Ju Won-gwang’s eyes sparkled.
“I already knew, actually. But your status is quite considerable, isn’t it? Well, at that level, one can certainly afford to look down on others, can’t they? Isn’t that right? Tsk, tsk, tsk!”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled softly and nodded in acknowledgment.
At his composed indifference, the man’s eyes narrowed.
‘No reaction?’
Ju Won-gwang grinned and opened his mouth again.
“I see now—you’re not fond of making friends, are you? Well, if that’s the case, this kind of atmosphere might not be to your liking.”
“….”
“How about I teach you how to make friends and get along with people?”
“Wait!”
Just then, Geum Seok-du, who had been sitting quietly, jumped to his feet.
“Please stop. Seriously.”
Ju Won-gwang laughed wickedly.
“What do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t provoke this person.”
“Are you warning me now? My goodness, are you going to beat up a powerless beggar?”
Geum Seok-du spoke firmly.
“It’s not a warning—it’s concern.”
“…Huh?”
“You’ll get hurt. I’m not joking. You’ll get hurt very badly.”
Ju Won-gwang blinked.
Geum Seok-du glanced at Dokgo Myeong with a worried expression and whispered in his ear.
“This person extends his fists impartially to all—regardless of age, gender, or status. Even to the elders of your own household.”
“…?”
“Seok-du, I heard everything.”
“I didn’t say anything false.”
“And you’re too late, you fool.”
Scrape—
Dokgo Myeong was pulling his chair back.
“Beggar, I misjudged you.”
“What?”
The moment I felt my body rising to stand.
Crash—!
Ju Won-gwang felt his head snap back violently as his body lifted into the air.
“Ah, again.”
While flying through the air, I heard Geum Seok-du’s voice muttering as he pressed his forehead.
Boom-crash—!
Ju Won-gwang smashed through the inn’s chairs and tables before crashing to the floor.
* * *
He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mouth gaping open.
‘I got hit? Me, the Sect Leader of Hugobu?’
It wasn’t surprising that he’d failed to read the situation.
Information about Dokgo Myeong’s martial prowess was already known. At the very least, he was certain the man surpassed him.
The problem was Dokgo Myeong’s way of thinking—throwing his fist without hesitation.
It made no sense.
As the Sect Leader of Hugobu, he received treatment similar to that of the Nine Sects’ elders. He simply hadn’t become an elder due to his youth, yet he received comparable treatment within Hugobu.
Wherever one traveled in the world, even the sect leaders of the Nine Sects didn’t approach him carelessly—yet this man threw his fist at him without warning.
‘Jeongcheon Alliance, Zhejiang, Huangshan Sect, Guhuashan… His recklessness was famous, but I never imagined it would be this extreme.’
This was a complete miscalculation.
He’d deliberately approached and provoked this rising talent named Dokgo Myeong to gauge his level, but the backlash was far too severe.
Crack! Crack!
Dokgo Myeong approached, cracking his knuckles as if warming up.
Only then did Ju Won-gwang scramble to his feet.
He had to apologize first.
That way, he wouldn’t get hit again!
“Wait, hold on. I was out of line.”
“….”
“I acknowledge that I overstepped, and I apologize sincerely. I was merely trying to gauge your nature, but if it offended you, I am truly sorry.”
Ju Won-gwang apologized genuinely for his mistake. He even admitted that his pride as the Sect Leader had made him stiff-necked.
For someone of the Hugobu Sect Leader’s status, it was a remarkably humble apology.
Dokgo Myeong laughed softly.
“You need to practice your acting more.”
“…?”
“Even a three-year-old child would have noticed that you deliberately provoked me to test me.”
Did he figure it out from the very beginning?
Wait, but he actually threw a punch?
‘What kind of person is this….’
Dokgo Myeong extended his hand to Ju Won-gwang, who lay sprawled on the ground.
“I’ll forgive you just this once. But if you act recklessly in front of me again….”
Dokgo Myeong grinned wickedly.
“You should be prepared for the Gaebang’s Posterior Pavilion’s reputation to be dragged through the mud.”
“….”
Ju Won-gwang hesitated and tried to grasp Dokgo Myeong’s outstretched hand.
But then.
Crack!
“…Ack!”
His throat constricted sharply.
The hand Dokgo Myeong had extended, which he thought was meant to help him up, continued forward instead, seizing him by the collar.
“Hack, hack! What, what are you doing?!”
“Forgiveness is forgiveness, but we still need to settle accounts, don’t we?”
“Settle accounts? What accounts?”
“Come now, why act like this? If you dared to test me without fear, you should have come prepared to take a beating.”
Whoosh!
Dokgo Myeong lifted the hand gripping the collar straight upward.
Ju Won-gwang shot up into the air like a cat grabbed by the scruff of its neck.
“It seems you have a slight affliction of the mouth, and early treatment works best for such conditions.”
What is this bastard doing? Has he lost his mind?
“Hey, hey, let go! I apologize, don’t I!”
“Just three strikes. That’s all.”
“What, what?”
“Your apology wasn’t sincere anyway. I’ll be generous and limit it to exactly three strikes.”
“What?”
Only then did Ju Won-gwang realize something had gone terribly wrong.
“Wait, wait…!”
Crack!
With the sound of impact, Ju Won-gwang’s jaw snapped to the side.
Meanwhile, Geum Seok-du let out a deep sigh and shook his head.
“Last time it was the Huangshan Sect’s first disciple, and now it’s the Gaebang’s Posterior Pavilion Lord.”
Why did fights break out with people from the Nine Sects and One Alliance every time he entered an inn?
Now he could only sigh.
“Your mouth! This damned mouth!”
“Ugh! Ugh! You said just three strikes, I’m sure… Gack!”
“Really now, I told you to stay still. What if I hit you wrong and you actually die? You actually die?”
“Argh! Wait! My eye! You hit my eye!”
Even as screams rang out from beside me, I merely shook my head side to side.
Sluuuurp!
Regardless, this wine was remarkably sweet.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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