Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 107

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

Chapter 107
Swick! Swish!
In a cool, dimly lit chamber, the sound of a blade being sharpened echoes.
Shhhhwick!
The grinding ceases, replaced by a chilling sound—like leather being torn asunder.
Drip. Drip.
The sound of thick liquid falling, followed by the acrid stench of blood rising into the air.
The Old Man observing everything from the shadows turned his head slightly.
“You’ve arrived?”
“Mm. How does it progress?”
Behind the Old Man stood a Middle-aged Man dressed in an ornate dragon-embroidered robe.
“We have achieved initial success.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It appears we have succeeded in the fusion of vital energies. The birth of the Supreme Divine Technique draws near.”
“At last….”
The hem of the dragon robe trembled.
The Middle-aged Man’s joy, brimming with elation, was laid bare.
“Is there anything else you require?”
“We need more people. To complete the research, we require a greater number of subjects. Ideally, those of considerable skill.”
“Very well. I shall make arrangements.”
“Perhaps you should leave now. I fear the stench of blood may cling to you, Household Lord.”
The Old Man and the Middle-aged Man exited the chamber together.
Beneath the sunlight, the two men’s identities became clear.
The man in the dragon robe was none other than Moyong Tae, the current Household Lord of the Moyong Family.
And the Old Man who followed behind him was Moyong Cheol, who had recently ascended to the position of Elder Council Leader.
“When might we conduct a test?”
“I apologize, but despite its power, stability remains lacking.”
“Still?”
“Unfortunately, without the final incantation to anchor its core, there is little we can do.”
For one bearing the title of Elder Council Leader who commanded the sect’s bloodline disciples, his deference to the Household Lord was excessive. Moreover, his manner of speech resembled that of a martial scholar rather than an organizational leader.
Moyong Tae clicked his tongue sharply.
“Tsk! We should not have let that arrogant brat slip away when we had the chance.”
“That child surely possesses the final incantation.”
“His whereabouts are unknown. I thought that wretch couldn’t escape the Buddha’s palm, yet here we are.”
Moyong Tae shook his head vigorously.
“Regardless, focus all efforts on deciphering the Sword Manual and crafting the divine technique.”
“Yes.”
“If we succeed… at last the Main Sect will surpass that detestable Dokgo Household and soar to prominence.”
“Not merely the Dokgo Household. Should the remaining plans also succeed, the Moyong name shall dominate all under heaven.”
“Indeed.”
Moyong Tae’s eyes gleamed with intensity.
Though its roots had been entirely uprooted, the divine techniques and secret arts of a martial lineage that once rivaled the greatest swordsman under heaven now formed the foundation. Upon this, he had built the martial prowess of the supreme Moyong Household, then veiled it all in the mysterious and grotesque blood arts.
It was a synthesis of righteous and demonic paths, encompassing both divine techniques and heterodox methods. Should it reach completion, it would undoubtedly become the most unprecedented and supreme martial art of all ages.
Moyong Cheol opened his mouth cautiously.
“Setting that aside… how are matters progressing?”
“Smoothly. The household heads of the Four Great Families are cooperating without resistance.”
“I heard the Young Master has departed on a journey.”
“I sent him to Deungyongji.”
“Deungyongji, you say?”
“I deemed it time to etch the Main Sect’s name into the Gangho. Rim-a will handle it well.”
“…But the Young Master has not yet reached completion.”
Moyong Cheol spoke with visible discomfort.
His word choice was peculiar—less concern for his own blood relative, more like an artisan fearing his masterpiece might be ruined.
“It is still necessary.”
“Well, among the posterior disciples, none could defeat the Young Master in combat, so it may serve as an appropriate trial. Though you have assigned escorts, surely?”
“Of course. And….”
Moyong Tae deliberately lowered his voice.
“Word came from the military commander. Twelve minor sects will join our side within this month.”
“…Household Head.”
Moyong Cheol’s eyes wavered.
“Can they be trusted?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I acknowledge the abilities of the Jeongheol Sect members, but there are many aspects whose intentions remain difficult to discern.”
Moyong Tae twisted his lips into a smile.
“You speak such words now?”
“Pardon?”
“That I, a mere bastard, came to sit in this position, and that you, who nearly had your name struck from the records for forbidden research, came to sit in yours—all thanks to them?”
“….”
“Abandon such useless thoughts.”
Moyong Tae’s eyes gleamed with an eerie brilliance.
A crimson glimmer flickered within that gaze before vanishing.
“For my own ambitions, I would unhesitatingly grasp the hand of even a demonic master of heterodox ways.”
“…!”
“For now, I can still use them. I am confident in that.”
One step.
Only one step remained.
The alliance of the Four Great Families, followed by the supreme martial art of all ages.
Should these two succeed, the world would become his.
“Not much time remains now.”
Moyong Tae’s eyes blazed with light.
* * *
Throughout the vicinity of Deungyongji, large proclamations were posted on every available wall.
They were notices bearing the family crest that symbolized the Moyong Household.
As befitted a prestigious noble family with a long history, the notices were filled with formal language and elaborate phrasing, yet the actual content was remarkably simple.
The Moyong Household would be hosting this martial arts tournament.
After preliminary rounds, the finals would proceed as a winner’s bracket, and the champion would receive both monetary rewards and a certificate of merit.
Those wishing to participate were to submit a wooden tablet inscribed with their name and origin by tomorrow.
Geum Seok-du smacked his lips after reading it all.
“It’s strange that no one’s raising a fuss about this.”
“About what?”
“Originally, the martial arts tournaments at Deungyongji weren’t competitions with a champion. They were more like social gatherings where the younger disciples tested their skills against each other.”
“What does that matter?”
“Wouldn’t there be at least one person thinking, ‘Who does the Moyong Household think they are, hosting a tournament and awarding prizes?'”
Typically, the martial arts tournaments at Deungyongji had no official organizer or formal structure. The true tradition was simply young martial artists of good standing gathering to deepen their bonds through friendly competition.
Dokgo Myeong chuckled softly.
“There might be some, but probably very few.”
“Why is that?”
“Imagine a rural academy holding a poetry contest when suddenly a prince appears and offers prize money to the winner. Who would complain?”
“Ah, I understand now.”
Even those indifferent to money would focus on the prince’s intentions rather than voice complaints.
“So why is the Moyong Household doing this?”
At the casual question that came from beside him, Dokgo Myeong blinked.
“And what are you doing here, naturally inserting yourself into the conversation?”
It was none other than Dokgo Ak.
Dokgo Ak stood with his arms crossed, exhaling arrogantly through his nose.
“I couldn’t stand being around those disrespectful bastards anymore, so I just left.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Then if you have nothing to do, why don’t you just head home instead of lingering here?”
* * *
Dokgo Ak trembled.
“You really… have no conscience, do you?”
“What?”
“Where am I supposed to get money to go home? You took it all!”
Dokgo Ak burst out shouting.
“Remember what you did yesterday causing all that chaos? I had to pay for it out of my own pocket!”
“Come on, you’re bragging about that? For a man, you’re really petty.”
* * *
Dokgo Ak’s mouth fell open in shock.
This bastard really… didn’t realize how much money that actually was.
If that were the case, you should have asked so confidently in the first place!
Dokgo Myeong continued with absolute certainty.
“And you, this mess happened because of you—why should I pay for it? Obviously, you should pay for it yourself.”
“Who told you to flip the entire inn upside down and smash it to pieces? You could have handled it more quietly!”
“Hey!”
When Dokgo Myeong suddenly shouted, Dokgo Ak flinched.
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes flashed as he spoke.
“I have never resolved a single matter by smashing things to pieces!”
“…?”
Was that really something to say with eyes flashing like that?
Dokgo Ak shook his head in disbelief.
“Either way, if you’re going to take credit using my money, shouldn’t you at least spend time with me? You have plenty of money anyway.”
In that moment, Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed.
“Now that I think about it, why would I take credit using your money? That’s all my money anyway.”
“Huh?”
“Isn’t that money ultimately what your father gave you?”
“W-well, that’s true, but….”
“Then where does your father’s money come from?”
“…Baek Ok-gak, right?”
“And which faction does Baek Ok-gak belong to?”
“…!”
“Your money is ultimately mine, and what’s mine is already mine. Do you understand?”
“That’s not…!”
Dokgo Ak, who was about to lose his temper, suddenly froze.
It was infuriatingly flawed logic… yet he couldn’t deny it!
Dokgo Ak, his mouth hanging open, grumbled.
“…Still, we’re family, really.”
“So you’re just going to push through with the family card?”
“What?”
“Didn’t you say you’d come under me?”
Dokgo Ak hesitated.
In truth, ever since being rejected that day, Dokgo Myeong had felt somewhat uncomfortable, and since he hadn’t shown any sign of it all this time, Dokgo Ak had been anxious.
‘So he hasn’t forgotten.’
It was actually a relief.
“You were the one who refused.”
“You should speak clearly. Is your character anything special? What kind of person would want to take you under them?”
Dokgo Ak hesitated as he spoke.
“Then what exactly should I do?”
“I already told you everything.”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking—how do I do it!”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“That’s… well, regardless, you’re my older brother!”
“Huh?”
Dokgo Myeong blinked in surprise.
A moment of silence fell between them.
I never imagined such words would come from this bastard’s mouth.
Dokgo Ak himself seemed a bit embarrassed by what he’d just said, avoiding eye contact.
“…”
“…”
The silence continued.
Only Geum Seok-du, who had been walking alongside them, kept his mouth shut while turning his head back and forth with obvious amusement, watching the two of them.
“Whether you believe it or not, I didn’t say this without thought. I’m telling you this because I genuinely want to change.”
“Why are you so determined to join the Martial Society?”
“Because… I think I can learn and observe the most by staying at your side.”
Dokgo Myeong studied Dokgo Ak quietly for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“…Did you eat something bad?”
“…?”
“Tsk, there’s no way you’d be like this just from taking a few hits to the head. Maybe I should take you to that old sage we met back then…”
“…”
Dokgo Ak had a fleeting thought.
Even if he wanted to change himself, was it possible that this bastard was constantly leading him astray?
Then Dokgo Myeong let out a soft chuckle.
“Alright, fine. I understand what you’re saying.”
Dokgo Ak turned his head sharply to look at Dokgo Myeong again.
“So you’ll really do anything I tell you?”
“Of course!”
“Then first…”
“First?”
“Go to the inn right now.”
“The inn? And then?”
“Get me a cup of warm honey water. I’ve been drinking so much lately that I have a terrible hangover. Ugh.”
“…What? You want me to bring honey water? How does that have anything to do with changing?”
“Look, younger brothers are supposed to follow their older brothers without question. Can’t you even do this?”
“Ah, well… that’s…”
“And while I won’t demand formal speech, you should at least call me ‘older brother,’ you brat.”
Is this right?
No, is this really right?
“I, I understand.”
I watched Dokgo Ak dash off hurriedly.
Dokgo Myeong chuckled at his retreating figure, but gradually his expression hardened.
‘Why would the Moyong Household host a martial tournament?’
Massive organizations never move without profit to be gained.
Individuals within an organization may possess goodwill, but the organization itself never can.
Then.
‘How convenient that Moyong Lim, who organized the Dragon Phoenix Gathering, happens to be here.’
Were they trying to draw attention?
Nothing gathered the eyes of the masses quite like showcasing the brilliance of an organization’s young talent.
‘Ju Won-gwang should be gathering information quickly.’
It was then that Dokgo Myeong fell into contemplation.
“Young Master!”
Geum Seok-du, reading the situation, brought over wooden tokens and showed them to Dokgo Myeong.
“Should I write down the wooden tokens for tournament participation and submit them?”
“Yes, that’s right. But bring one more.”
“Pardon? One more? Is it for Young Master Dokgo Ak?”
“It’s for you.”
“…Me?”
“You’ve trained enough in martial arts. It’s time you participated in a tournament. Go write your name down and submit it.”
Geum Seok-du tried to speak but clamped his mouth shut.
He already knew that persuasion was meaningless with Dokgo Myeong.
‘I’ll just submit it and forfeit later.’
It was when Geum Seok-du nodded with a light heart.
“You’re not thinking of forfeiting, are you?”
“…Pardon?”
“Of course not. Unless you want to get beaten to death, that is. Ah, I was mistaken.”
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed sharply.
“That is…”
“Surely you’re not thinking of just losing and getting it over with? Absolutely not! After all the hardship I put into training you, I won’t have you losing so pathetically! I simply cannot bear to see it!”
“…I will submit the token.”
Dokgo Myeong smiled with satisfaction and patted Geum Seok-du’s shoulder.
“Submit the token and wander around for a bit. We’ll meet up around evening. I have somewhere to go.”
“Pardon? What will you be doing alone?”
“Meeting someone.”
“Ah, that person?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
Dokgo Myeong slowly turned his body.
‘I should go see what that fellow is up to.’
To grow closer, one had to see the other’s face frequently.
Shortly after.
“Where did he go?”
Dokgo Ak hastily brought over the honey water in the kettle itself, his face contorting in distaste.

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