Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 11

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

Chapter 11
Blood rushed to my head.
It was a first.
Being struck down by someone in a martial bout, and rolling across the ground so pathetically.
‘And of all places, in front of these worthless subordinates!’
Crack!
Dokgo Ak gnashed his teeth with a venomous expression.
That crippled fool Dokgo Myeong dared to… what?
“How dare you! You worm!”
Screech!
Dokgo Ak’s amplified inner force surged forth like a sharpened awl.
“I’ll crush your limbs one by one! You won’t even be able to crawl off this arena!”
Dokgo Ak planted his foot firmly on the ground.
Boom!
Sand erupted into the air from the heavy stomp infused with vital energy.
And cutting through that sand, Dokgo Ak swung his sword.
‘I’ll pulverize you!’
Yes, I admit it.
Rotten as he is, that bastard does possess a speck of talent, even if it’s insignificant.
‘But that’s exactly the limit of your abilities!’
Dokgo Ak’s eyes gleamed with malice.
Whoooosh!!
The wooden sword merely cut through the air, yet it produced a sound like a swarm of bees taking flight.
Dokgo Myeong twisted his waist and evaded the strike.
Crash!
The wooden sword struck the innocent ground, shattering the arena floor as stone fragments scattered in all directions.
…
Though I evaded perfectly, I could see my bangs being sliced away by the sword pressure, scattering with dust.
‘Is this the Iron Sword Eight Techniques?’
I examined the sword path with curious eyes.
Indeed, it was a swordsmanship worthy of Dokgo Ak’s confidence. The power infused within it was formidable enough that even my fragile bones would shatter from a single direct hit.
“Yeah, that sword technique does look different.”
I let out a soft chuckle.
“But if it doesn’t land, it doesn’t matter.”
My eyes blazed with brilliant azure light.
Whooooom!
The faint blue inner force that had been flickering around my eyes transformed into the vivid color of the dawn sky.
Click!
And finally, I stepped forward, abandoning my focus on evasion alone.
“How insolent… huh?”
In that instant, Dokgo Ak let out a vacant cry.
Kwaaagh!
Dokgo Myeong extended his leg.
A front kick delivered with sharp, cutting precision. To the eye, it appeared that way.
Yet the sensation of the attack coming at me felt not from directly ahead, but from all four directions—above, below, left, and right.
“Ugh!”
Crack!
Unable to decide which way to move, I hesitated and took the blow squarely on my forearm, stumbling backward.
‘What… what is this? An illusion technique? But surely…’
Whoosh!
I widened my eyes.
This time a fist came flying. I tensed my gaze and stared directly at the fist, determined not to be deceived.
Yet in that moment, Dokgo Myeong’s fist seemed to split into nearly five separate images.
‘What… what is this!’
Crack!
A strange sound erupted from my side.
Followed by excruciating pain that bent my body.
Dokgo Myeong’s foot was embedded in my ribs.
“Aaagh! You… you bastard! What are you doing!”
Flailing backward in retreat, I cried out in fury.
“What did you call me?”
In that instant, Dokgo Myeong’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Now that I think about it, you seem to have a disease of the mouth.”
“What?”
What is this madman suddenly saying?
“Don’t worry. I may not be skilled in medicine, but I’m quite adept at curing diseases of the mouth.”
“Huh!”
Boom!
In an instant, Dokgo Myeong’s foot pushed off the ground and came crashing forward with tremendous force.
Pow!
The impact sound rang out.
A particularly solid, decisive impact.
‘Huh?’
The sky came into view. My jaw had snapped upward toward the heavens.
The moment I registered it, my vision went black.
Thud!
My back struck the ground.
“Ughhhh…!”
Having lost consciousness only briefly, I jolted back to my feet.
‘What? Why? How?’
Dokgo Ak grasped at his spinning mind and tried to swing his sword.
“That’s not it, you bastard!”
But he was blocked. Before he could do anything, Dokgo Myeong’s economical movements dismantled his every attempt.
‘No! I was just careless for a moment… Ugh!’
Crack!
The hand gripping the sword was flicked away.
‘I-I’ll use footwork instead….’
Snap!
His feet tangled.
“Th-this bastard, what kind of sorcery is…!”
Blocked again.
Continuously blocked.
No matter what move I attempted, my momentum was cut off one step ahead.
The Iron Sword Eight Forms—my Iron Sword Eight Forms were crumbling.
“Krrgh….”
Dokgo Myeong’s right shoulder tensed.
Then his right hand should come out….
Snap!
A kick suddenly erupted from the ground, lashing across my ribs.
The breath-stealing pain buckled Dokgo Ak’s knees once more.
“Gaaah….”
Dokgo Ak’s mouth fell open.
Dokgo Myeong’s indiscriminate barrage of punches rained down on him, half-dazed as he was.
Thud!
I couldn’t block.
Snap!
I couldn’t dodge either.
Thud! Snap!
I simply took the hits.
Again and again, I was struck.
I couldn’t regain my senses.
And finally.
Thump!
I had to drop to my knees.
“I-I….”
Dokgo Ak gazed at Dokgo Myeong through his blurring vision.
Shadows fell across Dokgo Myeong’s face as the sunlight streamed behind him.
Yet his expression remained distinctly visible in the lines of his features.
‘He-he’s smiling…?’
With his fists stained thick with my blood, Dokgo Myeong smiled so radiantly that nothing in the world could compare.
* * *
‘Memories of the past keep surfacing.’
I threw a punch toward Dokgo Ak while thinking this.
How strange—this feeling of nostalgia.
There was a time like this before. Precisely, in my past life.
In my past life, I had beaten Dokgo Ak down like this.
The moment I struck him felt exhilarating, but I couldn’t help but worry about the consequences that would follow.
As expected, the result of that incident was conscription into the Demon Slaying Unit.
Because I was a branch family member.
Or rather, I held such a lowly position that I couldn’t even be called a branch family member.
But now?
‘I’m a direct line member, aren’t I?’
Now this wasn’t an insignificant branch member’s rebellion, but a legitimate duel between direct line members.
At that moment, Dokgo Ak screamed with bloodshot eyes.
“How! How in the world are you—!”
I answered him.
With my fist.
“Ugh!”
Crash!
Dokgo Ak took another blow and was sent flying backward.
He had every right to feel aggrieved. True, since becoming Dokgo Myeong I had trained harshly, but his internal energy and physical strength far surpassed mine.
But.
‘I’m someone who buried all those arrogant bastards who boasted about being superior in that regard!’
Whoosh!
The Hyocheon Qi surged forth, maximizing my sensory perception.
The Sensory Meridian allowed me to feel all of Dokgo Ak’s movements.
And that wasn’t even the end of it.
The Sensory Meridian was the martial art of perception. If it merely maximized sensation, it couldn’t be called a martial art at all.
The Sensory Meridian was a shield to protect myself, but simultaneously it could become a blade to pierce my opponent.
For example, like this.
Whoosh!
I moved my right elbow slightly.
Dokgo Ak reacted instantly, placing his wooden sword against his left side.
“Gah!”
I struck Dokgo Ak’s right clavicle with my left fist.
Meanwhile, among the spectators watching the duel, confused murmurs arose.
“What is this…”
“Why is Young Master Ak losing like that?”
“Those attacks are clearly visible…”
Among them, those of higher skill gleamed with understanding in their eyes.
“Feint and substance.”
Someone spoke.
Piercing the false to deceive the real.
Real technique hidden within false technique—the foundation of martial arts.
“He scattered false techniques to completely sever Ak’s flow of energy.”
“How can someone so young possess such refinement….”
It was correct.
Sensory deception, fraudulent perception reversal. Deceiving the senses and breaking down martial technique.
Eye gleam, preparatory movements, muscle shifts—all of it used as false technique to deceive the opponent’s perception.
In essence, sensory disruption. Sensory deception weaponized.
“No, this is impossible!”
Dokgo Ak shrieked, his face a mangled mess.
“This… this can’t be happening!”
Dokgo Ak thrashed about, swinging his blade wildly.
From taking so many hits, he’d abandoned all technique. He simply swung whatever his hands could grasp.
“Ugh!”
Crash!
And he took another blow.
‘Me… losing to this bastard…?’
Dokgo Ak felt as though the ground beneath him had collapsed.
He was crumbling.
His pride, his self-esteem.
Even the confidence that sustained his very identity as Dokgo Ak was shattering into pieces.
Defeat.
The undeniable fact of his loss consumed his mind entirely.
“I… I….”
A weakened moan escaped between Dokgo Ak’s teeth.
Even through the dizziness of taking so many blows, his mind was flooded with questions.
Why?
Why am I losing?
I’ve mastered the Eight Iron Sword Forms and consumed elixirs, so why!
“I’m a dragon-blooded heir, so how can this be….”
In that moment, Dokgo Myeong’s smile vanished as he glared at Dokgo Ak.
“Listen.”
Dokgo Ak gasped involuntarily.
Seeing Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleaming with an icy blue light, his breath caught without his realizing it.
“Is your blood blue? Dragon blood freezes to death.”
“What? What do you mean… if you’re also a direct descendant of the Dokgo Clan….”
“That’s just another way of saying I got lucky being born to good parents.”
Dokgo Ak’s eyes trembled.
Dokgo Myeong regarded Dokgo Ak with an indifferent gaze.
It was all the same.
Direct lineage or collateral branches.
The servants watching from here.
Even those who had lived at the bottom of the Demon Slaying Unit, and even Cheonma Sect Leader Dokgo Hyeon who had led them.
They had simply been raised in different environments.
“What on earth….”
Dokgo Myeong shook his head vigorously.
“It’s like playing music to a cow’s ears. I know you won’t understand.”
Yes, I know well.
If you were someone worth explaining to, would you have grown up like this?
“Just take the hits. Once you get hit enough, you’ll understand.”
Dokgo Myeong broke into a wide smile.
Whoosh!
“W-wait… Ugh!”
Crack!
It hurt.
It hurt enough to die.
The blocked areas took hits, the hit areas took more hits, and even the injured spots took hits.
“J-just a moment… Ugh!”
He wouldn’t stop.
Dokgo Ak, thoroughly beaten, rolled across the ground with grotesque groans.
Only then could Dokgo Ak admit it.
‘I’ve lost… I can’t win.’
The fiery rage and arrogance that had surged up were nowhere to be found.
There was only pain. Dokgo Ak simply wished endlessly for this suffering to end.
There was only one way to make that happen.
“I, I!”
Dokgo Ak hastily thrust both arms forward toward the approaching Dokgo Myeong.
In that instant, Dokgo Myeong stopped abruptly.
“Ugh….”
Dokgo Ak bit his lip hard.
He had meant to say he lost, but a shred of pride held him back.
But he had to shout it. Only then would he take fewer hits.
“I! I… lost, you bastard!”
In that instant, Dokgo Ak’s nose burst with blood as he was sent flying backward.
At the same time, Dokgo Myeong suddenly cried out in an urgent voice.
“This bastard! Did you actually master the palm technique!”
“…?!”
“The Eight Forms of Iron Sword wasn’t the end!”
Dokgo Ak’s eyes widened.
You madman! What kind of technique is that!
I was trying to surrender!
“That’s not it! I’m surren—ugh!!”
Crack!
Dokgo Ak’s jaw snapped to the side once more.
‘Please, just let me speak!’
Dokgo Ak threw his head back in indignation.
‘I lost! I’m surrendering!’
In that moment, Dokgo Ak realized that Dokgo Myeong was glancing behind him, his attention fixed on someone.
Following that gaze, I turned my head.
‘…The judge?’
There stood the judge of this match, his eyes filled with uncertainty.
This bastard… surely not…?
“…Who said you could end this?”
Dokgo Myeong approached and murmured in a low voice.
“Why are you trying to wrap this up so warmly? We haven’t even started yet.”
“…!”
“Just stand there and hold your ground. Come on, grip the wooden sword tight. Get your stance right. There?”
“Y-yes…”
Dokgo Myeong personally pressed the wooden sword firmly into Dokgo Ak’s hand as it slipped away.
Dokgo Ak found himself gripping the wooden sword without understanding what was happening.
‘Gasp! This lunatic!’
Dokgo Ak jumped in shock as if burned and tried to shake the wooden sword away.
But in that instant.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, a dangerous presence surged forward like an ebbing tide.
Again. That same feeling of being toyed with throughout the match.
“…!”
Dokgo Ak leaped backward in terror.
Yet there was no attack. Only Dokgo Myeong’s whisper reached his ears.
“You’ve got it?”
Got what?
Dokgo Ak slowly lowered his gaze.
The wooden sword? Why am I still holding this?
Dokgo Ak turned his vacant stare toward Dokgo Myeong.
He was smiling.
Like a demon painted on a temple wall, Dokgo Myeong’s lips stretched wide in a grin.
“…It’s not over until it’s over.”
The whispered words came again.
‘Why does he have to say that at a time like this!’
A demon.
This bastard is definitely a devil’s spawn.
Dokgo Ak’s pupils dilated with terror.
“Ugh, uaaahhh!”
Dokgo Ak screamed and flailed his wooden sword wildly, desperately trying to shake off Dokgo Myeong.
And only then did he realize he shouldn’t have done that.
“Huff! What a surprising technique! I nearly let my guard down—that was close!”
Dokgo Myeong leaped backward with a flourish, retreating while breathing heavily as if genuinely startled.
“Dokgo Ak! You’re not finished yet! Truly worthy of the main branch’s bloodline! Come, let’s go again!”
“This, this insane bastard…!”
Thud!
He saw Dokgo Myeong’s fist flying toward his jaw. To avoid it, he had to swing his wooden sword to block.
And he failed to block it.
Crack!
“Gaaahhh!”
Dokgo Myeong laughed broadly.
A smile so wide he wondered if he’d ever smiled like this before in his life.

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