Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 12

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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 12
Silence descended upon the Grand Martial Arts Arena.
What spectacle had the assembled servants of the Dokgo Clan anticipated?
The brilliant performance of Dokgo Ak, whose reputation as a prodigy preceded him.
And yet.
Thump!
In that silence, Dokgo Ak collapsed to the ground.
Standing victorious was none other than Dokgo Myeong—a figure whom everyone had dismissed entirely.
“The, the victor of this martial contest is!”
A martial officer from the enforcement division, belatedly regaining his composure, bellowed with a resounding voice.
“Young Master Dokgo Myeong of the Saheon-gak!”
At that proclamation, every servant present stood slack-jawed in disbelief.
“What is this…?”
“Remarkable! Young Master Myeong actually…”
“Now that you mention it, he didn’t even take a single blow, did he?”
All around, gasps of astonishment escaped from the crowd.
The gazes that had been fixed upon the fallen Dokgo Ak gradually shifted toward Dokgo Myeong.
Unlike Dokgo Ak, whose body bore countless wounds, Dokgo Myeong bore not even the smallest scratch.
A mediocrity had defeated a prodigy.
And overwhelmingly so.
It was then.
“Hahahaha!”
Laughter echoed from the elevated platform above.
“Splendid.”
It was Dokgo Cheon.
At his laughter, the previously chaotic Grand Martial Arts Arena fell instantly silent.
“An impressive match. Your accomplishment truly satisfies me.”
“…!”
The expressions of everyone gathered in the arena transformed in an instant.
Dokgo Cheon was notoriously stingy with praise. How long had it been since such words had left his lips?
“The defeated must remain silent, and the victor must savor their triumph. Do you have nothing to say?”
Dokgo Myeong smiled faintly.
“No, there is nothing in particular to say.”
His tone was indifferent, betraying little emotion.
Dokgo Cheon found himself satisfied with this very demeanor.
‘Not bad at all.’
Typically, at that age, victory in a martial contest would excite anyone. Especially when the opponent was none other than the child who had tormented him so often.
Yet Dokgo Myeong remained composed.
Dokgo Cheon’s eyes gleamed with interest.
“Heh, well then, that is good. But a victor must receive a reward, as is only proper.”
Dokgo Cheon gave a subtle glance to the side.
At that signal, the Black Dragon Sect Leader, who had been standing in the back, descended from the platform carrying something.
‘A wooden box?’
Clack!
The Black Dragon Sect Leader approached until he stood directly before me, then slowly opened the lid of the wooden box.
My eyes widened in surprise.
‘Could it be…’
Whoosh.
The moment the box opened, a refreshing herbal fragrance wafted out—the kind that drifts from a dew-laden forest at dawn.
Inside lay a small pill nestled in gold leaf.
Instantly, the Grand Martial Arts Arena erupted in commotion.
“The Iryong Pill!”
“What?! The Iryong Pill!”
It was the secret elixir of the Dokgo Clan, rumored to produce only a single pill per decade. A celestial medicine that could not be exchanged for all the gold in the world was being given as a reward for a single martial victory.
“Henceforth, continue to polish yourself through rigorous training and become a worthy successor who brings honor to the main family.”
Contrary to the bustling atmosphere of the arena, I let out a hollow laugh.
‘He’s handing it over right now.’
The reason he deliberately presented the elixir before all the clan members, when he could have given it quietly, was obvious.
Competition, victory, and tangible rewards.
Dokgo Cheon was spurring on the clan members.
‘That old man really doesn’t let even the smallest detail escape his notice.’
It was quite an overwhelming gift to receive for a single martial bout.
Smirk.
Of course, that was just my thinking. There was no reason to refuse when offered.
“Yes, thank you.”
I accepted the wooden box and bowed my head.
* * *
“That was quite an entertaining match, wasn’t it?”
Dokgo Gun spoke in a measured tone, watching as I received the elixir.
“Well, it wasn’t bad for passing the time.”
“You seemed quite focused from the middle of the match, though.”
At Dokgo Gun’s teasing remark, Dokgo Yeon’s eyes narrowed.
“…What focus? It’s just kids scuffling.”
“Is that so? I found it rather intriguing.”
“Stop talking nonsense. It looks like everything’s finished, so let’s go.”
Dokgo Yeon turned sharply and walked away.
‘Kids scuffling, she says…’
Dokgo Gun smiled knowingly, his gaze fixed on her hands.
Despite her composed demeanor, Dokgo Yeon’s fingers fidgeted restlessly.
Dokgo Gun knew well that this was her long-standing habit whenever she discovered something interesting.
‘That’s right, you saw the same thing I did.’
Though she pretended otherwise, Dokgo Yeon had felt something too.
Indeed, anyone with eyes couldn’t help but have thoughts upon witnessing that.
‘Dokgo Myeong.’
A child I hadn’t even bothered to pay attention to until now.
It was still merely curiosity at this point, but I felt the need to observe him more carefully going forward.
‘His name will be heard frequently from now on.’
It was already a tumultuous affair, but receiving the Iryong Pill had drawn the entire clan’s attention upon him.
Where attention gathers, conflict naturally follows.
Especially since Saheon-gak had been on the receiving end of things for so long, those watching for an opening would inevitably begin to probe.
“Hmm….”
Dokgo Gun followed behind Dokgo Yeon and glanced back over his shoulder.
He could see Dokgo Myeong in the center of the Training Hall, basking in the cheers of the clan members.
* * *
Dokgo Myeong watched Dokgo Cheon tilting a teacup to his lips.
He had been summoned on the way back after the martial exhibition ended.
In my past life, I had never faced Dokgo Cheon directly, yet this was already the second time in this life.
‘Quite different.’
I watched Dokgo Cheon silently sipping his tea.
It felt like gazing up at a mountain.
Before obtaining the Sensory Meridian, I hadn’t even known it was a mountain, but as my level rose, what I could perceive changed.
‘A mountain shrouded in clouds.’
A great peak stretching toward the heavens in solitary majesty, like a single unsheathed blade.
Soon, that mountain turned its gaze upon me, looking down.
“So, have you seen enough?”
Dokgo Cheon suddenly met my eyes directly and asked.
I smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
“And what did you make of it?”
“I believe I saw more than what you showed me.”
“Heh, is that so?”
Dokgo Cheon’s eyes gleamed with light.
“Fortunately, it seems I can finally see a bit of you now.”
And he added one more remark while glancing at my forearm.
“There’s no need to visit the Medical Hall, is there?”
“It’s fine.”
“Your arm is trembling. You’ve pushed yourself too hard.”
“This much is nothing. A few days of rest and it will be fine.”
I brushed my arm dismissively.
Muscles trembling beyond my control—what did that signify? It was clear I was in considerable pain and exhaustion.
Yet Dokgo Myeong didn’t so much as furrow his brow.
“In any case, what did you wish to discuss with me?”
“It’s been quite some time since I lost a wager. I summoned you to understand why, so I won’t lose next time.”
Dokgo Cheon chuckled dryly.
The outcome Dokgo Cheon had originally envisioned was nothing like this. He had merely hoped to provide a small stimulus to the clan, which had grown quiet as factional disputes subsided.
“Surely this cannot be called a wager, Grandfather.”
“Why not?”
“A gambling match requires stakes to be placed.”
“The Dual Dragon Pill from the Muhakbu is stake enough.”
“Yet you obtained something else with it. Why do you press the matter?”
At those words, Dokgo Cheon let out a dry laugh.
The boy could read what lay hidden behind his words and grasped his true intent with precision. It had been a long time since any of his grandsons made conversation this entertaining.
Thus, he found it utterly fascinating.
How had he changed so dramatically overnight?
“The martial contest at the Muhakbu proved quite beneficial, it seems.”
“Yes, the Vice Director was most helpful.”
“You appear to have gained profound insight. You’ve mastered an unusual martial art—its essence differs from our family’s techniques.”
His tone was soft and measured, yet his words carried weight.
‘So it comes to this.’
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed.
In truth, this was always inevitable.
The Cheonwae Gyeong pursued a different path than Zhongyuan martial arts. Unless Dokgo Myeong’s cultivation reached a higher realm, there was no way someone with Dokgo Cheon’s discernment would fail to notice at his current level.
And yet.
“Cherish and refine this enlightenment. Since you’ve forged your own path, all that remains is to walk it.”
“…?”
Dokgo Cheon dismissed the matter as if uninterested.
In truth, he believed this as well. Regardless of the process, what mattered was always the result.
“But I must ask this: do you believe you are ready now?”
“Ready for what, Grandfather?”
“A blade is most fearsome when sheathed. Had you intended to keep it hidden, you should never have drawn it. I ask whether you are prepared to draw the blade.”
“Of course.”
“Where does such confidence originate?”
“Did you not just say so? A blade is most fearsome when sheathed.”
“And?”
“The same applies.”
Dokgo Myeong smiled slightly.
“A secret is most fearsome when it remains unspoken.”
Dokgo Cheon regarded his grandson for a moment, then nodded.
“Yes, you speak truly.”
It grows more intriguing by the moment. His interest deepens with each exchange.
Dokgo Myeong’s increased martial prowess was inconsequential. What truly mattered was that he had changed as a person.
Moreover, I could discern that he harbored something concealed within his heart—yes, I could sense it. That’s precisely why he revealed it this time.
Yet I cannot fathom what it is.
Dokgo Cheon spoke with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes.
“You’re a bit late.”
“Late for what, sir?”
“This moment. I should have observed you sooner.”
Dokgo Cheon relaxed his posture and continued in a gentle voice.
“Let us conclude here for today. You came without rest immediately after the martial exhibition, so you must be exhausted. Rise now and take your leave.”
At this subtle dismissal, Dokgo Myeong rose from his seat.
“Yes, Patriarch.”
Just as he was about to offer a proper bow—
Dokgo Cheon suddenly added more.
“One final question, if I may. This is a grandfather’s inquiry.”
“Yes.”
“What do you wish to do henceforth?”
Between his drooping eyelids, Dokgo Cheon’s eyes gleamed like obsidian.
“I have no particular aspirations, sir.”
Dokgo Myeong answered with a slight shrug.
“But if I must speak plainly, I no longer intend to be swept along by circumstances.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Because I have been swept along for far too long.”
Dokgo Myeong—
No, I, Dokgo Hyeon, had lived that way for an eternity. Truly an eternity. Buffeted by status, by others, and by the world itself.
“From now on, I wish to live according to my own will.”
Dokgo Cheon’s eyes sparkled with light.
“Do you comprehend what you are saying?”
“Of course.”
The smile that had graced Dokgo Cheon’s lips gradually faded.
Had he spoken of becoming the Patriarch of the Dokgo Clan or achieving supremacy under heaven—
Such conventional answers would have earned a confident laugh and dismissal.
But observe this unexpected response. It lay entirely beyond his anticipation.
‘It sounds promising. Yet….’
Dokgo Cheon gazed silently at his young grandson.
‘Yes, this is merely a seedling.’
What it will become once it sprouts remains to be seen.
“Very well. Let us observe where this leads.”
Dokgo Cheon smiled faintly once more.
“Then I shall take my leave now, Patriarch.”
“Go on, return inside.”
Dokgo Myeong bowed his head and withdrew.
Left alone in the study, I gazed quietly at the door through which Dokgo Myeong had exited.
* * *
The study door opened.
It was Lee Seong-cheon, the Black Dragon Sect Leader, who stepped inside.
“You summoned me.”
Even now, my eyes remained fixed on some point in the empty space above the table.
“How long have you been under me, Seong-cheon?”
I asked without turning to face him.
“It has been over thirty years now.”
“Indeed, quite a long time. Come to think of it, you’ve witnessed my children and even my grandchildren grow.”
I gestured toward the seat before me.
Lee Seong-cheon understood from that gesture alone that the conversation to follow would be a private matter.
He pulled the chair forward silently and cast a transmission of spiritual energy into the void.
[Clear everyone beyond twenty paces.]
In an instant, the darkness that had been perched upon the rafters rippled and vanished.
I let out a low chuckle.
“I appreciate your quick perception.”
“Was it not for that single quality alone that you elevated someone as insignificant as myself?”
“Had it been only that, I would have cast you out long ago.”
The words were cold.
Yet they cut all the deeper, for if anyone could speak such truth, it was I.
“What is your impression?”
I placed a teacup before him and asked.
“You speak of Young Master Myeong?”
“Yes.”
“He appears confident and seasoned. Certainly, he has changed greatly.”
“Anyone would say the same. I am asking for your personal assessment, Seong-cheon.”
Lee Seong-cheon exhaled once and answered thoughtfully.
“There are many perplexing aspects. I lack the certainty to render judgment at this moment.”
“You speak much like the Tri-Blade Sword.”
“You refer to the Mahbu?”
“He evaluated Myeong and said he could not quite discern the boy’s nature. He likened him to a seedling that does not belong to the family tree—as if the family were a tree, yet he clings to nothing.”
Lee Seong-cheon’s eyes flickered.
Considering the meaning behind the epithet “Tri-Blade Sword,” those words were indeed laden with significance.
“So I intend to observe him for a time. Whether he will grow into a mighty tree or be uprooted as a troublesome weed.”
“Will you offer him assistance?”
“Hardly.”
Lee Seong-cheon paused before speaking.
“…Will that be acceptable?”
“What?”
“Young Master Myeong currently lacks even stable ground to take root, sir.”
A seedling that fails to grow properly will have its roots torn out by the slightest wind.
From Lee Seong-cheon’s perspective, Dokgo Myeong needed more preparation before revealing himself. Dokgo Wi-hak and Sa Heon-gak, both sidelined in the family’s power structure, could not serve as solid footholds for him.
Dokgo Cheon chuckled.
“You should never gamble, not even later on.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir…”
“You’re clever. That’s why you try to understand your opponent. But there exist gamblers for whom such understanding is meaningless.”
Sometimes there are gamblers whose thoughts remain utterly incomprehensible. In such cases, one must simply accept the opponent as they are.
Yet Dokgo Cheon had encountered so few people capable of doing that—he could count them on one hand.
“What do you think is his greatest weapon?”
Dokgo Cheon asked, and Lee Seong-cheon fell into contemplation.
Martial prowess? He was still a fledgling in that regard. He had unusual qualities, but they needed refinement.
Cunning? He seemed rather shrewd, but that alone was insufficient.
“He hasn’t revealed a single card he holds.”
He displayed martial arts, yet no one glimpsed his true depth. He showed cunning, yet never exposed his true objective.
In truth, Dokgo Myeong revealed nothing through all of this.
“Moreover, he hasn’t even sat at the table. That is his weapon—he never intended to sit at the table in the first place.”
As Dokgo Cheon spoke, he laughed with genuine amusement.
“If one doesn’t sit at the table, won’t they gain nothing?”
Lee Seong-cheon asked, puzzled, and Dokgo Cheon laughed again.
This is precisely why Lee Seong-cheon should never gamble. He cannot even imagine someone who never intended to sit at the table from the start.
“He can gain much.”
Because everyone else believes he has sat at the gambling table.
They would never suspect he’s the one who will overturn the entire game.
Dokgo Cheon laughed once more.
‘This is going to become interesting.’

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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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