Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 134

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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 134
Muyong Ji furrowed his brow as he spoke.
“Yet no matter how exceptional that man is, how can the Assassins be suffering such losses with their numbers?”
“His martial prowess is formidable in itself, but it appears he possesses a divine technique that conceals his presence.”
It was the Yonglin Robe.
Though a divine artifact, it resonated with the wearer’s true energy, and as Gi-wang’s masterwork interacted with Dokgo Myeong’s vital force, it maximized the function of presence suppression.
“Either way, this means he’s hunting us? Us…”
Muyong Ji fell into thought.
‘From the start, wasn’t I only thinking of engaging him in battle?’
Rather than a mere sentiment of fighting instead of fleeing, it now appeared that he too had been targeting them.
‘An object remains an object.’
I knew he wasn’t ordinary, but I never expected him to be this thoroughly mad.
“Tsk tsk, he must have thought that since our numbers fall short of twenty, if he forcibly reduced our count and then decided the outcome, he’d have a chance. But what can we do about this…”
No matter how hard Dokgo Myeong worked to reduce their numbers, their actual strength would exceed what he anticipated.
The Dark Sword Assassins weren’t called the blades of darkness for nothing.
What Gae-bang saw of the Assassins was not their entirety. Beyond the main force that departed from Zhejiang, there existed additional Assassins who had moved separately and would converge.
‘It’s like using an ox-slaughtering blade to kill a chicken. But surely catching him is better than not catching him at all?’
“What shall we do, Master?”
“Sound the horn. If he’s hunting us in reverse, there’s no need to maintain the encirclement any longer.”
“Sir?”
“It’s not a chariot or cannon—the King himself has appeared. If we simply capture the King, isn’t it over?”
“Then…”
“If we target him, those hiding inside will emerge anyway. Let’s shift from encirclement to a hunt.”
“Yes.”
Wheee! Wheeee! Wheeeee!
The horn’s cry pierced the air.
The Assassins surrounding the manor would all move toward where the horn sounded in unison.
Now Dokgo Myeong had truly become a rat trapped in a jar.
“I suppose I should rise as well now. My aching back.”
Muyong Ji rubbed his waist and stood from his seat.
* * *
Slash! Crack!
Another body collapsed to the ground.
Dokgo Myeong let his blade hang and clicked his tongue.
“Huff, huff.”
He regulated his breathing in short intervals.
Combat between assassins fundamentally required striking first to guarantee victory and killing with a single blow. Allowing counterattacks and successive strikes meant failure.
The problem was that Dokgo Myeong was one, while they were many. There would inevitably be moments where attacks got through.
‘Still, it proved effective that I set traps outside the manor rather than within.’
I had been diligently creating hidden shelters beneath the earth and digging traps that restricted the enemy’s movements.
‘Thanks to them, that makes seven. I’ve whittled their numbers down quite a bit. If I can eliminate just two or three more….’
Dokgo Myeong stilled his breathing again and spread his inner force thinly across the surroundings.
That was the moment.
Piiiiieeeek!
A whistle pierced through the air.
Dokgo Myeong clicked his tongue.
‘They reacted already?’
He sensed presences closing in from all directions.
They no longer bothered with concealment. The assassins surrounding the manor surged forward in unison.
Dokgo Myeong kicked off the ground.
Crack!
In an instant, a hidden blade flew past and embedded itself in a nearby tree, scattering wood chips.
Boom! Thud! Crack!
Hidden blades continued to rain down as he ran, cutting off his escape route.
Dokgo Myeong quickly planted his feet to brake, then snatched a flying blade from the air.
In one fluid motion, he spun and hurled it back toward its source.
Whoosh! Splat!
“Ugh!”
A sharp cry echoed from the darkened brush.
Dokgo Myeong muttered with a sneer.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you insects nipping at me from a distance?”
Dokgo Myeong kicked off the ground again without hesitation.
‘So the easy path ends here.’
Now that he was discovered, this sneaking about no longer suited his temperament.
“Haah!”
Dokgo Myeong drew in a deep breath and unleashed all the inner force he had been suppressing.
Boom! Kaaaaang!
With each step forward, Dokgo Myeong’s form stretched and accelerated.
Whirling Heaven Technique, Extreme Limit Cloud Form.
All the momentum of his advance was channeled into his Blazing Heaven Strike.
Clang! Crash crash crash crash!
With one magnificent slash, a group of assassins was sent tumbling backward.
Yet Dokgo Myeong clicked his tongue.
‘I didn’t cut through. What was that just now?’
In that moment, Dokgo Myeong’s eyes widened in disbelief.
A shield.
These assassins from Gangho—not even imperial soldiers—had actually brought shields with them.
Since his attack had failed, it was now their turn to strike.
Whoosh! Patter patter patter patter!
A barrage of hidden weapons flew at him from the front.
The moment I retreated, an Elderly Man suddenly plummeted from the tree above, driving his Cooperative Blade downward in a vicious strike.
Crack!
Trusting in the defensive power of the Dragon Scale Robe, I offered my shoulder and drove a palm strike directly into the old man’s chest.
Thud!
“Gasp!”
The Elderly Man was sent flying backward, coughing violently.
The enemies gave me no moment to catch my breath.
As if taking turns, a Young Man dressed as a farmer burst from behind the old man, and a curved blade slashed through the undergrowth, aimed at my back.
‘Are they accustomed to rotating formations?’
The death of one or two does not shake their formation or break their momentum. If one were to cultivate martial artists without pride, assembling an assassination unit solely for slaying masters, would they not become like these?
Boom! Crack!
I struck the curved blade from his hand and kicked the farmer backward, sending him sprawling.
In that instant, two Assassins burst forth from behind the pushed-back farmer, splitting left and right.
Whoosh!
I struck both down in a single breath, my eyes flashing with realization.
‘These two are a feint. The real trap is….’
My body spun around sharply.
Someone hurled themselves at me, wrapping their arms around me in a fierce embrace.
Squelch!
I drove my blade through urgently, yet even as my sword pierced through their body, they refused to release their grip.
The Assassin raised their head.
Our eyes met—eyes trembling with fear. With such eyes, the Assassin spoke.
“Die.”
Boom!
An explosion engulfed me.
A high-pitched ringing filled my ears as I staggered backward.
“Now! Throw it!”
Crash!
An iron net unfurled from both sides, closing in on me.
I leaped skyward immediately.
Whoosh!
A net fell from above an instant too late.
There was no escape. Suspended in mid-air and still reeling from the impact, I could not deploy the Cheonryu Yubo.
Crash!
I plummeted to the ground, the net wrapped tightly around my body.
“Poison Jars, throw them!”
Whoosh!
Dozens of poison jars flew through the air.
My eyes flashed with fury.
“Vermin.”
Boom! Crack!
The sound of collision shook the earth itself.
The shockwave struck the net wrapped around Dokgo Myeong’s body, and it suddenly lifted into the air.
Whoosh! Snap!
Dokgo Myeong seized it and waved it through the air like a banner.
Boom! Crash crash crash!
The incoming poison jars struck the net, bursting in mid-air or ricocheting away.
Poison smoke scattered in all directions, swept up by the wind created by the net.
Muyong Ji, watching from a distance, could only doubt his own eyes.
“Is that monster a man?”
His voice trembled with astonishment.
Truly astounding martial prowess. Most masters of Gangho would struggle against the wheel formation alone, yet he was single-handedly sweeping aside deformed weapons, arrows, flying blades, poison, nets—everything.
Boom!
Unable to bear it any longer, Muyong Ji stomped the ground.
Even in the midst of battle, Dokgo Myeong’s head snapped toward him.
Crash!
With a thunderous explosion, Dokgo Myeong was driven back forcefully.
The assassin’s relentless barrage of attacks ceased abruptly.
“Well, well. Who exactly are you?”
“Hah, huff… You emerge quite early.”
“Could you be some secret weapon cultivated by the Sword Sovereign?”
Muyong Ji asked, walking forward with his hands clasped behind his back.
Dokgo Myeong let out a derisive laugh.
“I need to live more diligently. Hearing you say I was raised in secret is rather flattering.”
“Absurd. I’ve captured many masters stronger than you, yet none have ever slain so many assassins single-handedly.”
Dokgo Myeong swept his gaze around and furrowed his brow.
“For having supposedly killed so many, there are still quite a few left.”
“Did you truly believe the numbers Gaebangs gave you?”
“I suspected as much.”
“Tsk tsk! Then you were reckless. Did you think reducing their numbers would give you a chance? Your tactics were amateurish. What general directly enters enemy lines in battle? You should have fled instead.”
Muyong Ji shook his head repeatedly.
“Do you actually trust those young companions of yours? Truly amateurish. Amateurish indeed.”
“There’s been a misunderstanding.”
“What?”
“First, they are not young masters. How dare these filthy assassins presume—”
“…”
“And second, I was not a general but bait. You could say I was the lure cast to draw you all together.”
“What?”
That was when it happened.
Crash!
A thunderous explosion erupted from the front flank on the side.
Muyong Ji’s gaze snapped sideways.
Crash! Bang!
Something was flying through the air.
An Assassin.
The one who had sent a person flying with a single swing of a massive iron axe.
It was Cheolmu-baek.
“Patience was not easy.”
With that brief utterance, Cheolmu-baek’s foot struck the ground.
Boom!
A single stomp seemed to have triggered an earthquake itself.
Such a terrifying stomp it was. One could only imagine the power of his leg technique that followed such force.
Crack! Boom!
The towering trees blocking the way and the Assassins scattered among them were all swept away at once.
A living, breathing typhoon. The man who had been crude ore had finally inscribed martial principles into his body and been reborn as the incarnation of martial prowess.
Yet he was merely the beginning.
Whoosh! Slash slash slash!
Two blades surged through the broken front lines.
“Ugh!”
“Argh!”
Two streams of sword light lacerated everything around them.
Namgung Sohwa and Dokgo Ak.
They pierced the gaps in defending shields and struck down all manner of grotesque weapons with vicious precision.
Swoosh!
Namgung Sohwa swung her blade, her short black hair like ebony scattering in the wind.
Hidden weapons, poison, iron nets—all manner of unconventional attacks came at her from every direction.
‘Compared to the attacks of the Bloodfiend, this is nothing.’
Namgung Sohwa let out a scoff.
Ting! Crack! Boom!
Her blade easily parted, blocked, and deflected everything from all directions.
It was honest and orthodox swordplay.
And because orthodox technique was always stronger than unconventional tricks, it was called orthodox for a reason.
“Watch out!”
Clang!
In that instant, Dokgo Ak, his eyes bloodshot, deflected a hidden weapon aimed at Namgung Sohwa’s opening.
Dokgo Ak was now beginning to display the bearing of a true master.
His already exceptional foundation, combined with the composure and practical instincts he had lacked, had finally come together. The sharpest blade here was Dokgo Ak’s.
‘That was all?’
Muyong Ji’s expressionless face wavered.
Strong. They were far too strong.
Among the hidden assassins, there were certainly masters who could be called first-rate, yet they fell without managing to exchange more than a few proper sword strikes with Namgung Sohwa and Dokgo Ak.
‘And what in the world is that one…?’
Crash! Boom!
There was another monster who could never reach such a state through merely training external martial arts.
A display of raw power I had never witnessed before in my life.
On top of that, crude and straightforward footwork unfolded, and with that alone, everything shattered into pieces.
‘Now that I think about it, wasn’t there one more person?’
The woman who had been puzzled soon noticed something strange.
‘Why haven’t I heard the sound of arrows flying all this while?’
The sound of arrows being released had not been heard.
That was why they had been pushed back so quickly.
‘They suppressed the archers first? But what distance could they have covered?’
Then Dokgo Myeong spoke with a bloody grin.
“I can tell by your face you’re wondering where the archers went.”
“…What did you do?”
“The fastest runner among us probably went and is caving in their skulls right now.”
“What?”
Thud!
Soon three figures arrived before Dokgo Myeong.
Namgung Sohwa and Dokgo Ak stood to either side, while Cheolmu-baek stood directly ahead with an axe slung across his shoulder.
“You’re late.”
Dokgo Myeong greeted them with a wry smile.
Namgung Sohwa glanced at Dokgo Myeong’s condition while keeping her sword raised.
“Are you alright?”
“How do I look?”
“You don’t look alright. I’m sorry. We’re late.”
“From now on, come back sooner. I really thought I was going to die.”
Dokgo Ak spoke beside her with a tense voice.
“Is that all of them?”
“Yes, that’s all.”
“Filthy assassin bastards… I’ll have to break every last one of their necks.”
“…”
Cheolmu-baek said nothing in particular. He merely breathed heavily and showed his excitement.
Muyong Ji let out a hollow laugh.
“Many have died. I knew some would fall, but that fewer than ten would remain…”
Muyong Ji spoke in a hollow voice, looking around at the devastated surroundings.
“Listen, all of you. Look at this. It’s because of bastards like these that I’ve been doing this work all this time. How in the world did two at the pinnacle and two first-rate masters push us back like this?”
“…”
“…”
Even in this murderous moment, the assassins were all terrified by Muyong Ji’s words.
Muyong Ji shook his head slowly.
“Well, there’s no helping it. I had hoped to preserve you all, but even out of respect, I must resort to my final technique. Open yourselves to it.”
“But… but…”
“Hmm, are you afraid of the side effects?”
“…”
“Why do you hesitate? Out of ten, two will survive. So trust in your fortune and begin.”
At Muyong Ji’s words, spoken with a sinister grin, the assassins began to tremble one by one.
Bulge! Screeeech!
In an instant, blood vessels erupted across the assassins’ bodies, and the stench of blood flooded the air.
“Blood Art.”
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed as he spoke.
Muyong Ji stepped forward and replied.
“You know of Blood Art? Then do you know this as well?”
Screeeech!
Muyong Ji’s fingertips began to gradually darken as if covered by a swarm of ants, suffused with black light.
A superior Blood Art of the Jeongheol Bloodfiend Sect, far beyond the crude techniques of the assassins.
The Black Bloodfiend Technique.

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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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