Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 154

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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 154
“So you’re Dokgo Myeong… that Pae-ryong fellow who’s been causing quite the stir lately?”
“I’m merely a false reputation.”
“False reputation, my foot. Anyway…”
Gwak Dae-ryong’s eyes gleamed with sharp intensity.
“Now then, let me hear your answer. How did you come to know that I am both a member of the Gungkoe and a survivor of Salgok?”
As Gwak Dae-ryong spoke, he studied Dokgo Myeong with calm eyes and reflected.
‘This one is no pushover.’
Since the Denglong Arena incident, I’d heard the name Pae-ryong mentioned here and there, and it seemed the rumors about his prowess held no exaggeration. If the fight began at a distance, perhaps it would be manageable, but at such close quarters, victory without losing limbs seemed unlikely.
Even in a one-on-one match, if two or three of those four companions behind him joined in?
Gwak Dae-ryong sighed inwardly.
‘It was quite a pleasant retirement, but I may have to leave again, whether I live or die.’
If I could at least secure Ye-hwa, who lay unconscious, that would be something.
In any case.
Regret was regret, and what needed to be known had to be known.
Ting!
Gwak Dae-ryong plucked the bowstring of his beloved weapon, the Gwaniljeok-gung, as if to urge a response.
Only then did Dokgo Myeong open his mouth.
“With your inner strength, senior, I suspect you’ve already overheard our conversation.”
Gwak Dae-ryong nodded.
“Of course I did.”
“Do you require further explanation?”
Gwak Dae-ryong smiled faintly.
“So it’s mere conjecture then?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t take me for a fool. Conjecture requires proper grounds to stand on.”
Gwak Dae-ryong trailed off and waved his hand dismissively.
“This conversation seems like it will take time. Let’s sit for this.”
“Very well. It’s cold tonight—would it be acceptable if everyone moved closer?”
“Bring Ye-hwa to my side first, then I’ll consider it.”
“Is Ye-hwa this young girl’s name?”
“Yes.”
“Rainbow flower. Quite a lovely name.”
Dokgo Myeong spoke thus and carefully lifted Ye-hwa, setting her down beside Gwak Dae-ryong.
Gwak Dae-ryong stared at Dokgo Myeong and asked.
“What is it?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“You know perfectly well, yet you make me repeat myself. What’s with your manner of speech?”
Dokgo Myeong let out a hollow laugh and spoke.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I was never the sort of shameless scoundrel who takes children hostage for coercion. Had you not attacked first, I would never have knocked her unconscious.”
“A child? This kid is already seventeen years old. How many years apart do you think we are?”
“Seventeen is still a brat.”
Gwak Dae-ryong’s eyes widened in surprise at those words, then he let out a bitter laugh.
“…Right, a brat. I must have misjudged you. I thought you were some heartless Gangho martial artist with a human face and beast’s heart.”
“….”
“Come on over here. What are you all doing?”
Gwak Dae-ryong gestured toward the area behind Dokgo Myeong.
His companions, who had been standing cautiously outside the firelight, carefully approached and took their seats.
Gwak Dae-ryong swept his gaze across his gathered companions once, then fixed his attention back on Dokgo Myeong.
“Whether you’re foolish or bold, at least it seems we can have a proper conversation. That’s a relief.”
Gwak Dae-ryong rested his left hand lightly on his bow, while Ye-hwa used his right knee as a pillow and lay down.
After a moment of silence, he spoke.
“I can grudgingly accept that the Bow Demon might be someone from Salgok.”
“….”
“The reason is simple—Salgok is originally famous as an archery sect. Moreover, the archery techniques I’ve learned are also from Salgok, so anyone who knows would recognize it.”
What is the most efficient weapon for assassination?
A sharp silver needle? A hidden soft sword? Throwing blades?
All wrong.
Assuming traces don’t matter, the supreme assassination weapon can only be the bow. It’s simply more efficient to snipe from beyond detection than to hide your presence, approach, and assassinate.
“But knowing my name is one thing—connecting both my identity and that child’s is absurd.”
“If it was merely simple speculation, surely you understand that your pressing questions give my speculation credence?”
Dokgo Myeong smiled, thinking he’d found the flaw in this argument.
But suddenly Gwak Dae-ryong chuckled and shook his head dismissively.
“No. No way. Who would fall for that kind of intimidation and subtle deflection?”
“Pardon?”
“The name Gwak Dae-ryong isn’t known to the world yet. It’s a name I took after coming here. But you came looking for me with certainty.”
“….”
“Not a con artist, yet trying to hook people with a three-inch tongue? Why’ve you gone quiet? You were chattering away just fine before. Hehehehe!”
At Gwak Dae-ryong’s blatant mockery, Dokgo Myeong swallowed the curse that had risen to his throat.
‘This man is no pushover.’
Meanwhile, his companions watching this, especially Geum Seok-du, widened their eyes in shock.
‘The Young Master lost a verbal sparring match?’
Moreover, the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed strange.
Look at that.
The way he spits out words like some street ruffian….
‘There are two Young Masters?’
But why had Dokgo Myeong suddenly become so subdued?
Could his martial prowess be inferior?
‘That’s ridiculous.’
Against the Nine Sects’ elders, Tuwang, and recently even the Dragon Head Faction Lord, wasn’t Dokgo Myeong always holding his head high and arguing fiercely?
But why was that?
Dokgo Myeong appeared to be in an exceptionally good mood.
“Ahem.”
Dokgo Myeong cleared his throat once and continued speaking.
“I’ve heard the name Gwak Dae-ryong through rumors.”
“How so?”
“They say there’s a master archer in a remote mountain village around here who hunts wild beasts quite skillfully.”
“Suppose you’ve heard that. So what’s your reason for seeking out this master archer?”
“I’m currently searching for some people.”
“…People?”
Gwak Dae-ryong glanced over his entire group.
Each one had peculiar bearing, and each possessed something remarkable about them.
Gwak Dae-ryong let out a low chuckle.
“Quite the impressive lineup. What, are you planning to overturn the Gangho?”
“You’ve hit the mark.”
“What?”
“We could be called those who dream of taking over the Gangho.”
Gwak Dae-ryong laughed dryly before speaking.
“So you want to recruit me? Listen. I’m an assassin.”
“That one’s a Frontier native and a foreign merchant who was recently a fighter at the Black Path Fighting Arena, that fellow’s a back-alley gambler by origin, he’s a notorious ruffian, and this one is the successor of an exterminated clan.”
Gwak Dae-ryong blinked his eyes, then laughed.
“And?”
“Whether an archer or an assassin, wouldn’t having one more person be reassuring?”
Gwak Dae-ryong, who had been quiet, muttered as he spoke.
“Young people….”
“Yes.”
“That’s what they do—they dream.”
Dokgo Myeong froze for a moment. Those words felt like an arrow that had flown straight into his heart.
A man who still retained the appearance of youth despite being nearly middle-aged, a man who had lived his entire life as an assassin.
He was speaking of the dreams of youth.
Gwak Dae-ryong shook his head.
“Let’s return to the main point.”
“After that, I simply thought a reclusive master archer would be someone of mysterious nature.”
“What do you mean by ‘mysterious’? That’s something you should explain.”
“I don’t have any particular evidence.”
“What?”
Dokgo Myeong closed his mouth.
“Ah, it’s just that people sometimes go by feeling, you know. I happen to have rather good instincts.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“People naturally move according to their moods, don’t they?”
“Where in the world does someone like that exist—someone completely unprepared?”
“Right here.”
In any debate, the ultimate trump card has always been pure illogic.
Dokgo Myeong had deployed the classic: “I am who I am, so what are you going to do about it?”
At those words, Gwak Dae-ryong furrowed his brow and glanced around at Dokgo Myeong’s companions.
“Is he always like this? Something seems off about the kid.”
“…Sigh.”
“….”
Dokgo Ak, Geum Seok-du, Namgung Sohwa, and Cheolmu-baek answered almost simultaneously—some with sighs, others with slow, deliberate headshakes.
Gwak Dae-ryong spoke with a wry expression.
“You must have it rough.”
The four nodded in unison.
“It’s exhausting, to put it mildly.”
“You could say we’re suffering.”
“It’s just absolutely….”
“Mm.”
Gwak Dae-ryong burst into laughter.
“You’re a bunch of troublemakers. I quite like you.”
“I like you too, senior.”
“Don’t get too excited and act overly familiar now.”
“Ah, yes.”
In that moment, the four listening to the exchange broke into laughter.
“Why are they laughing?”
“I’m not sure either.”
The reason was simple: it sounded like Dokgo Myeong and a slightly older version of Dokgo Myeong were bickering back and forth.
Dokgo Myeong smacked his lips.
“Anyway, while we were on our way to find you, suddenly an arrow infused with inner force came flying at us. When we chased after it, there was this young girl using the Assassin’s Technique. We questioned her, and she pointed her bow directly at us.”
“….”
“Whether it’s true or not, you should hear it directly from her.”
Gwak Dae-ryong let out a short sigh, then gently stroked the head of Ye-hwa, whose eyes remained closed.
“Is what he’s saying true?”
Whoosh.
At that, Ye-hwa, who had seemed completely unconscious, rose up like a ghost.
She gently rubbed her swollen, reddened forehead and nodded.
“…It’s true.”
Gwak Dae-ryong sighed once more.
After a moment of contemplation, he nodded.
“There are many unclear aspects to this, but since this girl attacked first, I’ll let it slide.”
“But she launched a surprise attack in the middle of the night—wouldn’t it be more just if we were the ones forgiving her?”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“We’d like to impose on your hospitality. Surely you have room for five of us?”
At Dokgo Myeong’s words, Gwak Dae-ryong’s eyes widened in surprise.
* * *
Dokgo Myeong’s group followed Gwak Dae-ryong into a remote mountain village.
The village possessed a certain rustic charm.
Houses clustered together on flat land nestled in the hollow of mountains that surrounded them on all sides.
A gentle breeze flowed down from the peaks, lingering as if reluctant to leave, while the occasional calls of nocturnal birds echoed through the tranquil atmosphere.
“Here we are. You lot take that chamber, and you take this one. Ye-hwa, you and the young lady share a room.”
Upon arriving at the quiet wooden house, Gwak Dae-ryong unhesitatingly began assigning chambers.
“Ah, wait, I….”
Namgung Sohwa hesitated briefly, glancing toward Dokgo Myeong.
Gwak Dae-ryong snorted.
“What, you don’t want to sleep alone with an assassin? Then why did you follow along?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“If I’d intended to kill you, I would have done it the moment you stepped through that door.”
Gwak Dae-ryong swept his hand through the empty air.
Instantly, threads as fine as spider silk unfurled from near the beams and wooden pillars, flowing across his hand with a whisper.
“Hidden Silk Threads?!”
“And that child is no assassin. Don’t be so careless with such titles.”
“Ah… Please forgive my rudeness. I apologize.”
Namgung Sohwa quickly bowed with proper courtesy.
Geum Seok-du, Dokgo Ak, and Cheolmu-baek also bowed respectfully.
“Thank you for your kindness.”
“We shall conduct ourselves with utmost discretion.”
“We are grateful for your hospitality.”
As these massive men bowed their heads repeatedly, Gwak Dae-ryong let out a laugh.
They resembled guests staying over at a friend’s house.
“First time I’ve seen assassins bow their heads like that.”
And so, all except Namgung Sohwa headed toward the guest chamber.
Ye-hwa stood motionless the entire time, simply staring blankly at Gwak Dae-ryong.
Gwak Dae-ryong heaved a deep sigh and opened his mouth.
“Go check the bedding and prepare it for them. They seem to have been sleeping rough for quite some time—fetch some water for them to wash with as well.”
“Yes.”
Only then did Ye-hwa vanish without a sound.
“….”
Dokgo Myeong, observing her departure quietly, subtly lifted his foot and tapped the floor a few times.
Creak! Creak-creak!
When constructing wooden buildings, spacing the planks or inserting metal plates between them produces such sounds.
Dokgo Myeong opened his sensory perception fully, quickly scanning everything within sight.
His sensory perception couldn’t see invisible things like the transcendent Shaolin’s Six Divine Powers. Yet it could still detect danger.
Dokgo Myeong sensed unsettling discrepancies throughout this residence.
“These are precautions I’ve installed in case assassins come looking. As long as you don’t do anything reckless, they won’t activate, so don’t worry.”
“Understood.”
“That child… he’s reluctantly mastered the techniques of assassination, but he’s no assassin himself. Do you understand what I mean?”
“He’s never actually killed anyone.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“You can tell by looking.”
“…It seems he’s grown up harsher than what’s known about him.”
Dokgo Myeong let out a slight chuckle.
“Sleep doesn’t seem to be coming. Would you care for a drink?”
“What?”
Dokgo Myeong smiled.
“I have ten-year-old Geomnamchun, Geumjonjung, and Okrojuhere. What would you prefer?”
“How do you come by such precious spirits?”
“I’ve heard that when visiting someone’s home, one should always bring a gift, so I brought these along.”
“Such a courteous young man. Well then, bring them all out. Ahhh.”
Clink!
Dokgo Myeong casually lifted the bundle he’d already been holding in one hand.
Gwak Dae-ryong burst into laughter.
* * *
Meaningless conversation flowed back and forth as cups were exchanged several times.
Sometimes such trivial talk was necessary. After all, how could people speak only of hidden intentions and heavy matters all day long?
Dokgo Myeong shared the drink comfortably.
Only after a slight buzz began to settle in did he ask as if it were nothing at all.
“If we were pursuers, why would you open all your chambers to us? Shouldn’t you conduct some verification first?”
Gwak Dae-ryong drained his cup and smiled knowingly.
“You don’t have the temperament for such things. Neither do those you’ve brought with you.”
“…?”
“Let me guess. Your cousin is only just beginning to act like a proper person, the bald one has too many worries to do anything reckless, that descendant of an extinct clan has too straightforward a character to be an assassin, and that bear-like fellow was always more suited for fighting than assassination work.”
Dokgo Myeong let out a hollow laugh.
It was almost as if he were dealing with a physiognomist.
“Don’t be alarmed. Assassins are simply good at reading people.”
“But you didn’t mention me.”
“Let’s skip over you. There are always those who fall outside the usual categories.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Not quite.”
Gwak Dae-ryong wore a peculiar expression.
“I’m not sure if I should feel good or bad about this, but why do you feel so familiar? If I had a younger brother I’d lost touch with, I think he’d be much like you.”
“I’ve had a similar thought myself.”
Was it now?
Dokgo Myeong was about to ask him to come along, but he quietly closed his mouth.
Such words didn’t belong in this peaceful night air.
Perhaps it was because he already knew what answer he would receive.
Dokgo Myeong asked.
“Would it be alright if I stayed a few more days?”
“You’ll need to pay for meals, won’t you?”
“You know how much this liquor costs.”
“Ahhh, is there more?”
“Of course.”
“Goodness, please stay as long as you’d like!”
Dokgo Myeong looked at Gwak Dae-ryong and silently extended his cup.
The cups clinked together with a clear ring.

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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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