Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 163

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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 163
The moment Dokgo Myeong attempted to leap forward.
Ye-hwa reached out her hand to stop him.
“It’s dangerous….”
But Ye-hwa’s hand only sliced through empty air. By the time she thought he was jumping, Dokgo Myeong had already soared into the mist.
It was when Ye-hwa turned to look at her companions with a startled expression.
“Tsk! Another episode, this one.”
Dokgo Ak dodged a hidden projectile that suddenly burst from the mist with just a tilt of his head, clicking his tongue.
“Leave him be. We have more pressing matters right now. Sohwa! Behind there!”
Namgung Sohwa grabbed Dokgo Ak by the nape of his neck and brought her blade down.
Though nothing was visible, the sound of something crashing down echoed from within the mist.
“My, thank you.”
“Just focus on our task.”
“You two, move aside. There’s a trap ahead.”
Whoosh! Crash!
When Cheolmu-baek brought his axe down upon empty space, something exploded and scattered.
After advancing a few more steps, the mist parted slightly, revealing it had been an obstacle created by the assassins.
‘What is this?’
Ye-hwa stared blankly at the three of them deflecting projectiles.
Something felt wrong.
No matter how strong Dokgo Myeong was, how could he be so composed about this?
It didn’t just feel like a lack of concern—it felt like indifference.
“Can you see beyond the mist?”
“I can’t see it, but I can sense it. Roughly, anyway.”
“I can’t sense anything even two zhang away from here.”
“I’ll take the lead. Let’s break through quickly.”
When no more talk of Dokgo Myeong came up, Ye-hwa felt bewilderment wash over her.
But at that moment, Geum Seok-du opened his mouth with a knowing smile.
“There’s no need to worry. Just watch.”
“Pardon?”
“Our young master is far more remarkable than you think. You just need to trust him.”
Ye-hwa’s eyes turned toward somewhere within the mist.
* * *
The moment Dokgo Myeong landed atop the narrow gorge.
Countless assassins turned their bowstrings, which had been aimed down into the gorge, toward Dokgo Myeong.
“Shall we begin?”
With words as light as if he were simply taking a stroll, Dokgo Myeong took a step forward.
Whoooosh!
In an instant, a sensation as if he had plunged into deep water enveloped Dokgo Myeong.
The sounds around him stretched like echoes, and everything in his vision slowed to a crawl.
As he landed, the dust particles that had been kicked up froze suspended in mid-air. The assassins also stiffened awkwardly, like figures in a third-rate painting.
The corners of Dokgo Myeong’s mouth rose slowly.
‘I’ve entered it.’
The realm of ascension—a sight only the greatest masters at the pinnacle of Gangho could perceive.
In that dulled world, countless threads stretched forth.
Dokgo Myeong turned his eyes slowly to see the ends of the threads clinging to his body.
At the ends of those threads were countless iron arrows flying in like rolling waves.
Dokgo Myeong straightened the fingers of both hands that had been clenched into fists and extended them toward those threads.
At the same moment, time resumed its flow.
Thud! Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
“…!”
The Sect Leader of Milmilgok couldn’t believe his eyes.
Dozens of iron arrows fired using the Milgok secret technique, the Underking Bow Method.
Those arrows, imbued with power enough to reduce an entire mansion to dust, were being ‘sliced’ by mere hand-blade strikes and falling to the ground.
‘Direct confrontation is impossible. I must flee.’
Maintaining the formation, directing the encirclement, engaging the enemy who had leaped forward—it all meant nothing.
The Sect Leader, having made his judgment in an instant, turned his body.
“Block…!”
Before he could even finish saying “understood,” Dokgo Myeong’s feet pushed against the ground.
In that instant, Dokgo Myeong’s figure, which had been at a distance, appeared right before his eyes.
Clang!
The four Milgok Guards who served as his escort spun around and swung their swords.
Two from the left and right sides, the remaining two at the upper and lower body. It was a sword strike executed without the slightest error, as if they had practiced this scenario countless times.
Boom!
Dokgo Myeong crossed his forearms and thrust forward, striking a palm seal.
It was not a palm strike that dispersed force outward. The power of that strike was contained entirely within his body.
Seonghcheon Technique—Immovable Conclusion.
The Silver Cold Wall following Unwavering Stance.
Crack!
All four swords shattered like pottery.
The guards holding the swords fared no better.
Crash! Bang! Thud! Crunch!
With different impact sounds, four people became four corpses and collapsed to the ground.
Immediately after, all the assassins nearby swarmed toward Dokgo Myeong.
Boom! Clang-clang!
The Sect Leader, who had been fleeing in panic, glanced back and his mouth fell open in shock.
Crash!
With the explosive sound, the assassins were being launched into the air.
The assassins couldn’t withstand even a single strike. When iron weapons met Dokgo Myeong’s limbs, they either bent like taffy or shattered like glass.
Exploiting numerical advantage was meaningless. He demonstrated a divine technique, catching hidden weapons fired at his back in mid-air and returning them.
Bare-handed combat had no weaknesses either. In fact, it wasn’t bare-handed at all. He casually seized whatever weapons lay at hand and wielded them with the mastery of an expert who had trained his entire life with those very arms.
The Sect Leader’s brow furrowed for a moment.
Their eyes met. Even amid the chaos of battle, those pitch-black pupils were fixed precisely upon him.
‘This is truly excessive.’
Frontal combat was never the assassin’s domain to begin with, but was this even acceptable?
Arrows and throwing blades were at least finding gaps and landing effective strikes, but they fell short of piercing through.
The Sect Leader suddenly drew a deep breath and issued a sharp command.
“Disperse! Regroup at the Golden Pavilion and the Great Hero Hall!”
His resonant voice echoed through the mountain gorge.
It felt like the lion’s roar of Buddhist sound technique, yet its nature was far more sinister.
“Who gave you permission? When did I ever say you could leave?”
Dokgo Myeong stamped the ground, his eyes flickering with murderous intent.
No—he lifted his head mid-stomp as a rain of arrows dense enough to blot out the sky poured down upon him.
Boom! Crack-crack-crack-boom!
Smoke bombs and explosives bound to the arrows detonated, filling the space with chaos.
Acrid smoke mingled with a pungent odor. It was poison.
Thunk! Tap-tap!
Dokgo Myeong, his mouth covered with dragon-scale armor, leaped backward in a single bound.
By then, the assassins were already rapidly disappearing up the gorge toward some distant destination.
“Their retreat looks no different from cockroaches scurrying away.”
Dokgo Myeong let out a scoff, watching their retreating figures.
That was when it happened.
“Young Master!”
“Sohwa!”
“Are you unharmed!”
Voices called out from below the gorge.
* * *
At the far end of the gorge, in the heart of the basin—the stronghold of Milmilgok.
The Sect Leader and his assassins gathered swiftly in a place that resembled a temple more than an assassin’s den.
“Lock the iron gates. Spread poison along the walls and passages.”
The connection between the basin and the gorge was extremely narrow.
It was roughly five zhang in width, and Milmilgok had erected a massive iron gate here to form an entrance.
“Sect Leader. Are you unharmed?”
A taciturn man approached the Sect Leader’s side and spoke.
The Sect Leader acknowledged him with a glance.
“Top Assassin. I’m fine.”
He was the Top Assassin of Milmilgok and the First among them.
Just as the Sect Leader had no name, neither did he. He was addressed only as First or Top Assassin.
“I miscalculated. How could he have broken through the formation? He didn’t even employ the Crimson Bow Hundred Strikes, and his martial arts didn’t resemble those of the Dharma Sect either.”
“He may have possessed a dharma treasure of such caliber in his hands.”
“Well, regardless, the losses have been substantial.”
Dozens of people had died and been wounded, yet that was the entirety of his sentiment on the matter.
The Top Assassin asked.
“What should be done?”
“What would you have me do?”
At his sudden counter-question, the Top Assassin blinked like a broken mechanism before belatedly responding.
“What answer would you have me give?”
“Mm.”
The Sect Leader nodded with satisfaction.
“Precisely. Only by being unable to answer can one truly be called an assassin. Are we not bound by inevitable death? Death, after all, speaks no words.”
“….”
“Yet why did that deserter resist the teachings? The previous Sect Leader could not have created a defective work. Truly, it is a mystery. A mystery indeed. A most perplexing mystery.”
As the Sect Leader repeated himself, assassins arranged in perfect rows appeared ghost-like near the entrance.
The Sect Leader, hands clasped behind his back, surveyed them and spoke.
“I follow the way of the sect, and the sect’s descendants follow me. We are many yet one….”
“….”
“Though the losses are grievous, once we recover the Crimson Palace Hundred and the Child, all shall be restored. Fortunately, it seems he desires our heads, so if we simply recover the targets, victory shall be ours.”
“Yes.”
“Summon the patrons as well.”
At the Sect Leader’s words, the assassin at the front of the formation questioned back.
“The patrons, sir?”
The Sect Leader tilted his head.
“Who just spoke?”
“No. 210.”
“Was this your first real combat since the two-hundred rank?”
“Yes, it was.”
“I see. Is there anyone else with questions?”
The assembly fell silent.
“None.”
The Sect Leader nodded and gazed upon No. 210.
“Then take your own life, No. 210.”
The assassin’s eyes widened ever so slightly.
“Why, sir?”
“Because you are you. Since you seem reluctant, No. 209 shall send you on your way instead.”
Splurch!
Before the words had even finished, the sound of flesh tearing echoed.
No. 210 collapsed, and No. 211 took his place.
“Now then, bring all the patrons first… From what I’ve heard, this young man called Dokgo Myeong possesses the bearing of a hero, so the novice monks may prove useful as well.”
“Yes.”
“Then let us make haste.”
* * *
“We can call the first round our victory.”
Dokgo Myeong spoke with arrogance as he tumbled deeper into the narrow gorge.
The group quickly surrounded Dokgo Myeong.
“You look fine?”
“Seems like it.”
“Your pupils look a bit bigger?”
“Really? Let me see.”
The group grabbed Dokgo Myeong’s face as if kneading dough and examined it from every angle.
Dokgo Myeong’s brow furrowed sharply.
“What are you all doing?”
“Last time when you faced the assassin, something seemed off with you, so we were checking if it happened again.”
Namgung Sohwa lowered her hand from Dokgo Myeong’s chin and smiled wickedly.
Dokgo Myeong let out a hollow laugh.
“I’m fine, you all.”
“Then that’s settled.”
“I’m fine for now.”
Dokgo Myeong exhaled sharply.
Didn’t I know better than anyone how the Gangho had become this way?
The frustration certainly remained.
But as my martial prowess advanced, as I met this group, drank with Senior Baek, reunited with Brother Gok, and spent time with Ye-hwa.
It seemed these five people here had become my sanctuary.
The problem was.
‘When my eyes went wild and I destroyed everything, it wasn’t so much from the demonic hindrance but from that mysterious energy it caused.’
That reversed true energy that sprayed its dark, murky color like ink.
The demonic affliction had intensified because of that energy.
Around then, Dokgo Ak asked.
“So, brother, what now?”
“As I said, we proceed with the plan.”
“Then I’ll take the lead.”
Cheolmu-baek slung his axe over his shoulder and marched forward, with the group following behind once more.
Dokgo Myeong waited for Ye-hwa, who was following behind, and spoke to her.
“You’re really different from them.”
“Pardon?”
“The assassins. Now it seems you and they are different, doesn’t it?”
“…!”
“To my eyes, those men were like ants. They just did what their leader commanded, and even in death, they wouldn’t make a sound. But you—if someone gave you money and asked you to kill someone, could you draw the bowstring?”
Ye-hwa shook her head firmly.
After hesitating for a moment, Ye-hwa asked.
“Why are you so forthright?”
“What?”
“Martial contests, real combat, serving the sect… even murder.”
Dokgo Myeong closed his mouth flatly and spoke.
“I just do what I want to do.”
“…Yes?”
“Ugh, really. Did you actually expect an answer like that?”
At that moment, Namgung Sohwa, who was within earshot of the conversation, interjected with a tone of exasperation.
Dokgo Myeong chuckled and gestured with his chin.
“That cunning older sister will give you a better answer to your question.”
Namgung Sohwa glanced at Ye-hwa.
“Because it is what I have decided.”
“Yes?”
“When one has made a decision, one looks only at that without casting sidelong glances.”
“Do you not regret that?”
“Of course not yet, but perhaps someday I might.”
“Then why…”
“If I take responsibility, it does not matter.”
Ye-hwa’s eyes widened.
“Life in Gangho is one where you might die tomorrow. I am too busy living only by what I have decided. Where would I find time to look back?”
Namgung Sohwa glanced at Ye-hwa.
“Do not ask anyone how to live. The choice is yours to make.”
Her tone was resolute, unlike her usual gentle manner toward Ye-hwa.
Dokgo Myeong nodded.
“Listen well.”
“…”
“That is a true martial artist, a true denizen of Gangho. My leash can only be held by myself.”
Ye-hwa’s gaze fixed on Namgung Sohwa’s back.
“But my beginning is different from theirs. I have no path to choose.”
The sound of Namgung Sohwa’s soft laughter was heard.
Since she was walking ahead, her face was not visible, but the laughter carried a note of self-mockery.
“Do you think I was any different?”
“…!”
“Perhaps we all had different circumstances, but we were all the same. I say again—the choice is yours to make.”
And so the group pressed forward.
Deflecting arrows launched by mechanical devices.
Holding their breath against poison flowing with the river current.
Covering their ears against the sound of a flute drifting from somewhere.
As the path grew narrower and soon a massive iron gate came into view in the distance.
“Watch. See what we do.”

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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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