Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 168

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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 168
After parting ways with Gwak Dae-ryong once more, Dokgo Myeong and his companions settled into seats at an upscale tavern.
Having always frequented modest inns, the atmosphere of a high-class establishment felt refreshingly different. They had never been short on funds, but they were now spending freely from the money recovered at Milmilgok.
“Are we really allowed to spend this money?”
Namgung Sohwa’s expression was slightly uncomfortable.
Dokgo Myeong let out a soft chuckle.
“What, does it feel dirty to you?”
“…It literally is dirty money.”
“Ah, you’re so rigid. If you think about it, you’re the most old-fashioned among us. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s true enough.”
“There is some truth to that.”
Sharpness flashed across her eyes.
At the group’s response, Namgung Sohwa’s eyes narrowed into a glare so piercing that everyone instinctively averted their gaze.
Only Ye-hwa stayed close beside Namgung Sohwa, speaking in a bright, earnest voice.
“I think it’s righteous and admirable.”
Namgung Sohwa’s expression softened. She smiled and gently stroked Ye-hwa’s hair.
“That’s right, only our Ye-hwa understands. What would those troublemakers know?”
“Yes.”
The other companions exchanged bewildered glances, wondering when these two had become so close.
Dokgo Myeong cleared his throat and spoke up.
“In any case… it may be dirty money, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t use it. If we take money made through corruption and use it righteously, isn’t that more meaningful?”
“I suppose that’s true. But…”
Namgung Sohwa’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Is drinking at a high-class tavern considered righteous?”
“Sigh, you really do nag.”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled and filled everyone’s cups with wine.
At the end, Ye-hwa subtly extended her cup as well.
“You’re too young to drink. What are you thinking?”
“…”
Ye-hwa poured tea with a slightly dejected expression.
Soon everyone had their cups before them, sipping wine or tea.
Back in the Chammatdae days, they had gathered like this whenever something significant happened. Sometimes to remember or celebrate, sometimes to forget or mourn.
This time was the former.
“Want to try this? It’s really good.”
“Try this too. It’s delicious.”
“I can manage on my own. I’m not a child.”
The group doted on Ye-hwa, the youngest among them, as if she were truly a little one.
Though Ye-hwa hadn’t drunk any wine, her face had flushed slightly as she held her own against them.
As the mood grew pleasantly warm, Dokgo Myeong began to speak.
“Now that Ye-hwa has finally made her resolve, I believe we are truly united as one. What do you all think?”
The five of them had been chattering away when they all turned their gaze toward Dokgo Myeong.
“Come now, fill the cups. You, little one, stick to tea.”
Dokgo Myeong cleared his throat once and continued speaking.
“We are rebels who have gathered here because we are dissatisfied with the current martial world and wish to overturn it entirely. I welcome Ye-hwa, who has now become one of our number.”
They all drained their cups in one go and refilled them.
Cheolmu-baek asked.
“Are we truly the end of it?”
“Not quite. We are insufficient as we are. From my own experience, to stand against the entire world, one needs many hands and minds.”
“Then?”
“You all are, in other words….”
Dokgo Myeong looked at his companions in turn, starting with Geum Seok-du.
“My right arm and leg, my left arm and leg, and people who are like my head or my heart.”
“….”
“I cannot lead all the rebels who will gather under me alone going forward. You will serve as my lieutenants and lead them. This will also aid each of you in achieving your own goals.”
The companions nodded, some with worried expressions, others with gleaming eyes.
Dokgo Myeong continued.
“Now our gathering of rebels dreaming of seizing the world has truly begun. We have already discussed much among ourselves, but I thought we should speak of it formally here. First….”
Dokgo Myeong pointed to Dokgo Ak.
“Me?”
“A fortunate fellow born into a great household.”
“What?”
“Yet he wishes to live as a true human and cast aside all those privileges. A madman. Have you lost your mind?”
Dokgo Ak’s face flushed slightly with embarrassment, while the others chuckled softly.
“Next is Seok-du.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Ordinarily, commoners who have not learned martial arts are tormented by martial artists—it is the daily reality of the martial world. Yet he dislikes this and wishes to establish a sect. A sect for the weak, no less—the entire world would mock such a thing.”
“Well, that is certainly true.”
Geum Seok-du grinned widely.
One who dreams of opening the second generation—Geum Seok-du, indeed.
“As for Sohwa, she is a greedy one—dreaming of becoming the greatest swordsman under heaven, avenging herself against Moyong, and rebuilding her household. Everyone else seeks to live at ease, yet she deliberately walks a thorny path.”
To become the greatest swordsman under heaven means to defeat all senior swordsmen.
Moreover, she has rejected even her father’s dying wish to forget revenge and rebuilding and find happiness instead. Truly a rebel who has lost her mind.
That is why she is the most warrior-like among us—Namgung Sohwa.
“Mu-baek is like a wandering wolf. A lonely man searching for a place to belong.”
“….”
“That is why he seeks to become strong. He believes that once he is strong, he himself will become a shadow. And people gather in shadows. He is the most man-like among us.”
Cheolmu-baek’s eyes widened as if struck at a vital point.
Everyone looked at him, and though Cheolmu-baek was flustered, he did not deny it.
“Finally, Ye-hwa. This child refuses the legacy of the Secret Teachings and the Assassins’ Valley, and vows to shatter such shackles. To reject one’s fate itself. This little one carries the grandest tale among all of us.”
“….”
Ye-hwa sipped her tea quietly.
…But wait, is that little one even drinking tea properly? Why is her face so flushed?
Then Geum Seok-du opened his mouth.
“And surely our lord is the true rebel who encompasses us all, is he not?”
Everyone burst into loud laughter.
Geum Seok-du seemed delighted that his joke had landed, and he chuckled along with Dokgo Myeong, his shoulders shaking with mirth.
When Dokgo Myeong drained his cup in one gulp with an embarrassed expression, everyone followed suit and emptied their cups.
“In any case… now that we’ve gathered like this, I thought it was time we properly decided on our name.”
Everyone’s eyes gleamed with new intensity.
Namgung Sohwa asked in a slightly excited voice.
“Are we finally deciding on a name?”
“Hm?”
“You’ve always glossed over it vaguely without properly settling on one. You said we were a martial band, didn’t you?”
Her words were exactly right.
Dokgo Myeong had spoken of them as his close friends, as a martial band, as a gathering—but had never revealed the name.
This gathering needed Dokgo Myeong to decide its name.
Because he was the one who had saved and gathered them all.
“In truth, the name has already been decided.”
“It has?”
“What name is it?”
Dokgo Myeong exhaled a long breath.
The name was already decided. How could it be anything else?
Dokgo Myeong spoke in a voice that seemed somehow distant.
“The Demon-Slaying Band.”
It was a name he had finally spoken aloud after turning over an entire lifetime in his mind.
In his past life, it had been the designation for a ragtag unit he had gathered to serve as cannon fodder, but it would not be so now.
Dokgo Myeong intended to make it something different.
“A band that slays demons?”
“Why must the name be so fierce?”
“There are so many better names….”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled and spoke.
“But this is the only name that can bind us who have gathered together.”
Then Namgung Sohwa, her intoxication rising, spoke in a slightly looser voice.
“Well, I don’t think it’s bad.”
“Hm?”
“This world seems like something’s gone wrong with it. Those things are like demons, aren’t they? So we’ll cut them all down. The Demon-Slaying Band, the Demon-Slaying Band. Isn’t that right?”
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes widened as wide as lanterns as he stared at Namgung Sohwa.
As the saying goes, the interpretation matters more than the dream itself. He hadn’t thought it through carefully, but if it could be understood that way, then so be it.
“Correct! I knew Sohwa would understand my meaning!”
“What? I felt something strange just now?”
Namgung Sohwa furrowed her brow and tilted her head, while everyone’s eyes gleamed with interest.
“So either way, we’re becoming members of this Chamma Brigade?”
“That’s right.”
In that instant, Geum Seok-du sprang to his feet and swept his gaze across the group.
“Then everyone should offer your greetings. I’ll go first.”
Suddenly Geum Seok-du grasped a cup with both hands and extended it as he spoke.
“I am Seok-du of the Geum family from Zhejiang. I have the honor of meeting the Chamma Brigade Master. I swear that I shall serve with all my heart and dedication, however humble my talents may be.”
The atmosphere fell silent in an instant.
Everyone stared at Geum Seok-du in astonishment, but he did not stop and completed his formal bow.
Dokgo Myeong refrained from his usual jokes, and the others rose in turn to follow.
“I am Ak of the Dokgo family from Hunan. I meet my elder brother and Chamma Brigade Master. I shall learn much and follow faithfully.”
“I am Sohwa of the Namgung family from Anhui. I offer my greetings to the Chamma Brigade Master.”
“I have no parents to speak of, so there is little to introduce. I am Cheolmu-baek from the steppes, and I shall serve Dokgo Myeong as both sworn brother and liege lord.”
“I am Ye-hwa of the Gwak family, heir to Salgok. I shall study diligently and follow with earnest devotion.”
Dokgo Myeong also raised his cup with both hands.
“I am Myeong of the Dokgo family. I pledge that I shall never forget the promises we have made to one another, even unto death. I entrust my back to all of you.”
This was the secret language of the Chamma Brigade. It felt different from the ordinary words of trust spoken anywhere else.
The Chamma Brigade had always entrusted their backs to one another from ancient times—so that if paths diverged, they could cut each other down without hesitation.
Would this current Chamma Brigade understand such meaning?
There was no way to know, and it mattered not.
This was my own vow, after all.
“Now my goals are your goals, and your goals are my goals. We are the greatest rebels under heaven. Let us overturn and shatter this suffocating martial world. A beautiful future, a bright tomorrow awaits us. We are the Chamma Brigade. Come now, everyone drain your cups!”
The Chamma Brigade’s officers exhaled in unison.
“It seems the serious atmosphere never lasts to the end.”
“Truly, that’s just how he is.”
“I look forward to working with you.”
“Do try to be reasonable about it.”
“I’m holding tea, though.”
True to form for rebels, their responses were anything but unified.
Regardless, Dokgo Myeong drained his cup in one gulp and shouted.
“The Chamma Brigade is formed!”
* * *
The martial world knows no days of peace.
All manner of incidents and accidents occur without fail, and strange, sourceless rumors flow like waves through the land, only to fade away—such is the martial world.
Yet at the same time, it was rare for the entire Central Plains to be thrown into upheaval.
Cross a single city and the language changes, the food differs, and even the customs vary—such is the nature of the Central Plains.
This was why even notorious villains could live well and prosper once they left their territories and erased their identities.
However, occasionally rumors would arise that refused to fade, growing stronger with each passing day.
Recently, the subject of such rumors was a certain young man.
“Have you heard any interesting stories lately? Do tell me something amusing.”
“There is, but that’s… *cough*!”
“Ah, don’t worry about the drinks. I’ll pay.”
“Good. So what shall we talk about? Say, do you know anything about Pae-ryong?”
“Pae-ryong? You mean that qilin of the Dokgo Household?”
“That’s the one. Apparently, he’s decided to set things right in the martial world and brought down five assassin sects. Rumor has it the descendants of Salgok were among them.”
“Come on! Isn’t he barely twenty-three years old? How could he possibly do that? Didn’t he just use his family’s power to build his reputation?”
“Not at all! He supposedly brought them down with just five companions!”
“Is that true?”
“Gaebang verified it! With a single strike, he shakes mountains and rivers, and when he shouts, even arrows bounce back…”
In the inn, rumors about Dokgo Myeong frequently became the topic of conversation.
But not all of it was favorable.
“Really? I heard he learned the demonic arts of Samawoe-do.”
“Ah yes, that’s right. I heard the same. Down in Zhejiang, they say there’s no villain more despicable than him.”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
“Apparently, he was originally notorious as a dullard. But after he learned demonic arts cultivated through human blood, he became absurdly powerful?”
Bad rumors always drew more attention than good ones.
The eyes of everyone gathered in the inn turned toward the goatee man who had brought up the demonic arts.
The goatee man spread malicious rumors circulating about Dokgo Myeong, then lowered his voice as if revealing an important secret.
“You all remember the murder case that happened in Dengyongji at the start of the year, don’t you? The one where two direct descendants of the Moyong Family were killed?”
“Ah yes, I remember!”
“They say Pae-ryong killed them in a fit of bloodlust.”
“Is that so?”
Then the thick-browed man interjected into the conversation.
“Wait, but isn’t Pae-ryong treated as a hero in the martial world of Anhui and Guizhou?”
The goatee man shook his head as if in pity.
“Think about it. Would a hero and paragon cut off someone’s head in the middle of a crowded inn?”
“Well…”
“Ah, were you going to mention the direct line of the Namgung Family? Has that even been proven?”
“…”
“There’s a reason the Dokgo Household hasn’t taken any action. And look at Moyong—the family head’s eldest son and his brother died, yet they’ve done nothing remarkable…”
The goatee man continued muttering slander about Dokgo Myeong, then laughed with a bitter edge.
“That bastard must be mad. There’s no other explanation for how he could stand against the great Moyong Family…”
“Wait. Are you from around here? I don’t recognize your face. Your accent sounds a bit like Zhejiang…”
“Does that matter?”
“Ah, I suppose not.”
The rumors continued to spread.
Public opinion in the martial world grew turbulent. The people’s sentiments swayed back and forth, unable to find direction. When the fire seemed to die, someone poured oil on it; when it wouldn’t catch, others deliberately fanned the flames.
Just as falsehood and truth, rumor and rumor, passed through the mouths of the masses,
“Everything’s ready.”
Ju Won-gwang came to find Dokgo Myeong.

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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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