Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 200

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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 200
“The Heavenly Prison…?”
The news that reached the Outer Hall soon made its way to the ears of the Elder Council Leader.
Dokgo Hwi-hwa’s brow furrowed.
“What charges were they?”
“He confessed to crimes similar to those we intended to press against him at the Hundred Pavilion Assembly and requested punishment.”
“The Judge threw him into the Heavenly Prison for merely that? And for only a month at that….”
Shin Heum cautiously opened his mouth.
“Perhaps it’s better to take the beating first. Since his limbs are already bound, he may have moved preemptively to reduce his sentence?”
Originally, the plan devised by the Outer Hall faction and the Elder faction was to wait until the Hundred Pavilion Assembly to hold Dokgo Myeong accountable. The more pavilion masters who spoke out against him, the heavier his crimes would become.
But now that he had voluntarily confessed and entered the Heavenly Prison, the matter could not be revisited. Shin Heum was suggesting that Dokgo Myeong might have aimed for precisely this atmosphere.
Dokgo Hwi-hwa shook her head.
“That’s not it.”
“….”
“In a month, the Assembly will be over. If he were a petty man without ambition, concerned only with his own skin….”
Dokgo Myeong was certainly not one who could be called petty.
Dokgo Hwi-hwa clicked her tongue.
‘This one’s causing trouble too. Or was he always like this?’
Dokgo Hwi-hwa’s concerns deepened.
The movements of the Outer Hall were already complex enough to drive her mad, and now Dokgo Myeong had committed this inexplicable rash act.
“The deepest part of the Heavenly Prison… Is there perhaps someone already confined there?”
“If you suspect he’s searching for an escape route in the Heavenly Prison, that’s unlikely. He could simply visit without going in himself.”
Shin Heum paused briefly before continuing.
“Alliance Leader, there is one more thing I must report.”
“Speak.”
“…The Outer Hall Master sought out Dokgo Myeong immediately upon hearing the news and had a private meeting with him for about half a quarter hour.”
“That bastard?”
“The Outer Hall side specifically sent word that there was truly nothing significant discussed.”
“If they say there was nothing significant, then there’s absolutely something significant. Look at this cunning fellow! Tsk tsk!”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa suddenly smiled, speaking as if amused.
“What do you make of it, Shin Heum?”
“It’s likely a bluff.”
“A bluff?”
“Pretending to have something while inducing the opponent’s carelessness.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa nodded.
“What else?”
“Either he has a certain justification to escape the Heavenly Prison and protect his faction, or….”
“He’s joined hands with the Outer Hall.”
“….”
Shin Heum fell silent before speaking.
“What will you do?”
“What do you think I’ll do?”
Shin Heum smiled broadly.
“As the Alliance Leader, you would never tolerate being dragged around.”
“That’s right. It’s terribly unsettling.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa’s eyes flashed with intensity.
“I’ll overturn the board entirely.”
* * *
Though people often described Sa Heon-gak’s atmosphere as serene, the word “desolate” would have suited it better. Above all, with only Jang Sam as a servant, the entire place felt dreary.
But that was now a thing of the past.
Sa Heon-gak had begun to carry the scent of human life, no different from any other pavilion now.
‘…The scent of human life?’
Jang Sam paused to reconsider his own thoughts.
‘Is it really the scent of human life?’
Jang Sam’s expression grew troubled.
Before his eyes, the training grounds behind Sa Heon-gak were an absolute mess.
Boom! Crash!
A deafening explosion erupted as if the world itself were being swept away, and a man who looked like a wild bear went flying and crashed into the ground.
“Gahhhhh!”
What a scream that was.
Cheolmu-baek, the man embedded in the earth, sprang up and spoke.
“Huff, huff… Master Seo! Truly remarkable. You are indeed as strong as expected!”
“You’re no slouch yourself. In terms of pure physical movement, you seem to excel even more.”
“I still have far to go. Again… I’ll go again.”
The way he exhaled sharply and rose resembled an enraged bull.
“Why not rest a moment? You look quite exhausted…”
“If I grow weaker than expected!”
Cheolmu-baek’s eyes burned with fierce determination.
“That demon will torment me!”
A demon?
Could he possibly be referring to the young master?
His voice was so filled with malice that it carried an almost solemn resolve.
“…”
Jang Sam quietly shifted his gaze toward the corner of the training grounds.
“Huff! Huff! Wheeze!”
There stood Dokgo Ak, a young man whose face was flushed red as he made strange breathing sounds.
Clang! Clatter!
Metallic sounds rang out with his every movement—the sound of him wielding an iron staff and a pouch of iron powder that had once belonged to Dokgo Myeong.
‘What is this?’
Jang Sam’s expression grew even more troubled.
Where has the dignity of the Dragon Blood Clan gone?
Moreover.
“Krraaagh! One more! Kraaaaaaagh!”
He was screaming—whether it was a shriek or a battle cry, I couldn’t tell—while hoisting the metal weight above his head.
Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Kuuuuung!
‘Gasp! Is he dead?’
As he crashed backward with a thunderous sound, everyone around him turned to look.
But soon, with a cough, he got back up, and they all turned away as if nothing had happened.
“Huff, huff… I heard it. I heard it. Next… there’s still time left…”
Jang Sam felt bewildered.
‘How did Sa Heon-gak end up like this?’
It wasn’t like this when the White Tiger Brigade first arrived.
Just five more people added to the group—what on earth was happening?
“Aaaaagh!”
Another scream rang out. This time from the annex, not the training grounds.
Jang Sam hurried to the window and peered into the room.
“This doesn’t work either? Why doesn’t it work? Geum Seok-du, you idiot! I’m an idiot, an idiot…!”
Geum Seok-du sat with vacant eyes, trembling both legs while muttering something.
Smack!
Then he suddenly slapped himself several times across the face—or was it his mouth?—and his eyes blazed with intensity.
“No! I’m not an idiot! I can do this. I can do this. I can do this!”
“…”
“Let’s see who dies first—you or me! I am Geum Seok-du, the prized disciple of Manpaknoesa!”
Surrounded by countless books, Geum Seok-du shouted as if facing a life-or-death battle right before his eyes, frantically wielding his brush.
I’d heard it was the elixir refinement method of spirit medicine… but was it supposed to be done to such an extreme?
‘What is this? A demon’s den?’
Just as Jang Sam was about to back away quietly.
“Be careful.”
“Oh my! You startled me!”
Jang Sam jumped in fright at the sudden voice from above his head.
Soon after, something appeared from behind like a ghost, without a sound.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I apologize. There’s a trap set up in the back.”
A young girl bowed respectfully to her waist and greeted him.
“A, a trap?”
Looking closely, he could see a single thin thread like a spider’s web stretched across the entrance.
But why would there be a trap at the entrance to the training grounds?
“More importantly, where did Manager Gwak suddenly appear from?”
“I was on the main beam.”
“But why…”
“It’s training.”
Why are you training on top of a beam?
Jang Sam swallowed the question that was about to burst out. Truth be told, he didn’t really want to know.
“I, I understand.”
“But what brings you here?”
“I have news to report. I came thinking the Sect Leader would be here, but….”
Ye-hwa nodded calmly.
“The Sect Leader is not here, but rather at the front of the annex building.”
The annex of Sa Heon-gak had one side facing the training grounds and the other side facing the front courtyard.
“Why there?”
“He’s likely teaching Sohwa sword techniques. Well then, I’ll be going.”
“Ah, I see… Wait, what?”
Ye-hwa suddenly vanished like a mirage.
Jang Sam blinked his eyes several times before hurrying toward the annex like he was fleeing.
Upon reaching the front courtyard, Namgung Sohwa and Dokgo Hwi-hwa stood facing each other.
Swish! Clack! Thwack!
The two were clashing wooden swords.
Dokgo Hwi-hwa, having lightly deflected Namgung Sohwa’s wooden sword with the flat of her blade, shook her head.
“You’re being too hasty.”
“Is, is that so?”
“Yes, it seems you’ve been influenced by Myeong-i.”
“Ah… That might be the case.”
“The Unnamed Sword Technique rightly pursues practical application, but the Namgung family’s swordsmanship itself is orthodox martial learning. You should aim to implement the principles of martial arts precisely.”
“…Precisely implement the principles.”
“Yes, try again. While recalling the fundamentals of intermediate sword techniques.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa, firm yet methodical, imparted her teachings to her junior.
Namgung Sohwa, though struggling, earnestly accepted the instruction.
It was a scene as if painted by an artist—the very image of martial artists.
‘Yes, this is how it should be.’
Jang Sam felt his heart ease, and he released a sigh of relief.
“Hmm?”
Soon after discovering Jang Sam, Dokgo Hwi-hwa opened her mouth while holding her wooden sword upside down.
“Servant Jang. What is the matter?”
Jang Sam suddenly came to his senses and spoke.
“Ah! That is, Sect Leader. Someone from the Inner Hall Overseer’s office just came.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa’s eyes narrowed.
“The Overseer’s office, you say?”
“They left this behind.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa accepted the paper that Jang Sam offered.
It was a letter regarding the Baek Gak Conference to be held four days hence.
While Dokgo Wi-hak read the letter, Jang Sam fell back into his usual habit of worrying.
“…Sect Leader. Will it be alright?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that Young Master has entered the Prison Tower.”
Though Dokgo Myeong now had many people by his side, Jang Sam still could not stop his concerns.
And though he didn’t show it, Dokgo Wi-hak was not much different.
‘I’ve already heard the rough outline of the plan.’
As always, there were rough edges to the plans Dokgo Myeong devised.
Put kindly, he read his opponent’s psychology and crafted his strategy, but put harshly, he relied on luck.
‘Until now things have unfolded as planned… but ultimately this time too, Myeong-i holds no cards and is essentially committing fraud.’
In the end, if the Elder Council Leader does not respond, this entire affair becomes Dokgo Myeong’s own undoing.
From the start, Dokgo Myeong’s target was the Elder Council Leader, and all the plans only come to completion if she moves….
“There’s still been no response… I wonder if he’s managing well in the Prison Tower.”
Dokgo Wi-hak folded the letter neatly and released a short sigh.
Then, Namgung Sohwa, who had approached from the side, opened her mouth.
“Don’t worry too much. It will be fine.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Dokgo Myeong I’ve observed has always remained composed no matter where he is. If his plan seemed to go awry, he would have already prepared his next move.”
Namgung Sohwa smiled with a knowing grin.
“I’d wager he’s spending his time cultivating in the Prison Tower right now.”
* * *
Namgung Sohwa’s words proved exactly accurate.
Inside the dimly lit Prison Tower.
The darkness, so thick that even shapes were indiscernible, evoked only a sense of bottomless depth.
There, Dokgo Myeong stood in the horse stance with thick iron shackles binding both wrists and chains binding his ankles.
Whoosh!
In an instant, his left foot glided smoothly across the ground as he advanced. Naturally, his rear foot became the pivot, rotating to generate rotational force through his body.
Then his extended arm followed, and with an exhale, a single punch extended forth.
Clang! Boom!
An utterly serene punch.
This was cultivation focused on form and posture rather than power. It was worlds apart from his usual pursuit of extreme practicality and dynamic movement.
‘So that was it.’
In the darkness, Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed with light.
‘There really was a problem. Fundamentals—I was lacking in fundamentals.’
Dokgo Myeong drew his extended arm back, then slowly brought his hand edge down in a diagonal strike.
Swish!
The Flame Heaven Strike, the Flame Seal Palm.
One of the techniques from his preferred martial art.
‘No. The Flame Heaven Strike must be more violent. Straight and sharp like drawing a sword. Lower the shoulder by about one to two inches….’
Swish!
The sound changed immediately.
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes widened, then he shifted his stance once more and continued his assault.
‘Straight into the Gak Method.’
Whoosh! Boom!
The chains sang as his feet cut through the empty air.
‘True Gak first, then transition to Jecheon-gi.’
With my inner energy suppressed, I could focus more intently on the fundamentals.
Starting from the Horse Stance, moving through True Gak, Foot Technique, the technical deployment of each secret realm, and the adjustment of posture.
Dokgo Myeong moved methodically, like someone learning martial arts for the first time.
‘My current weakness is the need for transitions between each secret realm. Until I obtain the next realm, this is unavoidable.’
An unavoidable weakness. A martial art without weaknesses has no strengths either—the Heavenly Exterior Realm had gained extremity in exchange.
Yet as Dokgo Wi-hak had said, the answer lay in the fundamentals.
‘The gaps in transitions occur because I’ve focused on single strikes.’
Each martial technique of the Heavenly Exterior Realm is divided not by forms, but by movements and techniques. This is because it pursues practical combat effectiveness.
As a result, I lost the seamless connection of flowing movements, but…
‘Must I necessarily lose it?’
The gaps in transitions—those are unavoidable.
But must the insufficient connections also be unavoidable?
‘Once I learn how, isn’t that enough?’
Dokgo Myeong had poured all his strength into each strike, fighting with a focus on instant kills. It was less like wielding a sword and more like lifting a massive hammer, throwing his body forward to drive devastating blows home.
Was that a problem?
It was not.
There was no need to abandon it.
I simply needed to open a new domain.
‘To make movements connect, I need to conserve power. Naturally, the impact will decrease, but there will be momentum to carry into the next movement.’
Dokgo Myeong’s movements began to flow together more smoothly.
One might say that training while suppressing inner energy is meaningless, but that is not so.
The realm of unity between essence, energy, and spirit was precisely such a domain. The refinement of body and mind affects one’s qi as well. Moreover, it is the ability to perfectly manifest in the body what one thinks.
Whoosh! Huff!
Dokgo Myeong’s movements grew increasingly refined.
At some point, the passage of time became difficult to perceive.
The groans of the prisoners faded away, and worries about the outside world were forgotten.
It was a hazy time, as if drunk on sleep.
In between, I ate meals, slept, and meditated, yet all these acts felt as though they were connected to martial arts.
With a sensation of sinking into the depths of darkness, I continued training in this manner.
And then, in an instant.
Boom! Crash!
Dokgo Myeong extended a fist toward the prison’s iron bars after True Gak.
A gust of wind rushed past the bars.
Someone was standing there.
“What peace of mind you must have, training all the way out here?”
Dokgo Myeong caught his breath roughly, then let out a sharp laugh.
“Welcome, Elder Council Leader.”
“Tsk tsk, it has been quite some time.”
The unexpected visitor was none other than Dokgo Hwi-hwa.
At last, the big fish had taken the bait.

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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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