Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 285

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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 285
The voices of Dokgo Myeong and Namgung Sohwa faded into the distance, mingling with the sound of horse hooves.
In the dead of night, there was no other presence to be heard. Thus the two of them departed swiftly.
Bang Jong-san suddenly furrowed his brow as if remembering something.
“Come to think of it, that clever junior left all the cleanup to me and just took off, didn’t he?”
Baek Mu-heun shook his head gently.
“I had already asked him to send word requesting that you oversee things for just two days.”
“Two days, you say?”
“He said he would dispatch people through the nearby Cheon I-gak branch. That’s likely another reason he departed so urgently today.”
Bang Jong-san’s eyes widened before he let out a soft laugh.
Such meticulous consideration hidden beneath a casual facade—no wonder people gathered beneath him.
“Baek Jang Mun.”
“Speak.”
“What did you make of him?”
Baek Mu-heun offered a subtle smile.
The pale moonlight descended upon his face.
“Indeed, there was reason for the Bangju to praise him so highly.”
“Ha, I knew you would appreciate him.”
“Appreciate… it was a somewhat different feeling, actually.”
“Different? What do you mean?”
Baek Mu-heun turned his gaze away.
The final wine cup that Dokgo Myeong had drained in one breath sat upon the table.
“That young man desired me to the very end, yet he did not trust me.”
“He did not trust you?”
“Indeed.”
His words, his eyes, his emotions…
He had attempted to conceal them, but failed. Though Dokgo Myeong had taken my hand, he never granted me his trust until the end.
“At first, I wondered if he was simply incapable of trusting people by nature, but that was not it.”
“What do you mean?”
“When he looked upon the Bangju and that young lady of the Namgung, his eyes were filled with deep trust—the kind that would persist even through betrayal.”
Baek Mu-heun found himself laughing at his own words, for they brought to mind something Dokgo Myeong had said.
That one keeps comrades at their back, not blades.
‘For a blade aimed at one’s back is never wielded by an enemy, but always by one’s own side.’
Truly, an extraordinary young man.
What exactly had he seen in me that warranted such caution?
‘And that martial art of his…’
Baek Mu-heun’s eyes narrowed.
‘No, it cannot be. Something was different about it. Most importantly, its predecessor could not yet appear in this world.’
Baek Mu-heun shook his head and spoke with a faint smile.
“It is not something to say before the Bangju, but it seems I have reached an age where it is difficult to handle such a young man.”
“Myeong-i has this peculiar habit of popping off at the mouth. Hehe.”
“He certainly does make things difficult.”
Even as I spoke, a subtle smile played at the corners of my lips.
I adjusted my posture and looked toward Bang Jong-san.
“By the way, I need to ask you for a favor, Master.”
“Speak.”
“I think we need to convene a gathering.”
“How many?”
“I’d prefer if everyone could attend.”
“….”
Bang Jong-san stared intently at me.
“What exactly did you discuss with my junior?”
I gazed at the Cheon-gang sword leaning beside me and let out a soft chuckle.
“He said not to let my guard down either.”
* * *
The next morning.
Dokgo Myeong was draped limply over his saddle, groaning.
“Ugh, my head… oh no….”
“….”
“I’m dying. Water, waaater… blech!”
“….”
Namgung Sohwa regarded Dokgo Myeong with cold eyes.
Even the horse she rode flinched with each of Dokgo Myeong’s dry heaves, as if worried its mane might get soiled.
“Can’t you just use your inner energy to disperse the poison?”
“After drinking such precious liquor? That’s something I could never say, even unto death!”
“I’d rather you just died!”
“You say things to your lord that you shouldn’t. Besides, give me some water. I think I’m going to be sick….”
At this rate, he might even cough up blood from his internal injuries.
Namgung Sohwa let out a deep sigh.
“Goodness, I really can’t live like this.”
I pulled the reins sharply and drew my horse alongside Dokgo Myeong’s.
“Here. Take it.”
“Ugh, why does the water smell like alcohol too….”
“And whose fault is that? Who told you to drink until so late? How much did you even drink?”
“You wouldn’t understand, but that was an unavoidable meeting for the sake of this world, one that will change history… blech!”
“Drink the water first and then talk!”
Only after Dokgo Myeong had drained the water pouch did some color return to his face.
“Ah! I feel like I might live after all.”
“You could have rested a day and departed, so why did you insist on leaving in the middle of the night? You’re injured….”
“Staying in the same town as that man would only worsen my injuries, not help them heal, so I thought it best we leave.”
Dokgo Myeong grumbled and offered the tobacco pouch again. Namgung Sohwa waved her hand dismissively.
“Why do you dislike Baek Jang Mun so much? It didn’t seem like there was a reason for it.”
“Well… you know how sometimes you just see a person and they rub you the wrong way? That’s how he is. Seems like we had quite the karmic debt in a past life.”
Namgung Sohwa stared at Dokgo Myeong without a word.
Every time Sohwa looked at me like that lately, my flesh crawled. No, was it really acceptable for her to look at her lord like he was some kind of insect?
“So we’ve formed an alliance now, is that correct?”
“An alliance?”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled.
“No, it’s just a transaction.”
“A transaction?”
“Think about it for a moment. What could that mean?”
Dokgo Myeong often posed such questions to Namgung Sohwa.
It seemed his intention was to cultivate her discernment through questioning. This was likely the same.
“Could it be because the Commander now holds the reins of the Murim Alliance?”
“Exactly that.”
“Whimper!”
Hoa, who had been striding ahead on the path, suddenly whined.
Dokgo Myeong pulled out a dried ginseng root from his pocket and tossed it over, then continued.
“He dreams of becoming the Alliance Leader. I intend to make that happen, and I have the power to do so.”
“….”
“At the same time, for that to occur, the main family must execute this war flawlessly. And that requires Baek Jang Mun’s strength.”
Their desires aligned, and the means were conveniently at hand, so we simply exchanged what each needed.
Namgung Sohwa opened her lips, which had been pressed shut.
“…He’s terrifying, that Baek Jang Mun.”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled.
“A man counted among the Three Sovereigns wouldn’t be easy to deal with.”
“His techniques were unpredictable. And that swordsmanship….”
Namgung Sohwa trailed off, her expression quite complicated.
Emperors who ruled the martial realm.
The Wudang Martial Emperor, the Shaolin Divine Fist, and the mysterious master swordsman.
Depending on the era, the Killing Star of Salmak and Bang Jong-san of Gae-bang were sometimes included, but the swordsman’s reputation was equally formidable.
‘If we exclude the Lord of the Dokgo Household, isn’t he considered the greatest swordsman of this age?’
Namgung Sohwa gazed at the sword hanging at her waist.
Though the Wudang Martial Emperor wielded a sword, he was famous for preferring fist and palm techniques, so in truth, Baek Mu-heun was the only true swordsman among the Three Sovereigns.
“To become the true greatest swordsman under heaven, I would have to defeat Baek Jang Mun as well.”
“Why, are you already feeling frustrated?”
“A little.”
For just a moment, I had glimpsed the ultimate of the sword.
That pure white sword energy that could cleave heaven and earth with a single stroke.
How much training would be required to achieve such a blade?
“At least I had experience facing the Dokgo household head, so the shock was less severe. Just how strong is this Baek Mu-heun?”
“Well, perhaps…”
Dokgo Myeong narrowed his eyes slightly.
“He might be able to hold his own against the household head to some degree.”
“To… that extent?”
Namgung Sohwa asked in a trembling voice.
If the Realm of No Extremes was the pinnacle of human achievement, then the Realm of Ascending Heaven was something beyond that. The notion that such a person could stand against Dokgo Cheon was endlessly shocking.
“It would certainly be difficult, but depending on the conditions and circumstances, victory might be possible.”
Of course, those conditions would be so numerous that one would need to include luck itself.
Dokgo Myeong turned his head toward Namgung Sohwa and smiled faintly.
“But in truth, the same applies to you.”
“Pardon?”
“Since one cannot know without testing, you would have a reasonable chance of victory even against Baek Mu-heun.”
“…!”
“What matters in the martial world is the ability to discern such probabilities, whether slim or substantial. You will be capable of that.”
Dokgo Myeong finished speaking and turned his gaze forward once more.
Namgung Sohwa watched his retreating figure with wide eyes.
Soon after, she smiled broadly and urged her horse to follow alongside him.
* * *
“I hear the Baekheolgwi have all perished?”
“Indeed, so it seems.”
“You are not troubled?”
“I sent those I could afford to lose.”
Jimeol Magoon let out a hollow laugh.
From Muyong Tae, who had displayed such fierce emotion, no further anger could be felt.
That fact was quite amusing.
“I hear you transmitted a portion of your divine technique to their representative… why did you do so? You seemed quite attached to your technique.”
The corners of Muyong Tae’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. One would need to look carefully to recognize it as a smile.
“I merely taught them the dregs. An appropriate choice for a test.”
“Truly nothing more?”
“Truly nothing more.”
“Hmm, I see. However…”
Jimeol Magoon lifted his teacup while observing Muyong Tae.
His eyes were like those of a serpent.
“I recently heard that you taught the complete version to the household head’s son?”
Muyong Tae had two sons.
Moyong Lim and Moryong Han.
Moyong Lim had his neck severed by Dokgo Myeong and was dead; now the only remaining blood relative was Moryong Han.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Are you not concerned?”
“What is it?”
Ji-myeol Magoon laughed.
“No, never mind. It was a foolish question. Hehehehe!”
Muyong Tae spoke in a cold voice.
“Han is also a member of the main family. How much more so for the lesser household lord—he should naturally offer his body for the family’s sake. It was merely part of an experiment for perfecting the divine technique.”
“Of course. Of course! Hehe!”
Ji-myeol Magoon gazed at Muyong Tae while laughing silently.
The side effects of the incomplete martial art he had cultivated from his qi channels were slowly fading away. It was the efficacy of purification through the Shenxue Tower.
‘Originally, the upper dantian was to be governed by the Pure Blood Qi, the middle dantian by the Azure Heaven Qi, and the lower dantian by the Moyong family’s Heaven-Earth Qi.’
However, because the Namgung family’s martial art that should have governed the middle dantian was incomplete, Muyong Tae’s body had been deteriorating.
The Shenxue Tower had filled that deficiency. It was a grand technique that had been performed only once in the sect’s history.
Only then had the Three Poles Return to Origin Divine Technique finally achieved completion.
But.
‘Your son is not, is he?’
Ji-myeol Magoon lifted his teacup again.
‘Though you call it complete, it is an imperfect martial art that the Shenxue Tower could not supplement.’
He proposed a deal to his enemy, his anger had faded, and he used his only son as an experimental subject without the slightest emotion.
‘The shedding of the shell draws near.’
What indeed would the outcome be?
Ji-myeol Magoon’s silent laughter escaped him.
“What are you laughing about?”
“I am delighted that the Moyong family lord’s great achievement approaches.”
“No matter how much honeyed words you speak, you will gain no change from me. If you have nothing more to say, leave.”
“There is one more thing I must say.”
“What is it?”
Tap.
Ji-myeol Magoon set down his teacup.
“Our preparations are complete.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Grand General has finally arrived, and it is time we began.”
Muyong Tae’s eyes gleamed.
* * *
Jo Ryang-ui, the man responsible for the internal affairs of the Cham Ma Sect, kept a diary.
Just as one writes a ledger to ensure no discrepancies in financial accounts, he wrote to remember precisely what had occurred.
When he opened his previous diaries, they were roughly like this.
Clear skies. While organizing financial records, I discovered evidence of embezzlement by Luzu. When wages fall behind, the materials to bring to the magistrate’s office increase.
Hmm, truly a very ordinary diary.
But the entries after taking charge as Overseer of the Cham Ma Sect seemed to be going awry.
Not long ago, Manager Geum Seok-du began training. He said it was merely basic cultivation and external techniques, but something feels wrong. Screams never cease.
The disciples have begun training to evade arrows and hidden weapons. But why are they wearing blindfolds?
After finishing my duties late into the night, I witnessed the managers donning night garments as they entered the disciples’ quarters.
Moyong’s strategist brought a training schedule. Night training had been added, and the required supplies included various poisons, arrows, and throwing weapons.
Jo Ryang-ui’s hand trembled slightly as he turned the pages of his journal.
Is this right? Doesn’t something feel amiss?
Even without Dokgo Myeong here, things are like this—what will happen when he returns?
Regardless, I had to record today’s events as well.
Jo Ryang-ui swallowed dryly and picked up his brush.
The elixirs have all been prepared, and equipment arrives from Cheolbang nearly every day.
The lord’s cousin and leader of the Beon-cheon Myeol-sa Alliance visited to see Manager Gwak, but after inspecting the Chammayard, she departed immediately.
Jo Ryang-ui paused.
Soon he continued writing with slightly unsteady brushstrokes.
The training and discipline of the Chammadae differed from anywhere else in the Dokgo Household. The communal weapons and equipment were unlike those used by ordinary martial artists in the realm.
What exactly is my lord preparing for? What is he truly envisioning?
That was when it happened.
Boom!
The sound of the Chammayard’s main gate opening—something that should never happen in the dead of night—echoed through the air.
“Come here at once!”
At the voice that followed, Jo Ryang-ui exhaled deeply and grasped his brush once more.
My lord had returned.

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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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