Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 296

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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 296
Dokgo Un-hak watched as Dokgo Myeong led the Cheonma Sect disciples away from the encampment.
Suddenly, the words Dokgo Myeong had spoken came to mind, and he let out a quiet chuckle.
“That one is truly not meant to serve under anyone.”
A man who could enchant the masses with nothing but his tongue.
To think I once tried to keep such a man beneath me—pure foolish greed on my part.
Then, a voice came from behind.
“Are you speaking of Dokgo Myeong?”
“Ah, the Commander has arrived?”
“I came as soon as I heard the news. They say you’ve granted the Cheonma Sect permission to deploy.”
Shin Heum, who had approached from behind Dokgo Un-hak, wore an expression tinged with concern.
“What scheme are you plotting?”
“What do you mean?”
“A man of Dokgo Myeong’s caliber would contribute far more to the battlefield serving as a strategist directing operations. Yet you’ve not only sent him to the front lines but granted him full command authority.”
His first words might have been sincere, but they were mere pleasantries—the real point lay in what followed.
Dokgo Un-hak chuckled softly.
“When someone insists with such confidence in their eyes, how could I refuse? If I did, he’d only resort to madness and bolt on his own anyway.”
“You could have at least imposed minimal conditions.”
“I suppose I could have.”
At Dokgo Un-hak’s vague response, Shin Heum’s expression grew puzzled.
“I too have observed the Cheonma Sect. They are well-trained elite soldiers. But that is all they are. Aside from a few exceptional individuals, there are those mixed in who, at best, are merely second-rate.”
“It is a newly formed unit, so it is naturally lacking in many ways.”
Dokgo Un-hak turned slightly and met Shin Heum’s gaze.
“I won’t criticize you, so speak freely, Commander.”
“A single strike force has little chance of reversing the tide of war. Most critically, their numbers are too few.”
Shin Heum’s voice grew heavy.
“Even now, the Left Commander should take the reins and orchestrate a grander strategy.”
“That approach would not have been without merit.”
“…?”
An indecisive response unlike the usual Dokgo Un-hak.
As Shin Heum’s expression grew more puzzled, Dokgo Un-hak continued in a calm voice.
“But that one will languish and feign madness if restrained. If he’s going to rampage regardless, isn’t it better to unleash him upon the enemy?”
“Do you believe Dokgo Myeong will devise a strategy capable of reversing the war’s course?”
“Strategy? Commander, does that one strike you as some brilliant strategist capable of conjuring ingenious schemes?”
“Then he is not?”
“His distinctive unconventional behavior and decisiveness merely create that impression. In truth, his tactics and schemes are hardly remarkable—merely mediocre at best.”
“…?”
Shin Heum’s expression showed incomprehension.
Then what of all those who have suffered at his hands until now?
“He possesses only unwavering resolve in his objectives, relying on improvisation for the details. At times, he even depends on fortune or his opponent’s psychology. How could one call that strategy?”
“Then how…?”
“Yet the reason he always sweeps the stakes is because he wins before the match even begins.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Dokgo Un-hak’s eyes gleamed.
“He places stones at every intersection beforehand, then coaxes his opponent into sitting across from him while pretending it’s an even game.”
“So you’re saying he doesn’t win through superior skill, but by rigging the board in advance?”
Dokgo Un-hak nodded.
Moreover, if the stakes are generous enough, he snatches victory through sheer bluffing alone.
If they’re insufficient? He flips the entire board and creates chaos. They say fraud and strategy are separated by a thin line, but how is that the work of a strategist? That’s a con artist or a gambler’s game.
“Such a man made bold declarations. Since this time the enemy is now our ally, there’s no need to keep him in chains.”
Dokgo Un-hak chuckled softly and gazed into the distance.
The Cheonma Sect grew smaller as it receded. Last time he had been the one seeing them off, but now he was the one doing the farewell.
Dokgo Un-hak didn’t lower his gaze until the Cheonma Sect completely vanished from sight.
He was already certain that Dokgo Myeong would overturn the board. Now the only thing that mattered was not missing the signs just before he created chaos.
* * *
Jugyeong Village, a remote corner of Shinnyeo in Gangseong Province.
Son Chan, the Deputy Leader of the Byeokcheon Unit and vanguard of the Dokgo Family’s allied forces, furrowed his brow.
“…What is this?”
“Today’s meal, Deputy Leader.”
“…”
“My apologies. The dried rations have run out, so this was the best we could manage.”
Son Chan stared down at the grayish rice ball the Deputy Leader had handed him. There wasn’t enough water to soften the rations; the grains looked clumped and dry.
“What about food for the disciples?”
“…”
“Don’t tell me this is all that’s left?”
“That is…”
Seeing the Deputy Leader’s evasive response, Son Chan’s expression darkened.
“Was there truly nothing left in the village that wasn’t poisoned?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
After deliberating for a long while, Son Chan finally spoke.
“There were fields in the village corners. Set aside your pride and have them dig up radishes and taro roots to eat.”
“…Actually, one of the men pulled up a raw radish yesterday and ate it, but he’s been running a fever since this morning.”
Son Chan was startled.
“There was poison even in the unharvested crops?”
“The soil color was unusually dark. It seems something was spread there.”
Son Chan squeezed his eyes shut.
Fearing a sigh would escape the moment he opened his mouth, he swallowed hard before speaking.
“…My stomach feels heavy and I’ve lost my appetite. Take this and distribute it to the wounded instead.”
“Deputy Leader.”
“Go on.”
Son Chan handed over the rice ball again and let out a sigh.
It had already been four days since we evacuated to Jukryeong Village to escape the Jeongheol Sect’s assault. Our water supplies had long run dry, and our food stores appeared to be completely depleted.
‘Every night they send assassins in gradually, preventing us from sleeping. At this rate, we truly….’
Son Chan’s sigh deepened.
The Jeongheol Sect.
Those bastards seemed to have studied and studied again how to fight against martial artists. Warriors who couldn’t last three seconds in a direct martial confrontation were now hunting down our elite units like prey.
‘I should have noticed when the village was empty.’
A gloomy light flickered across Son Chan’s eyes.
Now was the time to decide.
Whether to break through and escape while we still had strength remaining, or to hold out here and wait for reinforcements.
‘…Will reinforcements even arrive?’
Recalling the war situation written in the last dispatch from Jeon Seo-gu, only bleak thoughts came to mind.
Jeongheol Sect disciples appearing sporadically from all directions had dealt heavy blows to the Dokgo Family, and the existing Moyong Family forces were tightening their encirclement to solidify their position.
And on top of that, a force called the Pacheong Army was pushing down from Zhejiang….
“Hah.”
Son Chan’s eyes gleamed with resolve.
And just as the Deputy Leader returned to where he was.
“Deputy Leader. Gather the wounded and assemble all those capable of fighting.”
“…!”
“The enemies are numerous and their tactics are meticulous, but their individual martial prowess is weak. Whether we sink or swim, let’s make a desperate gamble.”
This might be exactly what the enemies wanted, but as a proud martial artist of the Dokgo Family, I couldn’t simply waste away here.
“Hurry! Gather leather and cloth to reinforce our robes! Carve wooden projectiles!”
“Those with internal injuries, cultivate what inner force you can!”
“Night is falling! We depart tonight!”
The moment the decision was made, Jukryeong Village erupted into chaos.
Son Chan’s eyes flashed with a cold, steely light as he gripped his sword hilt.
‘Even if I die, I’ll carve a path for the disciples to escape.’
Thus Son Chan and the Byeokcheon Unit steeled themselves with resolve to die and waited for nightfall.
As the sun slowly set beyond the back mountains, having finished preparations to break through the encirclement under cover of darkness.
“M-Master! Enemy attack!”
“What!?”
Boom boom boom boom! Crash!
As if they had anticipated even this, the Jeongheol Sect and Moyong Family forces surged toward Jukryeong Village.
“Byeokcheon Unit! Draw your blades! Move!”
The wounded who could move and the martial artists still capable of combat—all dispersed to face the enemy.
Crash!
“Kahahaha! So this is the greatest clan under heaven? Your sword has no power behind it!”
“Ugh!”
Clang! Clang clang!
A Moyong Family warrior with blazing crimson eyes descended upon them.
The swordsmanship was unmistakably from the Moyong Family, yet the aura radiating from it carried the destructive essence of blood techniques.
“Has the Moyong Family’s martial artist fallen to such depths!”
Though his martial prowess had clearly diminished, the sheer destructive force of his blood techniques allowed him to hold his ground against Son Chan’s sword strikes.
How could a martial artist resort to such methods?
What value lay in strength obtained through such degradation?
The man let out a derisive snort.
“Indeed, you are different. To endure so well despite being weakened like this.”
“A swordsman who fights with such crude methods has no right to judge my blade!”
Son Chan charged forward with a roar of fury.
In that instant.
Kwaaaaaaang!
A terrifying wave of energy erupted from behind.
Son Chan’s complexion turned ashen as he hastily deflected his sword and turned to look.
‘A commander-level master!’
A middle-aged man wielding a long spear descended upon the Cheonma Sect forces.
He was a master of the Jeongheol Sect who frequently appeared on the front lines. A commander-level expert had arrived at this very location.
“How dare you let your guard down?”
“Ugh!”
Whoosh! Clang!
Son Chan was sent flying backward.
His expression twisted in rage.
‘What kind of martial world is this?’
Did these warriors possess no pride in their craft?
Was it precisely because of this that they had driven the main family to such desperation?
‘Escape is already impossible.’
So be it.
If that is what they desire, I shall cast aside all pride.
“Even if I die, I will take your head with me!
“Try if you can——!”
The man never finished his words.
Screeeech!
Thud!
In an instant, the man’s head snapped violently to the side, his body launched into the air before crashing headfirst into the ground.
There was no scream. Death was instantaneous.
“…?!”
Son Chan flinched in surprise and examined the man.
Something had arrived at terrifying speed.
It was an arrow. An iron-tipped shaft was embedded in the man’s temple.
‘An arrow? From where?’
As if that were a signal, someone radiating a fearsome aura came charging toward the center of the battlefield.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom! Crash!
A charge, and collision.
The Moyong Family forces couldn’t even react properly to the sudden intrusion.
The young man who burst into the front lines opened his mouth.
“Cheonma Sect.”
“Yes!”
“Sweep them all away.”
Crash!
The outer perimeter began crumbling in an instant.
It was as if a black wave was surging forward. Dozens of martial artists clad in black armor obliterated every Jeongheol Disciple and Moyong Family warrior in their path.
“Enemy! Rear flank! No, the side! What in the world is this…!?”
“Regroup and counterattack… Gack!”
Whoosh! Boom!
The commander’s desperate shouts to quell the chaos were meaningless. Poisoned darts and iron arrows came like ghosts, severing the lifelines of those giving orders.
The enemy’s confusion deepened.
And through the center of that chaos, a burly man pierced forward with a thunderous roar.
“Clear the path!!”
Crash!
An iron axe nearly the size of a human torso reduced everyone in its range to chunks of flesh.
Whoosh!
The martial artists who followed amplified the terror as they tore through the collapsed front lines.
‘What… what is happening?’
Son Chan stared at the unbelievable scene, his lips trembling.
“Who are they…?”
A blood-soaked Deputy Leader rushed to his side and shouted.
“Deputy Leader! We’re saved! The Cheonma Sect! They said it was definitely the Cheonma Sect!”
“The Cheonma Sect… Could it be…!?”
Son Chan’s eyes widened.
Crack! Boom!
Successive explosions erupted across the battlefield.
At the front lines stood an invincible martial artist scattering dragon scales.
Dokgo Myeong.
There were no living enemies left around him.
It was then.
“Dokgo Myeong!!”
The military commander of the Jeongheol Sect glared at Dokgo Myeong, blood light blazing in his eyes.
Dokgo Myeong slung his Hyeonchel Sword across his shoulder and smirked.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“How dare a treacherous infidel appear here!”
“I came personally to crack your skulls. You should be grateful—now shut your mouth and get ready.”
“Charge!”
Whoooosh!
The Commander’s weapon came at me with terrifying force.
Clang!
The shockwave from the collision sent nearby soldiers tumbling like sheaves of grain.
The second clash followed immediately.
Boom!
The Commander’s mouth gaped open as he spewed black blood.
“Gahhh!”
The Commander lifted his head with disbelieving eyes.
“What is this…!”
I didn’t wait to hear the rest of his words.
I simply swung the Hyeonchul Blade.
Slash!
The Commander fell lifeless.
I walked past his collapsing corpse and stood before Son Chan.
“Your name?”
“I… I am Son Chan… Deputy Leader of the Western Army’s Byeokcheon Division, Son Chan.”
“Excellent. You held on remarkably well.”
At those words, Son Chan felt tears welling up in his eyes.
“Then Deputy Leader Son, once the remaining enemies are dealt with, move thirty li to the west. I’ve cleared the path. Gather your forces there and reorganize your troops.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Those words spilled from his lips to someone who wasn’t even his commander.
The Western Army had originally been the Elder Council faction’s camp, and Son Chan was part of it, yet his mouth answered of its own accord.
“Retreat! Retreat! Fall back now!”
The Moyong Family forces began to withdraw.
I spun around and issued orders.
“Ak, take the disciples and pursue them. Clean them up and catch up with me.”
“Understood!”
Dokgo Ak shouted.
“Let’s go, you bastards! Time to turn them around!”
“Turn them! Turn them! Turn them!”
“Kahahaha! Follow me!”
“Dokgo Ak! Dokgo Ak! Dokgo Ak!”
Three squads of the Cheonma Sect, Dokgo Ak’s unit, charged forward with their bizarre war cry.
I continued my orders.
“Squad Five, pick two or three disciples and search the corpses. We might find something useful. Seok-du, you take the remaining disciples and…”
“Reconnaissance, correct? I understand. We’ll depart immediately.”
“Good. The rest of us move out now!”
Despite appearing completely disorganized, the troops departed in perfect unison at my command.
It was the Cheonma Sect’s full-scale entry into battle.
No one yet knew what kind of fight those fewer than a hundred warriors would display.

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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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