Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 30

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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 30
They say you can judge a person’s character by looking at their room.
The Jingcheng Alliance Leader’s office was remarkably sparse. It was cramped, with no decorations or embellishments whatsoever.
Im Cheong-gun must be as modest as this room suggested.
‘Or perhaps he simply wanted to appear that way.’
I lifted my head.
An elderly man with a gentle expression—Im Cheong-gun, the Jingcheng Alliance Leader—stood to greet me.
“I am Myeong-i of the Honam Dokgo Clan. It is an honor to meet you, Alliance Leader.”
“Welcome, welcome. I am Im Cheong-gun, leader of the Jingcheng Alliance.”
Im Cheong-gun smiled warmly and gestured for me to sit.
As I took my seat, I studied him carefully.
‘So his retirement due to old age wasn’t an excuse after all—it was genuine.’
They said he had already passed ninety years of age.
Indeed, his inner energy flow was unstable. The mere fact that an elderly martial artist who had cultivated inner energy his entire life could no longer control his own qi spoke volumes about his health.
“Thank you for traveling such a distance in this cold weather.”
“Not at all. It wasn’t a difficult journey.”
Im Cheong-gun’s gaze shifted behind me, as if searching for someone.
“But I heard the delegation’s representative wasn’t just you alone?”
“Ah, my cousin came with me, but I had him rest for a while.”
Rest for a while?
That phrasing seemed odd.
“The journey must have been exhausting.”
“Something like that, yes.”
He was so tired that after I patted the back of his head a bit, he just collapsed.
That boy is far too weak, in any case.
“If you need anything, I can send a physician. Don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. If anything, I should be grateful.”
“Pardon?”
In that moment, beneath Im Cheong-gun’s wrinkled eyelids, dark brown eyes gleamed with an enigmatic light.
“For this humble old man’s retirement ceremony, two of the Cheonha Jeil Sega’s finest have graced us with their presence. Isn’t that so?”
His tone carried profound meaning.
It was as if he were probing the Dokgo Clan’s true intentions.
‘These old martial artists are all the same.’
I could retreat a step here and continue this verbal dance, but….
I let out a short laugh.
“How about we keep this brief and direct?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You have many things you wish to ask, don’t you?”
“…?”
“I have my own business to attend to as well. Let’s skip the drawn-out probing and get straight to it.”
Kang Yeop-cheong, who had been listening quietly beside them, exhaled with an expression that seemed to ask, “What kind of person is this?”
Normally in such situations, wouldn’t it be proper etiquette to maintain some formality and probe the other party with carefully veiled words?
Similarly, Im Cheong-gun, who had been momentarily at a loss for words, began to speak hesitantly.
“Well, how should I put it… You seem to possess quite a straightforward disposition.”
“Oh, no need for such praise. I do hear that sort of thing often, actually. Hehe.”
“….”
That wasn’t a compliment.
Im Cheong-gun’s expression became peculiar. Whether he had frowned slightly or not, the wrinkles around his eyes deepened noticeably.
Im Cheong-gun decided to take a step back for now.
“Hehe, but it seems you’ve misunderstood something. What would I, who am about to withdraw from the Gangho, possibly be curious about? I merely thought to have a conversation.”
“Mm.”
Dokgo Myeong crossed his arms with a sullen expression.
“Aren’t you curious about the intentions of the Main Sect, which sent two direct descendants?”
“…!”
“Whether they were sent to gain experience as young direct descendants, or to pull off some scheme, or perhaps….”
At words that went beyond blunt to become outright crude, Im Cheong-gun’s smile gradually faded.
“Whether they were sent to cause a ruckus like some punk leader arriving in a couple of days.”
“….”
“I’d certainly be curious if I were you.”
In the midst of it all, Dokgo Myeong stood alone, grinning widely.
* * *
Im Cheong-gun regarded Dokgo Myeong silently.
‘An unpredictable young man indeed.’
His casual demeanor, his manner of speech that thrust forward without formality….
Yet beneath that undignified conduct lay a sharp insight that pierced through to the other’s true thoughts.
‘This is no mere youth seeking to gain experience.’
Indeed, that iron-blooded sword master would never send someone mediocre.
Dokgo Myeong. Barely past his coming of age, if the rumors were true.
I understood well that this was no youth to be underestimated based on age alone.
Im Cheong-gun nodded readily.
“I was being too cautious.”
“I understand.”
“Yes, you do. How could I speak without first understanding you?”
“Then do you understand now?”
Im Cheong-gun nodded.
“Somewhat.”
Im Cheong-gun’s expression transformed in an instant.
The gentle, sickly face of an old man vanished, and beneath the wrinkled eyelids, eyes gleamed with the ferocity of a predator.
“Well then, that’s good. Let us speak with complete candor, as you suggest.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
Im Cheong-gun set down his cup, his eyes gleaming.
“The fact that you brought this up so openly… does that mean the Dokgo Clan has no intention of disrupting this event?”
“That sounds more like a confirmation than a question.”
“You could say that.”
He had certainly changed. Now he came at me directly without any probing to gauge my capabilities first.
And more than that…
‘He’s seasoned.’
From the very first word, he had seized control of the conversation. This was the bearing of an old master of the martial world—one who had weathered the chaos of Gangho following the great war and pacified Guizhou to become the leader of the Jingcheng Alliance.
Meanwhile, Im Cheong-gun suppressed his admiration.
‘Now he’s observing me.’
There was a relaxed confidence in the way he looked at me. By any measure—age, experience, or standing—I should have felt intimidated, yet not a trace of tension showed in his gaze.
“The Main Sect has no intention of causing unnecessary turmoil during the Alliance Leader’s golden reign.”
“Can I trust that?”
“If one wanted to plunder the treasury, wouldn’t it be better to wait until the gatekeeper has stepped aside? There’s no need to cause trouble while he’s still leaving.”
“…!”
Crunch.
Im Cheong-gun’s grip tightened on his teacup.
“Is that the Family Head’s intention?”
“At first, he told me to just gather information. Later, he said to go and obtain something if I could.”
So it was true.
Not just the Paedobyeon, but the Dokgo Clan had revealed their ambitions.
In truth, Guizhou, where the Jingcheng Alliance stood, had nearly the worst geographical position. To the right lay Honam, where the Dokgo Clan resided, and above lay Zhongqing, the Paedobyeon’s main base.
And that wasn’t all.
The Heavenly Assembly in Sichuan to the northwest was still on good terms, but they too were there. Every direction except the south was surrounded by formidable organizations.
“So it was as I thought.”
Im Cheong-gun nodded slowly, exhaling a long breath.
“Then why did you bother telling me this?”
“Well, that’s what the Family wants.”
“…?”
“But I have no intention of following my troublesome family’s wishes.”
“Even though it’s the Family Head’s command?”
“Children are supposed to disobey and grow up that way, aren’t they? I’m sure you’ll forgive me with your generous heart.”
“What? Ha ha!”
Im Cheong-gun stared at me with an expression of utter disbelief.
Im Cheong-gun let out a hollow laugh and leaned his upper body forward.
“Then what exactly are you thinking?”
I broke into a broad smile.
“Let’s make a deal—everything except the Dokgo name.”
* * *
Even after Dokgo Myeong departed, Im Cheong-gun remained lost in thought for a considerable time.
Kang Yeop-cheong, who had been standing vigil, finally opened his mouth with reluctance.
“Master, perhaps you should retire to your quarters now.”
“Yeop-cheong.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What is your assessment?”
Kang Yeop-cheong swallowed dryly and released a small sigh.
“To be honest, I was astonished.”
“Astonished, you say….”
“Whether in a positive or negative sense. He’s several years younger than me, yet I’ve never encountered anyone quite like him.”
“You seem to hold him in considerable regard.”
“Yes, he is truly remarkable.”
Kang Yeop-cheong admitted it candidly.
Dokgo Myeong was indeed remarkable.
His bearing and discernment, the seasoned authority that seemed to emanate even from his seemingly irreverent manner of speech—was I perhaps overthinking this?
“…What was your own impression, Master?”
“Hmm.”
Im Cheong-gun half-closed his eyes at his disciple’s question, recalling Dokgo Myeong.
His informal demeanor, his playful expression.
Yet beneath those sharp eyes burned an intensity so fierce and relentless it was almost terrifying.
Im Cheong-gun’s expression grew stern.
“An exceedingly dangerous young man.”
Not remarkable, not astonishing—but dangerous. That was the word that emerged.
A man of ninety years, a veteran of the Gangho, was wary of a youth barely entering adulthood.
“To such a degree, Master?”
“No matter how gifted one may be, there are limits to what can be displayed at such an age.”
Im Cheong-gun offered a subtle smile.
“Yet do not worry overmuch.”
“Why is that?”
“Though he may walk the path of dominion, he does not possess the character to stray onto a crooked road. He is one who honors his word.”
Kang Yeop-cheong felt curiosity kindle within him.
Why was this? When his master praised someone so highly, jealousy should have stirred, yet instead only his curiosity about Dokgo Myeong deepened.
Kang Yeop-cheong spoke, his voice tinged with peculiar fervor.
“I’m curious. Why did Young Master Myeong make such a proposal in the first place?”
“Yeop-cheong.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Cultivate a connection with him.”
At this unexpected instruction, Kang Yeop-cheong’s eyes brightened.
“Is this something I should discover for you going forward, Master?”
“Yes, that is correct. If you approach with goodwill, he will not reject you.”
Kang Yeop-cheong seemed to ponder for a moment before nodding decisively.
“Yes, I was hoping for that anyway.”
“…Is that so?”
“He seemed like someone I could learn much from. Wouldn’t it be good to become friends?”
“Heh heh.”
Im Cheong-gun laughed brightly.
No matter how close in age they were, Dokgo Myeong was still several years younger than Kang Yeop-cheong. Yet Kang Yeop-cheong spoke without hesitation about wanting to learn from him.
This was Kang Yeop-cheong’s greatest strength—an upright and humble disciple who recognized his shortcomings and knew how to fill them.
Im Cheong-gun grasped his disciple’s hand and patted the back of it gently.
“We’ll have to see, but it seems the Dokgo Clan will be resolved well.”
“…Yes, Master.”
“Now we just need to get over one more hurdle.”
The Paedobyeon Leader will arrive soon.
Im Cheong-gun’s eyes deepened.
* * *
Crash, splinter!
The sound of something breaking echoed continuously from inside the building.
A man sat carelessly on a shattered chair, tilting a bottle of liquor.
“Cheap swill. It’s ruined my palate.”
The man’s voice was thick—low and heavy, as if echoing from deep within a cavern.
The man tossed the bottle carelessly aside.
“Uuugh…”
“Cough! Krrgh…”
“P-please… spare me…”
Where the bottle landed.
Countless men lay scattered there in wretched condition.
The disciples of the Baek Mu-mun, the dark sword sect notorious throughout the region.
And in the span of a single day—no, merely two hours—they had been decimated and faced annihilation by a single man.
“What… what wrong did we commit… to deserve this… cough!”
Baek Mu-mun spat blood as he stared at the man.
“I simply didn’t avoid a fight that came my way. Wasn’t it you who started it first?”
“W-we didn’t know… our sect has caused no interference with the Paedobyeon’s affairs…”
“Just consider yourself unlucky.”
The man replied indifferently and slowly rose to his feet.
Crack!
His physique was enormous. Thick muscles rippled dynamically with each movement of his nine-foot frame.
He brushed his short hair back roughly and spoke again.
“Any last words?”
“N-no! Please… spare me…!”
“None then.”
Crack!
With a single casual gesture from the man—Wi Mu-jin, the Paedobyeon Leader—Baek Mu-mun ceased his groans entirely.
“Leader.”
A group of black-clad figures trailed behind the man as he walked forward with heavy footsteps.
“You haven’t been in a hurry for some time now. Quite a bit of time has been wasted—are you certain this is acceptable?”
“It’s already too late. I suspect it won’t matter anymore.”
“Pardon?”
The man muttered words of unclear meaning, then lifted his feet with deliberate slowness, as though everything was a tedious burden.
The black-clad figures trailing behind asked no further questions. They simply followed.
The Paedobyeon Leader gazed toward the southern sky.
It was the direction where the Jingcheng Alliance lay.
“My intuition is sharp. I set out lightly, yet it seems an unexpectedly entertaining affair is about to unfold.”
A delighted smile played across his lips.

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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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