Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 307
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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 307
“…Therefore, we decided to execute a large-scale flanking maneuver around the enemy’s front lines.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Moryong Sohgyo, with half of her refined face wrapped in bandages, concluded her report before the Dokgo Family’s leadership.
The Cheonma Sect could no longer be dismissed as merely a martial artist brigade.
It was only natural that Moryong Sohgyo, the sect’s strategist, would attend the council in place of Dokgo Myeong, who remained on death’s door.
Shin Heum opened his mouth.
“Miss Moryong.”
“I believe I am present here as the Cheonma Sect’s strategist.”
“My apologies. Strategist Moryong.”
“Yes.”
“Do you acknowledge that the Cheonma Sect’s actions bordered on insubordination?”
“We acted only within the authority we were previously granted.”
Some of the assembled leadership raised their voices at her words.
“We nearly suffered a catastrophic disaster!”
“Not only could those surrounded have perished, but our entire allied forces could have collapsed! Regardless of any permission to act freely, who gave you the right to…!”
Judged solely by results, it was a brilliant tactical maneuver worthy of Zhuge Liang himself, completely reversing the tide of battle.
Yet the world rarely shows only its favorable side. Examining the situation coldly, it was a plan that could have annihilated our own forces entirely, and might have forced us to surrender the very victory of this war.
“Enough.”
At that moment, Dokgo Un-hak spoke.
“Regardless, the Cheonma Sect has achieved remarkable merit. We should be praising those who accomplished such feats, not raising our voices in anger.”
“But….”
“I said enough.”
Dokgo Un-hak silenced the assembly and fixed his gaze upon Moryong Sohgyo.
“Strategist Moryong. As I said, the Cheonma Sect has achieved great merit. I do not deny that.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“However, even if the results were favorable, we must clearly address the matter of the Cheonma Sect overstepping its bounds.”
Faced with Dokgo Un-hak’s firm assertion, Moryong Sohgyo could only fall silent.
“The permission to act freely was granted to the Cheonma Sect alone. I never said you could stake the lives of our own soldiers as wagers in your gamble.”
“Ultimately, we saved countless lives.”
“But in doing so, you maintained no communication with any other unit. What would have happened if the allied commander had failed to prepare in time, or if the main force and left flank had not moved?”
“We proceeded because we believed it was a viable plan.”
“You must understand that such a thing was only possible thanks to Dokgo Myeong’s absurd ingenuity and abilities. That was nothing short of a miracle.”
A handful of Cheonma Sect disciples rescuing several times their number from the hellish inferno that was the Heaven’s Net Entrapment.
Truly, it was a feat worthy of being recorded in the annals of the martial world, a great event that gossips would praise endlessly.
In short, it defied all common sense.
“And yet the very man responsible now lies bedridden and unable to rise.”
“Then are you saying we should have abandoned the surrounded troops?”
Moryong Sohgyo’s voice rose slightly.
At those words, which carried a certain heat, Dokgo Un-hak simply offered a faint smile.
“You’re young.”
“….”
Clink.
Dokgo Un-hak took a sip of tea before continuing.
“You know well enough that I’m not speaking from that perspective.”
“…I apologize for my rudeness.”
“The Cheonma Sect’s actions have shaken both our enemies and the main family. We’re fortunate it was contained, but a single variable could have brought catastrophe upon us all.”
Dokgo Un-hak’s eyes grew cold and sharp.
“Any organization that intertwines military and martial matters must observe law and procedure.”
“The situation demanded urgency.”
“There is no urgency on the battlefield that justifies abandoning protocol.”
“…!”
Dokgo Un-hak calmly struck at her blind spot.
“Or are you suggesting the entire main family should remain at the mercy of the Cheonma Sect’s whims?”
Moryong Sohgyo found herself at a loss for words.
As silence settled over the room, Shin Heum spoke up.
“Captain Moryong, this gathering is not meant to censure the Cheonma Sect. We acknowledge merit and reflect upon fault to prevent future mistakes.”
“Yes, I understand.”
This was merely a review, like analyzing a game of Go after it concluded.
Of course, such deliberations would shape the Cheonma Sect’s position in the final confrontation to come in Zhejiang, but with the justification to keep them from the front lines already gone, it held little weight. At most, their freedom as an independent strike force would be somewhat diminished.
So it was a matter of simply nodding and saying, “Yes, yes, I understand,” and moving on.
‘But why does this sit so poorly with me?’
Moryong Sohgyo had to struggle mightily to swallow the words threatening to burst forth.
She suddenly couldn’t fathom how she’d come to this. Her specialty had always been to smile prettily and nod along in such situations.
In these gatherings, loud objections would merely be dismissed as youthful passion, and acquiescence served her better in the long run.
‘Is it the internal injury? Why does my blood boil so?’
In the end, Moryong Sohgyo couldn’t hold back.
“Still….”
“…?”
“I still don’t believe we were wrong.”
“…Captain Moryong.”
Shin Heum spoke with a brief sigh.
“Do you truly not understand the gravity of military orders and the danger of setting precedent?”
“Military orders. You mean the orders written in this dispatch.”
Thud!
Moryong Sohgyo withdrew the letter she’d been carrying and placed it upon the central table.
It was the dispatch from the leadership commanding retreat. The once-pristine margins of the letter were now stained with dried blood.
“Do the Supreme Commander and the Left Minister truly harbor no regret regarding this order?”
“What did you just say?”
“I can confidently declare before the martial artists my faction has saved that the Cheonma Sect harbors no regrets for their sacrifice.”
Shin Heum’s words caught in his throat.
“I am but a foreigner who has only recently sought refuge with the Dokgo Family. Moreover, I am the daughter of the Moyong Family, the very enemy we now face. Yet even I, who am merely one person accepted by the Dokgo martial artists, have prioritized their lives above all else.”
“….”
“Then why do you all value the lives of your own retainers less than you value mine, a daughter of the enemy clan?”
“Moyong Commander! Your words are excessive!”
Whether anyone shouted or not.
‘Now that I’ve spoken, my heart feels completely relieved.’
So this is why Dokgo Myeong goes around ranting like that.
Moryong Sohgyo lowered her gaze.
On the table, she could see the game pieces placed upon the map marking the battle lines.
“When viewed from a distance, they appear to be nothing more than small wooden fragments, but when examined closely, they are all laughing, chattering people.”
“….”
“I ask that you understand—the Cheonma Sect did not act based on merit or reward.”
Moryong Sohgyo fell silent after those words.
Silence descended upon the conference hall. The response from the leadership was lukewarm at best.
Moryong Sohgyo understood that political interests were entangled in all of this. These men would surely believe that that cursed “bigger picture” mattered more than the lives of their subordinates.
In truth, Moryong Sohgyo was of the same breed as them. Dokgo Myeong was no different.
The difference lay in this: they understood that these pieces were not mere wooden fragments.
“Water and fish move as one, they say. Such is the commander with such a strategist.”
Dokgo Un-hak broke the silence with a smile.
“I understand your meaning. But surely you know that when military command wavers, more die than are saved?”
“Of course.”
“Do not use concern for one life as an excuse to place another life upon the scales.”
His words carried both counsel and a sharp warning. Moryong Sohgyo bowed her head.
“Yes, I shall remember.”
Dokgo Un-hak nodded once, then turned his gaze to survey the leadership gathered around him.
“The Independent Strike Force shall remain as is. The Cheonma Sect will continue to act freely as they have until now.”
“….”
Discomfort flickered across Shin Heum’s face, but Dokgo Un-hak paid it no mind and rose from his seat.
“As acting family head and left chancellor, this is my decision. Let this matter end here.”
At those resolute words, the other leaders did not dare speak.
“Moyong Commander, you remain.”
“…Yes.”
With everyone else gone, Moryong Sohgyo faced Dokgo Un-hak alone.
Dokgo Un-hak asked.
“How is the Cheonma Sect’s condition?”
Moryong Sohgyo’s expression darkened.
“Five dead, thirty percent with minor wounds, and over fifty percent sustained severe injuries requiring time to recover.”
“So everyone is battered and broken. Yet even so, that is truly a miracle.”
War was not a tale confined to pages—it was reality. Those thrown onto the battlefield did not experience the dreamlike mercy of emerging unscathed.
After the fierce battle, eighty-seven Cheonma Sect disciples became eighty-two.
“What of Myeong-i?”
Moryong Sohgyo’s expression hardened further.
“Our Commander….”
* * *
“The fractures are too numerous to count—more than five major breaks alone. The muscles and tendons as well….”
“At least he seems to have some resistance to the poison, though the wounds are heavily infected, which is dangerous.”
Dokgo Myeong had been burning with fever for days.
The external injuries alone were severe enough to be fatal. The blood loss was catastrophic—an ordinary person would have died from exsanguination.
“His physique is remarkably well-constructed. His external martial cultivation is so thoroughly refined that it alone keeps him alive. The true crisis lies within his body.”
Geum Seok-du, who possessed some medical knowledge, asked carefully.
“Could we not administer elixirs or attempt qi-channeling techniques to address the internal injuries?”
“You might as well drive a blade through his vital points. It would be far less agonizing.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I have never witnessed such a configuration of body and qi meridians. Most critically, he has formed an inner core at the Qihai point—attempting qi-channeling would be absurd. Elixirs are equally futile. Perhaps only the Shaolin Great Restoration Pill might suffice….”
….
Each time a new physician arrived at the front lines, I had them examine him, but their conclusions remained consistent.
Dokgo Myeong, who had undergone skeletal rebirth, formed an inner core, and had his meridians completely restructured from the great channels to the minor ones.
Such uniqueness was, conversely, a statement that he was fundamentally different from others.
“If mishandled, he may well lose his life. You must prepare yourselves mentally.”
The physician’s words carried shocking weight.
Yet the Cheonma Sect Captains’ reaction was peculiarly muted.
“Ah… I see. Very well, understood.”
“Hmm?”
“In any case, what should we do?”
“Well, simply feed him easily digestible foods through the esophagus using internal force, and ensure he does not develop bedsores….”
“Ah, that much is nothing. Thank you then.”
The physicians were bewildered by their response.
The Cheonma Sect was renowned for its tight familial bonds, yet this lukewarm reaction was utterly inexplicable.
“…Are you truly not concerned?”
“Concerned about what?”
“Your Commander is on death’s door! His injuries are catastrophic!”
The Captains remained unmoved.
“One should worry about those worthy of worry. Him? Why would we?”
“Exactly. And of all people, our elder brother?”
“The man who fought a water dragon and returned alive.”
“Internal injuries? That’s hardly a concern….”
Dokgo Myeong is the sort who would grab the collar of the Grim Reaper himself and shake him while bellowing, “You scoundrel! You scoundrel!” and beat him senseless.
If he had died before their eyes, perhaps—but with him plainly alive and groaning in agony, he would surely tear free from his sickbed and rise within days.
“Come now! We’re all exhausted too—let’s go rest at the pavilion! Come on!”
Namgung Sohwa laughed brightly and led the managers out of the barracks.
“Then, shall we have a drink together?”
“Drinking will aggravate your injuries.”
“Wait, are you saying there’s actually alcohol?”
“There is, actually.”
“No, really? I was just throwing it out there.”
“Why are you like this? I’m Geum Seok-du.”
“Still, alcohol is a bit much….”
The managers chattered noisily as they left Dokgo Myeong’s barracks.
Meanwhile, some of the Cheonma Sect disciples who witnessed the scene couldn’t hide their shocked expressions.
“No, isn’t that too much, no matter what?”
“Is that even allowed? Really, he looked like he was in so much pain….”
It was the group now being called the Four Pillars of Cheonma—Yang Un-rang, Bang Dan-a, Hang San-gwi, Jang Han-chung, and Jin-sa.
Jang Han-chung felt the managers’ reaction was heartless. Shouldn’t they at least stay to nurse him back to health?
Then Yang Un-rang chuckled and spoke.
“They’re all just too embarrassed, that’s all.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Look over there.”
Yang Un-rang gestured with his chin toward Dokgo Myeong’s barracks.
Though there was no wind, the barracks entrance fluttered and then settled.
Only one person could do such a thing.
“Manager Gwak?”
From that moment on, as if by agreement, the barracks entrance fluttered once at a time. Dokgo Myeong was never left alone inside the barracks.
Yang Un-rang chuckled and spoke.
“I hope our captain recovers soon.”
He would recover.
Because it was Dokgo Myeong.
Because he was their commander.
Several days later.
Whoosh!
At last, Dokgo Myeong opened his eyes.
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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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