Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 318

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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 318
Crack!
A gust of wind erupted from the descending blade.
Namgung Sohwa breathed heavily, her eyes fixed intently upon the tip of her sword.
Whirrrr!
The blade’s tip trembled as if vibrating.
Namgung Sohwa flinched in surprise, then resumed her frenzied sword strikes.
Whoosh! Crack! Boom!
In the dead of night, beneath the watchful gaze of stars and moon, sword light painted the heavens.
Among all the managers, she possessed the most advanced comprehension of martial arts. Even her casual strikes carried terrifying sword energy.
Whoooom!
Yet when she completed one sequence of sword forms, her blade trembled once more.
‘Trembling again?’
Namgung Sohwa’s eyes widened in shock.
She had reached a level where, if she wished, she could cleave even scattering dust with a single strike. It seemed absurd that she should now worry about hesitation and doubt manifesting in her blade.
‘An injury? Some remains, but nothing that should affect the sword… Could it merely be my imagination?’
Namgung Sohwa steadied her mind and resumed her stance.
Then she paused.
This wasn’t right. Something felt amiss, yet she couldn’t discern what.
‘Again, anew. This time, not the Heavenly Void Sword, but the Nameless Sword.’
She shook her head vigorously, drew a deep breath, and grasped the sword once more.
‘…How did I grip the sword?’
Namgung Sohwa’s eyes trembled faintly.
This time, her grip felt awkward. No matter how many times she adjusted it, the sensation remained strange.
“Are you perhaps cultivating a new technique? That’s quite an unusual grip.”
Namgung Sohwa started in surprise.
“Ah, it’s you, Hwa-a?”
“I apologize if I’ve interrupted your training.”
“No, it’s fine. But what brings you here?”
“The disciples asked me to review their forms from the Jecheon Art, so I was teaching them on my way back.”
Glancing to the side, she could see Ye-hwa’s five disciples standing about half-dead, swaying on their feet.
“I see. Go rest with your disciples now.”
“Yes.”
“Oh! Hwa-a!”
“Yes?”
“How have you been lately? Any lingering injuries or martial progress…?”
Ye-hwa tilted her head once, then smiled brightly.
“I’m doing well. In fact, I’m beginning to sense what lies beyond the wall my father spoke of.”
“Beyond the wall?”
“Yes. Since consuming the spirit herb you brought back then, I’ve felt that my time is drawing short.”
The same held true for the other managers, with the exception of Geum Seok-du, who harbored no particular interest in martial arts.
“That’s why I’ve been testing new archery techniques. As my mastery of Jincheonu has deepened, I’ve been creating secret formulas—but they’re archery methods, not killing techniques. You might say they’re uniquely mine…”
Ye-hwa chattered away excitedly.
Even in the dead of night, Ye-hwa’s presence seemed to shine brilliantly. I could only nod like a fool without offering a word in response.
“Oh! I hope I didn’t steal too much time from your training.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m glad. Now go on inside.”
“Yes, I’ll be going now.”
And so I was left alone once more.
As I gazed down at my hand gripping the sword, a hollow laugh escaped me.
‘Even I can see how ridiculous my grip is.’
I was holding the sword as if it were a fishing rod, not even joking around—it was no wonder Ye-hwa had asked if I was researching some new technique.
Sheathe.
I weakly returned the sword to its scabbard.
“I thought it was right within reach…”
True to the saying, a new realm of mastery was indeed within arm’s reach.
At Dokgo Myeong’s side, I had witnessed countless swordsmen vying for supremacy under heaven, and I had beheld with my own eyes those who stood at the pinnacle.
I had made blood-soaked efforts toward them as my goal, crossing far beyond the line where real blood was shed.
Everything was in place. Now only the crossing remained.
‘Perhaps that itself is the problem.’
Each time I grasped the sword, countless sword paths reaching dizzying heights came to mind.
The countless sword lines drawn by Baek Mu-heun, Dokgo Un-hak, and Dokgo Myeong were clouding my own sword path.
‘No, perhaps that’s all just an excuse…”
The thought that my enemy, Muyong Tae, might also be capable of drawing such a sword.
Could that thought be the source of this wavering?
Thump, thump.
Troubled in spirit, I left the training grounds and walked elsewhere.
I could hardly confide such feelings to my subordinates, so the only people I could turn to were the companions I had walked alongside for so long.
“Ah, is that so? And then?”
Dokgo Ak replied halfheartedly while roasting jerky over the campfire.
“…And then?”
“No, what’s so grave about such a worry that you must wear such a gloomy expression? It doesn’t suit you.”
I turned to leave, thinking I shouldn’t have asked.
“You’ve already built it all, so why harbor such concerns? It’s not as if anyone’s making fun of you.”
Dokgo Ak muttered something incomprehensible at my departing back. I couldn’t understand what he meant.
Next was Cheolmu-baek.
Cheolmu-baek, who had been sharpening his axe blade on a whetstone, offered an even more cryptic response.
“I envy you. Not that you couldn’t surpass them, but that you’ve met someone you must surpass.”
“Do you mean to say I won’t be able to surpass them?”
“I mean to say you have so many worthy opponents to face.”
Words like riddles within riddles.
Namgung Sohwa found herself unable to dispel her frustration and had to turn back once more.
‘Now it finally begins.’
Sighs flowed continuously from her lips.
‘I’ve finally come this far.’
When I close my eyes….
It feels as though I’m still trapped in that moment from that day.
Sword light flashing like fireworks, my father’s rough hand pulling me close, the acrid stench of gunpowder, the stern expressions on my brothers’ faces that I’d never seen before, expressions I had always doubted.
And behind them, the faces of those beasts.
‘Muyong Tae, Muyong Cheol, Mumeong.’
Time had resolved nothing.
The expedition was now the day after tomorrow. No, the moon had already waned—it was tomorrow.
The final battle I had longed for lay before me, and yet hesitation lingered in my blade.
‘Is this nervousness?’
Namgung Sohwa looked up at the sky. A crescent moon hung at the edge of the earth.
‘Or could it be… fear?’
If my father and mother were still alive, what would they say now? Wouldn’t they have told me to forget about revenge?
‘How absurd.’
Here I was, dreaming of revenge while seeking parents who no longer existed.
Suddenly, the crescent moon seemed to mock me.
“Don’t mock me. You who flee at the approach of dawn—could you possibly understand even a tenth of what I feel?”
She muttered while glaring at the silent moon, then burst into laughter.
“What am I doing? Wallowing in self-pity under the moonlight like this.”
I’m no madwoman, and I have no idea what I’m doing dancing with a blade on a moonlit night. I should have just had a drink and gone to sleep instead.
Yet despite what she said, Namgung Sohwa did not retire to bed. With a tangled heart, she simply wandered aimlessly.
Boom! Crash!
After walking for some time, she heard the sound of something cutting through the air from somewhere.
Namgung Sohwa’s eyes widened.
‘It’s almost time for the sun to rise.’
Had he been training all night? Or had he simply woken at dawn?
Namgung Sohwa followed the sound as though possessed, moving toward it. In truth, she already seemed to know who the source was.
Boom! Whoosh!
Soon she reached a clearing.
In its center stood Dokgo Myeong, wielding a steel sword.
* * *
When did this man ever sleep?
She too had been awake all night, but it was never like this. The saying that rest was part of training had become a cliché long ago.
“Ah….”
Namgung Sohwa let out a stifled gasp of admiration.
Boom! Crack!
The steel sword extended outward in a fluid motion.
The dull black Hyeonchul Sword spread a mysterious sword light as if it had torn away a piece of the night sky.
‘How monotonous. Truly monotonous. Someone who isn’t a master would think it’s just basic swordplay.’
Someone had said that once.
When what you do appears effortlessly easy, it’s likely because you’ve already reached that realm.
Dokgo Myeong was exactly like that.
No obstruction, no hesitation.
Look at the sword intent contained in that monotonous blade.
A certain refinement felt incomparable to other masters who had reached the Limitless realm.
‘Is he not just performing a demonstration, but rather imagining someone while conducting a mock battle? Is this a sword that can only be unleashed when there’s an opponent?’
Whiing!
Dokgo Myeong’s sword drew a circle, then thrust downward along a diagonal line with lightning speed.
‘The Hwacheon Strike.’
A sword strike delivered in a straight line. It was clearly the Hwacheon Strike, a striking technique from the Hwacheon Gongsang.
But then.
Ssssshhh!
The moment the sword energy grazed the ground, instead of an explosion or a cutting effect, a different harmony occurred. The dust rose gently, creating a flow like a river.
‘How can the principles of Jecheon-gi and Eunhan Wall exist together?!’
It meant that true energy accompanied the martial technique as well.
Kwakwakwa!
Strong rotational force was imbued in Dokgo Myeong’s sword as it lashed at the air.
A terrifying sword wind tore through the night air.
After catching his breath, Dokgo Myeong smirked and turned his head.
“You came?”
“Ah… I’m sorry. Did I disturb you?”
“Well, you did disturb me a bit.”
Namgung Sohwa’s expression turned cold in an instant.
“Yes, then continue your training. I won’t disturb you.”
“You’re not upset, are you?”
“Do you think I’m a child? Go ahead, train. As much as you want.”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled and opened his mouth.
“I’m creating my own martial art these days.”
“What?”
“I’m combining separate things into one. It’s thanks to opening the Dark Heaven Technique. Take a look.”
Dokgo Myeong suddenly extended his leg.
Boom! Kwaaaah!
The moment his foot touched the ground, energy waves exploded outward from Dokgo Myeong as the center.
Namgung Sohwa felt a moment of dizziness and staggered.
‘What is this? When did he…?’
Dokgo Myeong’s true energy had penetrated into her body.
No matter how unguarded she was, the barrier of the Great Flame Divine Technique had been breached far too easily.
“Inhale.”
Yet that was merely a preparatory motion, for Dokgo Myeong immediately brought the Hyeonchul Sword crashing down with tremendous force.
Fwooooosh!
A terrifying explosive sound that split the very air.
As if that weren’t enough, the blade traced a complete arc, reclaiming all its expended power before being unleashed once more.
Crash! Fsssssh!
The Hyeonchul Sword obliterated—no, literally detonated—the tree standing nearby.
“The absence of distinction means I’m no longer bound solely to my own power.”
“….”
“I realized I could generate force discharge not just through my martial techniques and inner energy, but also through my opponent’s strength and the ambient external energy surrounding us. And it actually worked.”
“….”
“It’s still incomplete, but I’ve grasped the fundamental principles.”
Dokgo Myeong planted the Hyeonchul Sword into the ground and chuckled.
Namgung Sohwa asked.
“That footwork that shook his force discharge… what exactly is it?”
“Sak Gak Yeok Mu. Do you remember?”
“Sak Gak Yeok Mu? Wasn’t that based on illusion and deception?”
“Until now, yes.”
Sak Gak Yeok Mu—a subtle technique of sensory disruption.
A technique that deceived an opponent’s five senses and spiritual perception through minute movements and force fluctuations, it had now transcended mere visual trickery.
“I applied it to inner energy cultivation. By shaking the opponent’s five senses and spiritual perception, I shake their upper dantian as well. The disturbance becomes a weakness, and that weakness becomes the force that unravels the flow of inner energy through the body.”
“That’s utterly absurd….”
“Once perfected, footwork alone could suppress an opponent. If the power difference is significant enough, I wouldn’t even need to use my hands.”
To sever the meridians of inner energy with mere footwork.
The weaker one’s cultivation, the greater the impact would be. Even masters could suffer grievous harm if their upper dantian training was insufficient.
“And what comes next?”
“If the footwork is perfected, what else? A martial technique.”
“A martial technique?”
“More precisely, a force discharge method. I’ve based it on Cheonpa Kyung. I’ve compensated for Cheonpa Kyung’s weakness—its diminished power when the chain breaks—through footwork. Like this.”
Dokgo Myeong’s foot struck the ground once more.
Uuuummm!
The force discharge and inner essence that originated from that characteristic footwork resonated with the external energy, creating rotational force.
“So you can layer power through footwork alone.”
“And on top of that, I could reverse an opponent’s own strength against them.”
“If you misjudge your opponent’s attack, you won’t reverse anything—you’ll just take a pathetic hit.”
“What do you think my primary martial technique is?”
“That would be Cheonoe Kyung….”
More precisely, it was sensory perception.
A martial art so extraordinary that one sometimes wondered if it touched the realm of the Sinister Path. Especially in combat, Dokgo Myeong’s perception was absolute.
“I’ll use this footwork and Mugeuk Cheonpa Kyung as my foundation. And I’ll need to continuously refine the sword techniques to match.”
Dokgo Myeong asked.
“What do you think?”
“….”
Namgung Sohwa found herself at a loss for words.
What do I think? There was only one possible answer, wasn’t there?
“It’s always astounding, but this is truly… If a stranger wielded such martial arts, I would have mistaken them for a boatman. To think such martial techniques could exist in this world….”
It resembled a whirlpool.
A force that devoured both one’s own strength and the opponent’s, crushing everything in its path.
If that force’s application were combined with that swordsmanship from before….
“You truly grow endlessly stronger.”
“I still have far to go.”
Dokgo Myeong chuckled and swept his hand through the empty air.
In that instant, a gust of wind arose, and the dust upon the flat stone nearby was swept clean away.
Namgung Sohwa laughed softly and plopped down upon it.
As dawn gradually broke and the day brightened, Namgung Sohwa maintained her silence.
Dokgo Myeong made no effort to ask anything either. His perception and insight were so keen that he always sensed things beforehand.
Eventually, Namgung Sohwa spoke first.
“Could I… possibly do it?”

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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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