Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 400

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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 400
“Come, sit for a moment and talk with me. You’re sweating so much—I can see how exhausted you are. Hehe.”
Heo Un-jin plopped down onto a flat rock nearby.
Though it was midday, the cold still lingered, and wisps of steam rose from both their bodies.
“If you’ll wait a moment, I can fetch some water for you.”
“No need. Stay put.”
“It’s no trouble. I was going to send that younger brother of mine over there anyway.”
Before the words even finished, Dokgo Ak vanished with quick understanding.
When he reappeared, he carried two bamboo tubes brimming with water.
“Here you are.”
“Much obliged.”
“It’s my honor.”
Dokgo Ak accepted the empty tube back and subtly positioned himself behind Dokgo Myeong.
He seemed intent on gleaning something from Heo Un-jin’s words, but rather than finding it presumptuous, Dokgo Myeong found it admirable and said nothing.
“What did you make of it?”
“What can I say? It was remarkable.”
It wasn’t mere flattery—genuine sincerity colored his tone.
“But you didn’t reveal everything either, did you?”
“It seems you didn’t either, Elder.”
“Hehe, sharp as ever.”
I had not drawn upon the Sword Nullification Technique and the Infinite Heaven-Breaking Scripture born from the Sect Leader’s profound insight.
Conversely, Heo Un-jin had not unleashed his Yang Divine Art or his sword techniques.
“You’ve mastered quite a peculiar martial art.”
“I hear that often.”
“I felt much, but I can summarize it in one sentence.”
“Which is…?”
“It seemed like a martial art created to counter martial arts.”
It was an enigmatic statement—neither entirely clear nor entirely obscure.
Heo Un-jin continued in a measured voice.
“Central Plains martial arts… to lump them together now would be too simplistic, for they’ve grown far too divergent. Yet if we trace their origins, we inevitably find they share the same fundamental essence.”
“Central Plains martial arts began with Daoism and Buddhism, after all.”
“Precisely. That’s why the martial arts of the Immortal Realm and the Heavenly Axis seem so strange to our eyes.”
Heo Un-jin exhaled softly.
“But the Heavenly Outer Scripture seemed almost… like a martial art born from the question of how to counter Central Plains martial learning.”
“….”
“Don’t take it too seriously. It’s merely my personal impression.”
“How many people in this world could dismiss the impression of an elder like you?”
Heo Un-jin smiled faintly and gazed intently at Dokgo Myeong.
“The Heavenly Outer Scripture—surely countless geniuses spent long years pooling their minds to perfect it. I simply cannot fathom why such a martial art would be hidden away.”
“Are you asking if it’s a sect martial art?”
“Jeong Jong, is it? I’m not familiar with it. What do you think of Jeong Jong?”
“Surely it refers to orthodox martial arts passed down through a long history, does it not?”
“Then what exactly is orthodox martial arts?”
“Martial arts learned through the correct method.”
“And who decides what is correct?”
“That is….”
“Jeong Jong martial arts simply refers to the entirety of martial knowledge with a long history and the depth and vastness that comes with it. And as I mentioned, since the martial arts of the jianghu originated from Buddhism, Daoism, and the Nine Sects, the martial traditions of the Nine Sects are evaluated as orthodox.”
For a great elder of an orthodox sect to speak so unconventionally was extraordinary.
Yet simultaneously, it was a statement only the Sect Leader of the Mudang School, with its short history, could make. Until the Esoteric Scripture incident, the Mudang School had been little more than a minor faction.
“In that sense, your martial arts could be called Jeong Jong. But by the standards of the jianghu, they would be classified as Sima Waidao’s heterodox arts.”
“I see.”
“Quite unusual, really. Yet they contain principles both vast and profound. As if different martial arts were consolidated under a single banner….”
Heo Un-jin gazed at me once more.
“But it seems you’ve encountered a wall. A rather high one at that.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Heo Un-jin’s expression became extremely cautious.
“It may sound absurd, but have you perhaps already broken through the wall of the Martial Extreme Realm?”
“…!”
The Martial Extreme Realm.
The pinnacle where one perfects the martial arts learned and achieves balance between essence, energy, and spirit.
The ascending realm of unified essence, energy, and spirit—endlessly striking at the wall and ascending from that end.
And the Martial Extreme Realm itself—a realm that seems like fiction, reaching the extreme permitted to humans.
It was an absolute realm that could only be reached after abandoning everything one had achieved.
“Why do you think so?”
“Without that, such a mixture of true qi and martial arts would be impossible.”
I fell into thought for a moment.
‘Yes, I did reach it. In my previous life.’
But not in this one.
My martial arts and Dokgo Hyeon’s walk completely different paths.
“No. I have not reached the Martial Extreme Realm.”
“How can that be? One cannot paint the view from the summit without having climbed it.”
“It seems I may have climbed a different mountain than the one I’m climbing now.”
“A different mountain…?”
Heo Un-jin’s eyes gleamed.
“Is such a thing possible? How on earth?”
“I can only explain it that way. I simply know it.”
“Hmm.”
“Only one thing is certain—I do not know what view awaits at the summit of the mountain I’m climbing now.”
Astonishment appeared on Heo Un-jin’s face.
I changed the subject.
“But what were you trying to tell me by bringing up such a topic?”
“Someone of your caliber must have already conceived a path to breakthrough. May I ask what method you intend to pursue?”
“I…”
I clenched my fists tightly.
Whoosh!
The true energy of the Dark Heaven Technique rippled gently according to the principles of the Infinite Heaven Breaking Scripture.
At the sight of this energy wave structure unlike anything he had witnessed before, a flicker of intrigue crossed Heo Un-jin’s eyes.
“What is that?”
“It is a technique I have created myself.”
“You created it?”
“Creating and perfecting a martial art—I believe that is the wall I face.”
Heo Un-jin’s eyes widened in astonishment.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I am.”
“As I suspected. The creation of a martial art…”
His words trailed off like a sigh.
I tilted my head in confusion, and Heo Un-jin gazed at me intently.
‘Infinity means one must shatter everything about oneself and be reborn anew. The creation of a martial art is not merely a matter of martial technique alone.’
Though I remained unaware, the path I had chosen was far from ordinary.
It was the path of a Patriarch.
One must create schools and ideologies that have never existed in this world before. Success would make me a pioneer whose name would echo through history, but failure could render all my accumulated achievements void—a perilously dangerous path.
“Do you understand how difficult this path is?”
“Is there any path in this world that is not difficult?”
I smiled faintly and replied.
From the way I was smiling, it was clear I truly did not understand.
“Still, I have achieved some completion. Or rather, I believe I have.”
“It may align with martial principles. But you will continue to feel that something is lacking.”
My eyes wavered.
“How could you know that…?”
“Hmm.”
Heo Un-jin fell silent for a moment, lost in thought.
Then he posed an unexpected question.
“What do you believe constitutes a divine technique?”
“Is that not what we call an exceptional martial art?”
“Then where in this world exists a martial art that is not divine?”
Heo Un-jin offered a subtle smile.
“A divine technique is not merely about moving one’s body and winning in combat—it is a martial art infused with ideology and spirituality.”
“Ideology and spirituality, you say?”
“To meld your understanding and enlightenment of all things in heaven and earth into the form of martial arts. Thus, some martial arts embody yin and yang, others embody plum blossoms, Buddhas and immortals, struggle and harmony.”
My expression grew uncertain.
Heo Un-jin let out a knowing smile.
“You’re the type who sees martial arts as a tool for struggle.”
“That is… yes, that’s correct.”
It wasn’t something I should voice before someone who had learned martial arts as a tool for enlightenment and reached such an exalted realm.
Yet Heo Un-jin seemed to respect even that.
“Then infuse that meaning into your martial arts.”
“…?”
“Your martial arts have lacked understanding of their true essence. Do you truly wish to break through the wall? Then you must dissolve that answer into your martial arts.”
Each word from Heo Un-jin stirred through Dokgo Myeong’s mind.
“What does martial arts mean to you? What is it you wish to perfect in this world, what is your goal, and what answer do you wish to present to a world full of only questions?”
It was a koan.
There existed a realm that could only be perceived through enlightenment, that could only be completed through understanding.
“When you can infuse that into your martial arts, only then will you truly complete your martial arts and give it a name befitting its power.”
And should that come to pass.
It could become a supreme technique spoken of by countless people across generations.
“I am grateful for your teachings. I will carve them into my bones.”
“Heh, it was merely repayment for the pheasant meat.”
“No. I am truly grateful.”
Dokgo Myeong bowed deeply.
His eyes, cast downward, grew distant and profound.
* * *
Dokgo Wi-hak sat facing someone.
“Is there anything you lack?”
“How could there be? I’m a man trained to jump into a cesspit if ordered, so staying in such a luxurious house makes my eyes spin. Ha!”
The man sitting before Dokgo Wi-hak was none other than Gwak Dae-ryong. Of late, the two had often found themselves in such company.
‘A cesspit, he says.’
Dokgo Wi-hak let out a bitter smile.
Every time they drank tea, the same thought crossed his mind—how much this man resembled his son. Was that why they had sworn brotherhood?
“Still, why don’t you speak more comfortably now?”
“How could I possibly do that?”
“Come now, how can you keep speaking formally to your son’s sworn brother? Besides, I’m not that much younger than you. At this rate, we’ll just tangle the family tree. Let’s just drop the formality.”
Dokgo Wi-hak reluctantly nodded.
“Very well then.”
“Heh. Much better.”
Though they seemed quite different, the two found their hearts aligned surprisingly well.
‘A man who cast aside the assassin’s trade and chose the path of humanity. Truly admirable. No wonder Myeong-a is captivated by him.’
Conversely, Gwak Dae-ryong thought thus.
‘Unless the boy changed completely, how could such a refined man produce such a beast? They say a worthy father has no unworthy son, yet here comes a mad dog?’
In any case, they sat facing each other, sipping tea and sharing countless stories—of the world’s affairs, the Heavenly Palace Sect, martial arts, and the past.
And there was always one topic that naturally emerged between them: their children.
“…So that’s how I came to meet Myeong-a.”
“Yes, I drank so much that day. It was such a strange feeling, truly. We’d never met before, yet it felt like we’d known each other for years.”
“I’m truly grateful. It couldn’t have been easy to entrust a daughter you raised so carefully to someone you’d just met.”
“On the contrary, having raised such a son, how could I not trust and entrust her to you?”
When parents meet, talk of their children is inevitable—Dokgo Myeong and Ye-hwa became an endless topic of conversation between the two men.
“…Raised, you say. That’s not entirely true.”
“What do you mean?”
“I neglected that child. Of course, I did raise him. But it was merely obligatory education. I cannot say I truly fulfilled my role as a father with that alone.”
“Parents are always sorry for everything when it comes to their children—that’s just how it is.”
“That’s not mere talk. That child changed of his own accord, and through that change, I too was transformed. Only then could I truly become a father.”
“….”
“I cannot hide it forever. Perhaps… I should have told him earlier, even if it meant disappointing him.”
A shadow fell across Dokgo Wi-hak’s face.
Gwak Dae-ryong spoke to him in comfort.
“Father and son are truly alike.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“That one carries an inexplicable great secret, does he not?”
“….”
“Why don’t you just open up and tell him? Every time I see Hwa-a, I feel it….”
Gwak Dae-ryong smiled gently.
“Children are always far more mature than their parents imagine.”
“Mature, you say. That’s not wrong.”
Dokgo Wi-hak took a sip of tea.
Gwak Dae-ryong also smiled mysteriously as he brought his teacup to his lips.
That was when it happened.
“Sect Leader. It’s Jang Sam.”
“What is it?”
“That is… a message from the Young Master has arrived, and that… that person….”
Jang Sam couldn’t finish his words properly.
Dokgo Wi-hak looked toward the door with confusion.
“That person? Who exactly are you talking about?”
“The Master of the Mudang sect, Heo Un-no, has arrived.”
Dokgo Wi-hak’s body went rigid.
Crash!
The teacup in his hand fell, scattering tea across the table.
“Sect Leader?”
Gwak Dae-ryong looked at him in surprise.
For the first time, an unfamiliar expression appeared on Dokgo Wi-hak’s face, which had always been composed and dignified.
“Master….”

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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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