Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 401

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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 401
The Dokgo Family as the sun descended toward the horizon.
Upon reaching the grand Black Dragon Gate, Heo Un-jin paused to regard its imposing structure.
“Master, are you well?”
“I’m fine. I was merely thinking that your family’s people may not welcome me so warmly.”
Heo Un-jin spoke with calm composure.
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes sharpened with intensity.
“I possess greater ability than appearances suggest, so no one will dare treat you carelessly. Have no concerns.”
“Haha, such reassurance is most welcome.”
Just as he was about to stride forward with such bold confidence, Dokgo Myeong’s footsteps halted. Heo Un-jin too stopped in place, his gaze fixed beyond the gate.
Crack! Thud!
The sound of a staff striking the ground reverberated harshly from beyond the massive Black Dragon Gate.
“What business brings a Taoist priest to this threshold? Who dares cross the Black Dragon Gate without permission?”
From the shadows of the corridor within emerged none other than Elder Council Leader Dokgo Hwi-hwa.
Thump!
She drove her staff into the earth with such force it seemed to pierce the ground itself, her piercing gaze fixed upon Heo Un-jin.
“Infinite Buddha. I’m relieved to see you in good health, Hwi-hwa.”
“When did you start using that old epithet?”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa’s face contorted with displeasure.
“Have the Three Emperors of the realm fallen into senility? What brings you to this place?”
“You speak as though I’ve come somewhere I shouldn’t.”
“This is precisely such a place. Somewhere you should not have come.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa clicked her tongue.
“You seem to have considerable leisure time. For a sect leader of your standing to travel such a distance.”
“My sect has many capable disciples who provide substantial assistance.”
“Your thoughtlessness remains unchanged. It was the same back then.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa muttered with a complex, ambiguous expression.
It was the sort of expression worn by those harboring old grievances that had never been resolved, left to fade into obscurity.
“What brings you to the main family? Surely you don’t intend to dredge up buried matters now? Taking advantage of the Sect Leader’s absence before the Martial Alliance’s dissolution?”
Heo Un-jin shook his head with an untroubled countenance.
“I acknowledge the unfortunate timing. However… Hwi-hwa.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“Nearly thirty years have passed.”
“….”
“The heart-fire that seemed it would never extinguish has become nothing but ash. The old matters, washed away by currents to unknown destinations, have become things of the past invisible to sight. That I harbor no hidden schemes… surely you know this better than anyone.”
Silence descended.
Dokgo Hwi-hwa’s hand trembled upon her staff before she slowly opened her mouth.
“I don’t understand. I cannot fathom it. If time has passed, one should simply let it be forgotten. Yet you’ve traveled all this way—for what? To hear pleasant words?”
“I merely wished to ease the heart of a man dwelling alone upon what has passed.”
“….”
“Isn’t that what we elders are supposed to do?”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa let out a scoff.
“There’s no reasoning with you. This is precisely why I avoid conversing with monks and Taoists.”
She then whipped her head around to glare at Dokgo Myeong.
“What do you even understand right now, bringing that man into the main house?”
“Is it a problem for me to bring a guest to my own home?”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa exhaled a deep sigh.
“Just as I thought. You understand nothing. Ignorance breeds courage, they say….”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa fixed Heo Un-jin with a stern gaze.
“Yes, I trust your character. How could I doubt your integrity? But… I cannot trust the current Mudang.”
“….”
“Should he attempt to unearth that matter and cause any trouble, I will not remain idle. Do not forget the heavy price our main house paid that day.”
Heo Un-jin smiled bitterly.
“Infinite Buddha. That day was a tragedy for the Mudang as well.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa clicked her tongue and stepped aside.
Heo Un-jin, Dokgo Myeong, and Dokgo Ak proceeded slowly forward.
“…I know.”
Dokgo Hwi-hwa murmured in a low voice.
* * *
The sight of an elderly Taoist walking through the Dokgo Family grounds was not a common occurrence.
With each step, I felt the gazes of the family members. Yet not a single person came forward to greet me.
As we passed by the Dharma Protector Division in silence and approached the vicinity of the Swordsmanship Training Hall, someone finally drew near.
“Ak. Come here.”
“Yes?”
“This is not your place to be.”
Dokgo Jo-hak simply bowed once without a word and departed with Dokgo Ak.
“I apologize.”
“For what?”
“For causing you an unpleasant experience.”
“Haha, think nothing of it. It didn’t bother me at all.”
Dokgo Myeong led Heo Un-jin to a particularly secluded area of the family compound.
Shortly after, the two arrived at the entrance of a hall that felt somewhat desolate.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Sa Heon… Sa Heon-gak….”
Heo Un-jin’s eyes fixed on the nameplate.
For a long moment, he stared at the plaque with a complex expression, then nodded.
“Yes, so it was.”
“Why is that? Does the name Sa Heon-gak mean something….”
“It’s nothing. Anyway, I’ve kept you waiting far too long.”
That wasn’t what I meant—I hadn’t made Dokgo Myeong wait.
Heo Un-jin’s gaze was directed beyond the open door.
In the courtyard, Dokgo Wi-hak stood in white robes, having come out to greet him.
He must have heard news of today’s arrival, but how long had he been waiting?
Dokgo Wi-hak walked slowly forward.
His face was expressionless and composed as always.
Yet Dokgo Myeong detected something indescribable in that face—an emotion he had never seen from him before.
Dokgo Wi-hak spoke.
“I greet you, Heo Un Sabak. Thank you for undertaking such a long and difficult journey.”
Heo Un Sabak was a term referring to the senior brother of one’s sect leader.
In that instant, Dokgo Myeong felt the fine hairs across his entire body stand on end.
Glancing sideways at Heo Un-jin, I saw him regard Dokgo Wi-hak with an indescribable look in his eyes before opening his mouth with greater weight.
“It’s good to see you.”
“….”
“Truly, it’s good to see you.”
The words seemed drawn from the depths of his heart.
“Do you remember how many years have passed since we last met?”
“It will soon be twenty-nine years.”
“So much time has already slipped away.”
Heo Un-jin murmured as if sighing.
As the sky grew darker, silence descended as well.
Heo Un-jin’s lips moved several times over. It seemed he was choosing his words carefully.
Finally, his mouth opened.
“How should I call you…?”
“….”
“You called me Heo Un Sabak.”
“If it has been uncomfortable for you… please feel free to tell me.”
Heo Un-jin shook his head.
“Since you think of me as Heo Un Sabak, I too shall think of you as my junior brother.”
The conversation fell silent once more.
Dokgo Wi-hak looked at Dokgo Myeong.
“You step aside for now.”
“Sect Leader.”
“I will explain everything after it is all finished.”
Dokgo Wi-hak looked at Heo Un-jin.
“Let us go inside.”
Dokgo Wi-hak, observing the utmost courtesy, entered with Heo Un-jin.
* * *
Dokgo Myeong waited quietly in his room without going to the Enforcement Division or the Demon Suppression Bureau.
“Jang Han. Tell the Demon Suppression Bureau and Enforcement Division not to approach Sa Heon-gak no matter how urgent, understood?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Tell him not to call me unless the Sect Leader returns or the Crimson Blood Cult appears.”
“I shall do so. Do not worry.”
Dokgo Myeong sat by the window, lost in vacant thought.
‘Did I overstep my bounds?’
The thought suddenly occurred to me.
Was it truly my place to intervene, I who was both Dokgo Myeong and Dokgo Hyeon?
Whiiiiing!
When I came to my senses, I heard the sound of fierce wind from beyond the window.
I slowly opened the window, and white snow rushed into the room.
It was snowing.
Dokgo Myeong neither cultivated nor meditated, but simply sat quietly, watching the cascading snowflakes.
Time passed in this manner.
The snow ceased, dawn arrived, and the sun rose.
“Myeong-a.”
I heard Dokgo Wi-hak’s voice calling me from the courtyard outside the window.
“Come with me somewhere. Prepare yourself and come out.”
Dokgo Myeong replied.
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
* * *
When I stepped outside, the world was bathed in pure white light. The snow that had accumulated overnight gleamed in the dim light of dawn.
Dokgo Wi-hak stood waiting in white robes as pristine as the snow itself, his face calm and serene, revealing no hint of his thoughts.
“You are not cold, are you?”
“In all the realm, only the Sect Leader would ask me such a thing.”
At my jest, Dokgo Wi-hak smiled gently.
Before he could speak, Jang Sam approached.
“Young Master. Please take this with you.”
It was a bundle that appeared quite heavy at first glance.
“It contains food and wine inside, so you must handle it carefully.”
Dokgo Myeong nodded and carefully accepted the bundle.
Dokgo Wi-hak spoke.
“Then let us go.”
As we left Sa Heon-gak, Heo Un-jin watched our departing figures from behind in silent farewell.
“Are we leaving the family grounds?”
“We are.”
“Yes, I understand.”
There was much I wished to ask, but I held my tongue.
As we left the Black Dragon Gate, Dokgo Wi-hak gently pushed off the ground. I followed suit, pushing off as well.
We had to travel quite a distance from the family grounds.
Soon we arrived at a remote village where snow had fallen. Dokgo Wi-hak surveyed the quiet village for a moment before beginning to ascend the mountain.
‘Where am I?’
It was a mountain village nestled in a sunny, picturesque valley, yet nothing particularly distinguished it—save for its remote location, making it ideal as a hideaway or safe house.
Crunch, crunch.
Dokgo Wi-hak, leading the way up the snow-covered mountain, opened his mouth.
“How much do you know?”
As Dokgo Wi-hak spoke, his breath misted visibly in the cold air.
“Only that the Sect Leader was once the family’s assassin, that he has grievances with renowned sects, and that we call my teacher Heo Un Sabak.”
“Did Heo Un Sabak not tell you anything else?”
“He said there was an agreement about that.”
Dokgo Myeong asked.
“I hope I wasn’t being presumptuous in prying into matters I shouldn’t have?”
“No. I was planning to tell you soon anyway. Once you begin meeting the renowned figures of the martial world in earnest, my name will inevitably come up.”
“Where are we headed now?”
“You don’t remember?”
“…?”
“That’s right—you came here before you were even ten, and haven’t returned since.”
Dokgo Wi-hak exhaled a long sigh and continued.
“We’re going to your mother’s grave.”
“…!”
“It’s been so long, and with the snow, I’m having trouble finding the way.”
Dokgo Wi-hak wandered about searching for the path several times before finally stopping at a snow-covered flat area.
There was no gravestone.
Only a single, large pine tree stood there, its blue needles poking through in patches amid the white snow.
“This is it. Let’s clear away some of the snow.”
“Yes, of course.”
This much snow was trivial. I released my internal energy gently several times, and the accumulated snow swept away cleanly.
Dokgo Wi-hak placed his hand upon the pine tree and spoke.
“I’ve come far too late.”
A moment of silence passed.
From various branches, snow melted by the sunlight fell with soft pattering sounds.
“…?”
In that moment, Dokgo Myeong felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
‘What is this?’
Bewildered, I looked around in all directions.
This was certainly my first time visiting this place. Given that I’d lived only into my early twenties as Dokgo Myeong, that was only natural.
‘But why does it feel so familiar?’
A sense of familiarity.
What could this feeling possibly be?
Then, Dokgo Wi-hak turned his head.
“Bring the luggage.”
Dokgo Myeong snapped to attention and stepped forward.
“No, allow me to do this.”
“Very well, then.”
Dokgo Myeong deftly unwrapped the bundle, spread it across the ground, and arranged the wine and food upon it.
After observing proper etiquette, Dokgo Myeong seated himself across from Dokgo Wi-hak.
Though the day was bitterly cold, neither of them was affected by such trivial temperatures, lending the moment a certain refined charm.
“Pour yourself a cup.”
“Yes.”
“And pour one for yourself as well.”
The two drained their cups in unison.
Dokgo Wi-hak gazed at the pine trees as if gathering his thoughts, then finally spoke.
“Coming to this place frightened me. It seems I had been trying hard to forget. Yet that is the nature of memory—the more one strives to forget, the more vividly it returns.”
“If it causes you pain….”
“No. After spending so much time in conversation with Heo Un Sabak, I realized at some point the pain had ceased.”
Dokgo Wi-hak’s expression appeared remarkably at peace.
Deep wounds cannot be erased. They leave only profound scars in their wake.
Yet once a scar has healed, no amount of pressure upon it brings pain—only discomfort. The memory of that pain follows the same course.
“Your mother was a disciple of the Mudang Sect.”

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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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