Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 402

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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 402
“Where should I even begin….”
Dokgo Wi-hak murmured in a low voice.
The snow-covered mountains were so profoundly silent that even a whispered utterance carried clearly.
“How much do you know of that era’s circumstances?”
“Only what others know, I’m afraid.”
The period following the chaos, when the Three Sovereigns emerged and the martial world’s rules were reestablished.
“Good. I didn’t particularly want to speak of those times. It might sound like I’m making excuses, blaming the era.”
“Excuses?”
“I don’t wish to attribute the blood on my hands to the fault of the times.”
Dokgo Wi-hak took a sip of wine. In his eyes, gazing down at the mountain ranges, an indescribable emotion flickered.
“The main house faced countless challenges and conflicts. All manner of schemes were necessary to secure power and interests, and it fell to me to handle such matters.”
“I’ve heard the epithet ‘Sword Demon’ arose from that.”
“Indeed. Do you know of the Hyeongsan Sect?”
On Hyeongsan, one of the Five Peaks of the martial world, there existed a sword sect called the Hyeongsan Sect.
Uniquely, it was a school that transmitted distinctive and profound teachings blending Buddhism, Taoism, and even Confucianism, though it was known to have declined severely after the war.
“It was originally one of the Nine Great Sects. Few remember it now.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Why would so few remember? Wasn’t it because he had made it so?
“Beyond that, there was the Baekun Mountain Manor, a martial sect in Kangso; the Hocheon Trading Company, the greatest merchant house of Kangnam; the elders of the Hwangsan Sect; and the hundred-arhat monks of Shaolin… This father was not a clean man. Rather, he was the filthiest person in the martial world of that era.”
“That was simply how things were in those times, wasn’t it?”
Dokgo Myeong spoke as if offering comfort. But Dokgo Wi-hak shook his head.
“As I said, I don’t wish to blame the era.”
“….”
“I was neither one thing nor another. That made it all the worse. I had no loyalty to the family, no ambition for the world, no conviction of any kind. I simply wielded my blade as ordered, tossed about here and there like a leaf caught in the wind. No different from those eyes trembling in the breeze over there.”
Now I understood why everyone described the Sect Leader as a sharp blade.
Not because he wielded the sword with demonic skill, but because he was a man possessed by a demon within the sword itself.
His life was closer to that of a tool and an assassin than a person or martial artist.
“Once the south was sufficiently pacified, the main house sought to expand its dominion northward. Naturally, there were many assassination missions to undertake.”
“Is that when you came into conflict with the Mudang?”
“It was the opposite.”
“Pardon?”
“I met my master there… A man who used the Taoist name Heo Heon.”
Dokgo Wi-hak’s eyes reached toward some distant day of the past.
“During an assassination, I ingested poison. I collapsed while cultivating my energy in the mountains, and when I came to, I was lying in some rural medical clinic. It was Heo Heon who had taken care of me.”
Dokgo Myeong pondered that name for a moment.
‘…Heon.’
A name I’d never heard before. Yet the characters themselves felt familiar.
“What manner of man was he?”
“He was bright and righteous. He had a fiery side that would not tolerate injustice. He was a man respected by all.”
“What a remarkable person he must have been.”
There are people like that from time to time.
Even sitting still, they gather people around them—those whose character itself surpasses any other talent.
“Yes, he was truly remarkable. Even after hearing my station, he rebuked me without hesitation, as if to say ‘so what?'”
“Is that so?”
“He scolded me harshly. For an entire day while I lay on my sickbed, I had to endure endless sermons. If I so much as tried to sleep, he would infuse me with vital energy to wake me, all while continuing to rebuke me.”
Wait, why does this feel familiar?
‘Where have I experienced this before?’
So that’s where he learned his methods of disciplining me!
“But what on earth was he scolding you about?”
Dokgo Wi-hak chuckled.
“I heard many things, but what he primarily said was along the lines of: ‘Born as a man, and yet you do such shameful things?'”
Suddenly, Dokgo Myeong imagined that day.
A human butcher reeking of blood and murderous intent, and a stern-faced Taoist loudly shouting his rebukes.
“His martial prowess was inferior to mine, and by position, he was from a rival sect—what do you think it must have been like?”
“Just hearing about it makes me dizzy.”
“Yes, he was no ordinary person.”
It was the first time the Sect Leader had spoken at such length, as he rarely spoke much.
Moreover, the Sect Leader continued speaking as if he had long wished to tell this story, even offering a faint smile.
“It was the first time. Someone had ever spoken to me of shame.”
“….”
“Remarkably, I felt truly unbearable shame. Toward myself.”
“He truly was… no ordinary person.”
Dokgo Wi-hak drank from his cup with a bitter expression.
The story continued.
“Somehow, I ended up accompanying him to the Mudang. I kept receiving scolding, yet strangely, those moments brought me great peace.”
Dokgo Wi-hak poured more wine into his empty cup.
The amount of wine he had brought was not enough to intoxicate, so he drank slowly. Besides, he had no intention of getting drunk, nor could he afford to in this situation.
“And there, I met my Master’s disciple. Her name was Song Hyang. She would have become a formal nun with the name Yeong-ja upon official ordination.”
At that moment, Dokgo Myeong felt his chest tighten.
‘Song Hyang?’
The moment he heard that name, his heart began to race uncontrollably.
“I told you her name when you were young. It was your mother’s name.”
With those words, Dokgo Wi-hak withdrew a scroll from his robe, gazed at it for a moment, then handed it to Dokgo Myeong.
It was a portrait of a woman whose appeal lay not in extraordinary beauty but in her vibrant charm. After staring at the painting for a long while, Dokgo Myeong returned the scroll to Dokgo Wi-hak before he could continue the story.
“She was as forthright as my Master, perhaps even more so. I had never seen anyone so full of vitality.”
Dokgo Wi-hak’s expression softened considerably.
“Your mother surpassed even my Master. Now that I think about it, your reckless nature—it’s not mere coincidence, is it? She was the same way.”
Dokgo Myeong glanced at him and broke into a grin.
“So you formed a master-disciple bond with someone named Heo Heon? Then it was love between fellow disciples. A forbidden love, no less… it’s far more remarkable than I imagined.”
Dokgo Wi-hak offered a faint smile at my light-hearted jest meant to ease the atmosphere.
“It was never a formal discipleship. Truth be told, even back then I didn’t consider him my master. I simply called him Heo Heon-jin.”
“How long did that continue?”
“How long was it? I only remember the seasons passing several times over.”
After that, Dokgo Wi-hak spoke of those bygone days without my asking—memories that painted his face with expressions and tones I’d never witnessed before, making him appear genuinely delighted.
But soon his expression darkened once more.
“One day, my whereabouts were discovered.”
Dokgo Myeong glanced down at his cup.
Before long, Dokgo Wi-hak was refilling both his own cup and Dokgo Myeong’s.
“The Mudang faction actually discovered it earlier, but I managed to survive thanks to Heo Un Sabak turning a blind eye. The main house was also continuously searching for my whereabouts.”
“What happened then?”
“I descended the mountain. Your mother came down with me. My master was actually pleased and sent me off. As for the main house….”
“They must have opposed it greatly.”
Dokgo Wi-hak nodded silently.
“A direct line marriage was precisely the right tool for the expanding main house.”
“But bringing a disciple from a rival sect as your wife… what did the Sect Leader say?”
Dokgo Wi-hak shook his head.
“The Sect Leader was away on a journey. The real problem was the Outer Hall Master at that time—your uncle, Dokgo Gyeong. He was… the root cause of everything.”
“…Dokgo Gyeong?”
“You’ve never heard of him?”
“No, I haven’t.”
A name I’d never encountered in either my past or present life.
Even when I occasionally consulted the family records, only the Jipbeop-bu Leader was listed among the Sect Leader’s siblings.
In other words, it was a name the main house had erased.
“Regardless, the Sect Leader always seems absent at the most critical moments.”
“Or perhaps someone deliberately acts when he’s away.”
That was also a fair point.
The shadow of Geom-jon was too difficult to fathom.
“What exactly happened?”
Dokgo Wi-hak’s voice grew considerably quieter.
“He set a condition. If I wanted to continue living with Song Hyang, I had to keep working as an assassin.”
“No, how could he….”
“It was of my own making. I’d waded too deeply into the debts and grudges of the martial world—how could I alone escape cleanly?”
“….”
“I accepted it willingly. But it was different from those days. Everything had changed.”
It was possible precisely because the martial world had grown far more peaceful by then. Around that time, he who had been called the Sword Specter in the shadows came to be known as one of the Twin Dragons of Dokgo in the light.
“Instead of assassination, martial contests; instead of coercion, negotiations… I handled matters according to my own standards, not the family’s. If I deemed something wrong, I refused outright.”
Dokgo Myeong’s expression hardened.
Even hearing just that much, I could surmise what conflict had arisen.
Dokgo Wi-hak read that expression and laughed bitterly.
“I was foolish. I should never have compromised from the start. Gyeong Sugu must have believed I was a liability to the clan.”
Dokgo Wi-hak drew a deep breath and continued.
“Around that time, tensions between the Mudang and the main branch intensified. In those days, there were many within the Mudang’s Heo faction who had their eyes blinded by worldly gains. It was mainly their business dealings that created friction with the main branch.”
“Surely you didn’t become entangled with them?”
“I did.”
It was ominous.
Though it was something long past, Dokgo Myeong felt as though his hair was standing on end.
“One day, an incident occurred where members of the Mudang’s secular faction murdered our main branch’s household servants. And then an order arrived for me.”
“A trap.”
“Precisely the beginning of a trap. It was true that they had harmed our people. The problem was that it was done under someone’s orders.”
“….”
“There were several disputes, and the grievances became so tangled that it became unclear who held the moral ground. Then I received another order.”
“What did it say?”
“Jie-zhe-jie-zhi. It meant to settle all grievances through a martial duel according to the laws of the martial world.”
Curses rose to Dokgo Myeong’s throat, so he drank deeply to force them down before speaking.
“So Dokgo Gyeong had some kind of understanding with the upper echelons of the Mudang.”
Dokgo Wi-hak nodded.
“There was a faction in opposition to Heo Un Sabak, who was the Sect Leader. They needed something that would diminish the Sect Leader’s influence. A conflict with the main branch would have been perfect for that.”
“….”
“On the other hand, Gyeong Sugu wanted to eliminate an eyesore and gain control of Honam’s interests. Their interests aligned perfectly.”
Crack!
Without realizing it, I gripped the cup so hard it shattered.
“This ‘settle all grievances’ is nothing but sacrificial pawns, isn’t it?”
“….”
“It must have been a duel I could never win from the start. Moreover, if I lost, I would simply die in that duel, wouldn’t I?”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because only if Yong-hyeol dies—only if he must die—could they use that grudge.”
Dokgo Wi-hak laughed bitterly.
My son, who had keen insight into schemes and political maneuvering, had seen through everything I had tried not to speak of.
Dokgo Myeong clicked his tongue.
“Why didn’t you refuse? There were ways to escape.”
“A hostage was being held.”
“…A hostage?”
Dokgo Wi-hak stared directly at him.
‘It’s you. The Dokgo Myeong in my wife’s womb.’
Understanding the meaning of that gaze, a long sigh escaped Dokgo Myeong’s lips.
“When I arrived at the designated place, many renowned figures of the martial world were gathered there. Mostly those who held grudges against me.”
Had the Mudang invited them to share the blame?
Or did they simply want to use a knife to kill with another’s hand?
“Your uncle approached my ear at that gathering and whispered: if you flee, I will kill your wife.”
My voice gradually cracked. Deep sorrow and regret seeped through every word.
“The martial contest had begun. I was prepared to die as I wished. It seemed like that was the only way everything would end.”
“….”
“It was a wheel tournament. I won the first three or four matches with ease, and as injuries accumulated… my Master arrived and stepped onto the arena.”
Dokgo Myeong asked with difficulty.
“Surely… you didn’t fight him?”
That would have been too cruel.
But I shook my head.
“If only that had been the case. Then I could have died peacefully by my Sect Leader’s hand….”
I gripped the bottle tightly. My fingertips trembled faintly.
Dokgo Myeong quickly took the bottle from me and poured the last of the liquor into my cup.
“My Master rebuked everyone in the audience. Just as he had done to me before. His bearing was so formidable that no one could speak. And then he looked at me.”
I seemed to remember that moment with perfect clarity.
“I asked him, ‘Sage, why are you here?’ My Master replied, ‘I’m sorry for coming so late. Now everything will be alright.’ I asked him what could possibly be alright, and my Master said….”
I paused for a moment, then spoke in a hollow voice.
“My disciple. Carry this burden forward. Come as late as you can.”
I looked up at the sky for a moment, then drained the cup in one gulp.
“Even then, I didn’t think of him as my Master, yet it seems I was already his disciple.”
“….”
“And so he took all the debts and grudges upon himself.”
I didn’t dare speak of what Heo Heon-jin had done, and Dokgo Myeong didn’t press me to say.
A long silence fell, and the rest of the story continued in a hushed voice.

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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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