Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 440

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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 440
Crunch. Crunch crunch.
A man trudged through the snow, his footsteps breaking the desolate silence of the barren white expanse.
With each step forward, his footprints traced a path behind him, only to be erased moments later by fresh falling snow.
Thud! Crunch!
The man was utterly unprepared for traversing such terrain.
Without snowshoes, his feet sank deep into the drifts with each step, and the thin black silk robe draped across his body was already drenched through.
Yet I—Hyeok Wi-sang—pressed forward without pause, as though undertaking a spiritual ordeal.
“Haah…”
My breath rose in pale clouds, obscuring my vision as it dissipated into the dark sky.
Beneath that black expanse stretched a snow-capped mountain so frigid it seemed capable of freezing even the most seething rage into crystalline silence.
The Heavenly Mountains.
I continued deeper into the peaks.
Soon, a colossal palace nestled within a remote gorge came into view.
This was the stronghold of the Divine Blood Sect.
“I’ve arrived.”
The sight did not please me.
This place was both paradise and prison—sheltered from external threats, yet simultaneously so barren and desolate it felt like isolation from the world itself.
Creak—eeeek!
The moment I reached the entrance, the doors swung open without any verification of my identity.
There were no gatekeepers, no sentries. None could exist here, for none could ascend the Heavenly Mountains.
“True Dharma practitioner, Musaeng Nomo.”
“Maitreya Buddha…”
Those passing by pressed their palms together in reverence.
At first glance, this place appeared not as a gathering of fanatics, but merely an ordinary mountain village—save for the fact that its inhabitants never spoke a single word except when offering their salutations.
Everything here possessed an uncanny, profound silence.
Footstep by footstep.
I walked leisurely toward a cave-like structure built along a sheer cliff face.
A grotesque and eerie space, its walls painted entirely in crimson, greeted me.
Hummmmm!
The air itself trembled.
Within the chamber—where bone-chilling cold, countless candles, and the stench of blood converged—a low, murmured incantation resonated.
In the center of the room sat an old nun in crimson robes, her legs folded in meditation.
“I have returned.”
The nun’s incantation ceased abruptly.
“You have come too soon.”
“There was interference.”
“You failed?”
“Yes.”
The nun turned her head.
He had a benevolent appearance and a compassionate smile.
“Venerable Musaeng Nomo of the True Void. It seems you have endured great hardship. Please set down your burden and rest.”
The nun turned to face forward again, as if to resume her chanting.
“You do not ask?”
“If the Sect Leader could not accomplish it, then no one else could have.”
“I cannot be certain, but the Jeongheol Sect Leader is likely dead.”
A long silence descended.
“And Cheonsal has certainly met his end.”
“….”
“Cheonsal’s death was due to the vessel of Yeokcheon Technique. That we could not even retrieve his corpse was because that opponent desecrated it through a surprise attack.”
That was the moment.
Kuuuung!
The air began to tremble.
“Not only Cheonsal, but the Jeongheol Sect Leader as well….”
The nun’s voice quivered finely.
Anger and sorrow were plainly etched across her face.
“You did not merely kill them, but desecrated their corpses?”
“That is correct.”
“Why did the Sect Leader not take blood revenge upon him?”
“He noticed and threatened to reverse his vital energy while holding a blade to his own throat.”
The nun looked at Hyeok Wi-sang.
His expression was as hard and cold as mountain ice.
“You should have killed him regardless.”
As if a different person had emerged, her voice turned frigid.
“Even if our great plan was delayed, you should have avenged their resentment.”
The benevolent and compassionate appearance of the old nun was nowhere to be found.
Hyeok Wi-sang was resolute.
“Our great plan would be delayed endlessly otherwise.”
“How can you leave their resentment unresolved when those as close as blood have died….”
“What they desired was also the completion of our great plan.”
Hyeok Wi-sang’s eyes flashed with intensity.
“Then tell me. How to complete the great technique without Hell Technique and Yeokcheon Technique.”
“Hell Technique can be created anew, but it is insufficient to replace Yeokcheon Technique.”
“If it is insufficient, then create it. Whatever sacrifice it demands.”
Hyeok Wi-sang finished speaking thus and gazed forward.
There stood a colossal Buddha statue. It had a unique form, holding with both hands an enormous sphere of ice.
The ice itself was no ordinary substance. It was a basin created from Ice Essence, which could only be obtained in minute quantities from the deepest reaches of Tianshan and the Northern Sea. Inside the basin, large enough for a single person to enter, was filled with a crimson liquid like human blood.
Yet it was not human blood, but the blood of mystical beasts and demonic creatures. Mixed within were also all manner of spiritual elixirs and the inner cores of fallen demonic entities.
It was but a moment.
Thunk!
A hand appeared on the surface of the tank, then slowly slid down.
There was a person inside.
An imposing frame, flawless skin, musculature approaching perfection.
Soon the face of a man with closed eyes was revealed.
Hyeok Wi-sang opened his mouth slowly.
“I can no longer bear to rot away in this place. I must stain that filthy earth with blood and complete our revenge.”
Hyeok Wi-sang stared at the tank with piercing intensity.
His face bore a striking resemblance to Dokgo Myeong.
“I will summon all those who have scattered. Now is not the time to test the bridge with caution—we must press forward even if we must wade through water.”
* * *
A sharp breath escaped her.
Baek Song’s eyes snapped open as she kicked free from her sleeping mat.
A metallic ring sang out.
A murderous aura flickered from the half-drawn Plum Blossom Sword.
Baek Song’s confused gaze darted about as she surveyed her surroundings.
“Haa… haa…”
The surroundings were dark and silent. No clash of blades, no arrows, no sound of cannons.
Only after realizing this was not a battlefield did a relieved sigh escape her.
“Phew.”
She sheathed her sword with difficulty and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘The same nightmare again.’
She had been plagued by terrible nightmares lately.
Jeongheol disciples surge like waves across the battlefield, and she swings her blade like a madwoman.
In the ruins after the battle, she stares at something. There, without fail, lies a Bloodfiend with eyes still open in death, and she sees her own reflection in those eyes.
Her blood-soaked form is scarcely different from the Bloodfiend.
At some moment, her former comrades suddenly turn their blades upon her. Before she knows it, she has become a Bloodfiend herself.
Then she wakes.
‘Why do the Bloodfiends go to such lengths?’
Baek Song sank into thought.
‘What do they seek? Why do they look upon us with such resentment? And we ourselves… what are we?’
The Bloodfiends are villains who commit karmic sins, so injustice and evil are their nature.
But are we truly righteous and virtuous?
We who have slain countless Bloodfiends and committed karmic sins ourselves—does the White Path truly deserve the name White?
“Haa.”
She rose, washing her face with dry hands.
As she stepped out of the barracks, she heard the restless stirring of the Meorak disciples. It seemed she was not the only one losing sleep.
‘I am unfit to lead.’
She could not think of a way to encourage them. The Cheonma disciples seemed to endure such trials well enough.
Perhaps it was simply a difference in the leader’s capability.
“….”
Baek Song, walking with a troubled heart, suddenly came to a halt.
She had spotted a woman sitting atop one of the barracks.
Before she could even wonder why the woman was perched up there, the woman turned her head.
“Sect Leader of Meorak?”
“…Manager Gwak.”
The two of them locked eyes like that.
Baek Song greeted her first with an awkward expression.
“Good morning.”
Ye-hwa replied flatly.
“The sun won’t rise for another hour or so.”
“….”
“Why are you awake?”
“And why are you, Manager Gwak….”
“I’m on night watch.”
“But you’re a manager?”
“Our Captain is so… particular that no manager is exempt.”
“Then surely the Jeonmu Army Captain doesn’t stand night watch either?”
“No.”
“…?”
“He said if you’re upset about it, become the Captain yourself.”
Let’s pretend I didn’t hear that.
Baek Song erased what she had just heard from her memory.
“But why are you sitting up there like that?”
“Because I’m on night watch.”
What did standing night watch have to do with sitting atop the barracks? Was it easier to keep watch from a higher vantage point?
‘If I had my way, I’d just pretend I didn’t see her and walk past….’
Baek Song found Ye-hwa uncomfortable in her heart.
Not just her, but many others found Ye-hwa difficult. Not only the Meorak Sect disciples, but some among the Cheonma Sect members seemed to feel the same way.
It was surely because of her unique aura.
Few words, an expressionless face that revealed nothing of her thoughts, a voice devoid of inflection and emotion.
Though her past and circumstances remained unknown, everyone suspected she was an assassin by origin.
‘She seemed to be particularly wary of me in particular.’
In that moment, Baek Song felt the gaze and turned her head, realizing that Ye-hwa was staring at her intently.
“Why, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
Out of nowhere?
“…You could indeed be called a beauty.”
“Pardon? What did you just say?”
“It’s nothing.”
In that moment, Ye-hwa changed the subject.
“You seem to be having trouble sleeping.”
“…Yes, a little.”
Baek Song smiled bitterly.
“To show such dishevelment at this stage, you still have far to go.”
“Everyone goes through this, so it’s fine.”
“The Cheonma Sect doesn’t, does it?”
“No.”
“Pardon?”
Tap, tap.
Ye-hwa suddenly tapped the space beside her lightly with her hand.
“…You want me to come up?”
She nodded.
“….”
Baek Song hesitated for a moment, then pushed off the ground.
She unfolded the Amhyang Pyo, the Gyeongsin technique that Hwasan prided itself on, but landed slightly below where Ye-hwa stood.
As Baek Song approached, Ye-hwa raised her hand.
“Do you see that barracks over there?”
Baek Song nodded.
“There’s a light on.”
Four shadows were visible outside the barracks.
Ye-hwa nodded.
“They’re the Managers.”
“What are they doing?”
“Drinking.”
“…Water, you mean?”
“Alcohol. Not water—alcohol.”
“…?”
What? Have they lost their minds?
Even though the battle is over, we’re still unable to return, and they’re doing this?
“Manager Ak was the one who suggested it first. I was there until a moment ago too. Whenever we get through something major, they gather like this.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Life is suffocating, isn’t it? So they share the burden together.”
“….”
“Life tastes bitter, but when you drink it together, it becomes bearable in its own way. They say it’s about sharing each person’s frustrations with one another.”
Baek Song’s eyes widened.
“Who said that?”
“Manager Geum.”
Silence fell.
Baek Song suddenly exhaled a long breath and asked.
“Does Manager Gwak ever wonder about what the right answer truly is?”
“Pardon?”
“This war, I mean. I don’t think I can charge forward like the Cheonma Sect does, focused only on what’s ahead. I haven’t even been able to look after my own subordinates.”
Ye-hwa fell silent for a moment before speaking bluntly.
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
“Pardon?”
“Captain Cheol and Sohwa—they’re different. Captain Cheol was never interested in such things anyway, and Sohwa is the type who doesn’t waver.”
Ye-hwa spoke with half-closed eyes and an expressionless face.
“I didn’t know what I liked or disliked, what I wanted or didn’t want to do. The old me wouldn’t have agonized over anything. I simply lived as I was told, drifting along.”
Baek Song’s eyes widened. Though different in feeling, there was something familiar about it.
“The Captain told me that’s possible for humans. That it’s only a matter of being a bit late.”
“Only a matter of being late?”
“That making mistakes, doubting, worrying, and wandering—that’s what makes someone human.”
I wondered if that’s why Dokgo Myeong gives even the worst of humans a chance.
Of course, from the second time onward, he shows no mercy and beats them mercilessly.
Baek Song asked with difficulty.
“So then, how am I supposed to find an answer?”
“I asked the same thing. What’s the right answer, I said. Can you guess what the Captain said?”
“I’m curious.”
Ye-hwa suddenly changed her tone.
“How would I know? Pak!”
“Y-yes?”
“It’s your life you’re living, so you have to find your own answer. The most dangerous people are always those who tell others they have the right answer. Just flip those bastards on their heads!”
“…?!”
“That’s what he said.”
Her manner of speaking resembled Dokgo Myeong’s, but without the inflection—blunt and monotone—which caught me off guard for a moment.
“What if your own thinking is wrong?”
“Then you take responsibility for it.”
“Pardon?”
“When you live only as you’re told, following orders, you don’t have to. But if you want to live your own way, you have to bear the responsibility yourself. I’ve found it’s quite difficult.”
“Ah, well that’s….”
Baek Song was momentarily flustered.
She had never been taught that way. No, the world had never taught her that way.
She had to diligently follow her master’s teachings, and she learned that the world’s standards and evaluations were the right answers. Everywhere she was taught not to deviate from the mold, never to act on her own.
“So that’s why others see us as people charging forward with only our eyes ahead. In truth, we’re the ones shaken the most.”
Baek Song felt an indescribable sensation—as if her mind was becoming clearer, yet simultaneously more suffocated.
Baek Song murmured.
“Now that I think about it… I’ve never had a drink with my subordinates. I should try it this time.”
She felt her heart lighten somewhat.
Ye-hwa spoke.
“That’s a good idea.”
Baek Song gazed at Ye-hwa’s profile.
Though her expression remained impassive, something about her seemed subtly pleased, and I found it rather endearing.
That was when it happened.
“Hahaha!”
Laughter echoed from the tent.
Baek Song let out a soft chuckle.
“Indeed, Dokgo Ak is quite remarkable. You must have suggested drinks to look after your companions’ wellbeing.”
“Pardon?”
“What?”
“…?”
Ye-hwa blinked her eyes.
“That thoughtless man would never have such consideration.”
“Thoughtless? He strikes me as quite a thoughtful person.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Wasn’t I speaking of Dokgo Ak?”
“That oblivious man has depth?”
“Does he not?”
“Ah, well, um, yes. That’s right.”
Ye-hwa stammered visibly, her expression turning awkward.
Meanwhile, inside the tent where the two had gone.
One man lay tossing and turning.
‘Why are those two making such a racket while people are trying to sleep? Ugh!’
Dokgo Myeong furrowed his brow and plugged his ears with his blanket.

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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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