Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 444

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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 444
Though Dokgo Myeong sang of wanting rest, he had not truly abandoned everything.
As the commander of the Jeonmu Army, there remained duties to fulfill in the aftermath of battle.
“Meorak Sect total strength: one hundred fifty-eight. Casualties: twenty-nine. Severely wounded: eighteen.”
“….”
“Cheonma Sect total strength: two hundred. Casualties: nine. Severely wounded: twelve.”
“….”
Upon hearing the report, Dokgo Myeong drew a hand across his face.
‘Thirty-eight dead alone.’
The severely wounded had no choice but to retire, and among the lightly injured, many had requested discharge for various reasons, unable to return to active duty.
And among the casualty list were those I knew well.
“Jang Cheol and Yeom Jeok have fallen. Jang Cheol shielded others with his body as one unleashed a self-destruct technique… Yeom Jeok became isolated among enemy forces….”
Moryong Sohgyo’s face was heavy with sorrow as she reported.
Jang Cheol was a man of deft hands and fine voice, while Yeom Jeok, a former elite ronin, had carried a grudge from Mandeungga that extended into the Cheonma Sect.
Both possessed spirited, resourceful natures. Being older, they had served as elder brothers to the disciples, and with their rich experience in the martial world, they had aided me and my captains in countless ways.
“Understood. Are the funeral preparations complete?”
“Yes. Heo Un-jin has offered to personally oversee the joint funeral rites.”
“The bereaved families?”
“They are arriving in turn. However, some have not yet been reached, and others have no relatives, being orphans of fate.”
“Do what you can to search for them… I must go at once.”
Soon the requiem ceremony began.
I dressed in formal robes instead of my Dragon Scale Robe, and carried no weapons. All who attended did the same.
Heo Un-jin presided over the proceedings.
For all living beings under heaven, for the peace of the commoners, for righteousness and the Alliance… hollow words continued, adorning the deaths of those already gone.
‘Death, no matter how adorned, remains death.’
Comrades with whom I had eaten, slept, trained, and fought together for a time both short and long.
One who had joked about drinking together after training, who had always stood beside me when I turned around—now that person would never stand there again.
Whoooosh!
Those whose remains could be buried were laid to rest in sunny places, but many could not be.
For them, what remained was gathered together and cremated.
It was then that Hong Lu and Hong Ta stepped forward. They stood before the flames in exotic garments unlike their usual dress.
“Ahhh.”
The two began to sing and dance with carefully composed voices.
It was a sight somewhat unfamiliar to martial world customs, but the overwhelming atmosphere they exuded prevented anyone from interfering.
The mournful dance and song of the shamans, soothing the wandering spirits, continued until the requiem ended and the flames died down.
“Stop now. You have done enough.”
As darkness fell, Ye-hwa stepped forward and stopped the two siblings.
“Any further and the path ahead will not be easy.”
Though Ye-hwa grasped their shoulders, the siblings continued to wave their hands through the air, murmuring words in a mournful tone.
Seeing their pupils dilated and unfocused, Ye-hwa finally raised her voice.
“Stop!”
The two of them snapped back to awareness as if drenched in cold water.
Thump.
Their eyes bewildered and exhausted, they soon collapsed as if losing consciousness.
Dokgo Myeong approached.
“Are they alright?”
“They seem to have gone quite deep into it.”
“….”
“Since they’ve become Cheonma Sect members now, they may run a slight fever for a day or so… but they should be fine.”
Members of my unit came out and took them to the Alliance’s medical division.
Ye-hwa watched their departing figures with a bitter gaze.
“Will we become numb to this as well?”
Dokgo Myeong spoke.
“Even if we don’t become numb, we must become numb.”
“….”
“But let us try our best not to. Let us grow accustomed on the surface, yet remain unchanged within.”
At Dokgo Myeong’s words, Ye-hwa and the other captains nodded their heads.
The funeral rites continued for five days.
Dokgo Myeong, Baek Song, and the captains of each unit kept vigil throughout those five days.
* * *
As news of Dokgo Myeong’s victory spread, the Murim Alliance moved into action.
The completed organizations began functioning properly, martial artists from affiliated sects were summoned, and policies encouraging enrollment were implemented for those not yet members.
The beginning of the White Plan.
“The Nine Sects are finally beginning proper war preparations!”
“I should take the entrance examination myself. They say that those with talent receive not only elixirs but also opportunities for learning.”
“I wish to apply for membership!”
Those who had wandered the martial world independently rushed to apply for membership, and numerous existing sects and martial families began following the tide.
Public opinion sweeping across the entire martial world played its part in this.
-Come to the Murim Alliance, you who dream of achieving prominence, you who harbor aspirations of glory.
-Are those with strength who hide in fear of the Twin Horse Alliance not worse than beasts without shame?
Strangely, such talk began circulating simultaneously across all the Central Plains.
Of course, there was resistance.
“So you’re telling me to send my disciples to the battlefield! I have no intention whatsoever of sending my precious disciples to their deaths, so be gone!”
“I understand. But are you certain?”
“Certain about what?”
“Whether your sect wins or loses in the coming war, you will have to endure considerable scrutiny and disadvantages.”
“Are you threatening me now? The Murim Alliance, the council of the martial world? How dare you be so vicious!”
“We ask for your wise decision. Should you join, you will not only become a hero but receive appropriate compensation and rewards.”
“You, you…!”
Undeniably unrighteous acts followed, yet regardless, the Murim Alliance succeeded in uniting hundreds of sects beneath its banner.
Yet voices naturally rose in protest, and the same discord echoed within the Murim Alliance itself.
A mere fortnight had passed since the Jeonmu Army’s return.
The Murim Alliance had begun bending the currents of the realm to its will.
The world had grown more turbulent than ever before.
And within that turbulence, Dokgo Myeong groaned.
* * *
“Please….”
“….”
“Please, just let me rest….”
Moryong Sohgyo gazed at Dokgo Myeong with pitying eyes.
But work was work, regardless.
Thud!
“This is the roster of those seeking additional enlistment in the Meorak Sect.”
Thud!
“This is the requisition for consumables and medicinal materials.”
Thud!
“And this is the draft for formation training from the Jegal Clan….”
Dokgo Myeong suddenly cried out.
“Aaaaagh! Stop! I said stop! I won’t! I’m a patient! Can’t you see!?”
Dokgo Myeong, wrapped in bandages instead of clothes with a dragon-scale robe draped over him like a blanket, thrashed about.
Twenty days had passed since his return.
Even with his superhuman recovery, it was far too soon—his bones hadn’t even fully knitted yet.
“What can we do? You’ll simply have to work while resting.”
“This, this insufferable…!”
“Geum Seok-du even had that adjustable desk and reclining bed made so you could review documents while lying down.”
“That bastard Seok-du made this!?”
“Who else would craft such furnishings?”
“Geum Seok-du! I’ll have you for this!”
“Rather than waste time on anger, wouldn’t it be better to finish quickly and rest?”
“Ugh.”
Dokgo Myeong leaned back against the adjustable bed and proceeded with his work.
Once he actually started, he finished swiftly enough—it was always the beginning that took forever. What was all that fussing about earlier?
“The White Plan is already underway.”
“It seems the Blue Plan will proceed once Baek Jang-mun returns.”
“Is there significant resistance?”
“The General is suppressing it with remarkable skill.”
Dokgo Myeong nodded.
“That should buy us some time.”
“How much would you estimate?”
“Well, since Baek Mu-heun has drawn his blade, we should have at least half a year to a year of breathing room.”
Regardless of whether I liked it or not, the Jeonmu Army’s casualties were severe enough that we needed time to reorganize.
“How are the disciples doing?”
Dokgo Myeong asked while brushing his brush across the documents.
“Some are already getting out of bed, while others are just regaining consciousness.”
“Who’s recovering faster? The Meorak Sect or the Cheonma Sect?”
“The Meorak Sect disciples are recovering more quickly.”
Dokgo Myeong ground his teeth.
“Those cunning, filthy disciples of a prestigious sect. If they’ve been training in orthodox martial arts, they should be weaker.”
“…Why are you developing such strange competitive feelings about that?”
Dokgo Myeong handed another document to Moryong Sohgyo while muttering.
“Orthodox martial arts, huh…”
“Do you have some concern?”
“I’m wondering if either the Meorak Sect or the Cheonma Sect needs to advance to the next level.”
The Meorak Sect’s development direction is straightforward—simply reflecting on the lessons from this battle.
Meanwhile, the Cheonma Sect’s practical combat effectiveness and battle prowess are at a level where discussing it would exhaust anyone.
But what about individual martial strength?
It’s somewhat ambiguous. The level of the Drummer goes without saying, but the orthodox martial theory standards are somewhat lacking.
“How long do you think it will take to resume training?”
“Including rehabilitation, I’d say we need at least two more months.”
“That’s quite a while.”
“It’s actually on the shorter side. Everyone has been through intense combat.”
“Tell them to focus on energy circulation training. Both those who are up and about and those still lying down.”
“Yes.”
“How are you holding up, Soldier? You look tired.”
Moryong Sohgyo smiled gently.
“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. And how are you doing, Captain?”
She looked at Dokgo Myeong with renewed worry in her eyes.
“Our Moyang Soldier is so concerned about everything, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Dokgo Myeong grinned and stamped his seal on the final document.
Then he suddenly stood up and sat on the edge of the bed.
Moryong Sohgyo, who had reached out to support him, froze in place.
“…Why did you sit down so easily?”
“I’m mostly recovered now.”
“So you were just being dramatic before?”
“Dramatic? I was really dying from the pain.”
“…”
“Moyang Soldier. Your eyes are being disrespectful.”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
“Don’t forget. I’m your commander.”
“I live each day with gratitude.”
“Just a moment ago, you were clearly looking at me like I was some kind of insect.”
“You must be mistaken.”
If it was a mistake, why did I see that murderous glint flash across your eyes?
* * *
The Jeonmu Army recovered rapidly with the support of various elixirs and tonics. In particular, the Meorak Sect Disciples benefited greatly when their respective sect elders visited and bolstered their vital energy.
After about two months devoted solely to recuperation.
Though some still couldn’t get up, most had gathered at the training grounds.
“All rise! To our Captain…!”
“Everyone sit down. There’s no need for such formalities.”
“But….”
“I said that’s enough.”
Baek Song looked slightly flustered before nodding her head.
Dokgo Myeong immediately climbed onto the platform and plopped down unceremoniously at its edge.
Yet even the rigid martial artists of the Meorak Sect no longer frowned at such behavior.
Now they had witnessed it firsthand.
The strength hidden behind that frivolous demeanor, the sincerity in keeping vigil through the night for the funeral rites, the tenderness in making rounds day and night to the wounded quarters to regulate their vital energy.
“I see that everyone now looks at me with respect. I always say a person needs to go through some hardship.”
The Jeonmu Army burst into laughter all at once.
Even the Cheonma Sect and Meorak Sect, which seemed impossible to blend, had grown somewhat closer.
“I won’t waste time with long speeches. You’ve all worked hard. But you’ll need to work even harder from now on.”
“….”
“Baek has achieved feats befitting an elite force, but our enemies are even stronger. We must become stronger.”
“….”
“First, the Meorak Sect.”
Baek Song, who had been standing with rigid propriety, brightened her eyes.
“Yes, Captain.”
“The Meorak Sect needs more real combat experience.”
“Yes.”
“If you still have any face to save, you should cast it aside quickly. I trust you understand why I’m saying this.”
“….”
How much had they felt on the battlefield for the first time? There was no need to say more.
“In reality, the Meorak Sect’s command rests with the Captain. There are lessons that can only be learned through bloodshed. I’m entrusting this to you.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“And the Cheonma Sect.”
The Cheonma Sect Disciples looked up at Dokgo Myeong.
What absurd task was he about to assign them?
“You are temporarily disbanded.”
At this completely unexpected announcement, the disciples’ reaction came a beat too late.
“Pardon?”
“What do you mean by that, sir?”
“Disbanding us?”
Dokgo Myeong spoke calmly.
“You’ll scatter and train individually. I’ve already made the decision. Rather than the unit-based training you’ve been doing, each of you will refine your martial prowess as individual warriors.”
“Y-yes?”
“Until I call upon you, consider the Cheonma Sect disbanded. You won’t regroup.”
The disciples were thrown into confusion without exception.
“W-wait, so suddenly?”
“This is far too abrupt!”
At that moment, Geum Seok-du whispered to Dokgo Myeong.
“Captain. We’ve never operated separately before. Everyone will need an explanation.”
Dokgo Myeong nodded in understanding and spoke.
“The reason is simple.”
Dokgo Myeong’s gaze swept across the Cheonma Sect disciples.
“You’re weak.”
Silence fell.
Some of them stiffened, unable to believe they’d hear such words before the Meorak Sect disciples.
“You are strong as a sect, but weak as individual martial artists. Of course, I’m not comparing you to common rabble. However, considering the enemies you’ll face ahead, you must become flawless masters.”
In the battles to come, individual martial prowess would be just as crucial as tactics.
‘I’ve paid attention to personal combat strength, but truthfully, I’ve prioritized mission execution and practical combat ability in training.’
Now was the time to eliminate all shortcomings in every aspect.
These disciples needed to forge their own paths as martial artists.
“How long, sir?”
“At minimum, six months. At most, a year to a year and a half.”
That was long.
For the Cheonma Sect, which had never scattered before, more than six months was no trivial span of time.
The timing was particularly cruel.
With the Jeonmu Army’s reputation at its peak, the Cheonma Sect could gain both renown and standing simply by continuing their missions.
Yet Dokgo Myeong was ordering a temporary retreat.
“I and the captains will also move separately. I’m entrusting you because I trust you. Understood?”
“…We obey.”
Yang Un-rang answered first.
“We obey. We will follow.”
Following his lead, all the Cheonma Sect disciples nodded.
Dokgo Myeong rose from his seat immediately.
“Then I look forward to when we reunite.”
“…”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed.
“If you return having grown weaker, I’ll beat you senseless.”
There was no getting off easy with him.
The Cheonma Sect disciples dispersed, each letting out hollow laughs or shaking their heads.

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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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