Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 469

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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 469
Dokgo Cheon took a sip of his drink.
“So that was your first question?”
“Yes, and I believe all these questions are connected.”
“….”
“That expression when we first met, your non-interference all this time—or rather, your inability to interfere. Am I not correct?”
“Yes, all of it is connected.”
A brilliant gleam flashed across Dokgo Myeong’s eyes.
“Who was it?”
“….”
“You departed on a journey to settle the score with the Three Masters, didn’t you?”
Perhaps Dokgo Myeong was the person in this world who understood Dokgo Cheon best.
He was the only one who affirmed the perfection of martial arts that everyone—even his own children—deemed impossible, and the sole person he had taught.
“I intended to seek out both of them.”
Dokgo Cheon spoke in a calm tone.
“But circumstances permitted only one.”
Dokgo Myeong swallowed hard.
So he truly had faced the Three Masters.
Which meant….
“Did you perfect it? That sword technique from back then—did you truly perfect it?”
Dokgo Cheon let out a laugh.
“Is there such a thing as perfection in this world? I merely established the forms and principles.”
“That’s unlike you, speaking in riddles. Just say it plainly, won’t you?”
“Now you’re even interrogating this old man?”
“If you perfected it, you haven’t forgotten that my help went into it as well, have you?”
Dokgo Cheon chuckled softly.
“Well, if you insist on a direct answer….”
Dokgo Cheon raised his cup with graceful elegance as he replied.
“I perfected it.”
“…!!”
Dokgo Cheon had sought to create the greatest sword form under heaven—one that transcended trivial conditions and matchups, conquering all through pure inner power and technique alone.
And now he was saying he had completed it.
“Then you won?”
“I defeated one of the Three Masters after four days and nights of combat.”
Crunch.
Dokgo Myeong clenched his fist tightly.
To face someone in combat and determine victory or defeat.
Until now, he had considered such things meaningless and childish, yet it seemed he too was a martial artist. His chest burned with heat without his realizing it.
“So, which one did you defeat?”
At Dokgo Myeong’s question, Dokgo Cheon smiled enigmatically.
“Look here. The blood of Dokgo Cheon flows through you as well, make no mistake.”
“Pardon?”
“A fellow who claimed that becoming the best under heaven was a foolish pursuit—yet here you are, neglecting far more important matters and showing keen interest in perfecting your martial arts and winning or losing. If only you could see your own face right now. Hehehehe!”
Dokgo Myeong touched his facial muscles with the expression of someone who had just taken a blow.
Dokgo Cheon extended a wine bottle.
“Have a drink.”
“…Yes.”
Just as Dokgo Myeong respectfully accepted the cup and was about to drink, Dokgo Cheon’s quiet voice reached his ears.
“He was a Martial Sovereign.”
“…!”
“We drew countless times, exchanged victories and defeats one by one, and as time passed… I claimed victory.”
The all-capable martial artist of perfect completeness—Sipjeon Mujeon.
Cheolhyeol Geomjeon had defeated Sipjeon Mujeon.
“Then is the Sect Leader stronger than him now?”
“A victory already decided cannot be reversed.”
Though Dokgo Cheon spoke with confidence, his voice soon softened slightly.
“But that one’s thoughts will differ. He likely thinks, ‘If we fight again, I will win.’ It is the cry of the defeated, but… truthfully, I cannot say with certainty who is stronger.”
“What is the truth then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Keep that solemnity for others, and speak honestly to me alone. So who truly is stronger?”
For a moment, Dokgo Cheon nearly burst into loud laughter at those words.
‘Who is stronger.’
Yes, was that not the primal question that drove him forward?
‘This cunning grandson of mine.’
Dokgo Cheon’s smile deepened.
Those provocative eyes, that impudent tone—they threw kindling onto his humanity and desires, which had been gradually extinguishing.
They pulled his time, which had already risen as ash toward the heavens, back down to the earth below.
“Even if we fought again, this old man would emerge victorious.”
“…”
“Right now, I am stronger. That alone is the truth.”
In that moment, Dokgo Myeong sensed a vitality in Dokgo Cheon that he had never witnessed before.
Ah, so this is his dream.
To have shared an era with a worthy rival and, over a lifetime, to have contended and seized victory. Could there be anything more fulfilling than this?
“Is that why you seemed slightly shaken when we first met earlier?”
“It appeared that way to you?”
“Yes.”
Dokgo Cheon chuckled softly, slowly poured wine into his mouth, and nodded.
“Of course. After fighting an evenly matched opponent, even this old man cannot escape without some cost.”
Usually, if one had suffered losses, they would appear exhausted, yet Dokgo Cheon moments earlier had seemed to have gone beyond that.
“All three of us had already drawn close to a certain threshold. It was only natural.”
“Is that why the Three Masters all withdrew from the front lines at once?”
“There’s that aspect to it as well.”
A brief silence fell between them.
The realm of absolutes was still beyond my comprehension.
“I may not understand everything, but… if possible, I hope you’ll stay longer.”
“What did you just say?”
“Grandfather, you suit the title of the greatest martial artist under heaven far better than Buddha, immortal sage, or martial god, or whatever else.”
At those words, Dokgo Cheon’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before a cold smile crossed his face.
“Do I look like I’m about to ascend to immortality? You have a more childish imagination than I thought.”
“But wasn’t that the impression you were giving just now?”
“Hehehehe.”
Dokgo Myeong, feeling awkward, changed the subject with a question.
“What kind of person is Mujeon?”
Dokgo Cheon closed his mouth for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before slowly parting his lips.
“In the past, I didn’t know him well enough to describe what kind of person he was, and now that we’ve met after so long, he’s changed so much that I can’t say.”
“Weren’t you two old rivals?”
Dokgo Cheon’s brow furrowed slightly.
“The three of us were never enemies in the truest sense, but we were adversaries. Whenever we met, we were too busy fighting as if to kill each other. We never cared about each other’s circumstances. That remains true even now.”
“Three? You don’t mean you were also at odds with Beobjon?”
Dokgo Cheon shot back as if it were no laughing matter.
“If anything, it was worse. That madman Muryeong was quite the lunatic.”
“A madman? Yet he was regarded as one of the great masters of the Central Plains martial world…”
“That monk had nothing but the salvation of all living beings and the greater good. He had no personal feelings or desires as a human. Or rather, that was the only obsession and desire the monk Muryeong possessed. How is that normal for a person?”
Depending on how one heard it, the assessment was either sublime or suffocating.
“Moreover, simply because their ideals aligned, he ignored the opposition of his sect and superiors, and even transmitted all his martial arts to his youngest disciple. The Shaolin Temple must have had quite the headache.”
“You’re speaking of Gwon Hwang Muram Daesa. I did find it strange that they were from the same sect, but I didn’t know the circumstances…”
Dokgo Cheon reminisced for a moment about the past.
He had seen chaos as an opportunity, while Muryeong viewed it as the fruit of evil.
Conflict was inevitable.
And there was one more among them…
“But compared to Mujeon, he was at least comprehensible. Back then, Mujeon didn’t even seem like a person.”
“Pardon?”
“Not in the sense that he was wicked. It was just… as if he were a created being.”
“…?”
“Muryeong and I made our names known throughout the world before reaching our twenties. But that one appeared as if suddenly dropped from the heavens. Yet he surpassed all three of us.”
Surpassed all three?
He outpaced both Beobjon and Geom-jon?
“In martial arts, inner power, and physique alike. And he grew stronger at a monstrous pace. Do you think such a thing could be achieved through mere fortune or individual talent?”
“It’s impossible.”
“Exactly. Moreover, he showed keen interest in all manner of sorcery and heterodox techniques, and achieved mastery in them as well. That’s why he earned the title of the All-Capable One.”
“What was Mujeon trying to accomplish by going that far?”
“That one spoke thus: he would uncover the principles that penetrate all martial arts under heaven and eliminate the martial world itself. He wandered the realm, indiscriminately tearing through everything—orthodox and heterodox sects alike, showing no distinction.”
“…!”
Dokgo Cheon continued.
“One sought dominion, another dreamed of stability, and yet another desired destruction. Our purposes were entirely different. I forged ahead, Muryeong stood in opposition, and Mujeon discriminated against none. Collision was inevitable.”
“But why have you been unable to settle this all this time? No matter how I think about it, given your temperament, grandfather….”
Dokgo Myeong trailed off.
‘There’s a reason “Iron Blood” is part of your epithet.’
Look at that nature of yours. You’d sooner die fighting than leave matters unresolved like this.
Dokgo Cheon spoke matter-of-factly.
“Because there were three of us.”
“Are you saying if there had been two or four, a conclusion would have been reached somehow?”
“It would have been settled long ago. If there had been only two. But with three, no matter who you fight, you cannot help but worry about the one left standing.”
A subtle irritation flickered across Dokgo Cheon’s face.
“From a certain point onward, none of us possessed a difference in strength sufficient to determine victory without sustaining wounds. What would happen if two of the three fought, taking that into account?”
“Even in victory, one would fall behind. The one who didn’t fight would monopolize the realm.”
“And if mutual defeat occurred, it would be the worst outcome of all.”
This was a hidden history unknown to the world.
Truly, a tale that only the Three Masters could tell.
“Once, Beobjon and Mujeon joined hands against me. And I too once joined hands with Beobjon against Mujeon. This was in our youth.”
“…What? You faced a combined assault? What happened?”
“It ended in failure, which is why I sit before you now, is it not?”
“…!”
“The two who joined forces could not commit their full strength, for they were preoccupied with what would come after defeating the remaining one. If one of them suffered even slightly more loss….”
“The same principle. The fisherman’s gain.”
“Precisely. And beyond that, the Esoteric Sects still existed in those days. As time passed… though none of us desired it, gradually equilibrium was achieved.”
Three individuals who, in any other generation, would have been lauded as the greatest masters of all time.
Yet born in the same era, the same generation—what divine jest was this?
“When the martial world began calling us the Three Masters, we all made an unspoken covenant. The reason all three of us withdrew from the front lines was precisely this. To move was to invite complications, and we could not predict what vulnerabilities might be exposed or how.”
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes gleamed.
“You were waiting for the moment when one could overcome two, or when the world’s circumstances could be manipulated to create a battlefield.”
“What I prepared was this sword technique and the main clan.”
“Then the other two….”
“Disappeared.”
Dokgo Cheon’s eyes deepened.
Perhaps too much time had passed.
Beobjon, who had been rigid as steel and unyielding in compromise, grew disillusioned with all things one day and departed the martial world in great anger.
And Mujeon, the most singleminded of us, wandered the realm before vanishing abruptly one day without warning.
“So it ended like that?”
“Quite the opposite. They simply spread into places difficult to see. And then… strange, incomprehensible things began to interfere.”
My withdrawal from the forefront and reluctance to involve myself in the clan’s major affairs or worldly matters stemmed not only from personal reasons, but from something far graver.
Dark currents flow through the martial realm.
The moment one carelessly meddles in worldly affairs, one risks sinking into a colossal trap from which escape may prove impossible.
Dokgo Myeong opened his mouth.
“But that… no, never mind.”
“Speak freely.”
“It’s nothing of importance.”
“….”
Under Dokgo Cheon’s silent, penetrating gaze, Dokgo Myeong reluctantly continued, choosing his words with deliberate care.
“…Earlier, you said Mujeon seemed like a being that was created.”
“Indeed.”
“Yet it appeared you deliberately avoided discussing who orchestrated this. Did he perhaps have a master?”
“A master, a master….”
Dokgo Cheon murmured before shaking his head with a hardened expression.
“His nature differed from that of a disciple under a master.”
“Then he achieved enlightenment alone?”
“How could that be possible?”
Dokgo Cheon continued with composure.
“I believed it to be the Imperial Palace. When I inquired this time, he neither denied nor affirmed it.”
Dokgo Myeong’s eyes widened considerably.
“The Imperial Palace? You mean the one I know of?”
“What other place possesses the capability to secretly forge a perfected martial artist, or the gravitas to seriously discuss the annihilation of the martial realm?”
“…!”
“I once read obscure rumors in ancient texts concerning this matter. It spoke of a certain lineage that persisted even as the empire’s name and rulers changed across generations.”
“What could that possibly….”
This was a tale beyond Dokgo Myeong’s imagination.
He asked with a bewildered expression.
“Then did you encounter him at the Imperial Palace this time?”
“Impossible to say. He neither affirmed nor denied it.”
Could it be that even the Three Masters must be considered in this turbulent age?
Or perhaps they are already involved?
It was then that Dokgo Cheon suddenly broached another subject.
“Mujeon has changed.”
“Pardon?”
“One who seemed inhuman had become human. Time, it appears, does indeed flow.”
“…?”
“He cast off his shackles and lived in the depths beyond the Western Frontier. Perhaps he alone among us three could be called the one who truly transformed.”
It was then.
Dokgo Cheon added a remark as if launching a sudden assault.
“And there is one more thing I must clarify.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not he. She.”
“…Pardon?”
“Mujeon is a woman.”
Shock flickered across Dokgo Myeong’s eyes.
Dokgo Cheon observed his reaction intently, as if studying every nuance of Dokgo Myeong’s response.
Soon, Dokgo Myeong released a long, weary sigh.
“Ah….”
So that was it.
My Sect Leader was Mujeon.

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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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