Martial God of the Sun and Moon - Chapter 59

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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 59
I gazed upon the withered corpse before me.
Tattered rags hung loosely across the skeletal frame, with gossamer threads of spider webs draped haphazardly over them.
‘This was no mere facade of a tomb…’
It was a genuine burial chamber.
I muttered bitterly.
“They say you were a Divine Master whose name transcended the realm and was etched into history itself, yet how could you not even close your eyes in peace?”
A strange feeling washed over me.
Why.
Why would someone of Gi-wang’s stature create such a desolate place?
Was it merely a tomb meant for his own descent?
Thud!
I carelessly set Gi Sohwa down and sat before Yeo Cheon-wi.
“Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
The formation, the false divine illness, even the stone walls of the deepest chamber.
Through it all, he sat here and died without even receiving proper rites or a funeral.
If this too was fate, I wanted to acknowledge it as one human being to another.
…After deliberating for quite some time.
I decided to admit it plainly.
“Ah, I give up.”
I sighed deeply and scratched my head.
‘Perhaps there was nothing to begin with, or if there was, those Bloodfiend bastards would have taken it long ago.’
Once those cunning devils discovered this place and decided to exploit it, everything was already lost.
I clicked my tongue in frustration.
“I apologize. It seems you went to such lengths because there was something you desperately wanted to convey… but it appears the connection was severed by those rat-like scoundrels.”
A Divine Master, Gi-wang, a peerless military strategist.
A craftsman of weapons who grieved at taking life, and a paragon among paragons who would personally sell his weapons to provide relief when famine struck.
Rustle.
I slowly rose to my feet.
I carefully straightened my torn and tattered clothes, then neatly arranged my disheveled hair.
And then I lowered myself respectfully.
Once, twice, and half again.
Two and a half bows.
My entire body ached with each touch to the ground, but I wanted to show proper respect to the deceased.
“Though unintended, I have caused disturbance in your sacred chamber. I apologize.”
I finished my bows and smiled coldly.
“And those wretches who ruthlessly mocked your will… I intend to sweep them from this Gangho myself someday, so I hope you can now rest in eternal peace without regret.”
I believed I had fulfilled all the proper rites.
I suppressed my lingering sorrow and turned, gripping Gi Sohwa’s collar.
“The exit is that way?”
Behind the tomb chamber, a narrow passage came into view.
I dragged my weary feet forward, moving deeper into the passage.
The moment I stepped into the corridor.
Screech! Creak!
A strange sound echoed through the air.
Something grinding against the walls, as if gears were meshing together.
My face drained of all color.
“Could it be…?”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A mechanism?
“Damn it all!”
Curses spilled from my lips involuntarily.
“This lunatic Gi-wang! Did he really set traps here too?!”
I stamped the ground desperately.
“What? Divine technique? Gi-wang? Damn it! And here I was giving him the courtesy of respect!”
I screamed and bolted forward.
But my battered body, weighed down by the burden of another person, could barely muster any speed.
“Argh!”
Crash!
A stone wall descended and struck what I thought was the exit passage.
Stone fragments scattered through the air, and a cloud of brown dust billowed up.
I ground my teeth together.
“Really to the very end… huh?”
My eyes widened in shock.
The stone wall blocking the passage.
It wasn’t just an ordinary stone wall.
It was a legacy tablet.
“…!”
My breath caught as I saw characters densely carved into the stone wall.
“Could this possibly be…”
I stammered over my words.
A legacy tablet I’d only heard about in stories… could this be it?!
* * *
If one were to rank the things that martial artists living in Gangho would want to read or hear about at least once, what would they be?
Whatever else there might be, the phrase “legacy tablet” would surely rank at the very top of that list.
“That’s right! This is exactly what should appear! Master Gi-wang truly is remarkable! I always believed in you!”
All the curses I had just unleashed vanished from my mind.
I hurriedly began reading the inscription.
But my excitement quickly faded.
…I awakened to the path of craftsmanship in my youth and took up the hammer, establishing my own school by thirty. I created countless divine weapons, yet I never witnessed a life that would perish by them. Intoxicated by my craft, I only honed the sharpness of death itself, and when I look back upon my life, all that remains beside me is the bloody karma of slaughter.
Dokgo Myeong turned to look back.
The man known as the Divine Craftsman, called the King of Weapons.
Yet even he could not rest easy, sitting there alone in solitude.
Yeon-ja, observe this. Such is the fate of one who advances without witnessing the lives of others. All is delusion, a mist that obscures the eyes. It mirrors the path you have walked to reach this place.
In that instant, Dokgo Myeong’s body trembled.
‘The path I walked to reach here? Could it be… a reflection of my own life?’
The winding labyrinths.
They were Gi-wang’s existence.
The mist that concealed them was the delusion that obscures one’s future.
Like a man lost in confusion, coveting divine weapons and techniques, wandering astray.
What did you feel at the end of the path?
Gi-wang was asking.
What had you gained in that final moment?
‘Counterfeit divine weapons and techniques.’
They were hollow within, though brilliant on the surface—divine weapons and techniques that amounted to nothing.
What did you feel before the wall of the deepest stone chamber?
Dokgo Myeong was the exception, but the countless followers felt despair.
And they wandered seeking life.
If you sought this place to survive, what was your state of mind then?
Merely the desire to live.
There could be no yearning for martial prowess, no desire to kill another, no greed for divine weapons and techniques.
When you upheld righteousness before a meaningless corpse, what were your thoughts?
You sought to preserve righteousness.
The righteousness of being human.
‘Could those two and a half bows have been the final condition?’
Perhaps that condition itself was a mechanism more powerful than any formation or trap?
For those of the Bloodfiend Cult, and those whose eyes have turned to divine weapons and techniques, would never pursue righteousness.
You escaped delusion, dreamed of life, and upheld the way of humanity. That is truly how one should live.
Simply acting as human—that was the answer Gi-wang truly sought.
Yeon-ja. A blade is harder to sheathe than to draw, and more precious than a sharp edge is the scabbard that conceals it. Life is a hundred, a thousand times more precious than death. In my twilight years, I have finally created a work not for death, but for life. I leave this final work to you, Yeon-ja, containing the enlightenment of this foolish old man.
Thus the inscription on the stone wall reached its conclusion.
Destroy the wall.
Dokgo Myeong clenched his unbroken fist.
Crash!
It was a gentle strike, yet the wall crumbled without resistance.
And beyond it was revealed a massive iron chest.
Gulp.
Dokgo Myeong swallowed dryly and slowly opened the chest.
What lay within was not some divine weapon or technique with a gleaming edge.
It was a single robe, neatly folded.
Incomparable beneath heaven, the Heavenly Garment of Life-Seeking, the Dragon Scale Robe.
Eleven characters inscribed on the inside of the iron chest.
Unmatched in all the world, the Heavenly Garment that seeks life. It is called the Dragon Scale Robe.
It was the moment when Yeo Cheon-wi’s true legacy had truly fallen into Dokgo Myeong’s hands.
* * *
Seo Ryun let out a groan as he gazed ahead.
An elderly man radiating a piercing and murderous aura stood there.
It was Hyeon Un-jin, the Single Stroke Sword Master of the Huangshan Sect.
“It has been long since I last beheld the esteemed Hyeon Un-jin of Hwangsan.”
“I have no desire to exchange pleasantries with the beasts who have harmed my disciples.”
Killing intent rippled across Hyeon Un-jin’s entire body.
“Look, look over there!”
“Why is the Huangshan Sect’s Hyeon Un-jin confronting the Dokgo Family’s…”
Amid the chaos, all eyes turned toward the followers.
Hyeon Un-jin, with an indifferent expression, gazed at the blocked entrance to Bidong.
“So, the one who harmed my disciple is buried down there?”
Seo Ryun’s expression hardened.
“What a pity. I had intended to sever that wretch’s limbs with my own hands.”
“Your words are excessive!”
Hyeon Un-jin let out a cold laugh.
“I will not waste words. Since that wretch appears to still be down there, you shall pay the price in his stead.”
“Pay what price? What crime have we committed?”
“You dared harm my disciple and now speak so shamelessly!”
“I understand your anger at your disciple’s injury, but do you truly know how this came to pass?”
“What does that matter! You dared lay hands upon my disciple without fear!”
Seo Ryun’s expression grew even more rigid.
Yet he strove to maintain composure and continued speaking calmly.
“Your disciple first mocked and ridiculed the Main Sect and its direct bloodline. Moreover, he openly unleashed killing intent. There are many witnesses.”
“You beat a man to such a state for merely that? The greatest family under heaven, yet no different from the dark path sects.”
“Mind your words! The dark path! Then should we have simply stood idle?”
“How dare you raise your voice before me!”
Boom!
Hyeon Un-jin spoke sharply and unleashed a wave of energy.
Under the crushing pressure, Seo Ryun’s complexion grew even more pallid.
“I have no interest in debating right and wrong. If you dared harm my disciple in Anhui, you should have been prepared for the consequences.”
Shing!
Hyeon Un-jin drew his blade.
The light of dawn breaking across the sky split along the edge of his sword.
“What are you—!”
“Since that wretch’s fate remains uncertain, I shall take your limbs and those of that servant beside you as compensation.”
“Gasp! Gi Sohwa! Dodge!”
“Wh-what!”
Seo Ryun urgently shoved Geum Seok-du’s shoulder.
Crash!
In that instant, the massive tree behind where Geum Seok-du and Seo Ryun stood exploded into splinters.
“This lunatic….”
Seo Ryun bit his lip.
Swinging his blade without warning—it was hardly the conduct of a cultivator.
“Can you handle this matter!”
Hyeon Un-jin did not answer.
Whoosh!
A single extended strike stretched out before Seo Ryun’s very nose without hesitation.
“Ugh!”
Clang!
Seo Ryun barely blocked the assault with his half-shattered blade.
Though it was called a defense, the sword that had stopped that blow flew backward and embedded itself in the ground.
Twang! Crash!
Hyeon Un-jin kicked the stumbling Seo Ryun away.
“Stay still. If you’re careless, your head might fly off.”
“Ugh!”
Crunch!
Hyeon Un-jin stomped on Seo Ryun’s chest as he tried to rise again.
“S-Sir Seo!”
Geum Seok-du cried out urgently.
Hyeon Un-jin spoke to his disciples without even turning around.
“Mokgang, Mokyul. You two handle that servant.”
“M-Master! Isn’t this a bit excessive….”
“Does the master’s word not sound like a word!”
That was when it happened.
Hyeon Un-jin sensed an unfamiliar presence burrowing into his aura.
“Gasp! M-Master, that person is…!”
“Crack!”
Thud! Snap!
Brief sounds of impact rang out, and pained groans escaped his disciples’ lips.
Hyeon Un-jin’s head snapped around.
“What are you all doing!”
Flutter!
A black robe, as if woven from the night sky itself, fluttered in the wind.
A young man stood with the dawn at his back.
It was Dokgo Myeong.

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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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