Black and White Martial Emperor

Namgung Daesan’s face flushed red, like an overripe persimmon.

“How dare you call her a wretched girl? Mind your words!”

“You would do well to mind yours.”

Yeon Wi neither raised his voice nor let his aura surge.

He remained calm, composed, and unshaken—his usual blunt expression unchanged.

“Have you even confirmed the cause and effect of this incident?”

“Cause and effect? Is this the time to quibble over such things?! What on earth have you heard? No matter the quarrel, to shatter the limbs of a girl not yet grown? How have you raised your sons?!”

The insult went too far—but Daesan’s rage was not incomprehensible.

Even if she wasn’t his daughter, his beloved niece had been left half-crippled. Anyone would be furious.

Yeon Wi understood that in his heart.

But that did not mean he could condone either Namgung Sanghwa’s conduct or Daesan’s words.

“I find myself regretting that my son showed such restraint and left it at that.”

“What!”

“Had it been me, I would never have forgiven one who mocked my clan and went so far as to try and kill my sons.”

Yeon Wi’s voice grew a degree colder.

“My son’s mercy is what spared your niece’s life. You would do well to be grateful.”

“You... insolent!”

Namgung Daesan trembled with fury.

But he could not explode further.

The words he had dismissed before were now repeated by the Yeon Clan Lord himself. That repetition cooled his head, if only slightly.

Mocked the clan and tried to kill his sons? What does that mean?

As if reading his thoughts, Yeon Wi continued:

“Your niece Sanghwa, drunk, declared that Namgung had never once considered our clan to be among the Seven Great Clans.”

Daesan ground his teeth.

“And that, you take as mocking your clan? Over nothing more than that—!”

“I do not believe the foolish words of a child lacking in discipline represent the will of the Namgung Clan. Especially from one who was drunk—it is nothing more than a drunkard’s rambling.”

Even knowing it was true, Daesan felt his anger flare higher.

The Yeon Clan Lord was calling his treasured niece undisciplined, a drunkard.

How could he not be enraged?

“But if she bared killing intent and ordered my sons to kneel, then it is a different matter.”

“What... what did you say?”

“To not only threaten their lives but heap insult upon them as well—tell me, how does your Clan Lord raise his children?”

Daesan’s eyes wavered.

The Yeon Clan of Green Mountain might be a younger house, but it was one pillar of the Seven Great Clans.

That they had achieved such standing with barely fifty years of history meant their power was in no way inferior to the other great houses.

No—if anything, their potential was greater. No clan without true strength would be mentioned alongside the greatest names of the martial world.

For Sanghwa to not only try to kill but to insult sons of such a clan—

“Impossible!”

Daesan’s face reddened again.

“Do you have proof? If you intend to smear the Namgung Clan based only on your sons’ words—”

“This is a matter between children of the Seven Great Clans. Do you think I would have investigated carelessly?”

“Tch! Then summon the parties! Let me hear the words from your son’s own mouth—”

“Listen well, Outer Compound Master.”

Yeon Wi’s eyes deepened.

“Do you think I am jesting with you right now?”

“......”

“My sons were insulted. They were threatened with death. If not for my restraint, I would sooner sever your niece’s head myself.”

“What I mean is—”

“When even your Clan Lord’s personal apology would not suffice to calm me, what right does some mere outer compound master have to come here and wreak havoc?”

He did not speak further.

“Do you have a death wish?”

Flash.

A subtle but unmistakable killing intent emanated from Yeon Wi’s eyes.

Feeling it, Daesan had the illusion he had stepped into an ice cave. The chill was so fierce his internal energy quivered on its own.

“If this is the will of Namgung, then so be it. I will see for myself how sharp the Namgung sword is. I will cut off your head and deliver it personally to your clan.”

The chilling words struck his ears like hammer blows, and Daesan cried out before he could stop himself.

“W-wait a moment!”

“Have something else to say?”

Daesan swallowed.

The killing intent was fine and needle-sharp, yet Yeon Wi’s composure remained unbroken.

That alone told Daesan everything: Yeon Wi’s martial attainment was far beyond anything he could contend with.

“Wait. Perhaps... perhaps I have misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood? Are you in any position to utter such drivel before me?”

Daesan bit his lip.

He knew it was humiliating and shameful.

But he had no choice. If Yeon Wi spoke truth, then this was no small matter—it could erupt into something disastrous.

Damn it!

He regretted it. His brothers all held high offices within the Namgung Clan, while he remained only the master of the outer compound.

Though treated as senior within the clan, his elder brother the Clan Lord had never entrusted him with greater authority.

All because of his hot temper. For fear he might disgrace them in outside affairs, they had kept him in this post all these years.

He had resented it more than once. But now, perhaps, his brother’s judgment had been correct.

“For now...”

His lips were dry.

Grinding his teeth, Namgung Daesan forced the words out.

“I apologize for rushing in without weighing the circumstances.”

“......”

“Hearing what happened to my niece, I lost myself in anger. I was blinded. Clan Lord, I offer you my apologies.”

Yeon Wi regarded him in silence.

His gaze was as transparent as glass. And under that gaze, Daesan found his mouth opening of its own accord.

“I-I will look further into the matter. So for today...”

“Do not worry. I will not forget.”

“Clan Lord!”

“I will make certain the whole orthodox martial world hears of this. Unless your clan makes the proper apology.”

Daesan’s face went pale.

That was it. That was the crux.

If Yeon Wi’s words were true, then Namgung’s reputation would be stained. And the responsibility would fall not only on Sanghwa—but on himself.

It was a disaster. He had stormed in blind with rage, and now his temper threatened to tarnish the clan’s honor.

“C-Clan Lord...”

“I’ve no wish to look at you further. Begone.”

“......”

“I will be watching closely to see how your clan responds.”

Yeon Wi turned his back.

Biting his lip, Daesan strode out through the south gate he had shattered himself. The entrance he had smashed open now seemed like the maw of hell.

And so Namgung Daesan departed the Yeon compound.

Yeon Wi shook his head as he looked at the ruined gate.

“A shame.”

A shame, but perhaps for the best.

“Where is the chief steward?”

“You called for me, Clan Lord!”

From afar, a thin man ran up. He had some training in martial arts, but little true cultivation.

He looked in his mid-thirties—the Yeon Clan’s chief steward, Tae Gyeong.

“Commission Elder Sang of the carpenter’s guild for the gate. Tell him to use better timber than before.”

“Y-yes, at once!”

But Tae Gyeong’s face showed unease.

“Clan Lord, if I may... was that not too forceful?”

He must have witnessed everything from a distance.

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“See to this first. By tomorrow, we must confirm the truth.”

“Yes, understood.”

Leaving the cleanup to Tae Gyeong, Yeon Wi walked alone toward the inner compound.

Just then, a shadow emerged.

Yeon Hojeong.

“Father.”

Yeon Wi was unsurprised. He had already sensed his eldest.

“It is late. Go to bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Yeon Wi halted and looked at him.

The moon was unusually bright. Bathed in moonlight, his eldest’s eyes looked deep and calm.

He had been about to send him back to bed, but instead found himself asking a question.

“What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“How do you think the Namgung Clan will respond?”

He did not know why he asked.

But Hojeong’s reply left him inwardly startled.

“What matters is not the Namgung Clan, but our own.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even if Namgung does not apologize, you will let the matter rest.”

“And why do you think that?”

“No need to burn down the house just to shake off a bit of dust.”

Such words, from him?

Awkward analogy or not, Yeon Wi thought his son’s insight was not bad. In fact, compared to how he had been, it was astonishing.

Perhaps his belief that he understood his son well had been arrogance.

Watching him closely, Yeon Wi turned again.

“You think this is such a trivial matter that it can be passed over?”

“Sir?”

“You are my son.”

Hojeong blinked.

Before he could say more, Yeon Wi was already walking off into the distance, his steps unchanged from usual.

Staring after his father’s back, Hojeong scratched his head.

“As if I didn’t know that.”

****

The next day.

“Ugh...”

The cool autumn wind did nothing to ease the heat in his body.

Sweat dripped steadily, forming small puddles, yet Hojeong’s stance did not falter.

Creak.

The door opened, and Jipyeong entered.

“Brother, I—huh?!”

His eyes went wide.

“Brother, what are you doing?”

“Can’t you see? Horse Stance training.”

“H-horse ★ ★ stance?”

No wonder he was startled.

Horse Stance, training the legs, was the root of all martial arts. But for his brother—who had already brought the Flying Swallow Heart Method to completion—such basic training seemed unnecessary. There were countless other ways to temper the body.

Hojeong frowned.

“It’s Father’s punishment.”

“P-punishment? For horse stance? Wait—since when have you been doing this?”

“Since the hour of the hare.”

“What! That’s nearly four hours ago?!”

“Not much left.”

His body was not yet fully matured. To hold Horse Stance for half a day without using internal energy would break even a hardened warrior.

Hojeong grumbled inwardly.

This won’t change anything.

At dawn, Chief Steward Tae Gyeong had brought his father’s message.

‘Given the circumstances, you may not have done wrong. But you do bear one guilt: the guilt of a martial man. A cruel hand invites blood, and that is not the way of the Orthodox. Recover your beginner’s heart with two hours of Horse Stance training.’

If character could be changed with mere Horse Stance, he would never have survived the Demonic Path.

At first, he thought it absurd. But since it was called training, he applied himself. He even reviewed the Flying Swallow Heart Method and his plans ahead.

Jipyeong whispered:

“Brother, that’s enough. It’s already been over two hours.”

“It’s fine.”

He did not think it a crime, but if this was the clan’s way, what could he do? He would likely have much to grumble about, but he could at least try to grow used to it.

At last, after a little over two hours, Hojeong released the stance.

“Ugh, my legs are shaking.”

“You must be exhausted! Wait here, I’ll bring food.”

But then—

Thump. Thump.

Someone knocked at the gate.

“First Young Master, are you here?”

“Ugh... who is it?”

“The Clan Lord summons you.”

Hojeong groaned.

“Checking my homework already? Good grief.”