Black and White Martial Emperor

Namgung Hyun’s body went rigid. So did the rest of the assembly.

Admitting his own fault had already shredded Namgung Hyun’s face. He wouldn’t be able to show himself for a while.

But if Yeon Hojeong refused this apology, the matter would truly explode. From here on, it wasn’t just about face—it was about pride.

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

His bright smile looked almost sunlit.

“As you know, I’m a man who likes the Way of Arms.”

What was that supposed to mean, out of nowhere?

“Confessing the mistake is fine, but the ending tastes a little stale, doesn’t it?”

Ming Holim’s eyes trembled.

“...Surely you don’t mean to cross hands with Brother Namgung as well?”

Under the cold hush, someone swallowed audibly.

There wasn’t a single person here who hadn’t seen Yeon Hojeong’s skill.

Yeon Hojeong’s martial ability was strong. Not merely at the level of the younger generation—strong enough to walk the rivers and lakes right now.

If his spearpoint swung toward Namgung Hyun, Hyun would not come away unscathed. And then what?

War. The Namgung Clan would never let this pass.

Yeon Hojeong let out a thin chuckle.

“My duel with Chu Seong was a contest hung on the pride of warrior and warrior. But since Young Master Namgung has apologized, I don’t wish to make the matter any larger.”

“And then?”

Yeon Hojeong looked around.

“As you all know, this ‘younger-generation gathering’ is called a gathering, but it’s closer to fostering camaraderie, isn’t it?”

“That’s so.”

“Sharing a cup to trade friendship is good, but there’s nothing like trading hands to truly learn each other.”

“...!”

“In any matter, exchange and self-reflection are how we grow. Martial arts are the same. If we truly want camaraderie, let’s do it the way we martial folk should.”

Voom!

Yeon Hojeong tossed his spear as if at random.

Amazingly, the target was Yeon Jipyeong.

Taa-ak!

Yeon Jipyeong caught the spear with neat skill.

A ripple of admiration crossed every face.

Jipyeong was the youngest person here. Even so, he took a fairly fast-flying spear as if it were nothing.

Yeon Hojeong stepped down from the training platform.

“Brother Peng.”

“Huh? Uh? Ah? M-me?”

“My younger brother’s talent is the best in our household. But it’s also true he’s still young. Would you be willing to give my brother a lesson or two?”

“Whaaat?!”

Yeon Hojeong looked at Yeon Jipyeong.

Jipyeong was just as taken aback. But when he met his elder brother’s gaze, he answered with a faint smile.

‘You really are a fox, Brother.’

‘What’s good is good. Since it’s come to this, learn all you can.’

Yeon Jipyeong cupped his fists in salute to Peng Daeho with crisp formality.

“I am Yeon Jipyeong of the Yeon Clan of Green Mountain. Brother Peng, may I ask for your instruction?”

Peng Daeho, who had been staring blankly between Yeon Hojeong and Yeon Jipyeong, burst into hearty laughter.

“Wahahaha! I’m throwing up both hands and feet! Are all Yeon folk like this?”

“I’m the odd one out. If my father hears what I’ve done, he won’t let me off.”

“Khahaha! Good! Truth be told, thanks to Brother Yeon my hands have been itching!”

“Go easy.”

“Go easy, he says! After seeing our Brother Yeon’s one move, if I go easy I’ll be the one in trouble!”

Peng Daeho turned his back and shouted.

“Hey! Manho!”

“What now.”

“Don’t just sit there looking shamefaced—go get a few lessons from Brother Yeon!”

“...You saw Brother Yeon’s skill, didn’t you? I’ll get beaten like a dog.”

“Brat, that’s all part of learning!”

“Ahem!”

Peng Manho sauntered up to Yeon Hojeong.

“Please be gentle?”

“Let it hurt enough to learn.”

“Ah, damn.”

With a curious look, Yeon Hojeong glanced around. People blinked back at him.

He snorted, then took Peng Manho by the arm and led him to a corner of the training ground.

That was all.

Saying nothing further and turning his back like that whipped the younger generation’s blood to a boil.

There was no “rest if you want” or “do as you please,” but Yeon Hojeong’s face already said it all. And you call yourselves people of the martial world?

Their chests bubbled. Not with anger—with a surging desire to win.

Just then, Ming Holim spoke.

“When you think on it, Young Lord Yeon has a point.”

His voice seized the awkward air in an instant.

“Camaraderie is fine—but we are people of the martial world, are we not? We stake our lives on a single blade. When you think on it, chances like this are rare.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed like a drawn edge as he walked away with his back turned.

Whether he noticed or not, Ming Holim went on in a cheerful tone.

“Come, who will take the Ming Clan’s martial arts?”

At that moment, Mo Yong Yeonhwa stepped forward.

“I’ve long been curious about the Ming Clan’s arts. May I broaden my view while I have the chance?”

“For me, it would be an honor.”

The mood heated fast.

With the Yeon brothers and the Peng brothers moving first, then Ming Holim and Mo Yong Yeonhwa stepping up, the other heirs began to take the hint.

After watching Yeon Hojeong and Chu Seong’s exhilarating fight, they were already worked up. Sitting still felt like a betrayal of their own excitement.

“A-hem! Well, it is a bit sudden, but...”

“What can you do? Everyone’s for it. And truth be told, my hands were itching too. We’ve been resting so well for days.”

“Right? Back home I’ve never rested this long.”

“Lady Je Gal! Cross hands with me!”

“Hey now, Lady Je Gal is with me—”

“Mo Yong brat. Want this big sister to teach you a thing or two?”

“I’m not a brat, okay? But are you strong, sister?”

The outer compound, full of silence, slowly found its vigor.

The awkwardness lasted only a moment. Even those shy about stepping forward stopped thinking up reasons once the ring formed and the mood turned.

Soon the entire outer compound became a training ground for the younger generation.

Pairs found their partners and traded hands in earnest; those without partners cultivated inner force with breath-and-circulation practice. When they felt they’d learned enough for the moment, they switched partners and held friendly bouts.

Like a spark tossed offhand that sets a whole mountain ablaze, sudden shouts of spirit and sounds of cutting air rang across the manor.

Ga Deoksang watched Yeon Hojeong with a curious face.

Yeon Hojeong was in the corner of the training ground facing Peng Manho. From his expression and movements, he seemed to be giving genuine instruction.

“A hard fellow to read.”

It seemed not only the younger generation but even the escort guards had forgotten what just happened. No one was dwelling on that lethal contest any longer.

‘Looks like he wants something out of this, but...’

Ga Deoksang scratched his head.

‘Hah! He’s steering the mood of all these people by himself?’

Not ordinary craft. Beyond martial skill and tongue, his ability to pull the air toward what he wanted was outstanding.

And yet it didn’t chafe. He wasn’t forcibly pushing others around—he was guiding them to move of their own will.

“Greetings.”

“Eh?”

Ga Deoksang looked to the side.

Je Gal Jun was there.

“I am Je Gal Jun of the Je ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Gal Clan.”

“Ah! I know, I know.”

“Senior Rear Beggar, your martial skill is astonishing. If it’s not a discourtesy, may I ask for a lesson?”

Ga Deoksang couldn’t help but laugh.

Not for any other reason. Strangely enough, at Je Gal Jun’s suggestion, his own hands began to itch. In the end, he too was being swept along by this mood.

As a beggar should, Ga Deoksang admitted it.

“Good then! Let’s have ourselves some fun!”

“Thank you!”

A place where everyone, with deep enthusiasm, tested each other’s Way of Arms.

Namgung Hyun was not there.

****

Bang!

Back in his quarters, Namgung Hyun punched a hole in the wall.

“Hah... hah!”

His face flushed red, his expression twisted into something fearsome.

“Damn it! Damn it!”

He couldn’t master his rage. Namgung Hyun hammered the wall with his fists.

“Uraaah!”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

He was so angry he couldn’t even load proper inner force. In an instant, both fists were smeared with blood.

‘Such humiliation.’

In more than twenty years of life, he had never suffered disgrace like this.

He’d grown up praised as a pillar-to-be of the Namgung Clan, armed with cool reason and outstanding talent. He had an elder brother, the First Young Master, but he had never once thought his ability fell short of his brother’s.

Why else would his father entrust him with this matter? That was how much faith his father had in him.

And this is what he got? Instead of crushing Yeon Hojeong’s nose, he was shamed before everyone.

This was no ordinary business. He had stepped forward to clean up the mess Namgung Sanghwa made, but what he himself did was shabby to the bone.

For now, everyone had been swept up by the mood and was training together, but once the training ended, someone would surely spread the word outside.

Namgung Hyun’s face flushed even darker. Imagining people whispering behind his back made his head feel ready to burst.

“That bastard...!”

He was so angry that even Namgung Sanghwa rankled in his mind.

“Barefaced fool! I told you not to make trouble, and you turn it into this? Damn dog!”

If not for Namgung Sanghwa, he would have had no reason to suffer this disgrace.

Yeon Hojeong hadn’t brought up the younger sister for nothing. The bastard had used Namgung Sanghwa’s outrages as hostage to all but blackmail him.

‘That lunatic!’

Yeon Hojeong was a madman too. If he brought that up before everyone, the Yeon household would suffer for it as well. The Namgung Clan would never forget this shame.

Only—those eyes were real. He truly meant, Let’s all die together.

So he stepped in, and the result was worst-case.

“I’ll kill him. I will kill him!”

His voice was packed with killing intent.

The man who first forced humiliation on him in this life. Namgung Hyun genuinely wanted to kill Yeon Hojeong.

‘Why would Ahyeon... with a man like that?’

Thinking of the bastard brought Je Gal Ahyeon to mind.

‘...!!’

Namgung Hyun had clearly seen it. The disappointed look in Je Gal Ahyeon’s eyes when she looked at him.

The blaze of his fury heaved again.

Je Gal Ahyeon must not look at him like that. If anything, she should have felt regret for him; she must not look at him with eyes like that.

“I’ll tear you apart...!”

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like any of it. Not this situation, not Yeon Hojeong, not even Je Gal Ahyeon—right now he didn’t like her either.

Panting hard for a long moment, Namgung Hyun shouted:

“Jingok!”

A moment later, a swordsman entered. The most senior of the escorts who had come with Chu Seong.

“You called.”

“...”

“Second Young Master?”

Namgung Hyun lifted his head.

At the sight of his eyes, Jingok flinched.

“The Tang brat—where is he being treated?”

****

“I learned well!”

“I learned as well. The Peng Clan’s saber method is impressive indeed. Worthy of being called the hegemon of Hebei.”

“Khaha! I’ve not even learned half of it properly. I’ll trouble you again later!”

“Do so. But you... are you all right?”

“I’m sturdy if nothing else!”

“That bruise on your shoulder—was that from being struck with an iron cudgel?”

“...W-well then, I’ll go first!”

Peng Daeho scurried off as if fleeing, looking for another partner.

Ming Holim drew in a long breath.

‘Taxing.’

After a long time trading with several external-lineage arts, even his shoulders felt stiff.

‘Have I made the rounds?’

At that moment—

“I’ve been waiting.”

Ming Holim turned his head.

Yeon Hojeong stood there, an iron cudgel hooked over his shoulder, his face gone cold.

“You’re the last.”