Black and White Martial Emperor

The rivers and lakes had never known a day without wind, but rarely had there been an incident this enormous.

Enemy of the Martial World.

Four words that chilled the spine across orthodox and unorthodox alike, even out to the Outer-Frontier Martial World.

In a world where countless murderers and madmen rampaged, those branded Enemy of the Martial World in the name of the Temporary Alliance of the Martial World were almost unheard of. In the past hundred years, those designated as such had not exceeded ten.

The brand of Enemy of the Martial World is not stamped lightly.

And yet, astonishingly, the one branded Enemy of the Martial World in this generation was not “one person,” but a whole organization.

The Ming Clan of the Nine Provinces.

Three hundred years ago, they had helped the Four Directions Martial Emperor bring the Blood Sect Uprising to an end and then set down roots in the Central Plains. For nearly two hundred years they had been an ironclad house whose renown as the foremost under heaven echoed everywhere.

Such a house was now branded Enemy of the Martial World. It was the first time in martial history that the highest orthodox house became an Enemy of the Martial World.

Of course, being branded did not mean that every warrior of the Ming Clan would be killed.

The brand shuts down every movement of that power. First, arrests are made and the facts examined; if judgment deems it fitting, from that point they become a confirmed Enemy of the Martial World.

It is not an order invoked easily to begin with. Because it carries out-of-standard properties, it is never stamped on a whim.

However, to prevent the suspect’s flight, the fact is announced across the martial world.

It is a somewhat overbearing order. But considering even a common butcher of men seldom becomes Enemy of the Martial World, it also meant the Ming Clan’s wrongdoing was that grave.

The martial world held its breath.

It was a matter great enough to convene a Temporary Alliance. The fall of a great orthodox house that had borne the “foremost under heaven” name for ages — an event all eyes in the martial world watched.

Xuchang, Henan — the main house of the Ming Clan of the Nine Provinces.

An uncountable number of martial men gathered around it. And their faces were no ordinary lot.

Monks in Daoist robes, Daoist priests, and warriors dressed in fine uniforms filled the place. Their number alone came near five hundred.

With five hundred encircling the Ming Clan’s grounds, only those involved could know how many had already gone inside.

Mo Yonggun entered the Ming compound wearing a calm expression.

The warriors guarding the inner court bowed their heads.

“We greet the Clan Lord!”

“Mm. You’re doing well.”

Acknowledging them with an easy nod, Mo Yonggun passed through the outer court and went into the inner court.

He stopped at a building within. A subtle medicinal scent filled the large, imposing hall.

Sss... sss....

There, a man past middle age lay taking shallow breaths.

His whole body was wrapped round and round in bandages. Even his neck and face bore deep cuts, and the wounds still glowed ruddy.

It was Ming Cheon.

Mo Yonggun clicked his tongue.

“You were taken apart hideously.”

He had heard the gist.

They said Yeon Hojeong and the Azure Hawk Squad, somehow anticipating Ming Cheon on his way to the Yeon house in Jiangsu, had blocked his path. A clash occurred, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» and whether through bad luck or not, Ming Cheon ended up like this.

“Hah! A new divine art, is it? To be struck while forging a new art — unlucky, indeed. Isn’t that so?”

Mo Yonggun turned his head.

A middle-aged man sat in a square-backed chair there — Ming Usan, who had scarcely dared to breathe since Mo Yonggun entered.

Mo Yonggun smiled and spoke.

“You people went far over the line. To dig out your forefathers’ martial art, you slaughtered all those laborers. The count came to, what, eight hundred?”

“......”

“How could you commit such a lawless act? What makes that one secret so important that you’d spill such blood?”

Ming Usan bit his lip.

Yes. The most powerful blow Mo Yonggun had detonated at the Assembly was precisely the massacre of innocent workers by the Ming Clan.

In truth, even the orthodox side looks away from a blemish or a bit of graft now and then — all the more for the Nine Sects and One Union or the Seven Great Families.

But touching civilians was different.

It had been centuries since the covenant of mutual non-interference between officials and the martial world, yet at times the authorities still stepped into martial affairs.

The most representative case was when common folk were harmed.

A martial man killed innocents? That could not be left alone.

Nominally, martial men are one thing, but the people who till fields are subjects of the Empire and property of the Emperor. Even for show, the authorities must intrude.

And the martial world hates the authorities intruding here.

In other words, it was inevitably a sensitive matter. If it had been hushed up, perhaps — but once openly discussed, becoming Enemy of the Martial World was no surprise.

“Tsk, tsk. Had it been me, I would have kept them under my shade — with stable work to feed them for life.”

“......”

“Easy to watch, and handy for small errands. But you had no thought to keep them — you killed them all.”

“......”

“And on top of that, this ‘forefathers’ martial art’ you practiced — demonic art, is it?”

Ming Usan’s eyes flickered for an instant.

“This... is not a demonic art.”

“Ha! Only arts reeking of evil miasma count as demonic?”

“......”

“An art that eats a person’s mind. The proof lies with your Clan Lord here, and those few elders who fled.”

“......”

“There are still a few we haven’t caught. It will take some time.”

Mo Yonggun sat casually on the edge of the sickbed.

“Direct line or collateral — one family, no? If the fugitives are caught, they’ll be put to the sword without question. But if they surrender themselves, at least they won’t die.”

Ming Usan’s gaze deepened.

“Minimum ten years in the dungeon. And their cores will be abolished.”

“Better than dying. Better than trembling in fear for life.”

“......”

“When you buried those laborers, did you not foresee an end like this?”

Ming Usan silently bit his lip.

Mo Yonggun’s eyes went cold for a beat.

“I have a proposal.”

“...?”

“You know the Ming Clan’s eldest young master vanished while in closed-door training.”

Ming Usan’s eyes quivered.

Mo Yonggun smiled — a small reaction, but a satisfying one.

“So you know where the boy ran.”

“......”

“Let’s not make this work too tight. Tell me where he fled, and I’ll reduce the sentences for you and your daughter.”

Ming Usan’s complexion changed.

“M-my daughter too will be thrown in a dungeon?”

“Did you think not?”

Mo Yonggun shook his head.

“Even if it was by orders from above, she learned demonic arts. And that girl tried to kill the Yeon family’s young master.”

“T-that—!”

“You know as well as I do how exalted that boy Yeon Hojeong’s standing is.”

Mo Yonggun let out a laugh.

“The greatest young prodigy who dared a fair contest against hypocrites steeped in evil. The young tiger of the East who stood alone against a massive organization to defend his house.”

“......”

“His martial attainments and valor are so outstanding he’s called the reincarnation of the Little Overlord, Sun Ce. Meanwhile his stratagems are so sharp some say Lu Xun reborn.”

Mo Yonggun nodded.

“Extraordinary. Martial skill, cunning, boldness, execution — not one thing about him is ordinary. I myself have not seen a talent so brilliant.”

“......”

“Do you understand me? That boy Yeon Hojeong is, at present, the hot-blooded hero who commands the martial world’s gaze. In some sense, he alone has toppled the Ming Clan.”

Ming Usan’s lip split. Blood seeped where he bit down.

“Which is to say, public opinion will rage to execute, without regard to reason, anyone who tried to kill Yeon Hojeong. Do you think your daughter can escape those arrows of wrath?”

“I—I...”

“Think carefully. As the one who convened the Assembly, I can easily put my hand on the two sentences. With luck, it ends at abolishing the core. It may even be possible without confinement.”

Ming Usan looked at Ming Cheon.

Ming Cheon still had not come to his senses. Even if he did, he would not live long. The physicians had said his lifespan had been cut to the extreme.

Ming Usan lowered his head.

Watching him in silence, Mo Yonggun rose.

“In three days, all Ming Clan warriors will be transferred to the Alliance.”

“...!!”

“They’ll likely choose an acting Alliance Lord. Not that it matters.”

Mo Yonggun patted Ming Usan’s shoulder.

“For the next three days I’ll be at a nearby wine house. If you change your mind, come find me anytime.”

He knew the man’s heart had already wavered.

In that case, it was best to slip away. Information has value precisely when a man walks to you on his own.

Of course, when that time came, the promises made today would mean nothing.

“Rest easy.”

Exiting the hall, Mo Yonggun looked up at the sky.

“Hoo, a bit hot, but clear. A fine sky. Hahaha!”

****

Thwack!

“Urk.”

Letting out a burp-like groan, Ga Deoksang crumpled on the spot.

“Going to greet me properly or not?”

“Ghhk! A-agh, why now, all of a sudden!”

Crunch!

“Arrrgh!”

Ga Deoksang hopped on one foot clutching his shin.

The old man clicked his tongue.

“I thought I’d taught you decently for a beggar, and you go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong and get swept into making a disaster this big?”

“Disaster? How is this a disaster! It’s a fine deed!”

“You little—”

“......”

“Backtalk me once more and I’ll beat you till dust rises on a rainy day. Got it?”

Ga Deoksang hunched his neck.

His master was a man who meant what he said. And he looked in no mood at all.

At times like this, crawling was best. Ga Deoksang grinned like an idiot.

“Hehe, I’m just saying.”

“Ugh, raising a single heir who’s a damned fool and a dolt. Our forebears will be weeping beneath the earth.”

“...But why is this a disaster?”

“You blockhead. Everyone with half a brain knows you were mixed up in this. When you become Union Lord someday, how do you think people will see you?”

“...As someone who keeps to agreements?”

“Bah, you lunatic! Do you know how many snake-bellied types there are among the orthodox? Think those pests will join hands with a pain-in-the-neck like you?”

Ga Deoksang’s face crumpled.

“Then what should I have done? You heard what the Ming Clan did. Leave it alone? Is that the work of the Beggars’ Union?”

His voice rose a touch.

Even past thirty, he was a hot-blooded sort. Even if it meant being beaten to death by his master, right was right.

The old man snorted.

“You never thought to help without anyone knowing?”

“...Huh?”

“You should have hidden yourself thoroughly, you flea-bitten wretch!”

“Ah...”

“Ah? Hah! How are you getting dumber by the day? Who pumped air into your lungs? Was it that Yeon Hojeong?”

“Sir?”

“Did that Yeon Hojeong pump you full of wind!”

Ga Deoksang rolled his eyes a moment, then gave a cool nod.

“Yes, Master.”

“Hrmp! In any case, that kid’s no ordinary one. He’s still nearby?”

“Yes. The man’s not just banged up — he’s broken.”

The old man jerked his chin toward the official road.

“Let’s see the famed tiger’s face. Lead on.”

“Hehe, yessir!”

“Hey, why’s his byname Gale Lion?”

“No idea.”

“And now he’s a tiger? Lion then tiger?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Cat family, is it?”

“He is fickle.”

“You must hate him. You’re like a dog.”

“......”

“Let’s go.”

“Woof woof.”