Black and White Martial Emperor

THUMP.

Putting down the axe, Yeon Hojeong felt a considerable fatigue.

The shock was too great.

His father’s sword was a middle-way sword. Which meant that when needed, he could deploy a martial art stronger than anyone’s.

That strong-cut far exceeded the power of an axe swung as an eighty-cattie heavy weapon. Robust inner power, a body tempered to thoroughness, and an application that unfolded insight—these had reached their peak.

Frustrating.

It wasn’t that Yeon Hojeong couldn’t do it. No—he could even aim beyond that.

But his tempering was still insufficient. To dig into high-order martial Way, anguish and realization are essential—but in the end, it is the body that contains them.

I’m still far off.

He had muscle, stamina, and flexibility in plenty. What his body wasn’t yet used to was holding a high-purity qi.

It felt like he’d just seen, clearly, a flaw he had only vaguely thought about. It was the most precious gift this friendly match had given him.

Yeon Hojeong judged his martial art still had a long way to go. He had seen the weaknesses and faced the parts that needed fixing.

But in Yeon Wi’s eyes, Yeon Hojeong’s martial art had already stepped into a master’s realm.

“Truly...”

“Sir?”

“You’ve truly grown strong.”

Yeon Hojeong gave a wry smile.

“I told you—I’m far off.”

“No, if anything you’re excessive. Far too excessive. In today’s martial world, who of your generation has amassed a martial art like yours? Even the Twin Dragons and Three Peaks—I doubt they could stand comparison. Even if the Nine Sects and One Union have secretly nurtured later-generation standouts, would any be your equal?”

It was rare, extravagant praise.

Yeon Wi was not someone who offered such praise to just anyone.

But Yeon Hojeong was an exception. His growth rate had completely departed from the standard. Moreover, he believed his son was not someone who would be satisfied by, or grow arrogant from, praise of this degree.

“You’ve already stepped outside the frame of martial skill and hewn a martial Way of your own. It’s no exaggeration to say you’ve formed a school.”

“There isn’t just one or two things I need to shore up.”

“The body, yes. But your realization is already crossing the eighth ridgeline of Mount Tai.”

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“Brother and younger brother alike—your bodies aren’t keeping up with your realizations.”

It was different.

Yeon Jipyeong didn’t have decades of experience like Yeon Hojeong. Even so, his realization was excessive; his body couldn’t keep pace.

Yeon Hojeong, on the other hand, had years of learning martial arts in an asura field where blood and flesh flew. Refining a martial art on the basis of realization gained in real battle—naturally, the development level of the body would lag behind.

“But...”

A look of curiosity came over Yeon Wi’s face.

“You’ve refined new martial arts. They don’t seem based on our household canon.”

“Ah.”

“Two footworks—and one weapon art from outside the clan.”

“Strictly speaking, three footworks, three weapon arts.”

Yeon Wi tapped the training ground with the tip of his toe—at the spot his son’s fist had punched a hole.

“This fist-art?”

With a satisfied look, Yeon Hojeong raised his fist.

“I converted a weapon art to a fist form. Today was my first time unfolding it; fortunately it retained my power.”

For a moment, Yeon Wi was at a loss for words.

Does he even realize what he’s saying?

There’s a reason a sword-art is called a sword-art and a fist-art a fist-art.

It’s not impossible to unfold a weapon art barehanded. But in the operation of true energy, in the lines, in every part, considerable changes must be worked through.

Yet this astonishing son of his had, barehanded, emitted a power not inferior to the weapon art.

All Streams Return to the Source...

Unawares, Yeon Wi let out a hearty chuckle.

“Heh-heh.”

Yeon Hojeong blinked. It was the first time he’d seen his father laugh like that.

How to put it... for some reason, gooseflesh...

Stopping his laugh, Yeon Wi asked,

“Very well—what shall we call the martial art you’ve obtained?”

For a moment, words caught in Yeon Hojeong’s throat.

May I say it?

Four Spirit Arts.

The peerless canon attributed to the Four Sovereigns of the Directions—the martial artist who ended the Blood Sect turmoil three hundred years ago and is counted first when naming the strongest in the millennia of martial history.

In truth, there was no reason to hide it from someone who already knew he was learning other arts.

But the Four Spirit Arts were a single-transmission art his master had personally passed down. In a single-transmission, even parents and siblings are outsiders; without his master’s leave, was it right to reveal it outside?

However—

Keep it simple.

Since his return, he hadn’t even met his master. And his master was someone who wandered without a fixed abode, seeking the Way.

He had no interest in the struggles of the mundane world. He regarded the Four Spirit Arts themselves as a superb canon; even if someone knew of them, he would not care.

Besides...

Come to think of it, wasn’t this a bit odd?

Inwardly, Yeon Hojeong tilted his head.

As the present heir of the Four Spirit Arts, why should I be bound by some ancestor’s rules? I don’t even know if such rules exist to begin with.

In the end, how he handled his own martial art was entirely up to him, wasn’t it?

“...Ho.”

Seen now, it had been a non-problem from the start.

Free, am I?

Ho, ho.

Watching his son stroke his chin with a sly grin, Yeon Wi knit his brows.

“Why are you smiling so wickedly?”

“Sir? Ah—no reason.”

With confident cheer, Yeon Hojeong said,

“The martial art I’ve learned is called Four Spirit Arts, the Four Spirit Canon.”

“Four Spirit Arts?”

“Yes.”

Yeon Wi’s eyes gleamed.

“The very Four Spirits of Azure Dragon of the ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) East, White Tiger of the West, Vermilion Bird of the South, and Black Tortoise of the North?”

“Exactly.”

“The lines and forms of the martial art you unfolded were perfect beyond approach. Biased toward offense, yes—but within the frame of offense there was no further to go.”

“That is White Tiger’s martial art—the Beast-King Nine Thunder Stances.”

“White Tiger’s martial art... then the others, each in their own domains?”

“Yes. And here’s how ridiculous this martial art is.”

“Mind your tongue.”

“Then—here’s how laughably extreme this martial art is.”

Yeon Hojeong explained in detail the properties of the Four Spirit Arts.

The more he heard, the more astonishment spread over Yeon Wi’s face.

“Four peerless canons specialized for attack, defense, instant kill, and evasion-with-counterattack, all made the weapons of one system...”

“That’s right.”

“There aren’t many canons that make a fence of skills so extremely specialized in offense, defense, killing, evasion, and counter. Our household canon is a rare middle-way martial art. Yet the art you’ve obtained doesn’t seem to walk the middle way.”

“Not the middle way—an art of the battlefield, each domain developed to the extreme. Different from our household art.”

“So it seems.”

Yeon Wi cocked his head.

“And the more I hear, the more one man’s martial art comes to mind.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes brightened.

“The Four Sovereigns of the Directions.”

“Indeed.”

“You know of the Four Sovereigns of the Directions as well, Father?”

“Isn’t that obvious? In the annals of the white-path martial world, he left an indelible trace—a peerless hero, a martial man worthy of respect. You can’t discuss martial history without knowing him.”

“...”

“Don’t tell me—you’ve only known of him for a short while?”

Yeon Hojeong cleared his throat.

Clicking his tongue, Yeon Wi said,

“No matter what, you should have basic knowledge. He was a great figure. It’s right to at least know the deeds of a great figure.”

“I understand.”

“In any case, whether the art you’ve obtained is the Four Sovereigns’ peerless canon, I don’t know—but I can tell it’s a superb discipline. And that you’re digging deep into it.”

Then, seriously,

“I’ll ask. Do you intend to see the end with those Four Spirit Arts?”

“I do.”

“...Very well. Understood.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled. He knew why his father had asked that question.

“I won’t neglect the household canon. Don’t worry.”

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“Even to my cursory eye, the Four Spirit Arts lack nothing when set beside our household peerless canon. Bringing such an art to great completion is truly difficult. If you intend to see the end with it, there’s no need to turn your eyes to other arts.”

He spoke without showing the least disappointment—and he meant it.

Yeon Hojeong said,

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Hm?”

“If I know the household canon and learn at least a little, it will help when I select clanspeople to whom I’ll teach the Four Spirit Arts, won’t it?”

For an instant, surprise flickered across Yeon Wi’s face.

“You mean—you intend to incorporate the martial art you’ve obtained into our household?”

“I am of the Yeon Clan. I don’t think it’s a problem for someone of the clan to share what is his with the household.”

“Are you sincere?”

“Of course.”

The Yeon Clan was strong.

But its forces were small, and it had few core experts. In practice, all of Yeon Hojeong’s uncles had split off into branch houses, and they were hard to see except at ancestral rites.

Put simply, the clan’s strength came from the excellence of its martial studies and the people’s support. In actual force, it did lag the other sects.

Yeon Hojeong thought,

The main household’s fighting strength must grow stronger.

When the Three Fanatical Churches bare their fangs, the Central Plains will become a sea of blood. That much was certain.

Even if they’d averted immediate annihilation, it was doubtful they could survive the calamities to come. All the more reason to build the Yeon Clan’s strength—sooner rather than later.

“However, the Four Spirit Arts are a peerless canon that you can’t even enter without the right sense. Even if we incorporate them into the household curriculum, only a very few will be able to learn them.”

Yeon Wi was silent for a moment.

The clan... the clan, eh.

That his son had obtained martial arts of this caliber could be called a fateful encounter.

Ordinarily, obtaining such a marvelous art, one would make it a personal peerless canon. Yet his son proposed to fold his art into the clan’s peerless repertoire.

Suddenly, he recalled something his son had once said:

Even if our aims differ, my heart is always here. If it’s to protect the clan, I’ll raise my blade to the world—even if they brand me a demon-lord.

Yeon Wi closed his eyes.

He chewed over his son’s words again and again—and after half a breath, opened them.

“I understand your intent well.”

There was a softened something in his gaze.

“If that’s where your heart lies, then as Clan Lord of the Yeon, I offer thanks. Thank you for handing down a superb martial art.”

“No need.”

“There’s a fair bit I’ve put off. I mean to wrap it all up within three days. After that, we’ll convene and discuss this.”

“Understood.”

Just then—

“Father! Brother! Are you here?!”

Yeon Hojeong’s face brightened.

“You’re here.”

From the far side of the training ground, Yeon Jipyeong was running over. He’d seen him from a distance before the friendly match with Father, but meeting him this close felt newly joyous.

Smiling, Yeon Hojeong went to greet him.

And in the next instant, his smile evaporated at Yeon Jipyeong’s bolt-from-the-blue.

“Brother! Congratulations! I already greeted Sister-in-law!”

“...W-What?”

“She’s really beautiful! A fairy—an actual fairy!”

Yeon Hojeong’s jaw dropped.

A faint smile touched Yeon Wi’s face. Oddly, that smile seemed, somehow, to be cheering for Yeon Jipyeong. He, too, was a father, after all.

And so, the father and two sons gathered—for the first time in a very long while.