Black and White Martial Emperor

When Mo Yonggun returned to his quarters, his face had hardened into something as cold as ice.

Ho Gyeong asked carefully.

“My... Clan Lord...”

Mo Yonggun raised a hand.

That detached gesture made it unmistakable: he wanted to be alone. Ho Gyeong bowed his head and left the room.

And just like that, Mo Yonggun was left by himself.

He crossed one leg over the other and tapped the table with his index finger—tap, tap, tap.

The sight of it was filled with a strange sense of wrongness.

How much time passed like that?

All at once, the corner of Mo Yonggun’s mouth twitched.

“You thought I wouldn’t know?”

Mo Yonggun’s eyes, lifted toward the ceiling, were as fierce as a beast’s—and as deep and wise as a cultivator who had reached enlightenment.

“You thought that if you put the Lord of the Je Gal Clan out front, I wouldn’t realize you were the one pulling the strings from behind?”

Mo Yonggun glared into empty air with a cold smile and a gaze a thousand times colder than that.

Then he burst into loud laughter.

“HA! HAHAHAHA!!”

The laughter exploded so hard it felt like it could rip the whole room away—and there was something refreshingly cathartic in it.

“Seriously. I can’t keep up with your tricks. So that’s why you’re exactly the kind of talent I’d want to get my hands on. I threw you out of the inauguration ceremony, and you immediately grabbed me by the hair and started tearing.”

He’s incredible.

He wasn’t just equipped with outstanding strategy and political ability—now he’d gone after the very peak of the Alliance of the Martial World: the Alliance Leader’s Office.

Mo Yonggun found himself wondering if someone like this could even exist. This wasn’t about whether you had ability or not. Unless you were the kind of lunatic who could bet his life on something trivial, you wouldn’t even dare to attempt a move like this.

This wasn’t courage, and it wasn’t nerve.

It was just insanity.

But the real problem is that he’s big enough to hold that insanity.

Even a pretty good genius wouldn’t dare to think about using the Clan Lords of the Six Great Clans—people with higher standing than himself—as shields, and then twisting the entire board to his will.

But that bastard does it.

That was Yeon Hojeong.

A sinister warrior wearing the skin of a hot-blooded general. In some ways, his ruthlessness felt worse than even the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

How long has it been? Since I last got caught in someone’s trap with no way out.

Getting hit once by Yeon Hojeong and making him the commander of an Independent Field Force?

That was nothing. If anything, hadn’t Mo Yonggun turned a crisis into an opportunity by splitting the field force into two units and even creating a seat for Mo Yong-woo? The ability to turn danger into advantage was essential for a politician.

But this time, there was no way around it.

I said we’d decide after taking time—but it already looked like more than half the Councilors were leaning in favor.

Now that it had been brought up, the Deputy Alliance Leader position would be pushed through one way or another.

Spreading out seats meant spreading out power. And in the Orthodox Path, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say there wasn’t a single sect that welcomed concentrated authority.

It would take time, but it would pass.

The only adjustment would be this: two Deputy Alliance Leader seats would be too much, so they’d narrow it down to one.

What matters is the position itself—a Deputy Alliance Leader meant to prevent an Alliance Leader’s dictatorship. Proposing two seats was probably deliberate, meant to burn the importance of that position into everyone’s mind.

Mo Yonggun’s cheek twitched.

Was this really Yeon Hojeong, or was it the Lord of the Je Gal Clan’s scheme?

Je Gal Munho was a fox.

No one could ignore the words of Je Gal Munho—the man who, back then, had made his presence unmistakable by bringing up Alliance Law and the Alliance Council Statutes.

That was why he had clung to the issue by dragging out the deployment schedule. Even if the matters were different, it wasn’t easy to reject something twice in a row.

And if the one who raised it was a key figure in the Alliance—a military strategist—then it was even harder.

“Incredible.”

Mo Yonggun let out a crooked chuckle.

“A once-in-an-age genius joining hands with an old, seasoned schemer... that’s terrifying. I took a real hit.”

But there was still one question that wouldn’t go away.

“Why did you ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ rush it?”

Je Gal Munho had clearly predicted that Mo Yonggun would move up the Councilors’ meeting. And he had planned to drop the Deputy Alliance Leader matter there.

Why bother?

Whether it happened early or late, it was still just a one-day difference. Even if the meeting had been held on schedule, the result wouldn’t have changed.

Of course, it was possible they advanced the timing to bait complacency—and then, with one decisive move, carve the importance of Deputy Alliance Leader into everyone’s mind.

But was that really all?

Wasn’t there a reason they went as far as mobilizing Emei’s secular disciples just to make this side anxious and desperate?

“...!”

Mo Yonggun’s eyes widened.

“You...?”

Yeon Hojeong surfaced in his mind.

That thin, scholar-like face, and the blade-sharp eyes that made his genius unmistakable.

“You used me to pull Abbess Bokho perfectly onto your side?!”

Abbess Bokho—along with the heads of Shaolin and Wudang—was someone who placed enormous value on chivalry and righteousness.

If you wanted to pull someone like that onto your side, ordinary methods wouldn’t work. Unless you created a clear enemy and highlighted that enemy’s viciousness, you could never make her your ally.

“Ha! I got played twice—no, three times.”

Mo Yonggun had known Abbess Bokho had shifted to their side, but that wasn’t what mattered most in the moment, so he hadn’t paid it attention.

But thinking about it now, this wasn’t ordinary at all. The Councilors knew Abbess Bokho’s sense of justice and morality well.

In other words, her voice carried that much weight.

When a good person holds power, the moment they become truly terrifying is the moment evil appears.

Yeon Hojeong and Je Gal Munho had branded Mo Yonggun as that evil in Abbess Bokho’s eyes.

“Factional struggle... Was it to balance power?”

Without thinking, Mo Yonggun lifted both hands.

“Ha... This is an unquestionable, perfect defeat.”

To think he’d be hit with a counterattack like this the instant he let his guard down—he’d never even imagined it.

It was a chaotic day in every sense. Mo Yonggun locked himself in his quarters and grumbled for a long time.

*****

“So that’s how it turned out.”

“That’s right.”

Yeon Hojeong calmly sipped his tea.

Yeon Wi watched his son for a moment—his face showing not the slightest shift—and then asked lightly,

“So you meant to steer it into factional conflict?”

“Hm?”

“I mean pulling Abbess Bokho in this time.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Yeon Hojeong’s expression turned serious.

“The forces that joined hands with Mo Yonggun are at least four. With that much power, they’ll have more than enough leverage to rewrite agenda items however they like at the Councilors’ meeting.”

“Mm.”

“His ultimate goal is the Alliance Leader seat. And along the way, he’ll sacrifice countless people.”

“...”

“There are a few people—including me—who would be the biggest obstacles on that road. But unfortunately, he’s a Councilor, and I’m just the commander of an Independent Field Force.”

“So his position is the head, and you’re an extremity—so he put measures in place ahead of time to stop you from doing anything unnecessary. That’s what you mean?”

“That’s part of it. But more importantly... he’s skilled at vicious politics. Who’s to say there won’t be another person like Mo Yonggun among the Councilors?”

“...”

“If it were the Black Gate and the unorthodox factions that worship strength, maybe it would be different. But in the Orthodox Path, concentrated power will make many people miserable. Whoever becomes Alliance Leader, it’s better to establish a seat that can stop the Alliance Leader’s extreme dictatorship.”

Yeon Wi looked at his son as if he couldn’t believe him.

“You really are something.”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes when I talk to you, I wonder where you developed eyes like that. It’s not the first time you’ve shown something astonishing, either.”

Yeon Hojeong gave a small, amused smile.

“It’s just a minor knack.”

People who would stop at nothing to seize power existed everywhere.

Yeon Hojeong’s political talent was specialized for dealing with exactly those kinds of people.

He had conquered the underworld with force—but ruling the underworld he’d conquered required sensitive instincts and sharp judgment. He had faced too many people aiming for the seat of Lord of the Black Emperor’s Citadel for it not to shape him. His ability to see the essence had grown naturally.

That was why he knew it.

In the end, the Orthodox Path wasn’t all that different from the underworld—just another filthy world full of stagnant sludge.

“Anyway, in this round, Mo Yonggun took a real hit without having any way to respond. For a while, he’ll keep his head down.”

“I think so too.”

“On the surface.”

“Hm?”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes glinted.

“I don’t want to be tied up as the same kind of person, but Mo Yonggun and I are both the type who always pays back what we’re dealt. He’ll look quiet in front, but there’s no telling what kind of scheme he’ll build behind the scenes.”

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“He might be like that. But you and Mo Yonggun are different.”

Before anything else, he seemed to want to make that point crystal clear.

Yeon Hojeong shrugged.

“Well, what if we share some similarities. Even if someone’s nature is the same, depending on which path they choose, they can become a saint—or they can become evil.”

Yeon Wi smiled faintly.

“So then—what do you think you are?”

“At the very least, I’m definitely not a saint. My nature’s pretty petty.”

Yeon Hojeong’s face turned serious again.

“Either way, if Mo Yonggun truly sets his mind on plotting something in secret, there’s no way to find out.”

“That’s true.”

“In the end, all we can do is be careful. And then be careful again.”

Of course, if he went through Mo Yong-woo, he might be able to dig something up.

But this time, the Demon-Sweeping Corps and the Evil-Smiting Corps were deploying together. He wouldn’t be able to probe through Mo Yong-woo—and even if he did find something out, he’d have to act cautiously.

One wrong move, and the fatal card named Mo Yong-woo could be exposed.

I’ll need to let myself get hit to some extent. The question is how to control the level.

He had to control it well—so the other side wouldn’t notice his intent, and would keep viewing him the way they did now: as a young, troublesome rival who wasn’t easy to deal with.

Yeon Hojeong didn’t know it.

He didn’t know that Mo Yonggun was paying far more attention to him than he thought.

That wasn’t something you could easily see—even with sharp judgment. What was as natural to Yeon Hojeong as breathing wasn’t natural to his opponent.

You can infer it with your head.

But you don’t feel it in your bones.

If Yeon Hojeong had a blind spot, that was it.

“At least we’ve pushed things this far. He won’t be able to move recklessly like before.”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t worry about this side. Worry about your body first. The deployment is only three days away.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“Don’t worry.”

Even if you were told not to worry, you couldn’t help it. That had nothing to do with capability.

To Yeon Wi, Yeon Hojeong was his son. No matter how old a child got, a child was still a child.

“There’s no need to compete with the Demon-Sweeping Corps. I’m sure you know that already, but don’t start fighting over war merits for no reason.”

“Understood.”

“Even if he’s Mo Yonggun’s man, the commander of the Demon-Sweeping Corps has impressive character. Wiping out the enemy matters, but what matters most is coming back alive. Move while helping each other.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Still uneasy, Yeon Wi went on for a long time, piling up affectionate nagging.

They said even good words could sour if you heard them too many times. But Yeon Hojeong liked his father’s nagging all the same.

He wanted to keep hearing it for a long time—long after they had survived the Three Teachings’ Turmoil, too.

Yeon Hojeong truly, desperately hoped it would be so.

How much time passed like that?

“...?!”

“...”

Father and son’s eyes sharpened at once.

This presence...?

Then, from far away at the main gate, a clear voice rang out.

“Amitabha Buddha. Is Commander Yeon here?”

Surprise flashed across Yeon Hojeong’s face.

“Shaolin?!”