Black and White Martial Emperor

“Hoo...”

“You’re awake now?”

“Big brother?”

“Yes.”

Mo Yong-woo nodded, his face looking worn-out.

Mo Yonggun frowned.

“Was it that hard on you?”

“...Yes.”

He hesitated, then finally admitted it.

Even if things were difficult, Mo Yong-woo was the type who always said he was fine—said it was bearable. This time, he acknowledged it without resistance. He really must have suffered.

“Why would the Abbot spar with you in the first place? Of course, sparring with someone at that level is an incredible chance to learn, but still.”

Abbot Gonggong of Shaolin.

A direct disciple of Muheo, the Fist God—one of the Thirteen Seats of the Sacred Heavens—and a man widely evaluated as possessing the greatest martial arts among the leaders of the Nine Sects and One Union and the Six Great Clans.

He rarely revealed what he truly had, but the heads of the various sects tacitly agreed on one thing:

Aside from the Thirteen Seats of the Sacred Heavens, the strongest person alive was Abbot Gonggong.

They had no choice but to agree. Even the little he had shown was enough to shake the whole world.

And beyond that, he had personally inherited the teachings of an Immortal Sovereign King—an absolute powerhouse from three hundred years ago, an era said to have been the pinnacle of the martial world.

Calling him the strongest leader of the Orthodox Path wasn’t an exaggeration.

For a master like that to spar with you?

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The only mystery was why he would come in person and do it now, at this timing.

“I don’t know the exact reason.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I definitely felt goodwill... but I also felt like even that was vague.”

Mo Yong-woo’s voice was very cautious.

No matter who you were, putting Abbot Gonggong’s name in your mouth was difficult. That was the kind of weight his name carried.

Mo Yonggun nodded.

“It’s not unreasonable that you’d feel that way. In truth... even I still haven’t grasped the Abbot’s true intent.”

He was certainly compassionate—someone who valued chivalry, with not a single speck of impurity in his heart. A true orthodox man of the Orthodox Path.

And yet, at times it felt like he was hiding something inside. His heart for the world felt sincere, but it also seemed like he pursued something beyond that.

And he always maintained political neutrality.

For Mo Yonggun—who intended to seize the highest authority—that made Abbot Gonggong impossible to ignore.

“One thing was certain.”

“Hm?”

“His martial arts. I could feel why people call Shaolin the number one sect of the Orthodox Path.”

Mo Yonggun’s eyes gleamed.

“Of course it must have overwhelmed you, but was it really that incredible?”

“Yes.”

Mo Yong-woo nodded.

“Shaolin’s martial arts were incredible... but the Abbot’s martial arts were incredible too.”

“What are you saying? The Abbot’s martial arts are Shaolin’s martial arts.”

“It’s...”

Mo Yong-woo worked his mouth, looking awkward.

“It’s... a little different.”

“Different?”

“Yes. Of course, what he uses is Shaolin’s martial arts, but...”

Mo Yonggun shook his head.

“That makes no sense.”

“I can’t explain it well either. But he was truly strong. This was the first time I’ve ever felt so powerfully that something was a wall I couldn’t overcome.”

“Huh...”

“And so.”

Excitement settled in Mo Yong-woo’s tired face.

“I think I found a clue. A way to break through the Martial End Wall.”

*****

PHOOOOM!

With a blast that pierced the air, Abbot Gonggong’s figure landed back on the ground.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

So it really is like that.

Even though he’d come down with both feet planted, there wasn’t a speck of dust on Abbot Gonggong.

Yeon Hojeong had unfolded Beast-King Nine Thunder Stances as fist forms and hammered him with it—and yet Abbot Gonggong looked like this. He had easily stopped punches that would have left even a Transcendent Peak master combat-incapacitated in a single exchange.

SKREEE!

Yeon Hojeong took position opposite him.

Abbot Gonggong murmured in admiration.

“Don’t tell me you read my movement?”

“I did.”

“Hah! Did you already know Shaolin’s martial arts?”

“How could I?”

“Then how?”

Grnnk.

Yeon Hojeong raised Mad Dragon (Axe) again.

And now his eyes flashed with four colors.

“If you’re weak, and you spend your life trying to kill the strong... you learn things on your own.”

BOOOOM!

The ground shook again.

This stamping step was twice as violent as the first one he’d shown. Powered by that stomp, Yeon Hojeong surged forward like an arrow.

He’s coming.

A faint golden gleam rose in Abbot Gonggong’s pupils.

A straightforward charge. But...

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Even though he ran lightly, each time his toes brushed the earth, heaven and earth trembled. It was like a mountain-sized tiger was charging.

Mysterious.

It was footwork.

But it was not ordinary footwork.

It’s as if even the footwork is an attack...

The sheer momentum of his advance shaved away the enemy’s will to fight.

This wasn’t just Yeon Hojeong’s personal aggression. The martial art itself had that nature. Charging forward while drawing in Qi—the method of operation was refined to an absurd degree.

WHOOOONG!

The gigantic blade of Mad Dragon (Axe), catching sunlight, swung toward Abbot Gonggong’s collarbone.

A slanted strike, carrying the force to split his chest open in a single blow.

A strange excitement rose on Abbot Gonggong’s face.

This abnormal strength and insight...

The motion looked simple, but it wasn’t an attack you could casually block or evade. Before the motion even began, a wave of Qi had already seized the space—reading the opponent’s reactions completely.

Abbot Gonggong’s right palm slapped straight into the axe blade.

KRRRRAAANG!

Surprise flashed across Yeon Hojeong’s face.

He had drawn up every bit of strength through White Tiger Lording Step and thrown it into that blow.

And it had been knocked aside by a single palm strike.

But even if one attack failed, there was no panic.

Riding the rebounding flow of the axe, Yeon Hojeong swung his body and snapped a high airborne kick upward.

PAAANG!

The kick tore the air and sent out a shockwave like rippling water.

Abbot Gonggong, who had slid half a step left to seize Yeon Hojeong’s ankle, had to abandon the choice instantly.

Damn.

WOOOONG!

The shockwave spreading through the air was pushing away the hand reaching for Yeon Hojeong’s ankle.

If he forced the grab anyway, a counter would fly immediately. Between masters, victory was decided in an instant—there was no need to force a technique that might not even work.

WHOOSH!

This time, it was Yeon Hojeong’s turn to be startled.

Fast!

As his posture broke and he spun in the air, Yeon Hojeong saw Abbot Gonggong’s fist driving in from his left blind spot.

Yeon Hojeong’s left palm moved urgently. His left hand whipped like lightning—laden with Black Tortoise Qi.

KABOOM!

Ghk.

Yeon Hojeong flew and landed on the ground.

I didn’t block it perfectly.

His left wrist and elbow rang with a sharp vibration. He’d deployed Black Tortoise Qi in a split second, but he hadn’t had time to fully shape a proper defensive form.

“Incredible.”

Abbot Gonggong looked just as surprised.

“Even the tough rebound elasticity I can feel from your True Qi is outstanding, but you also have defense like an iron wall? And with one hand?”

Yeon Hojeong exhaled deeply.

He didn’t even have time to speak.

Abbot Gonggong had already launched another attack.

PAPAPAPANG!

Shaolin’s Vajra Fist poured in.

Its speed alone was dizzying, but the fist pressure transmitted through the air went beyond imagination. If you let your guard down just because he wasn’t using a supreme technique, the joints throughout your body would be shattered.

KABOOM!

Stepping into the strongest White Tiger Lording Step he’d used so far, Yeon Hojeong detonated Beast-King Nine Thunder Stances.

KRRRSHHHH!

It was a brutal clash.

Against Mad Dragon (Axe)—constantly reshaping itself into the ideal form for “attack,” adapting moment by moment—Abbot Gonggong displayed a fist art that didn’t retreat even an inch.

So this is the unmatched fist art of thousand-year Shaolin...

Yeon Hojeong drew breath until his lungs felt like they’d rupture to build endurance, then used Vermilion Bird Qi to blast his bloodflow into explosive output, attacking with every last ounce of himself.

A steel assault, pushing forward with the weight of a thousand pounds.

And yet that assault wasn’t being allowed to show its true force.

It’s blocked. No gaps. Not even a sign it’ll break through.

Perfect.

Abbot Gonggong’s unadorned fistwork was batting aside every single strike of Mad Dragon (Axe).

And it wasn’t even defense.

Abbot Gonggong was attacking right back. Their attacks—their fighting spirit—their power—were colliding head-on.

Unbelievable.

Attack was the best defense.

That was how Yeon Hojeong fought. He was the kind of attack-oriented martial artist who even used Black Tortoise Qi—supposedly a defensive art—to launch offense.

Abbot Gonggong could do it too.

And Abbot Gonggong hadn’t even brought out any of Shaolin’s famous supreme techniques yet.

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze flashed.

Even above my father—!

KRAAAANG!

Under the pressure of Mad Dragon (Axe) crushing down on crossed forearms, Abbot Gonggong’s feet sank nearly three inches into the ground.

Sssshhk.

It was a strike meant to truly smash and kill.

Blood seeped along Abbot Gonggong’s forearm where he blocked it.

That was all.

He stopped an axe blow that could have pulverized several men on the spot—and the only damage was torn skin.

“...That one was dangerous.”

BOOM!

With another explosive sound, Yeon Hojeong slid back.

His eyes shook.

Huh?!

WOOOOOO...

A soft golden aura rose from Abbot Gonggong’s body. It looked as if even his skin had turned gold.

Abbot Gonggong gave a wry smile.

“As expected. Without drawing out one of our temple’s supreme arts... this seems to be my limit.”

Yeon Hojeong looked from Abbot Gonggong’s arm to his own axe blade and clicked his tongue.

“Is that the famous Vajra-Body, Unbreakable Divine Art?”

“It is.”

Abbot Gonggong smiled.

“I don’t know how long it’s been... since I last raised this art during a spar with another person.”

“Hoo...”

Yeon Hojeong steadied his breathing.

That explosive collision a moment ago had heated his heart and lungs. Even he had never drawn out this much strength in a one-on-one duel—

Except when he’d sparred with his father.

SHHHK—RATTLE!

Holding Mad Dragon (Axe) in his right hand, Yeon Hojeong uncoiled Flood Dragon Chain from around his upper body with his left.

After stabilizing his breath, Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“Shall we go for round two—”

“Shall we stop here?”

“...Huh?”

Yeon Hojeong blinked.

“You’re saying we stop?”

“That’s right.”

“Why—why?”

Yeon Hojeong was flustered.

He’d put everything into it from the opening exchange, but he still had plenty of stamina. If he managed his breathing, he could fight for half a day more.

But Abbot Gonggong shook his head, cool and firm.

“I don’t think you need any more sparring from me.”

“What martial artist in this world doesn’t need sparring?”

“Hoho. That’s absolutely true, but... it’s because I have nothing more to give you.”

“...?”

Abbot Gonggong clasped his hands behind his back.

He made it clear with his actions: he didn’t want to fight anymore. Seeing that Abbot Gonggong had truly relaxed his posture, Yeon Hojeong couldn’t help but feel deflated.

I haven’t even brought out Azure Dragon Art or Flood Dragon Chain yet.

He’d intended to use this chance to refine them properly, since the Abbot had said he’d take it all.

And now he was cutting it off like this—shamelessly.

Yeon Hojeong relaxed his stance, grumbling.

“It was a good opportunity. What a waste.”

“A good opportunity? You were planning to forge a new martial art against me?”

“You knew?”

“I could see it in your movement. And that chain—yes, you can handle it, but it doesn’t look easy for you yet.”

Sharp eyes.

Reading what the opponent wanted through their martial art, and gauging their level through their movement.

“Don’t worry. At your level, you don’t need to refine it through me. Once you complete sufficient training, you’ll be able to use it immediately in real combat.”

“Tch.”

Abbot Gonggong’s eyes deepened.

Yeon Hojeong flinched without meaning to.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“...”

“...?”

“Commander Yeon.”

Yeon Hojeong straightened without realizing it. The weight in the Abbot’s voice was different now.

“Go on.”

“I want you to stop.”

“...Stop what?”

In an instant, Abbot Gonggong’s clear, deep gaze sharpened like an awl.

“I’ll speak properly to Clan Lord Mo Yong. But I want both sides to stop the political struggle.”

“...!!”