Black and White Martial Emperor

BAAAM!

Basarek’s eyes widened in shock as he was knocked backward.

What the hell is this bastard?!

THUD!

With a light kick off the ground, the man was suddenly right in his face. It wasn’t that the speed was outrageous—yet it was strangely hard to respond to.

WHOOOOM! KRA-KOOOM!

Heavy.

Basarek pulled up the protective force of the Sumeru Reverse Buddha Art with everything he had, but the impact was still so violent his waist bent backward.

“You little—!”

A giant fist blooming with red light burned the air as it drove for Mo Yong-woo’s head.

Fast—and sharp.

Basarek stood a full head taller than Mo Yong-woo, his entire body armored in muscles developed past the limit, and yet the martial arts he used were flexible and quick.

But that was all.

Once Mo Yong-woo truly focused on him, Mo Yong-woo’s martial arts became something else entirely.

BAM-BAM!

Basarek’s eyes bulged.

His fist—loaded with the power of the Buddha Ridge Divine Fist—was knocked up and away at once. Layer upon layer of force pressed in, disrupting his fist path.

CRACK!

Basarek’s face twisted.

Damn it.

A sharp pain flared in his abdomen from a whipping kick.

He’d forged a body that blades couldn’t pierce—yet he felt pain?

That meant the opponent’s attack power was above his defense.

“You son of a bitch!”

It was betrayal—of a body he’d believed would never break unless it was struck by a mountain hermit master of the Nine Sects and One Union, or a top leader of the Six Great Clans.

Basarek stomped down hard.

BOOM!

A powerful tremor ran through the ground.

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes flashed.

THUD!

Mo Yong-woo leapt into the air to avoid the incoming vibration and gripped the Demon-Sweeping Greatsword with both hands.

Sever.

FLASH!

The heavy blade grazed Basarek’s shoulder as it passed.

It was a sword decision meant to take his head in a single strike. Basarek’s flexible evasiveness shone for an instant.

He’s refined himself properly.

From the outside, he looked like a body that would be endlessly clumsy.

But the reality was the opposite.

The power from his well-developed muscles was immense. His joint flexibility rivaled any master in the Central Plains. His quick movement was swift as a swallow.

A horse bandit chief who sucked the blood of commoners—but at least in martial arts, he’d trained properly. A body, a martial art, with a remarkably well-balanced harmony of hardness and softness.

CLANG!

Mo Yong-woo caught the raining fist techniques on the flat of the greatsword.

Someone who has truly mastered martial arts knows the exact timing of attack, evasion, and defense.

Someone who takes it one step further manifests two or three methods at once—evasion and attack in a single breath.

Basarek was exactly that sort.

That was why he could easily crush armed opponents even with bare hands.

But.

FWOOSH!

Mo Yong-woo’s figure appeared behind Basarek’s left rear.

Urgency surfaced on Basarek’s face.

That’s all.

KRA-KOOOM!

“Ghk!”

Basarek staggered.

He managed to turn and fire off a fist-strike, but Mo Yong-woo’s Demon-Sweeping Greatsword carried a mountain’s weight.

BANG!

Mo Yong-woo closed the distance and, in the next instant, swung his sword at terrifying speed.

SHK-SHK-SHK-SHK!

“Keugh!”

Over a dozen sword wounds bloomed across Basarek’s body.

This attack also only cut flesh. It didn’t split muscle or break bone.

But Basarek realized something.

Deeper?!

The cuts were slightly deeper.

As he recoiled in alarm, the greatsword extended—driving in toward his pectoral muscle.

“Hk!”

CLANG!

He slapped the greatsword away with his fist and hunched his upper body.

Drip.

Basarek’s eyes shook.

That slash had cut through flesh and into muscle. He cinched the muscle tight with True Qi to stop the bleeding, but the amount of blood that burst out in that instant was significant.

“Now I’m getting used to it.”

Basarek stared at Mo Yong-woo.

FLASH!

From Mo Yong-woo’s body as he advanced—eyes blazing with a frightening glare—blue True Qi rose like the sky itself.

“I’m finally used to how hard you are.”

Basarek’s face twisted.

Used to it? Just getting used to it was enough to cut what he couldn’t cut before?

“You brat. I was going to end this cleanly, but—!”

That was when—

KRA-KOOOM! BAAAM!

“AAAAH!”

“R-Run!”

“Band Lord! Band Lord!”

“Boss! We have to run!”

RUMBLE!

Basarek’s eyes widened.

The wall between the inner hall and outer hall collapsed, and his men came pouring in.

They weren’t escaping.

They’d been pushed all the way back here because they couldn’t withstand the enemy’s overwhelming force.

FWOOOOSH!

Beyond the flood of men, someone revealed himself—spewing explosive Qi waves.

KRA-KOOOM! KABOOOM!

It was like watching dead leaves in a gale.

When the ash-black chain writhed, horse bandits’ necks tore free and flew. When the black-and-white dragon-shaped axe swept past, torsos shattered into fragments.

It was the charge of a three-headed, six-armed monster no one could stop. The Killing Intent of the one slaughtering them surged like flames.

Calling him a War God still didn’t feel like enough.

And behind that War God—there was a divine archer, streaking through the air and drawing her bowstring as if she could fly.

“...What.”

Basarek’s pupils trembled.

“What is that lunatic?!”

Then Mo Yong-woo spoke.

“The Evil-Smiting Corps commander.”

“What?”

“He’s the head of the Evil-Smiting Corps, and the Central Plains’ greatest rising star—known by the epithet the Green Mountain Tiger General. The Yeon Clan’s eldest son. And...”

Mo Yong-woo adjusted his grip on the Demon-Sweeping Greatsword.

“He’s my younger brother.”

KRA-KOOOM!

A thick vein bulged on Basarek’s forehead.

“Grr!”

It was terrifying strength.

Seeing Yeon Hojeong’s crazed rampage, Mo Yong-woo’s own fighting spirit seemed to ignite. Basarek crossed his arms to block the sword-strike, but Mo Yong-woo pressed in harder, forcing his way through with brute power.

Drip.

The greatsword dug deeper and deeper into muscle.

No—

Basarek recognized his own situation with perfect clarity.

I’m losing.

Losing wasn’t the real problem. The problem was that at this rate, he might actually die.

Run.

Basarek had no honor, no pride. Like Mo Yong-woo said, the greatest value in his world had always been survival.

And it wasn’t just him. Every man who lived under the name of “horse bandit” was the same.

Basarek barked out a shout.

“Everyone, scatter—!”

THUD!

“KRAAAGH!”

Basarek dropped to one knee. A line of invisible force detonated across his back.

A True Qi arrow—Shadowless Bullet.

Mookbi, who’d been slaughtering bandits from dozens of jang away, had fired a wrathful strike.

If it had been an iron arrow instead of Shadowless Bullet, he would’ve died on the spot. For Basarek, it was a miracle of luck.

CRACK!

Blood sprayed from Basarek’s mouth.

Mo Yong-woo’s knee smashed into his jaw.

BAM-BAM-BAM!

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes glittered.

He’d intended to take Basarek’s head in one blow—but even then, Basarek spread fist-and-palm to block the sword-strikes. A stubborn bastard.

Still, it wasn’t without results.

SHK!

Basarek’s left index finger, middle finger, and ring finger were cut off.

“Grr!”

KRA-KOOOM! SHK!

Basarek threw his body left. Mo Yong-woo’s sword cut across his back, but he still managed to slip away.

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes flashed.

“Where do you think you’re going!”

That was when—

CLINK-CLINK-CLINK-CLINK!

A chain shot through the blood-filled air and tightened around Basarek’s throat.

“Kkh!”

Terrifying Killing Intent poured out of Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.

“Come here.”

CHANG!

The Flood Dragon Chain snapped taut, and Basarek’s body lifted into the air.

FLASH!

Mo Yong-woo’s greatsword lunged forward like a streak of light.

SHK!

It was a response that made admiration rise despite everything.

Even while being strangled by the chain and flying through the air, Basarek twisted his body to evade Mo Yong-woo’s lightning-fast sword. He took a severe cut across the back, but he prevented his torso from being split in half.

A monstrous will to live.

His ability to read an enemy’s killing intent was beyond imagination.

“HYAAH!”

KRA-KOOOM!

Basarek slammed both feet into the ground and yanked the Flood Dragon Chain. His body—born with innate divine strength—held the Sumeru Reverse Buddha Art to an extreme. And with death pressing down on him, he poured out strength that defied reason.

But this time, he had the wrong opponent.

WHOOOOOM!

The Vermilion Bird Qi of a Fire Heaven flowed into the Flood Dragon Chain.

“Hup!”

KRA-KOOOM!

Basarek’s body rose into the air again.

W-What?!

He’d pulled with explosive force, but he was still being dragged in—worse, the other side was pulling him with just one hand!

Basarek’s pupils blew wide.

A monster stared at him through a face smeared in blood.

“RAAAAH!”

THUD!

Basarek’s legs flew off from below the knees.

KRA-KOOOM!

Legless, Basarek slammed into the ground.

Yeon Hojeong stepped on Basarek’s face.

THUD!

His nose broke, teeth flew out, and his right cheekbone shattered, caving in.

Basarek’s trembling body went limp.

He’d passed out.

Yeon Hojeong looked at Mo Yong-woo.

Just from his eyes, Mo Yong-woo knew what he wanted. Mo Yong-woo shouted loudly.

“Everyone, stop!”

WHOOOOM! WHOOOOM!

His voice thundered across the area—so loud it could make you think of a sound art. It didn’t lose at all to Basarek’s voice, which had raged like an audio technique.

“You’ve lost! Drop your weapons—now!”

Fear filled the bandits’ faces.

At Mo Yong-woo’s side, Yeon Hojeong held Basarek up by the nape, staring at them with a killing glare.

Cold dread crawled over them.

A monster had appeared out of nowhere and swung an axe, producing staggering casualties. And as if he still wasn’t tired, he held their boss up and stared at them—his body spilling apocalyptic Qi waves.

His gaze and his Qi wave said it clearly.

If you don’t surrender, you die.

CLANK. CLANK.

One by one, the bandits lowered their weapons.

When their momentum rose, their morale could become monstrous. But once it broke, it collapsed beyond recovery. Their greatest strength turning into their worst weakness—that moment had arrived.

It was the limit of horse bandits. For people who valued survival above all else, a fight to the last man could never exist.

Mo Yong-woo exhaled.

Is it over...?

Then his gaze turned to Yeon Hojeong.

Yeon Hojeong was slowly shaking his head. The Killing Intent filling his eyes burned even harder.

Surprise surfaced on Mo Yong-woo’s face.

You want to kill them?

Yes.

We already got a surrender. There’s no need to—

They dropped their weapons. That’ll make it easier.

...!

Don’t worry. I’ll carry the karma.

In Mo Yong-woo’s stunned eyes, the formations of the Evil-Smiting Corps and Demon-Sweeping Corps suddenly came into view.

“...!!”

When had it started?

The Demon-Sweeping Corps and the Evil-Smiting Corps had surrounded the Gray Wolf Band with exquisite precision.

A deployment optimized for an ambush.

In an instant, Mo Yong-woo understood.

Brother...?!

That’s right.

The moment he entered the battlefield, Yeon Hojeong couldn’t help but think about not only destroying the enemy, but also minimizing allied losses.

That was why he hadn’t simply broken through a single point and shattered them completely. That would kill more enemies—but it would also obviously raise allied casualties.

Flashing east, flashing west, Yeon Hojeong had been pushing his allies into density.

Without even realizing it, the Demon-Sweeping Corps and the Evil-Smiting Corps had gradually formed a surrounding net around the Gray Wolf Band.

THUD!

Yeon Hojeong tossed Basarek ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) away like trash and stared at the bandits.

And it wasn’t just that.

Unlike the Demon-Sweeping Corps, who’d relaxed because they thought it was won, every member of the Evil-Smiting Corps had eyes like Yeon Hojeong’s. They’d lived through this kind of moment too many times.

Yeon Hojeong spoke coldly.

“I command the Evil-Smiting Corps.”

TSSSSSS.

Dense Killing Intent spread like fog.

“Send them off cleanly.”