Black and White Martial Emperor

“...Ghk.”

Bloody foam bubbled from Blue Tiger’s mouth.

His body was so horribly mangled with bruises, stab wounds, gashes, and even burns that it was hard to bear looking at him. The fact that he was still standing on both feet at all looked like a miracle.

It was astonishing fighting spirit.

Unfortunately, his opponent was not the sort of man with enough humanity to value such spirit.

“Die already.”

Mo Yonggun flicked his sleeve carelessly.

BOOOOM!

Blue Tiger coughed up blood once more and rolled across the ground.

It was an invisible palm strike, a remote-force palm. With that blow, Blue Tiger’s insides had likely been ruined beyond recovery.

“Tough bastard.”

Mo Yonggun turned his head.

Mad Dog was there on one knee. He was gritting his teeth and glaring up at Mo Yonggun, but he clearly looked incapable of standing no matter what he did.

“Y-you son of a—”

SHHK.

Mad Dog’s head dropped clean off.

Mo Yonggun’s cheek twitched.

“Vermin.”

They had possessed martial arts impressive enough.

No—at this level, for the Dark Path, they truly were remarkable.

But in the end, they were still Dark Path trash.

The fact that he had wasted this much time on creatures like them offended his pride.

I’ve still got a long way to go.

This was his first true live combat since mastering Thunderclap Art and Merciless Heavenly Thunder Form.

The learning of the thunder arts was unquestionably powerful. His own comprehension, enough to manifest that destructive martial art, also seemed to lack very little.

But there was still a difference between comprehension and actually expressing martial arts in real combat.

No matter how much knowledge one possessed, if one could not use it, it was nothing but useless baggage. Martial arts were no different.

This may actually be for the best. I found the points I need to improve too.

Just then, Blue Tiger twitched again.

Irritation surfaced on Mo Yonggun’s face.

“Lie down already.”

“Cough! Uwaaak!”

“This blade was not forged to cut down mongrels like you. I would rather no more filthy blood stain a precious sword.”

KWAANG!

Blue Tiger smashed a fist into the ground and roared furiously.

“Mo Yonggun!!”

PUUUK!

Blue Tiger’s eyes flew open so wide they looked ready to split.

Mo Yonggun had crossed the distance as if folding space and, before anyone realized it, had already driven his sword into Blue Tiger’s throat.

“Who are you calling so carelessly with that filthy mouth?”

“Kuhk!”

Blue Tiger trembled violently, then went limp.

Only now was he truly dead.

But Mo Yonggun’s anger remained unchanged.

If anything, when the blood running down the blade smeared onto the back of his hand, the savagery in him multiplied several times over.

“Filth.”

PABABABABAK!

That terrifyingly swift sword carved through Blue Tiger’s body dozens of times.

Drip, drip, drip.

Blue Tiger’s corpse, chopped into tiny pieces, scattered across the ground.

“Hmph!”

Shaking the blood from his sword, Mo Yonggun snorted.

“You should count it an honor. Not everyone receives the privilege of being cut to pieces by my sword.”

It was arrogance without limit.

Sheathing his sword, Mo Yonggun looked west.

WAAAAA.

The battle over there still had not ended. Worse, it sounded even farther away than before, as if the fight were moving steadily westward.

“...Useless bastards.”

They still had not finished off a mere combat unit from an organization that had not even been established that long.

Every last one of them displeased him.

Even the clan forces he had stationed to the west were warriors specially selected to block escape routes. They were men with skill, in their own right.

“Once this business is over, I’ll overturn the clan from top to bottom.”

That said, he could not simply leave his remaining strength like this.

Mo Yonggun clicked his tongue and drove off the ground.

Or rather, he tried to.

“...?!”

Mo Yonggun’s expression changed completely.

...What is this?

Crackle.

It felt as though the lightning qi rising from his dantian had surged straight into his head in a single burst.

WOOOOONG! WOOOOOOONG!

He had not released his energy of his own will, and yet it began pouring out on its own.

It was as though Thunderclap Art itself had been struck by fear. At the same time, it almost seemed as if it were trying desperately to wrap around his entire body to protect its master.

What in the...?

A deeply ominous presence was approaching from far to the south.

The problem was the sheer size of that presence.

Impossible.

Mo Yonggun’s eyes widened.

This kind of power?!

FWAAAAAAH.

A wave of heat pushed aside the cold air of late autumn.

It was no different from lava itself.

It was so far away it could not even be seen, yet the pressure radiating from it was overwhelming beyond words.

And more than that, it was not the force of countless masters moving together. The energy was neither scattering in all directions nor gathering into one unified military aura.

It was one person.

This absolute aura—this crushing presence so overwhelming that even Mo Yonggun, unrivaled beneath the heavens, could not force himself to take a step—was coming from one man alone.

And in all of Hunan Province, there was only one person capable of releasing such massive power in every direction.

“...Yangcheon?”

Hooook!

The searing gust that had been burning at full heat suddenly turned cold.

“....”

A line of cold sweat slid down the back of Mo Yonggun’s neck.

A moment later—

BUAAAAAANG!

It sounded as if the atmosphere itself had torn apart.

At last, that enormous presence had begun moving.

And its speed was as fast as lightning.

It moved so fast that even from this distance, he could hear the air screaming.

It was the charge of an absolute being finally placing his feet upon the world.

Run?

That meant nothing.

If they had been a hundred li apart, perhaps it would have been a different matter. But once the other side had already locked onto his presence, fleeing at this distance was meaningless.

That was the kind of man he was.

Those called the absolute masters of the martial world, those belonging to the Thirteen Seats of the Supreme Heavens, the masters famed as the strongest under heaven—such was the greatness of their power.

KWAKWAKWAKWAANG!

What kind of movement technique was this? How immense was the power behind it, and by what method was it being used?

Ruined houses that had been reduced to little more than planks shattered apart wildly. The charge of that monster, having broken even the speed of sound, released invisible shockwaves and shook heaven and earth.

And then, at last—

CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE!

The lightning qi protecting Mo Yonggun’s body was driven back, as though shattering under the impact of that violent shockwave.

KRRRCK.

So was Mo Yonggun himself.

His feet carved furrows over a full zhang long into the earth.

Damn it!

His bones throbbed.

If he had not raised Thunderclap Art to the limit, something would have broken for certain.

He didn’t even attack. Just moving at full power created this much force....

Mo Yonggun took one deep breath to steady himself, then fixed his gaze ahead.

He was there.

“Are you the head of the Mo Yong Clan?”

The moment he heard that low, sunken voice, it felt as though his nerves were twisting apart.

Just hearing the voice made it difficult to keep his footing.

Faced with the full might of an absolute being blazing with fury—the full power emitted by the undefeated strongest of the Dark Path—Mo Yonggun desperately raised his Inner Qi.

“I see.”

Yangcheon looked around with an expressionless face.

His gaze came to rest in turn on Blue Tiger’s corpse, scattered in dozens of pieces, Mad Dog’s beheaded corpse, and Water Dragon’s corpse with its upper body entirely blown away.

A faint smile touched Yangcheon’s lips.

“I hadn’t thought you’d have obtained that level of force. Impressive indeed. Rather than sending three of the Twelve Zodiac Gods, I might have been better off sending one of Rat or Ox instead.”

That likely meant those two possessed martial arts on an entirely different level even among the Twelve Zodiac Gods.

That too was valuable information, if one wanted to call it that. Since Yangcheon was throwing out that kind of information so freely, from the other side it was almost something to be grateful for.

But Mo Yonggun did not truly hear Yangcheon’s words.

Honestly.

He almost felt like laughing.

They say each master of the Supreme Heavens is little different from an immortal, but calling this a monster almost feels too mild.

Mo Yonggun smiled.

Yangcheon’s eyes flashed.

“...Yes. I can see your nerve is impressive, at least. I’ve never seen anyone smile like that in front of me until now.”

Still smiling as he looked at Yangcheon, Mo Yonggun brought his hands together in a perfectly formal salute.

“I am Mo Yonggun, head of the Mo Yong Clan. I greet Senior Yang, the Fighting King.”

Smiling was not all he was doing.

Tremble, tremble, tremble.

Mo Yonggun’s body was shaking faintly.

Not because he was afraid.

He was genuinely moved by the other man’s power—by the power of the Thirteen Seats of the Supreme Heavens.

Hm.

The corner of Yangcheon’s mouth rose.

This one’s more interesting than I expected.

Mo Yonggun raised his head.

The smile was still lingering on his face.

Yangcheon shook his head.

“I know you’re no ordinary man, but stop smiling now. I’m not in a very good mood.”

“Is that so?”

“The only reason I haven’t acted without another word is because what remains of my reason is still struggling to calm my rage. But even if I started by peeling the skin off your face, I would hardly be the one losing out.”

There was unbearable brutality in that calm voice.

He meant it.

One wrong move, and Yangcheon really would strip the skin from Mo Yonggun’s face.

Naturally, the act would take place in an instant. Mo Yonggun would be unable either to block the hand or evade it.

Mo Yonggun let the smile leave his face.

“My apologies. I had no intention of angering ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) you, Senior.”

“You’re coming at this with quite the lowered posture.”

“I’m not stupid enough to put my pride forward before the Fighting King.”

Yangcheon’s eyes gleamed.

What an odd fellow.

He was confident.

And in a certain sense, that confidence resembled the Director of the Intelligence Division’s.

The difference was that the Director of the Intelligence Division had bellowed at him while teaching him, whereas Mo Yonggun bowed his head confidently.

Director of the Intelligence Division.

Yangcheon lifted his head.

In the dark night sky, the full moon shining overhead stabbed painfully at his eyes.

Yangcheon closed his eyes.

“Explain.”

“Explain what?”

“Why you blew up the headquarters entrance. Whether that meant you intended to settle matters in open battle, or whether it was the childish blunder of a fool desperate for attention. And...”

Flash!

Yangcheon’s eyes snapped open again.

Though they were not facing each other directly, Mo Yonggun felt a chill run through his chest. Yangcheon’s eyes, raised toward the heavens, were fiercer and more vicious than the gaze of any beast in the world.

“Why you killed the Director of the Intelligence Division.”

The rage spreading out without end seemed as if it would swallow even the darkness.

Psssssssss.

A chunk of Blue Tiger’s flesh lying not far from Yangcheon turned to powder and scattered.

The same happened to Mad Dog’s corpse. The same to Water Dragon’s corpse.

He was not deliberately releasing Inner Qi. He was merely letting his savagery show, and even that alone was enough to reduce physical matter to dust.

He really is a monster.

Mo Yonggun inwardly clicked his tongue at Yangcheon’s calamitous power.

Can this truly be called power a human being can wield?

When he had cultivated Thunderclap Art and Merciless Heavenly Thunder Form, he had believed he would soon be able to reach the realm of the Thirteen Seats of the Supreme Heavens.

He had been wrong.

Utterly wrong.

The Thirteen Seats of the Supreme Heavens was not a realm one could reach simply by learning stronger and more mysterious martial arts.

Those people were fundamentally different from other martial artists.

Which only makes me want to reach it all the more.

Then Yangcheon spoke again.

“Let me make this clear. You’d better abandon from the start any thought of feeding me some useless lie or cheap trick. My chest may feel ready to burst from rage, but I’m not so dull that I can’t tell falsehood from truth.”

Yangcheon lowered his head and met Mo Yonggun’s gaze.

FLASH! FLASH!

A glare several times more threatening than even the lightning qi of Mo Yonggun, who had mastered Thunderclap Art, poured down like a waterfall.

“Speak. Why did you kill my subordinate?”

“Before that, let me ask one thing too.”

“...?”

“Why did the great Fighting King wish to see me in the first place? Tell me that first.”