Black and White Martial Emperor

When he reached the top floor, the place was in complete chaos.

“Great Hero Mo Yong! Allow me to offer you a drink! Please accept it!”

“Ah, no, I’m not a great hero—”

“Great Hero Mo Yong! Please try this! It’s the most expensive dish in this inn! It just came out! No one’s even touched it yet!”

“I, I—”

“Good heavens! Are these people, by any chance, from the Evil-Smiting Corps? It says ‘Evil-Smiting’ on their breastplates!”

“That’s true, but... no, that’s not it, we were just about to eat—”

“Then dine with us! We’ll treat you to the best!”

Like the upper floor of any other inn, this top level was a place no one could enter without money.

Though the county lay some distance from the provincial capital, it was close to Henan, and to the west were Mount Longzhong and Xiangyang, home of the Je Gal Clan. Since many wealthy people who disliked crowded places came here, most of those seated on the top floor belonged to famous clans or merchant guilds.

Flustered, Mo Yong-woo said, “I appreciate the kindness, but we truly need proper rest right now. I ask for your understanding.”

The unease in his voice showed plainly, but his tone still carried a quiet firmness. Paired with his naturally gentle voice, it had the power to make people step back of their own accord.

At once, embarrassment spread across the faces of the noisy crowd.

“Ahem! W-well, if people who ought to be in the Alliance came all the way here, then you must have your own business to attend to.”

“We may have gotten a little too excited, eh?”

“You’re such a famous figure that I forgot myself and acted rudely. Please forgive me.”

Mo Yong-woo smiled.

“Not at all. If anything, I’m the one who feels sorry. I’m only grateful that you’re being so understanding.”

With awkward smiles, the people returned to their own tables.

Yeon Hojeong let out a low whistle.

He really is different.

Mo Yong-woo knew how to make people withdraw on their own without getting angry or speaking forcefully.

It was a human charm Yeon Hojeong did not possess. The nature that had stayed hidden while he lived under suppression in Zhejiang had awakened alongside his determination to carve out his own future, and it was developing into a kind of charisma that drew people in.

Yeon Hojeong could never do that. Part of it was his nature, and part of it was that he had spent his entire life fighting. Quick, direct words and actions had become second nature to him.

I really did judge him well.

A man who could handle a crowd exactly as he pleased.

That was an inborn talent even more precious than martial arts. Whether he became the Martial Alliance Leader or the head of the Mo Yong Clan, Mo Yong-woo would make an excellent leader.

“Ah! Brother!”

Gangryang waved.

No matter how quickly he recovered, his wounds could not possibly be fully healed yet. Yeon Hojeong could only think again what a sturdy bastard he was.

Waving back, Yeon Hojeong walked toward the group.

“Gah!”

“...The Green Mountain Tiger Commander?”

“It’s the Commander of the Evil-Smiting Corps!”

“That axe is monstrous.”

People whispered among themselves as they stared at Yeon Hojeong.

Their reaction was entirely different from how they had treated Mo Yong-woo. Alongside admiration, there was a faint undertone of fear in their eyes.

Naturally so. He was a hardened commander who had survived ten thousand battles; the atmosphere around him was different from the outset. More than that, whenever Yeon Hojeong was out in the martial world, he kept himself honed to react to an ambush at any moment, and a blade-like presence naturally radiated from him.

Yeon Hojeong sat down.

THUD!

When he set Mad Dragon upright beside him, the entire floor seemed to shake from the vicious sound.

With a calm face, Mo Yong-woo said, “Did you return safely, Commander Yeon?”

There were people watching. In case rumors spread, he had addressed him by title.

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

“They say she’s staying in Shanggao County, Jiangxi Province. We should rest well here tonight, then start moving faster from tomorrow on.”

“Hm. Was there anything unusual?”

“Nothing unusual on a personal level. But it seems the medical associations are giving her quite a headache.”

“The medical associations?”

Yeon Hojeong briefly relayed the information he had heard from the branch chief.

Mo Yong-woo frowned.

“Men whose trade is healing the human body behaving with such petty narrowness.”

“Exactly.”

Mookbi, who was eating wheat noodles, tossed out a casual remark.

“This is going to turn into a huge mess.”

“Hm? What do you mean, Vice Commander Mook?”

Mookbi pointed at Yeon Hojeong with her chopsticks.

“He acts like he doesn’t care about anybody else’s problems, but he’s actually the kind of person who can’t stand this sort of thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he smashed the Jiangxi medical associations to pieces.”

Yeon Hojeong snorted.

“Our mission is to escort the Divine Maiden of the Western Regions safely to the Alliance. I’ve got no interest in anything else.”

“Really?”

“If they touch us, that’ll be a different story.”

Mookbi smirked.

“You know it too, don’t you? That you’re the kind of person who ends up in a fight everywhere you go.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let’s find out this time.”

“You sound like you want a fight to break out.”

“As if.”

Mookbi stuck out her tongue.

Yeon Hojeong said coolly, “You’ve got bits of noodle stuck on your tongue.”

“Eek!”

Face turning red, Mookbi whipped back around and resumed eating her noodles. Even so, she was eating with obvious relish, so she must have been very hungry.

Gangryang asked, “Still, whatever this association is, it’s a bunch of powerless physicians, isn’t it? If they hear it concerns the Martial Alliance, won’t they immediately back off?”

Mo Yong-woo shook his head.

“It is not that simple.”

“Huh?”

“If it were a matter that could be solved by force, they would never have dared act like this in the first place. And we are of the Orthodox Path. If they had openly struck first, that would be different, but without clear evidence, it is difficult to demand they stop out of nowhere.”

Gangryang scratched his head.

“To be honest, I ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) don’t really understand why everyone’s making this so complicated.”

“That is because—”

“Whatever the political complications may be, isn’t the highest value of the Orthodox Path chivalry? Patients are dying because of those bastards. Politics or no politics, someone ought to slap them across the face first.”

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes widened.

“The highest value of the Orthodox Path...”

Gangryang shook his head.

“If something’s wrong, you set it right. Isn’t that what people of the Orthodox Path are always saying? Hell, if I heard this, I’d be furious enough to go find them immediately myself.”

“Ah.”

Mo Yong-woo nodded.

“Swordsman Gang is right. It seems I had been tainted by some very bad habits.”

“Huh?”

“There are sick people suffering, and that should have been the first thing I thought of. All those political considerations could have waited until after the matter had already exploded.”

Mo Yong-woo smiled.

“Swordsman Gang, thanks to you, I’ve been made to reflect on myself. Thank you.”

“...Am I really allowed to be thanked for something like that?”

Suddenly embarrassed, Gangryang buried his face in his bowl of noodles too.

Yeon Hojeong smirked.

“Sometimes you need to look at the world simply. Gangryang has a point.”

Mo Yong-woo sighed.

“Moments like this make me think I still have a long way to go.”

“It’s less that you’ve got far to go and more that you’re cautious. I said we can’t move recklessly, but if those people were actually standing right in front of you, you probably wouldn’t have endured it either.”

“Ha ha.”

“But like I said, our mission is to escort the Divine Maiden of the Western Regions. Forget the values of the Orthodox Path and everything else. Let’s treat the mission as our highest priority.”

“Commander Yeon is correct.”

“We’ve talked enough pointlessly. Let’s eat first.”

Yeon Hojeong and Mo Yong-woo promptly bent over their bowls of noodles too.

Stir-fried vegetables, braised pork, and every kind of dish filled the table. After living on jerky and hard rations for so long, they tore into real food with all the appetite of starving people.

Gangryang especially ate an extraordinary amount. Naturally enough—if an injured body was going to heal, it needed nourishment.

After stuffing themselves, the group each went to their own quarters to rest.

Past midnight.

Freshly washed, Yeon Hojeong came out into the rear courtyard and looked up at the sky.

“The moonlight’s nice.”

Perhaps because of the cold, no one else was out in the courtyard.

Even now, noisy sounds were still spilling out from the inn. Though it was late, plenty of people were apparently still enjoying their drinks.

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

It smells like people.

Day after day, it had been missions, or training, or else keeping watch on Mo Yonggun.

Even a body of steel could not help but grow tired. Of course, Yeon Hojeong’s body and mind were healthy, but every now and then he needed this sort of breathing room.

He stared quietly up at the sky, then picked up Mad Dragon.

“To hell with breathing room. Better to swing the axe one more time.”

WOOOOONG.

Mad Dragon let out a lazy hum.

Maybe I should train forms for the first time in a while.

The space was too cramped to train properly while pouring in Inner Qi with full commitment. Of course, his control over True Qi was so refined that he could have avoided damaging anything around him, but he had no desire to make a racket.

Blunt sword, huh.

Yeoguk came to mind.

Yeoguk had said that, because of training in the blunt sword, sword speed had slowed slightly. It carried the risk of diminishing practical combat value, but it was also proof of complete immersion in blunt-sword training.

Maybe I should train in the blunt sword myself for the first time in a while.

A blunt sword was, literally, a slow sword.

At first glance, it might seem easy—how hard could it be to swing a sword slowly? But to refine the blunt sword to the level of attainment required terrifying effort and painstaking dedication.

There was no better training for mastering precision, sword intent, and change at will. Once the blunt sword reached a high realm, one sword could suppress ten thousand transformations.

He had understood that martial principle long ago, but a martial art one had truly mastered could still hand over a new realization at the most unexpected moment.

Gripping Mad Dragon in both hands, Yeon Hojeong swung it.

...

Mad Dragon moved slowly.

Too slowly. On top of that, Mad Dragon weighed over eighty geun. Whether in sheer physical strength or Inner Qi, moving it this slowly required far more power than swinging it fast.

How much time passed like that?

Drip. Drip.

Yeon Hojeong’s body was soaked in sweat.

Even the winter east wind could not cool him. Then again, merely swinging an eighty-geun heavy weapon was already a divine feat. To move it this slowly, and at a constant rhythm, was difficult even for someone born with god-given strength.

This is better than I expected.

Yeon Hojeong shouted in joy inside his own head.

The slower the speed, the more the strain on the muscles and joints rises exponentially. I knew that, but the effect is far better than I expected.

Yeon Hojeong’s martial art was built around one-hit kill. It focused on charging in and killing the enemy in a single strike, so his physical strength likewise excelled at explosive force.

But training in the blunt sword—at a speed so slow it was barely moving—drained his strength in an instant.

Why didn’t I do this training earlier?

The answer was obvious. He had never needed blunt-sword training before.

But that was no longer true. Strength trained to its limit was now trying to advance to the next stage through blunt-sword training.

Excellent.

His legs trembled from the terrible pain, but a smile of ecstasy spread across Yeon Hojeong’s face.

With this, my body can grow even stronger.

For a person who lived by training, what could be more welcome than a new stimulus?

After more than half a shichen of blunt-sword training, Yeon Hojeong finally collapsed to the ground, breathing hard.

“Hah! Hah! Whew, I could get addicted to this.”

After a dozen or so breaths, even his ragged breathing settled. His basic stamina was so overwhelming that his breath recovered quickly too.

“I’ll do it again tomorrow.”

Yeon Hojeong rose and slung Mad Dragon over his shoulder.

Then he looked toward a large tree beside the inn.

“Enjoy the show? Why don’t you come out now?”

SHHK.

As though he had been waiting for those words, the man who revealed himself appeared to be in his fifties.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes turned cold.

“Who are you?”

The older man gave a short bow.

“I pay my respects to the Green Mountain Tiger Commander of the Martial Alliance, Commander of the Evil-Smiting Corps.”

“I asked who you are.”

“I am Ga Yeokso, branch chief of the Hubei branch of the Medical God Association.”

Yeon Hojeong let out a soft, involuntary laugh.

Mookbi, you were right. I guess this really is my fate.