Black and White Martial Emperor

A month later.

“Whew.”

A faint sigh left his lips, white breath mingling thickly with it.

“It really is different.”

Tang Gwan frowned.

“A new year... I didn’t feel anything in particular, but now that the year has turned, it does feel as though the weather has grown colder.”

He was a Transcendent Peak master. The qi of his entire body had long since entered a state of unhindered flow, and he had already reached the level untouched by heat and cold. But on the other hand, the greater the quality and quantity of one’s Inner Qi, the keener the senses became.

In truth, if one went purely by sensation, the cold now was no different from the cold a month ago. Even so, Tang Gwan felt it.

That it somehow seemed colder.

Perhaps that was not because of the weather, but because of his own heart.

My heart.

Tang Gwan looked up at the sky, where snowflakes fell one by one, then let out a dry chuckle.

“How absurd.”

How amusing, really. Who would ever have imagined that the master of the Tang Clan of Sichuan would sink into such petty sentiment?

Tang Gwan shook his head.

I really do need to think this through.

Once he returned to the Tang Clan, Mo Yonggun would begin his attacks at any time.

It was not that he feared that. He simply knew better than anyone that Mo Yonggun’s scheming mind was no ordinary thing, and that was why he had deliberately put off returning.

But now, it seemed the time had come.

What difference does it make whether I stay in the Martial Alliance or not? I entered the Alliance, obtained a Service Lord position, and though things got a bit mangled along the way, I still made my presence felt. That’s more than enough to call it worthwhile.

At the beginning, he had not even intended to do that much. Martial Alliance or no Martial Alliance, the Tang Clan was the master of Sichuan. Why should he care in the slightest about the affairs of the rest of the Central Plains?

And yet he had still come to the Martial Alliance, because somewhere inside him there had been a desire to change.

This is why a man shouldn’t start doing things he never used to do.

Tang Gwan brushed off his shoulders.

As the snow piled there fell away bit by bit, the look in his eyes also returned to what it had always been—vicious, cold, and utterly ruthless.

I am the king of Sichuan. No one under heaven can escape the fear and influence my clan exerts. That means my clan is a power worthy of contending for the title of the greatest under heaven. That is enough.

Confirming that alone was enough. That was what he decided.

Though I wouldn’t mind watching just who becomes Martial Alliance Leader.

Hooooo.

The breath he let out silently melted the snowflakes falling into it.

“I suppose it’s about time I packed.”

With his hands behind his back, Tang Gwan turned away.

Then—

“...”

His steps stopped.

His eyes, which had just regained that uniquely cold and vicious look of the Tang Clan Lord, trembled ever so slightly.

Crunch. Crunch.

A single presence was approaching, stepping through the piled snow.

The footsteps were light, almost brisk. Yet there was also a calmness to them so pronounced that one could tell at once the person making them was not someone easily shaken.

Stop.

The approaching figure halted as well.

Soft. Soft. Soft.

The silence between them was so heavy that the sound of snow settling on the ground seemed as loud as hail striking stone.

How much time passed like that?

“You’re leaving?”

Tang Gwan flinched before he could stop himself.

And yet he could not bring himself to care that the other person had surely noticed that reaction.

“It looks like you might leave this very moment.”

It was a calm voice. Calm to the utmost.

Tang Gwan turned around.

His daughter stood there.

The once-in-a-generation genius who had been called the Dark-Heaven Divine Maiden, whose name had resounded as the foremost of the younger generation in the Tang Clan.

Tang Gwan looked at Tang Sang-a in silence.

Tang Sang-a spoke again.

“If you leave all alone, without even an attendant, won’t you be bored?”

“I am the Tang Clan Lord.”

“I know.”

“...”

“If you’re going to leave, then why not wait until the weather softens a little? Snow’s fallen everywhere. The road will be a rather hard one.”

Tang Gwan very nearly opened his mouth.

Very nearly snapped that it was none of her concern, very nearly barked out what it was she really wanted to say.

But he could not do it.

And why he could not, he himself did not know.

Tang Sang-a, who had been quietly watching him, suddenly looked around.

“It’s gotten quite cold.”

“...”

“You’ve probably finished all the liquor. Do you have any tea leaves left?”

Tang Gwan’s eyes shook.

He had noticed it.

Her voice, composed to the point of severity, was trembling ever so faintly.

What was there to say, standing here in front of one’s child?

“...I have some fine tea leaves.”

A smile spread across Tang Sang-a’s face.

“May I have a cup?”

“...”

Tang Gwan stayed silent for a long moment, then turned and started walking toward his quarters.

“I don’t know how to brew tea. If you want any, then brew it yourself.”

He had gone some distance before he added, in a small voice,

“Two cups.”

*****

Mo Yonggun brightened and rose to his feet.

“You’ve come.”

“Yes, Brother.”

Mo Yong-woo’s complexion was somewhat pale. There was a worn, haggard look about him that stood out immediately.

But compared to ten days ago, when he had entered the Alliance, he looked unmistakably better. Then again, at the time, everyone except Gi Uhui had been exhausted to the limit.

“You truly need no more treatment?”

“This is enough. I can manage the rest myself.”

“Good. Then that is a relief.”

Mo Yonggun helped Mo Yong-woo into a chair.

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes, Brother. I strengthened myself with the nourishing food they gave me at the medical office.”

“Well done. No matter how great a master of martial arts a man may be, he is still human in the end. When you are injured, the best thing to do is listen to the physician.”

A ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) moment later, Mo Yonggun brought over some tea.

“Have a cup. It will soothe your weary body and mind.”

“Thank you.”

After tasting it, Mo Yong-woo could tell at once that real care had gone into the tea. Even with the same leaves, steeped in the same order, the taste and fragrance changed depending on whether care had gone into it.

Mo Yonggun let out a sigh.

“You’ve suffered a great deal.”

“It was nothing.”

“I never imagined you would go through this much. With that Yeon Hojeong bastard there, I sent you off at ease, never thinking all sorts of worthless trash would throw themselves into the mix.”

Open anger rose in Mo Yonggun’s eyes.

He knew very well who had instigated the attack on Mo Yong-woo and the rest of the group.

Ignorant little vermin.

Mo Yonggun made a vow.

He would tear the Medical God Association out by the roots and show the entire world the majesty of the Martial Alliance.

And he would make it known just how dangerous it was to lay a hand on the bloodline of the Mo Yong Clan.

“I was just about to start breaking the physicians in Henan apart—”

“Brother.”

“Mm?”

Smiling, Mo Yong-woo said,

“As for them, it can end here.”

Mo Yonggun frowned.

“What do you mean, it ends here? They dared attack an escort force dispatched by the Martial Alliance. This is not something we can simply overlook.”

“Of course. But there is something more important than that, is there not?”

“...?”

“The Martial Alliance Leader.”

“...!”

Mo Yonggun’s face froze in shock.

Mo Yong-woo shook his head.

“If I had died, that would be one thing. No—even if I had died, you still should not concern yourself with them, Brother.”

“...”

“The new year has begun. Snow will probably keep falling heavily until next month. But once the snowfall weakens and this raging cold begins to settle, then the real war begins.”

“...War.”

“That’s right.”

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes shone like starlight.

“You must climb to the summit.”

In that instant, Mo Yonggun felt gooseflesh run up the backs of his hands and spread across his entire body.

A single word from his younger brother’s mouth.

The summit.

The moment that word pierced his ears, all the anger he had piled up until now seemed to evaporate, and a rosy future unfolded before his eyes like a vision.

“Leave them to the strategist. He’ll handle them well enough. From now on, Brother, you need to start tightening the reins little by little, so that you can ascend to the seat of the Martial Alliance Leader.”

“Mm.”

“Unless something extraordinary happens, the Martial Alliance Leader chosen this time will rule the Martial Alliance for the next decade or more. Rule is perhaps too strong a word—even the Martial Alliance Leader cannot do absolutely anything he wishes—but there is no disputing that he is the highest authority in the Orthodox Path.”

“Yes. That’s true.”

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes flashed.

“If you let this opportunity slip, you will have to wait at least fifteen more years. If only to avoid wasting that much time, you must begin preparing now, Brother.”

Mo Yonggun nodded.

“Yes. You’re right.”

He had already been making various preparations. It was only that his younger brother had been badly injured, and the rage of it had left him seething.

But now that Mo Yong-woo himself had spoken first like this, some of that burden eased from Mo Yonggun’s shoulders.

“Will you not be disappointed?”

“In what sense?”

“That this elder brother of yours cannot properly avenge you.”

Mo Yong-woo smiled.

“My revenge belongs to me alone. I’m broad enough to bear that much, Brother.”

“Hahaha.”

“Stand at the pinnacle of the world. That comes first.”

“Yes. That comes first. Thank you for understanding me.”

“It’s nothing.”

The two of them looked out the window.

The falling snow made no sound, but somehow seemed heavier than it had half an hour ago.

“A new year.”

*****

“Hoooo.”

A thick mass of white breath billowed out as if he had just exhaled a lungful of smoke.

“You’ve finished circulating your power?”

“Yes, Father.”

Yeon Wi clicked his tongue as he looked at Yeon Hojeong rising from his seat.

“Untouched by heat and cold or not, what sense does it make for a boy whose body still isn’t fully sound to sit outside in the snow and circulate power?”

He brushed the snow gathered on Yeon Hojeong’s shoulders away.

Yeon Hojeong gave a bitter smile.

“How’s Jipyeong?”

“He’s still asleep. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt as badly as you or Bia, but it seems he suffered his own sort of shock.”

“He probably did. His strikes were decisive, but there was a trace of hesitation in them. He saw a lot of blood. The wounds on his heart are probably far worse than the ones on his body.”

“Yes.”

Yeon Wi looked up at the sky.

“That, too, is how one grows.”

He said it like that, but when he thought back to ten days ago, his heart still dropped even now.

His children had returned covered in blood. Not just Yeon Hojeong—Yeon Jipyeong too had come back to the Alliance exhausted beyond measure.

Watching his children return after hacking their way through one chaotic battle after another without his knowing, Yeon Wi had been consumed by a kind of helpless self-reproach he could not put into words.

In truth, for a martial artist of the jianghu, killing enemies and seeing blood was a kind of fate.

Even so, one’s children were different. His mind understood it, but the heart of a parent still wished they could live without such a life.

Of course, both his sons had already grown into splendid martial artists.

Yeon Wi, still gazing at the sky, slapped Yeon Hojeong on the back.

“You truly are hard as iron. Bia is still receiving treatment.”

“Isn’t it just that she’s the weak one?”

“You brat.”

“Heh.”

Yeon Wi watched his son grin, then asked, a little more carefully,

“You truly do not need to see a physician?”

“Of course not. At this rate, I’ll be pretty much healed in about five days.”

“Mm. If you say so.”

“And besides, shouldn’t we start preparing too?”

“Preparing?”

“Yes. The new year has passed.”

Yeon Wi’s face stiffened.

“...The Martial Alliance Leader.”

“That’s right. And besides the election, there are more things we need to pay attention to.”

“You mean the Three Fanatic Creeds?”

“Yes.”

Yeon Hojeong brushed the snow from the platform and sat down.

A fierce light shone from his eyes.

“Now, everyone who needs to be gathered has been gathered.”

Gi Uhui, the illegitimate child of the Divine Flame Cult Leader, had entered the Alliance.

They had learned that an organization called the Medical God Association existed in the world, and that it had deep-rooted ties of collusion with the authorities.

They had assessed the strength of Ink Dragon Manor. They had learned that the Three Fanatic Creeds were already making their moves beneath the surface to swallow the Central Plains. And the structure of the Martial Alliance itself had now completely settled into place.

And this year, the election would be held to choose the first Martial Alliance Leader in the history of the Alliance.

More than that, Yeon Hojeong could feel it instinctively—

that all of those ties and all of those events were drawing together into one.

“This year is going to be a very difficult one.”