Black and White Martial Emperor

“Whew.”

The breath he let out lightly carried a stifling heat.

He had not forced the alcohol out with Inner Qi. On top of that, he had drunk five full bottles of fire liquor, liquor said to be harsh. There was no way he could avoid getting drunk.

At the very least, considering his usual tolerance, it would have been normal for him to have already passed out cold.

“An awkward amount.”

Mo Yonggun looked out the window.

Last night, the snowstorm had raged so fiercely. Yet tonight, as if that had been a lie, the sky was clear. Not only the moonlight, but countless stars as well, each flaunted its own presence.

A faint smile settled over Mo Yonggun’s face.

“The weather is fine. Perhaps winter is finally starting to withdraw.”

Yesterday’s heavy snowfall was probably the last great snow of the season. Since they were in the mountains, the cold would be unavoidable for some time yet, but at least there would be no more snow like before.

“Spring is coming... And spring used to lift my spirits so much.”

Mo Yonggun’s smile slowly turned bitter.

“I never knew there would be such a difference between being soaked in expectation for the future and being buried deep in reality myself.”

He had expected it. No, having risen to the Clan Lord’s seat by eliminating his own blood kin in the political struggle within his house, he had foreseen a situation like this long ago.

What he had not foreseen was the existence known as Yeon Hojeong.

No. Not only him.

Yeon Hojeong was a great and troublesome enemy. He was an existence who transcended age, faction, experience, and all the rest.

Mo Yonggun admitted it honestly. Yeon Hojeong was the rival of his lifetime. Even if he someday removed Yeon Hojeong, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) he was certain no political enemy greater than him would ever appear.

But the problem was not Yeon Hojeong alone.

Most of the Service Lords, starting with Yeon Wi, are extraordinary.

Things he had overlooked because he had been fighting Yeon Hojeong so fiercely.

They were the abilities of the giants who had gained the same position, the same office as Service Lords.

Among them were those who declared neutrality and did not step forward, those who openly revealed their greed, and those like Yeon Wi and Je Gal Munho, who focused on peace and stability.

Not one of them was easy. The representative example was Tang Gwan. Until Tang Gwan betrayed him, Mo Yonggun had believed he could handle him until the day he died.

That was arrogance.

Tang Gwan had never liked him much to begin with. Nor had he ever trusted him completely.

From the start, he must have been watching for any chance to turn his back. Yeon Hojeong’s persuasion had only been the signal flare that brought that opportunity to the surface. Tang Gwan had always been someone who could split away at any time.

To look at such a man and feel certain he could handle him to the end—had that not been truly arrogant?

Was I always such a narrow-sighted man?

Mo Yonggun closed his eyes.

It must have begun then.

After he finished his deal with Yangcheon and returned to the Martial Alliance.

For the sake of the Martial Alliance Leader election, he had tried to force Venerable Gonggong out.

To be precise, it had not been expulsion but a covert scheme meant to damage his reputation. But in the end, he had intended to make Venerable Gonggong unable to run in the Martial Alliance Leader election, so it would not be wrong to call it expulsion.

But that scheme failed before it even properly began.

Even thinking about it now makes my face burn.

Back then, and again in his recent conversation with Yeon Hojeong.

He had once again tasted failure.

He had been pushed back in political struggles before, but never had he felt so helpless himself.

If he had simply lacked ability, he would not even have felt wronged. Mo Yonggun knew his own strengths and weaknesses precisely, and he had prided himself on facing them with a colder eye than anyone else.

Even so, why had he kept showing such an ugly side? Why did he realize he had made a mistake only after committing it?

At least until last year, I was not like this.

...

Mo Yonggun opened his eyes.

As he looked at the night sky full of starlight, his gaze was stained with a murkier darkness than ever before.

I swept away the Ming Clan. I came to contend with the Namgung Clan for the foremost seat among the Six Great Clans. I entered the Martial Alliance and formed my own faction. After that, I even joined hands with Yangcheon.

So much had happened. And in the process, he had tasted quite a few failures, yet he had clawed and scrambled his way up to his current position.

I was drunk. As I climbed, step by step, toward the seat I had only dreamed of, I failed to look at the situation coldly.

Mo Yonggun suddenly thought of Yeon Hojeong.

He had never seen anyone as gifted as Yeon Hojeong. But when he assessed it coldly, there was no great difference between himself and Yeon Hojeong.

And yet Yeon Hojeong did not make the same mistakes he did. He failed and was struck from behind too, but he always persisted and aimed for the next move.

Was it a difference in patience? Or a difference in youth?

If not that, did it truly mean there was that much of a gap between himself and Yeon Hojeong?

“I am the lacking one.”

Mo Yonggun sighed.

“To grow excited because the future I dreamed of came within reach and ruin my own work. Even Mo Yonggun of all people has come to this.”

By contrast, Yeon Hojeong was not trying to sit at the summit.

Even this fierce political struggle was no more than one step in the process to him. Mo Yonggun did not know what dream Yeon Hojeong desired, but at the very least, he knew it was not to seize the greatest power in the martial world.

In other words, Yeon Hojeong had no need to be patient the way he did. That difference was what had created the gap between them.

Mo Yonggun, letting out a sigh from the bitter feeling, suddenly shook his head at the thought that occurred to him.

“No. I almost made another mistake.”

Mo Yonggun smiled.

“Yeon Hojeong, that bastard—I am not trying to defeat him as my goal, am I? Even if he is greater than I am, all I need do is achieve my own goal. Why do I keep concerning myself with him?”

Of course he had to concern himself with him. Yeon Hojeong was the greatest obstacle on the road to his dream, so of course he could not help but pay attention.

But merely paying attention to him and being conscious of him were different matters.

Mo Yonggun’s eyes sparkled like starlight.

“Yes. Now I finally understand what I did wrong.”

Coming to this place? Forming his own faction? Joining hands with Yangcheon?

Yes. At the end of such a process stood the man he was now. Because of it, Mo Yonggun could exist as one of the twelve Service Lords of the Martial Alliance and a man aiming to become the next Martial Alliance Leader.

But the reason his vision had narrowed and his heart had grown impatient lay elsewhere.

“I became too used to fighting. I had not lived my life to win in this chaos, yet instead of the greatest seat under heaven, I tried to survive alone beneath that seat, in a rotten pond.”

Mo Yonggun burst into a hearty laugh.

“Ha ha ha. At this rate, I am no different from the countless petty men who pursued power and went to ruin.”

He had once said something like this to Tang Gwan.

That he was different. That he would not follow in the footsteps of fools who chased power only to be devoured by the monster called power. That he would become someone who, until the moment he died, knew how to command power like an obedient dog.

But before he knew it, he too had been bewitched by power’s magic and had been looking only at what lay right before his nose.

“I must change.”

Emptying the cup he had refilled, Mo Yonggun murmured.

“I must rule power. I must not be bewitched by it.”

Mo Yonggun pushed the empty cup to one side.

“Would you not agree?”

Rrrk.

The door opened, and Mo Yong-woo appeared.

“You knew I was here?”

“Of course.”

“It was late, so I came carefully in case you were asleep, but I sensed someone’s presence.”

“Ha ha. It is not even midnight yet. I could hardly bring the day to a close already.”

“You have drunk too much.”

“There should be times like this, should there not? Though, yes, even by my standards, I did drink quite a lot.”

Chiiiiik!

A powerful scent of liquor rose from Mo Yonggun’s body. He had blown away the alcohol all at once with the True Qi of Thunderclap Art.

With eyes that had become visibly clearer, Mo Yonggun looked at Mo Yong-woo.

“Well then. It is not midnight, but it is late. What brings you here at this hour?”

A clear, deep gaze watching his younger brother.

Mo Yong-woo silently looked back at his elder brother, then gestured toward a chair.

“May I sit?”

“Of course. Ha ha, why ask such a thing between us? Would you like a drink?”

“Then I will accept one cup.”

“Oh my. What serious subject have you brought, for you to be so different from usual? I am already growing afraid.”

Mo Yonggun filled Mo Yong-woo’s cup.

Mo Yong-woo emptied it in one clean swallow, then his eyes gleamed.

“Brother.”

“Yes.”

“...”

“It seems difficult to say. It is all right. I am ready to accept whatever it may be. Speak freely.”

Mo Yong-woo, who had been studying his brother’s face, let out a slight sigh.

“This may sound rather insolent, but...”

“...?”

“About this Martial Alliance Leader election. Do you, perhaps, have any intention of giving it up?”

It was not an insolent thing to say, but it was certainly a startling one.

Mo Yonggun’s eyes changed instantly.

“Why do you say that?”

“I...”

Mo Yong-woo’s lips moved for a moment before he lowered his head.

“I do not know either.”

In truth, he had wanted to say this for some time. But the Mo Yonggun he knew was a man who did not know how to give up, and he also knew the words would never reach him, so all he had been able to say instead was for him to soar higher.

But now he had no choice but to confess what was in his heart. Watching this entire series of events, Mo Yong-woo had been unable to suppress the frustration in his chest either.

You have broken down too much.

Mo Yong-woo hardened his heart.

That had been true from the moment he joined hands with Yeon Hojeong, and it remained true even now. In the meantime, Mo Yonggun had committed grave wrongs, and Mo Yong-woo had even resolved that, at the decisive moment, he himself would step forward and drop him into ruin.

But the recent Mo Yonggun was different from before.

Was it because of the affection between blood kin? Mo Yong-woo would rather Mo Yonggun step back here. He wanted him to withdraw quietly, return to the Mo Yong Clan, and spend his final years there.

He wanted that even knowing that, to Mo Yonggun, it would be the same as a death sentence. He had intended to make him step down from the position of Clan Lord of the Mo Yong Clan anyway, but even so, this was not it.

He thought that Mo Yonggun’s end, even if it was not glorious, should at least not be wretched.

At least in that feeling, he was the same now as he had been before.

This is stifling.

Perhaps saying this to Mo Yonggun was itself something that might burden Yeon Hojeong.

But it was something he had wanted to say at least once. He also felt fortunate that he could say it today, if nothing else.

Even though I know you will not do it in the end, I still force myself to say this.

Mo Yong-woo smiled bitterly and rose.

“I apologize. It seems I said something unnecessary. Please think of it only as the needless worry of a younger brother who worries too much...”

“No.”

“...Pardon?”

“Your worry is by no means needless. I sincerely think so.”

“Brother?”

Unexpectedly, Mo Yonggun was smiling.

“Yes. As it happens, I was drinking and looking back on myself. And I realized that the man I am now is not the same as before. On such a day, my younger brother even comes to worry about his elder brother, so apart from the bitterness, it warms my heart.”

“...”

“In the end, blood kin truly are the only ones one can trust.”

Mo Yong-woo closed his eyes.

Mo Yonggun’s words—that blood kin were the only ones one could trust—stabbed deep into his chest again and again.

“And so.”

“...?”

“I should summon one more of my blood kin.”

“...Pardon?”

Mo Yonggun’s eyes changed once again.

In that instant, Mo Yong-woo felt a chill run through his chest. With his eyes changed like that, Mo Yonggun’s expression looked like that of a demon who had comprehended the Way.

“There is one thing I have not yet told you.”

“What is it?”

“I joined hands with Yangcheon, and I sent Yeonhwa there.”

“...!!”

“And Yeonhwa will soon come to the Martial Alliance.”

“B-Brother!!”

Mo Yonggun smiled.

It was a savage smile, one that made chills crawl over anyone who saw it.

“Thanks to you, I have gained a great realization. Yes, what does it matter when I obtain the Martial Alliance Leader’s seat? In the end, so long as it falls into my hands someday, that is enough. Would you not agree?”