Black and White Martial Emperor

Rumble! Rrrrumble!

The Night Citadel shook violently.

All across the fortress, the scattered soldiers of the Demon-Sweeping Corps were smashing weapon racks, pillars, and anything else they could find. None of them could compare to Mo Yong-woo individually, but together they laid waste to the interior. In the blink of an eye, a fifth of the buildings within the citadel had collapsed.

Yayul Jeok had to move quickly.

He had to stop their destruction at once. More importantly, he had to enter the Night Governance Labyrinth where the Volcanic Smoke Beacon was hidden, activate its ignition mechanism, and kill every high-ranking official in Guangdong.

Yet he could not move easily.

‘......!’

Yayul Jeok’s gaze settled on Mo Yong-woo.

Fwoooosh.

Standing with the flames at his back, the swordsman leveled his greatsword at him. He looked like a divine blade honed to perfection.

‘This bastard.’

Yayul Jeok felt his fists clench.

‘He’s strong.’

It was the dark hour before dawn.

Even with the inferno blazing behind him, Mo Yong-woo’s icy gaze remained vividly clear. His eyes seemed so steadfast that not even heaven and earth turning upside down could shake them.

The invisible sword energy radiating from him seemed capable of shearing through steel, yet his presence was heavy and still. From his eyes to his stance, not a single part of him moved.

‘This isn’t a matter of realm. This man...’

He would never fail.

He was different from that monster, Yeon Hojeong. Beneath Yeon Hojeong’s fierce, unconventional presence lay a chillingly cold and detached gaze. Mo Yong-woo, by contrast, was as tranquil as the surface of a windless lake, yet concealed within him was a pressure comparable to an erupting volcano.

Whatever the case, he was anything but ordinary. He possessed the unmistakable air of a true powerhouse—one who could achieve results beyond the limits of his own ability.

‘He may be even more dangerous than that Shaolin monk.’

The nameless monk had demonstrated the greatness of Shaolin martial arts with his overwhelmingly powerful palm techniques.

In terms of raw might and majestic qi waves, the monk appeared one step above Mo Yong-woo.

Even so, Yayul Jeok did not turn his attention toward him. If the Shaolin monk was a tiger that had yet to finish growing, then Mo Yong-woo was a wolf larger than any tiger—and with wings upon its back.

“So it was true.”

A chill ran down Yayul Jeok’s spine at Mo Yong-woo’s cold voice.

“I heard you were a hound of the Perverse Lust Cult and, at the same time, the current Yin God revered throughout the assassin world of the Central Plains. I wondered whether it was true, but after sensing that unnatural presence of yours, I believe it.”

“......”

“Do not even think about running.”

The corner of Yayul Jeok’s mouth lifted.

“You dare spout such nonsense with such meager skill.”

Mo Yong-woo’s presence was indeed impressive.

But a fundamental gap in strength was difficult to overcome. Yayul Jeok had neither recovered his original power nor fully healed his internal and external injuries, yet he was still the Yin God and an elite master of the Perverse Lust Cult.

He had every right to display this much confidence.

Mo Yong-woo stared at him in silence, then turned his eyes toward the fallen soldiers.

‘.......’

His gaze did not change.

Even as he looked upon his dead subordinates, his eyes remained firm and clear. They seemed no different from when he had been looking at Yayul Jeok.

But Yayul Jeok’s keen senses detected what lay beneath.

A colossal flame was raging inside Mo Yong-woo’s chest. He was suppressing that terrible, blazing fury with cold reason and an absolute sense of purpose.

Rustle.

Yayul Jeok slowly lifted a foot.

A deep-blue light instantly gathered at the tip of Mo Yong-woo’s sword.

Boom!

Sword energy shot out like lightning and exploded an inch in front of Yayul Jeok’s left foot. Had he not withdrawn it, the attack would have blown the foot clean off.

Mo Yong-woo was still looking at his fallen men.

Yet even then, his sword power had reacted instantly. It showed that his practical combat skill, experience, and instincts were every bit as exceptional as his talent with the sword.

Yayul Jeok spoke.

“Do you intend to maintain this standoff?”

Mo Yong-woo did not answer.

There was a reason Yayul Jeok called it a standoff. His position and those of Mo Yong-woo and Beomo were so delicately balanced that the instant any one of them moved, an attack would follow.

Yayul Jeok would naturally be the one attacked. Yet even in his present condition, his presence was not overwhelmed in the slightest by the combined pressure of the other two.

In other words, whoever moved first would inevitably draw blood. The terrain, their clashing auras, and the invisible Killing Intent grinding against one another all proved it.

Yayul Jeok continued.

“Then remain like that if you wish. Time is on our side. Once the sun rises and those flames are extinguished, you will be thoroughly crushed beneath the blades of nine hundred men who know the Night Citadel better than anyone alive.”

The corner of Beomo’s eye twitched faintly.

It was an obvious provocation.

Yet it did not sound like an empty bluff.

“Commander Mo.”

Mo Yong-woo did not respond to Beomo either.

Yayul Jeok spoke again.

“I will be honest. I have no intention of showing weakness, but I am pressed for time as well. Victory will undoubtedly be ours if enough time passes, but that is hardly the ideal outcome.”

“......”

“I will let you leave alive. Take your men and withdraw from this place now. I swear to you not as a follower of the Perverse Lust Cult, but as the Yin God. I will not touch you while you retreat.”

Beomo roared.

“Do not speak such nonsense! A hound of foreign powers seeking to plunge the Central Plains into the fires of war dares lecture us with honeyed lies?”

He might have cast aside his arrogance, but his characteristic fiery temper remained unchanged. Beomo’s fierce rebuke became another Lion’s Roar, shaking Yayul Jeok from within.

Yayul Jeok did not let it show. He was reacting strangely strongly to the Shaolin monk’s Lion’s Roar, but now was not the time to appear weak.

“Decide. Unless you leave now, you will surely—”

“Ten.”

“What?”

Rustle.

Mo Yong-woo, who had been staring at his subordinates’ bodies, turned his head toward Yayul Jeok.

For an instant, Yayul Jeok felt the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

‘Damn it...!’

Mo Yong-woo’s gaze remained plain and resolute.

Then why?

Why was that unchanging gaze gradually becoming so oppressive?

It was the first time Yayul Jeok had ever experienced such a thing. Yeon Hojeong was an exception. Though weaker than him, that monster’s enlightenment had already surpassed his own, making it unsurprising if he soared beyond him at any moment.

But Mo Yong-woo was different.

His enlightenment perfectly matched the realm he had attained. It was astonishing for his age, but there was no reason for Yayul Jeok to feel intimidated.

Yet he had to summon every ounce of his will merely to meet Mo Yong-woo’s eyes directly.

“We only began destroying this place to observe how your side would respond. We decided long ago what to destroy and how. From the beginning, we had no intention of leaving this place you call the Night Citadel intact.”

“......!”

“Just as I expected. The assassins outside the gates were only bait. I knew someone would emerge from an unexpected place. And nine times out of ten, that person would be the one who once ruled this citadel.”

A faint smile touched Mo Yong-woo’s lips.

Yayul Jeok’s presence wavered at that chilling smile.

“That person is you. You moved exactly as we expected.”

“......”

“Even with assistance from various sources, building a kingdom of this scale in little more than a decade proves that you possess considerable ability. Yet if you could fall into a scheme devised by someone inferior to you, our Supreme Commander must have driven you into quite a corner.”

“......”

“What a pity. You have been pushed back again and again until you can no longer even read your opponent’s schemes, yet I find myself unable to laugh at you. That is what I truly regret.”

Vvvvvmm!

The Demon-Sweeping Greatsword resonated fiercely.

It was not the sword resonance Yeon Hojeong had displayed. The Heaven-and-Earth Eight Extremes True Qi, resonating with Mo Yong-woo’s emotions, was simply turning into Killing Intent and pouring into the blade.

“I did not anticipate this place. I never imagined there would be a passage here. Had I known, I would never have stationed our recruits in this area.”

It was true.

The ten soldiers Yayul Jeok had personally beheaded were new members of the Demon-Sweeping Corps, recruited to replace those lost in earlier battles.

This had been their first campaign.

And they had died so meaninglessly.

“Death is meaningless by nature. My men knew that. They knew that the first campaign was the most dangerous. They accepted, deep in their hearts, that a single minor mistake could kill them—and that even without making a mistake, they might still die.”

Fwoooosh.

True Qi as blue as the sky surged around Mo Yong-woo like flames.

Wooooooong.

Beast King Evil Qi rose from Yayul Jeok’s body.

This was no time for this.

He had to disrupt his opponents somehow, create an opening, and immediately disappear from sight with the stealth arts of Yin Cold and Yin Fire. He could not afford to waste time here.

And yet, as he looked at Mo Yong-woo, Yayul Jeok raised Beast King Evil Qi instead of Supreme Yin God Qi.

It was compulsion.

Even though he knew he did not have to, Mo Yong-woo’s presence was stimulating him beyond measure.

Like a drug.

His mind knew he should not do this, yet Mo Yong-woo’s slowly rising power relentlessly provoked the instincts Yayul Jeok had possessed during his days in the Perverse Lust Cult, when he had been renowned for his beastlike fighting methods.

“The deaths of my subordinates are my responsibility as their commander. I do not know what you are plotting, but you will not easily escape from a man carrying the weight of their lives.”

“Silence!”

Yayul Jeok shouted before he realized it.

Even he was startled by the coarse rasp in his voice.

‘What is happening?’

Something was wrong.

His body kept reacting in ways that contradicted his reason.

‘After mastering Supreme Yin God Qi, I escaped my past. Did I not completely shed the life of a beast that knew nothing but instinct?’

Instead, he had brought all of Guangdong Province under his control through judgment colder than anyone else’s.

‘Then why am I reverting to that man now?!’

Killing Intent flashed through Mo Yong-woo’s steadfast eyes.

“You will not die cleanly, hound of the Perverse Lust Cult.”

Whoosh!

Mo Yong-woo’s sword energy surged and shot toward Yayul Jeok’s forehead like a bolt of lightning.

At almost the same instant, Yayul Jeok lowered his stance and kicked off the ground. The sword energy sliced past, severing strands of his hair.

The difference had been razor-thin.

Yet that difference was also an absolute limit the current Mo Yong-woo could not overcome.

Mo Yong-woo knew it as well.

ROOOAAAR!!

In the blink of an eye, Yayul Jeok entered Mo Yong-woo’s effective range and swung his fist.

Then a terrifying Lion’s Roar erupted from behind and to his left, making his entire body seize.

It was Beomo’s Lion’s Roar.

The Buddhist Lion’s Roar, the natural bane of evil qi, shook Yayul Jeok’s composure and twisted the evil qi coursing through him.

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes flashed.

Slash!

Yayul Jeok staggered backward.

A long diagonal wound stretched across his chest, carved by the Demon-Sweeping Greatsword.

Yayul Jeok’s eyes snapped wide.

‘Damn!’

Only after taking that single sword strike did his mind finally seem to cool.

Fwoosh!

Without looking back, Yayul Jeok dashed toward a staircase more than a hundred feet away.

That was when it happened.

Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!

A barrage of flaming arrows rained down, turning the staircase he had intended to break through into a sea of fire. It too had been thoroughly drenched in oil.

Naturally, flames alone could not stop a master of his caliber.

But they could make him hesitate for a moment.

Mo Yong-woo and Beomo did not miss it.

Thud!

Beomo’s fist slammed into Yayul Jeok’s shoulder.

As Yayul Jeok stumbled, Mo Yong-woo swung the Demon-Sweeping Greatsword at his back with brutal speed.

Booom!

The enormous blade buried itself in Yayul Jeok’s abdomen.

Only then did Mo Yong-woo speak, his voice seething with Killing Intent.

“You will not die cleanly.”