Black and White Martial Emperor

SPLASH!

After soaking in hot water, the young man poured cold water over his head once more and shook it vigorously.

When someone became completely absorbed in something, food and sleep were easily forgotten. Bathing hardly needed mentioning.

The young man had spent more than half a day washing away layers of accumulated grime. He clipped his fingernails and toenails clean and cut off his tangled hair.

Only then did his naturally fair complexion and gentle eyes emerge again. The blade-like gleam of madness that had once filled his gaze was nowhere to be seen. In its place were eyes of remarkable depth and clarity.

“Hmm.”

After dressing, the young man—Yeon Jipyeong—stepped onto the training ground and turned his head.

Gangryang was standing there.

“Ah, Brother.”

Gangryang smirked.

“Did you attain some enlightenment? Or did you finally realize you’d gotten so filthy even the Beggars’ Union would have trouble taking you in?”

Yeon Jipyeong scratched his head awkwardly.

“Was it really that bad?”

“Beyond words. Still, it was fine. You didn’t smell.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“I’m serious. That part was almost impressive.”

Yeon Jipyeong merely smiled.

Gangryang’s eyes gleamed as he studied him.

He’s changed.

His eyes, his posture, even the air around him.

This was not the Yeon Jipyeong Gangryang had seen only a few days ago. And it was not merely because his body and clothing were now clean.

He really has changed. Not just his eyes, either. Even that sword energy that used to surge in every direction because he couldn’t contain it...

Yeon Jipyeong’s sword energy possessed extraordinary density.

It had not been like that at first. But throughout his training here, it had grown denser and denser until eventually every strand of sword energy felt like a real blade.

Yet no matter how extraordinary sword energy might be, it was useless if one could not control it freely.

A man born with tremendous physical strength could swing a treasured sword all he liked, but without skill, his attacks would still be less formidable than a branch in the hands of a master.

That had been Yeon Jipyeong’s condition.

Not anymore.

He’s gathered it all in perfectly. I can barely sense even the thinnest thread of energy leaking out.

The masses of sword energy that had once thrashed wildly in every direction had vanished so completely that Gangryang could not find them even when he searched carefully.

After staring at Yeon Jipyeong for a while, Gangryang grinned.

“Jipyeong.”

“Yes, Brother?”

SHING!

His sword flashed from its sheath and shot toward Yeon Jipyeong’s neck like an awl.

It was a lightning-fast strike.

Gangryang clearly had not been idle either. The sequence from drawing the sword into a swift-sword attack was so clean it sent a chill down the spine.

“...”

Gangryang’s blade stopped just before Yeon Jipyeong’s throat.

Yeon Jipyeong continued looking at him with the same deep, tranquil gaze.

Gangryang studied him in silence, then withdrew the sword.

“Why didn’t you dodge?”

“I didn’t sense any Killing Intent.”

“I released Killing Intent. Don’t tell me you saw through what was real and what was false in it?”

Yeon Jipyeong shook his head.

“Before any of that, there was simply no way you would cut off my head.”

Gangryang burst into laughter.

“You never know. Maybe someday we’ll end up fighting over the same woman and actually draw swords on each other.”

“Then I’ll dodge when that day comes.”

Oh?

Gangryang had only meant to provoke him a little, but Yeon Jipyeong’s response was remarkably smooth.

That was not something one could fake.

His heart had simply become that steady and composed.

Forget the qualitative improvement in his martial arts. He’s completely straightened out the confusion that used to fill his mind.

SHING. Click.

Gangryang sheathed his sword.

Then he remarked casually,

“You look good.”

It was exactly the sort of thing he would say.

Yeon Jipyeong spoke.

“Your sword power has improved tremendously as well.”

“You can tell?”

“Yes.”

“How was it?”

“Different from mine.”

The corners of Gangryang’s mouth rose.

“Of course it is. There’s no point arguing over which is superior, but if we clash head-on, I’m still above you.”

“Yes. I think so too.”

“Though if you start playing tricks, I might be in trouble.”

“That remains to be seen.”

His tone was still perfectly calm.

Not even the slightest tremor entered his voice despite being told the other man was stronger.

Gangryang sighed softly.

“I really don’t understand how you and your brother both ended up becoming such monsters.”

“Monsters?”

“Your brother became known as the greatest younger-generation master under heaven at his age and built martial prowess great enough to look down even on the leaders of major sects. And you, with barely any real experience, agonized over your sword for a few months and somehow grasped the Still Sword.”

The Still Sword.

It was one of the countless states a sword practitioner might attain.

But the Still Sword was not a realm that could be divided into neat stages.

Someone with less martial prowess than Yeon Jipyeong might realize it, while even a master of the Supreme Heavens might never do so.

It was called the Still Sword simply because there was no better term for it.

But Gangryang understood one thing.

Now that Yeon Jipyeong had grasped it, his sword would carry out its master’s will without the slightest wavering, no matter the situation.

Even if rage turned his vision red, even if grief crushed his heart, his sword would not waver.

“Isn’t that right, Brother?”

At Gangryang’s question, Yeon Hojeong’s voice came from beyond the training-ground wall.

“I don’t know about being a monster, but I do know Jipyeong deserves praise for bringing that chaotic sword of his under control.”

Yeon Hojeong had been leaning against the far side of the wall with his arms crossed.

With one light movement, he vaulted over it.

After landing, he walked straight up to Yeon Jipyeong.

“...”

The brothers stared at each other in silence.

Yeon Jipyeong was now nearly as tall as Yeon Hojeong.

Yeon Hojeong had lived too rough a life traveling across the Central Plains for his skin to remain pale. Yeon Jipyeong, on the other hand, remained fair despite having trained relentlessly beneath the blazing sun.

Their features resembled each other, yet Yeon Hojeong’s impression was sharp like Yeon Wi’s, while Yeon Jipyeong’s was gentle and peaceful like their late mother’s.

They looked so alike.

And yet so different.

But Gangryang had never thought the brothers resembled each other as much as they did today.

Especially their eyes.

Their gazes are practically identical.

Despite Yeon Hojeong’s rough methods and unconventional behavior, his eyes were always as clear and deep as a lake.

The same was now true of Yeon Jipyeong.

The color of his presence was different, but after grasping the Still Sword, Yeon Jipyeong’s eyes had become no less clear or deep than his brother’s.

How long did they stand there like that?

“I haven’t even been able to look after you properly, and you’ve already come this far. I’m proud of you.”

Yeon Jipyeong smiled.

“Your very existence has always been both care and instruction to me. Without you, Brother, I could never have dreamed of reaching this point.”

“Your way with words improved along with your enlightenment.”

“Isn’t sincerity more splendid than any ornament one could add to it?”

“Hahaha.”

At last, Yeon Hojeong’s expression relaxed.

He reached out and thoroughly mussed Yeon Jipyeong’s hair.

Yeon Jipyeong cried out in protest.

“I just washed and dried it! You’re ruining it!”

“You’re too neat, you brat. It won’t hurt you to be a little messy.”

After teasing him for a while, Yeon Hojeong suddenly noticed the battered scabbard hanging from Yeon Jipyeong’s belt.

“That thing looks like you’ve used it for ten years.”

“Oh, this?”

“Want me to get you another sword?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Your sword is still broken in half, isn’t it?”

Yeon Jipyeong drew it slightly.

Just as Yeon Hojeong had said, the blade had snapped cleanly in half.

He had been carrying the half-sword all this time.

Yeon Jipyeong sheathed it again.

“To one person, it may look like nothing more than a broken sword. To someone else, it may look like a companion that endured a hell where every single day felt like ten years.”

He had called it hell.

It had lasted only a few months, yet to Yeon Jipyeong, the training had been ten times harder than all the training of his life put together.

Yeon Hojeong acknowledged his younger brother.

Not his martial arts.

He acknowledged that Jipyeong had shattered the first wall of despair he had ever faced and returned as a different man.

That he had become a martial artist in the truest sense.

Yeon Hojeong spoke.

“The exact date hasn’t been decided yet. There’s still work to finish in Guangdong, and I need to meet those old fossils you don’t know about one more time.”

“...?”

“But I think all of that will be wrapped up soon.”

Gangryang was quick to catch on.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Looks like I’ll have to return to the Martial Alliance.”

“I see.”

“But the Righteous Justice Corps will remain here. There’s a power vacuum now, so a Martial Alliance force needs to stay behind and prevent crooked organizations from gaining ground. The Righteous Justice Corps’ mere presence should be enough of a deterrent to keep Dark Path factions from openly raising their banners.”

Yeon Hojeong looked at Gangryang.

“There’s also a chance I’ll stop by Ink Dragon Manor on the way.”

Gangryang’s eyes changed instantly.

But that was all.

He neither revealed anger nor released Killing Intent.

If Yeon Jipyeong had learned to govern his heart through the sword, Gangryang had learned to govern his through life itself.

There was a deep-rooted steadiness to him.

“This time, I’d like to make use of you. Interested?”

The corners of Gangryang’s mouth rose.

“Use me whenever you like. I’ve been meaning to see Yangcheon’s face again myself.”

“Hard face to forget, isn’t it?”

“He never looked at me back then.”

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

Then he turned to Yeon Jipyeong.

“Jipyeong, what about you?”

Yeon Jipyeong’s answer was unexpected.

“I’ll stay here.”

Yeon Hojeong had expected him to say he would come along.

This was a surprise.

“While I was trapped inside my own thoughts and losing control, a great many people suffered because of me. I don’t know how much help I can be, but I think having me here would at least be better than not.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

“Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

His younger brother had become a true martial artist.

And now, within him, even the makings of a great man—someone who knew how to be grateful for the smallest consideration—had begun to grow.

Kind and goodhearted, yet firm in his own convictions.

Once again, Yeon Hojeong became certain.

Someday, Yeon Jipyeong would become one of the greatest Clan Lords in the history of the Yeon Clan.

“I have something to take care of, so I’m heading out. Before I leave, though, let me see how sharp the two of you have made your swords.”

“Yes.”

“Get some rest. And Jipyeong.”

“Yes, Brother?”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Yeon Hojeong turned away.

The warmth that had filled his eyes was already gone, replaced by coldness.

That should be enough preparation.

He had spoken to Mo Yong-woo.

He had told Mookbi as well.

Now only Putuo’s problem and one more meeting with the old men of Foshan remained.

Once those were finished, he would head straight back to the Alliance.

There’s no time. First, I should wake up the one who’s been enjoying herself unconscious.

*****

“...”

When Hwaun opened her eyes after several days, her face had grown noticeably gaunt.

But her gaze was different from before she collapsed.

It was not clear, but neither was it brimming with desire as it had been before.

The instant consciousness returned, she realized that she had been unconscious for a long time.

And she knew why she had fallen unconscious in the first place.

...

Hwaun closed her eyes again.

Her thoughts were tangled.

Putting her heart in order would not be easy.

Then a voice reached her.

“If you’re awake, get up.”

Hwaun flinched.

She had not even realized someone else was in the room.

Slowly sitting up, she saw Yeon Hojeong and Jeongan.

Jeongan’s face brightened.

“Martial Aunt!”

“...Jeongan.”

Why was it?

Hwaun could not bring herself to meet Jeongan’s eyes.

She lowered her head in shame.

Yeon Hojeong’s voice drove into her ears once again.

“You don’t have the right to lower your head. If you think that will earn you sympathy, you’re mistaken.”

“...!”

“Things are moving quickly. You can sort out your thoughts later. For now, you and I need to talk.”