Black and White Martial Emperor
Chapter 288: Preparations Complete (2)
“Whew.”
The young man drew in a deep breath.
“When it comes to movement-technique training, nothing beats crossing mountains and rivers. Something I’d only learned, never truly mastered, is already starting to settle into my body.”
Of course, that only applied to movement arts. Real combat was different. Battle efficiency only rose when one knew how to weave swordsmanship and movement arts together at exactly the right moments.
Brother can probably do all of that.
The young man thought of his own blood.
A hidden dragon who had been waiting for the day he would roar at the world.
After the two of them put the awkwardness of childhood behind them, his brother had become a completely different person.
Until a few years ago, the young man had been able to watch his brother’s growth with nothing but boundless admiration. In some ways, it had even reassured him. For brothers with a history as unusual as theirs, it was almost a blessing that his brother was so far above him.
But only now had the young man finally managed to set his own heart in order.
He had sincerely rejoiced in his brother’s growth, in the fame of the foremost of the younger generation under heaven who had broken through the Wall of Martial Arts in his early twenties. But at the same time, he had come to understand it keenly—he could not be the one to stain his brother’s name.
His brother was a genius without equal in the world. He could not show such a brother the sight of an inadequate younger brother.
And so, after day upon day of blood and bone-grinding effort—
the young man had finally gained confidence in his own strength, in his own level.
The confidence that he had at least become strong enough not to drag mud across the honor of his father and brother.
“All right. That’s enough rest. Time to run again.”
In that brief pause, he restored his ragged breathing completely to normal.
It was a recovery speed so fast it bordered on the unbelievable. Whatever the quality and quantity of his Inner Qi, he could never have recovered his breath that quickly without tempering his stamina to the limit.
The young man kicked off the ground.
PAAANG!
He shot forward like an arrow loosed from the bow.
The speed was astonishing. In movement technique alone, he had reached a level where even most Peak masters would have to look up at him. And even in that brief span, the motions and breathing that had still been slightly awkward were snapping into place at a terrifying pace.
A genius.
Not the kind who analyzed and absorbed things with his head, but a once-in-a-generation martial prodigy whose innate senses were so extraordinary that his body remembered before his mind did.
PAAAAANG! PAAAAANG!
The speed of his movement technique, already fast, only kept growing faster.
His breath distribution adjusted itself ever closer to perfection. The motions of his arms and legs gradually became one. Unnecessary breathing diminished, and naturally the consumption of Inner Qi slowed with it.
It was like a lofty scholar riding a crane through the sky. This was the true form of Heaven-Granted Flowing Flight, the finest movement technique of the Yeon Clan of Green Mountain.
How long had he gone on like that?
......?!
The young man’s eyes sharpened.
Steel.
SHIIIING. JJEOOOOOEONG!
From somewhere far away, a harsh metallic ringing reached him.
It was the sound of weapons colliding. And behind that fierce impact rolled blazing Killing Intent and a desperate stench of blood, surging like waves.
If it’s in that direction, that means Brother and the others are heading there...
Then—
HWAAAAAAK!
The young man’s eyes widened.
Amid all that murderous pressure and blood-stench, one presence—so familiar, yet utterly alien—made his chest tremble.
FWOOOOSH!
It was a dazzling presence like fire, one he had never felt in his life. No—an actual fire qi, so fierce it seemed ready to burn the whole world to ash.
And what upheld that fire qi was a divine art that had nearly reached the realm of perfection.
Jade Wave True Qi!
The sword spirit inside him exploded.
BOOOOOOM!
The young man’s body shot out like a streak of light.
*****
JJEOJEOJEOJEONG! PUHWAAAAK!
The blood splashed across the air looked like black ink even beneath the bright moonlight.
CHWARURURURURUK! BAM-BAM-BAM!
The fanged heads of the Flood Dragon Chain, sweeping across a broad range, ripped open the throats of the black-clad attackers surging in without pause.
Yeon Hojeong shouted.
“Commander Mo Yong!”
“I know!”
PAAAAANG!
Mo Yong-woo plunged straight into the left approach and drove down a powerful Stamping Step.
BANG!
The earth shook.
It was a Stamping Step of raw force. It had less sheer impact than the one Yeon Hojeong stamped out, but the way its vibration spread much farther told the story of Mo Yong-woo’s martial art.
Heaven and Earth.
Mo Yong-woo’s Demon-Sweeping Greatsword moved like a beam of light.
JJEOOOOOEONG! SLASH! JJEOOOOOEONG! SLASH!
Every time the heavy blade crossed the air, the black-clad figures’ Narrow-Edge Blades and paired crescent axes shattered into fragments.
And it was not only the weapons in their hands that were being broken apart.
Yeon Hojeong was not the only one enraged by the sudden ambush. Mo Yong-woo too was letting out the rare Killing Intent he usually kept buried, cutting through his enemies one after another.
THUD! THUD! TRRRRING!
He smashed in one skull with the flat of his blade, then caught seven short spears and Narrow-Edge Blades at once with a single swing.
It was a flowing chain of sword forms. It lacked the overwhelming might of a one-hit kill, but its current was vast and unstoppable, like the Yangtze itself.
Mo Yong-woo twisted the Demon-Sweeping Greatsword.
KRAK!
Every weapon caught on the blade exploded apart.
At the same time, his left hand spat fire.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!
The seven black-clad figures struck by that supple palm force vomited blood from all seven orifices and collapsed.
It was a vicious killing move. This was the moment the Mo Yong Clan’s secret hand art, Desolate Wind Palm, revealed its might to the world.
JJEOJEOJEOJEONG! SLASH! PUHWAAAAK!
Mo Yong-woo’s swordsmanship was astonishing.
Until now, Yeon Hojeong had handled most of their battles, but in truth, Mo Yong-woo’s skill was itself at the very top among his generation.
And he possessed something else.
A talent.
A talent Yeon Hojeong did not have, and one that only he had been born with in the Mo Yong Clan.
Five.
Mo Yong-woo closed his eyes.
His sword, meanwhile, traced a solemn current and wrapped around the black-clad attackers springing high into the air.
In that instant, the Inner Qi of the Heaven-and-Earth Eight Extremes Heart Method sharpened like a drawn edge.
PUHWAAAAK!
A rain of blood poured down from the sky.
He bound the targets with invisible sword aura, then drew it tight and cut them down in one motion. It was a Sword Aura Art not found in the Heaven-and-Earth Hundred-Eight Sword Resolution—something he had improvised on the spot after watching the movements of the Flood Dragon Chain.
It was an astonishing feat.
Even if someone gained sudden enlightenment in an instant, putting that into practice in real combat was another matter entirely. In a fight to the death, an unfamiliar realization should have been useless the moment one tried to force it out.
But that did not apply to Mo Yong-woo.
In an extreme situation, he could take what he saw and felt and pour it directly into his sword formula, with no dissonance at all—as if he had already trained it hundreds of times.
That was Mo Yong-woo’s talent.
A talent different from Yeon Jipyeong’s, who absorbed everything through pure instinct.
Mo Yong-woo’s gift was the acceleration of learning itself.
It was not merely that his combat ability was outstanding. It was that once he learned any martial art, he could wield it skillfully almost at once. The speed at which he settled realizations born from extreme analytical insight into his body was so fast it bordered on the incomprehensible.
This is it.
CHWAAAAAAAK!
Blood scattering in every direction blotted out the moonlight.
This is my martial path!
Even as he drew grave, weighty sword forms, there was no break in them whatsoever. In this moment, he was finally unfolding with certainty the martial art he had grasped through that earlier conversation with Yeon Hojeong.
Then a huge net spread out above Yeon Hojeong and Mo Yong-woo’s heads.
Mo Yong-woo’s eyes wavered.
That’ll be difficult.
There were too many enemies rushing in. His swordsmanship was already at its limit just holding them in place, let alone cutting through that net.
Then—
BWAAAAAAANG! BOOOOOOM!
An iron coin, carrying force like a cannon shot—no, beyond a cannon shot—blew the net apart in one hit and hurled it backward.
Vice Commander Mook!
Mookbi, who had not entered the battle line until now, had joined the fight at the perfect moment.
Just as I thought!
It was a splendid strike. What impressed Mo Yong-woo was not the power of the shot, but Mookbi’s timing.
There had been no need for her to waste arrows under the excuse of helping while she was still correcting her internal injury. It was more than enough that she had loosed her shot only at the moment a gap appeared in the ironclad offensive and defensive line formed by Yeon Hojeong and Mo Yong-woo.
Thanks to that, Mookbi had been able to conserve her strength. And if the worst happened, it would raise her allies’ chances of surviving.
Yeon Hojeong shouted.
“Commander Mo Yong! This isn’t the time to get distracted!”
“Ah—my apologies!”
CHWARURURURURUK! BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!
The pointed heads of the Flood Dragon Chain pierced through the bodies of the black-clad figures like blades.
It was a monstrous martial art that swept every direction at once. And whenever the hundred-pound Mad Dragon came down in a swing, black-clad bodies burst apart with explosive pops as if they had been struck by artillery shells.
At that point, no matter how fanatical they were, their nerve could only crack. The black-clad figures faltered, retreating as they tried to form ranks.
Then Yeon Hojeong’s voice transmission shot to Mo Yong-woo and Mookbi.
[These bastards—their attacks aren’t consistent. This isn’t one organization. It’s several mixed together.]
The two of them agreed at once.
The enemies’ attacks looked fierce at first glance, but somehow lacked system. Of course, their numbers and Killing Intent alone made them a tremendous threat, but they were throwing themselves in at different moments and creating pointless casualties.
[And now they’re pulling back! They’re trying to form up and fight with their heads! We can’t give them time to think!]
In an instant, crimson fire qi flared across Yeon Hojeong’s entire body.
Mo Yong-woo and Mookbi’s eyes widened.
BANG!
Moving three times faster than the black-clad figures were retreating, Yeon Hojeong plunged into the center of the enemy ranks and swung Mad Dragon.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!
“What the—!”
“Spread out! Scatter!”
For the first time, screams burst from the mouths of the black-clad figures who had attacked in silence until now.
Mo Yong-woo shouted.
“Commander Yeon!”
Yeon Hojeong raised Mad Dragon over his head.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
It was savage ax-work.
He raised the axe high overhead and split enemies open as it fell, and the speed of it was utterly insane. No one could have split firewood that fast.
KWAAAAANG!
Red-Flame Six-Kill Art exploded together with a powerful Stamping Step.
This was not the Tiger King’s Nine-Wall Breaker, the martial art of force and relentless advance.
This was the Six-Kill Art in its killing aspect—the one that thirsted for enemy blood and burned their corpses.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM! BANG! BANG! KURURURUNG!
Calling it a one-man stage would not have been an exaggeration.
The enemy already lacked coordination, and Yeon Hojeong now swung his axe among them like a mad butcher, attacking more ferociously than usual as if determined to kill every one he could while he had the chance.
SLASH! PUHWAAAAK!
But no matter how strong Yeon Hojeong was, the enemy numbers were too great.
Narrow-Edge Blades, harpoons, paired crescent axes, and all manner of hidden weapons added one wound after another to his body.
On top of that, the internal injury he had suffered while destroying the cannons had not fully healed yet. Yeon Hojeong’s complexion gradually turned pale.
Mo Yong-woo’s face twisted as he saw it.
“Commander Yeon!”
He was just about to cry out and leap forward himself—
......?!
A powerful qi wave of unknown origin came pressing in from the rear.
Mo Yong-woo and Mookbi were startled.
A master?!
It was an intense qi wave.
There was something urgent in it as well, but the problem was the speed of the one approaching. It was monstrous.
And the blade-sharp qi wave that matched that speed churned everything around it like a storm. Perhaps that person would not be a match for Yeon Hojeong or Mo Yong-woo, but the instant someone of that level entered the battle, the situation would change.
Mo Yong-woo shouted.
“Vice Commander Mook!”
“I know!”
At this point, Mookbi could no longer afford to keep conserving strength.
KRRRRK!
As she drew the string of the Red Lotus Bow, Mookbi’s eyes locked on a young man rushing toward them at terrifying speed.
A swordsman! And fast! Then his reaction speed must be incredible too—huh?
Mookbi blinked.
Why?
For some reason, the approaching qi wave felt familiar. And the face drawing closer at terrifying speed also looked like someone she had seen before.
And while Mookbi froze there in confusion—
the young man, who had been charging in on a storm wind, kicked off the ground and vaulted straight up.
BOOOOOOM!
The way he rose into the air resembled a great roc crossing the heavens.
Mo Yong-woo, who had been about to shout to Mookbi, found himself staring at the young man instead. The youth had already reached the sky above the enemy ranks.
Beautiful.
A movement so astonishingly fast, so beautiful it could make one lose oneself for a moment.
But the instant the young man drew his sword, that aura—so entrancing it almost dazed the eye—changed all at once.
SHRAAAANG!
A draw slash in full charge.
A massive net of sword aura burst out as if to cut apart heaven ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) and earth in every direction, drawing every gaze, friend and foe alike.
He looked almost unrecognizably grown, and his eyes had become startlingly hard.
The young man—
Yeon Jipyeong—
flashed a fearsome sword-light from those hardened eyes.
“Brother!”
Surprise broke across Yeon Hojeong’s face.
“Jipyeong!”
Yeon Jipyeong’s sword force swept across all directions and coiled around the wrists of the attackers.
PUHWAAAAK!