Black and White Martial Emperor

“Father.”

“Come in.”

Yeon Hojeong stepped into the Clan Lord’s hall.

Whoosh.

The instant he crossed the threshold, a thick reek of sweat rippled through the air.

Yeon Wi’s eyes lit.

“Were you in the middle of training?”

“I’m fine. I was thinking of stopping around here today.”

Yeon Wi’s gaze raked him up and down.

As usual, Hojeong wasn’t wearing an outer robe; he had on close-fitting training clothes. Soaked with sweat, they showed the lines of his body as they were.

You’ve grown.

Hojeong’s body had changed past recognition.

The legs that used to be simply long had filled out to a proper swell and hardened like iron pylons. He was still slender, but his shoulders, chest, and forearms were far more solid than before, and the quality of his muscle stood out.

It was change you wouldn’t believe for just four months. Training pushed to the limit, ample nutrition, proper rest—and inner power that made rapid recovery possible.

Of course, saying it was easy didn’t make it so; few could do this. From the start, not skipping the kind of training that left him collapsing mid-run meant his willpower was something else.

“Two months ago I remember you being even more gaunt.”

“I thought I was going to die.”

“That’s why I told you to stop.”

“If I’d listened, would I have grown this far?”

In truth, father and son hadn’t seen each other for nearly eighty days. Yeon Wi had deliberately not summoned him.

Even so—never once showing his face? Son or not, the man was truly ruthless.

“It seems you’ve set a framework.”

“Yes. I think it’s about time to start changing things.”

Turning his eyes to the documents, Yeon Wi said,

“Drop by now and then for a cup of tea.”

Hojeong smiled.

“Understood.”

“Sit.”

“Yes.”

Once seated, Hojeong asked,

“What did you call me here for?”

Do I need a reason to see my son?

That was his feeling, but he had in fact called him for a matter. Yeon Wi quickly reviewed a few pages, then handed over a letter set to one side.

“It came addressed to you.”

Hojeong tilted his head. Who would send him a separate letter?

Huh?

Thinking about it—there was one place.

He hurriedly opened the letter. His eyes sparkled at once.

Pay the commission fee, you thief.

He almost burst out laughing after the first line.

Damn it! I thought I could wrap this inquiry fast, but it gave me way more trouble than I expected! You knew that, didn’t you? Of course you knew. Hell, I did you a useless favor and it cost me a pile of my own money!

Since when does a beggar talk about money? The man seemed to have forgotten he was the Rear Beggar.

Anyway, most of the investigation’s done. I meant to come within a month or two, but I’m late—sorry. I’ll come in fifteen days, so lay out some food that actually tastes like something. If it doesn’t suit my mouth, I’ll trash the place.

For him to talk like this, he must have gone through quite a lot.

But Hojeong knew. The tougher the process, the bigger the fruit.

So the investigation’s finished.

He could have sent the findings by letter, but he said he would come say it in person.

It’s one of two things—either it has to stay confidential, or it’s too vast to write. Or both.

Hojeong’s gaze deepened.

Fifteen days... that might be a little tight.

If Ga Deoksang had dug up enough, then that was the moment for Hojeong to move.

Until then he had to overhaul his body as much as possible. The martial world was where anything could blow up anytime. He had to step at least one stage beyond where he was now.

“The letter mentions someone named Ga Deoksang.”

Hojeong looked at Yeon Wi.

Still scanning the paperwork, Yeon Wi asked,

“Surely not the Rear Beggar of the Beggars’ Union?”

“That’s right.”

“When did you forge ties with the Rear Beggar?”

“At the gathering.”

A smile touched Yeon Wi’s lips—so faint one might not notice it was a smile.

“Good.”

He knew how the young tended to look at the Beggars’ Union. But since it had come to the point of sending letters, it seemed his son had built a decent relationship.

“There’s a reason the Beggars’ Union is mentioned alongside the Nine Sects and One Union. Keeping good terms with a successor of a hall like that is very important.”

“He’s a good person without having to approach him that way.”

“Of course. It’s not as if there are many who can put up with your harsh temperament.”

Hojeong cleared his throat.

“In any case, he says he’ll come in fifteen days. Please receive him as a guest.”

“He’s the successor of the Hundred-Thousand Branch Beggars’ Union. And my son’s friend, besides—of course he’s welcome.”

Hojeong tucked the letter into his breast.

Yeon Wi did not ask what was in it. He judged his son must have a reason for not volunteering it.

“Then I’ll—”

“You said you’d finish training there for today?”

“Sir? Ah, yes.”

Yeon Wi rose.

As if something in the documents still displeased him, he stared at them to the end, then shrugged off the outer robe on his shoulders.

“Follow me.”

Behind the Clan Lord’s hall.

It was the place they’d stopped by when converting Flying Swallow Heart Method into Jade Wave True Qi.

I felt it then too—this is excellent.

The condition of the training ground was one thing, but the lack of clutter was better.

Standing at center, hands clasped behind his back, Yeon Wi asked,

“Still working the spear-staff?”

“Yes.”

He pointed at the weapon rack.

“Pick one.”

Light flared in Hojeong’s eyes.

Pick a weapon? That meant one thing.

A bout with Father?

A thud of excitement hit his chest.

He had never once crossed weapons with his father. He remembered receiving instruction as a very small child—he remembered it being extremely hard.

Walking to the rack, looking over a few spears, he asked,

“Properly?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you face me properly?”

Yeon Wi’s eyes shone.

“Would I have called you if I didn’t intend to?”

The moment the words ended, Hojeong snatched up a polearm.

It wasn’t a simple long spear. It was a long weapon with crescent-moon blades flanking the main spearhead—a Fangtian Halberd.

Good.

The shaft was iron all the way through, so the weight was tremendous. He swung it this way and that, then smiled, satisfied.

“I’ll use this.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve polished a Halberd-Saber Method too?”

“It’s an extension of the spear-staff. For now, I think this is optimal.”

Yeon Wi thought,

‘This is optimal’? Meaning you can go further later—hm?

Watching his son in silence, he likewise took a sword from the rack.

Hojeong’s eyes widened.

“A Heavy Sword?”

Yeon Wi paused.

“You recognize it?”

“Yes. The weight isn’t ordinary.”

What he held looked like any belt-worn Central Plains sword. But this was a Heavy Sword deliberately made weighty by a master smith.

His son’s eye surprised him.

He can penetrate a weapon’s nature.

Impressive. Even the keen-sensed second son couldn’t see that.

Shing—thud!

The scabbard hit the ground with a dense thump.

“Come up.”

Hojeong drew a deep breath.

This is making me tense.

His father was a strongman. From his qi pressure alone in the past, Hojeong had felt he was at the highest peak of the Seven Great Clans.

But the reason for his nerves wasn’t that his father was strong.

Thoom.

Stepping onto the training ground, Hojeong slung the Fangtian Halberd over his shoulder.

Yeon Wi’s gaze deepened.

Because in the slowly lowered posture, with the halberd resting on his shoulder, there was not a single gap—only solidity.

“Do you know why I wanted to watch your martial arts?”

What he said out loud didn’t match the pounding in his chest.

“I don’t think a father needs a great reason to watch his son’s martial arts.”

“You’re right. But today there is a definite reason.”

“What is it?”

Yeon Wi suddenly closed his mouth.

Puzzlement crept over Hojeong’s face.

“Why so?”

“...I’ll tell you after our crossing of arms is done.”

“Understood.”

Yeon Wi took his stance.

Vrrrrm.

Steel hummed in a low note.

His posture was unique. He kept his spine straight and clasped his left hand behind his back. The steel sword in his right hand lowered to the low guard—and his gaze wasn’t even on Hojeong but on the sword tip.

A stance that exuded elegance. But by any look, it wasn’t a practical fighting guard.

Even so, Hojeong could meet the steel-hard spirit that hung within that gentlemanly bearing.

Sssss.

A hair-raising edge.

Inner power refined to the extreme held his body in a stable lock, and the lowered sword tip seemed to hold the power to split the sky in an instant.

Vrooooom.

When had it begun?

The formless qi pressure leaking from Yeon Wi began to slowly bind around Hojeong.

It was a chill, razor-keen energy. So sharp it made you hesitate to even bring a hand near.

Sword Ultimate Essence!

One of the Five Divine Arts of the Yeon Clan of Green Mountain.

A supreme divine art that condensed force pushed to its limit to heighten one’s qi quality, then, in that heightened state, fanned it once more to the extreme.

And that stance... the Gentleman’s Eight Sword Stances.

If Sword Ultimate Essence was one of the Five Divine Arts, then the Gentleman’s Eight Sword Stances were one of the clan’s Three Great Sword Methods.

In short, Yeon Wi intended to unfold the Yeon Clan’s best arts. He’d modulate the power as needed, but drawing two peerless teachings at once meant he was taking this bout seriously.

Blue light kindled in Hojeong’s eyes.

Thud!

With a vigorous Stamping Step, he lowered his posture even further, both hands gripping the Fangtian Halberd.

A strange light flashed in Yeon Wi’s eyes.

That grip?

It was a posture like he was about to hew the base of a tree with an axe.

In uniqueness it had nothing to envy next to the Gentleman’s Eight Sword Stances. Only, if that stance was still, Hojeong’s was moving.

Hweee—

A line of wind cooled the heat between father and son.

“Come.”

“I’m coming.”

Hojeong sprang at him.

Thoom!

The foot driving into the ground sounded like a war drum.

Yeon Wi’s eyes gleamed.

Fast.

Closing the distance in an instant, Hojeong swung the Fangtian Halberd.

Shraaaang!

A diagonal cleave driving in!

It was an uncompromising strike. As if swung at an enemy rather than blood, its murderous force and speed sent a chill down the spine.

Yeon Wi’s sword rose smoothly to the middle guard.

Klaaaang!

The halberd bounced away.

Light sparked in Hojeong’s eyes.

Amazing.

The iron Fangtian Halberd, iron from shaft to tip, weighed over three times his father’s sword.

Yet it flicked away lightly. The inner power laden in the blade was staggering.

He knew from this first exchange. Light feeling-out was meaningless.

He had to go full force. His father’s martial arts—the clan’s divine arts—were more than enough to withstand everything Hojeong could bring.

KWOOM!

Hojeong’s Stamping Step shook the entire rear court.

It was the strongest Stamping Step yet. Using the rebound surging up through the ground, he drew out a lightning-like strike.

Whooom!

Yeon Wi’s eyes widened.

The halberd’s momentum, chopping down as if to split Mount Tai itself, was vicious to the extreme. Leaving aside raw power, the momentum alone was worthy of a top master under heaven.

Yeon Wi gave a short slash.

GONG!

The halberd ricocheted.

As if he’d expected it, Hojeong’s body turned on the spot. At the same time, Linked Palms poured straight toward Yeon Wi’s chest.

A strike that truly caught the gap.

Surprise flickered in Yeon Wi’s /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ eyes.

Thud!