Infamy and Glory (3)
A resounding paaaang! echoed as the endlessly soft and slow sword form toyed with the air itself. The form moved languidly, but the stream of pure energy uncoiling from the blade's tip remained perfectly consistent.
The sword and qi move as one even in the direst straits. But...
Perfecting a martial form for real combat ultimately depended on the practitioner's physical prowess and inner energy control. That was why a master could subdue foes using the exact same form as a street thug's wild punch.
It came down to a honed body and precise inner energy manipulation, manifesting speed and sharpness.
It's creaking.
Mo Yong Woo's eyes, tracing the sword tip's arc, filled with regret.
Inner energy control is solid enough, but the body isn't refined. The lower body is stable, yet there's a minute error in the arm's extension angle. The shoulder's the issue.
His ability to coldly assess his own techniques as if observing from a third party's view. Even after a life as Tang Ma Army Leader focused more on administration than personal training, this insight allowed his ceaseless growth.
His skill was impressive, but his discernment was far sharper.
Mo Yong Woo's languid sword suddenly erupted into an inexplicable burst of speed.
Taaaang!
With footwork that churned the earth, his powerful blade wove a net of sword forms through the air. It was terrifyingly swift and precise, infused with steel-hard might.
He embodied the pinnacle of martial arts. His body lacked conditioning, but his enlightenment had forged a realm beyond his current power.
Harnessing explosive cardiopulmonary capacity, Mo Yong Woo drilled the Geon Gon Baek Pal Geom Hae for over a moment before halting his sword.
"Huuuuh."
His entire body flushed red-hot.
It hurts.
Muscles screamed in tearing agony throughout. At least his joints were intact—a small mercy.
I need more efficient body conditioning. For now, set the sword aside and inspect body and inner energy.
Then, applause rang from the side.
Clap, clap, clap.
Mo Yong Woo turned. There stood Moyong Gun.
"Impressive."
"Brother."
Genuine astonishment shadowed Moyong Gun's face.
"I knew you trained diligently day after day, but when did you grow so much? Your sword solutions have already reached the Sword Sea realm."
Mo Yong Woo smiled bitterly.
"Enlightenment is there, but the body can't keep up. I'm still a long way off."
"Don't say that. You've barely studied a year under Heaven-Earth arts, yet achieved this. Your talent is truly extraordinary."
Of course, his prior techniques and experience made it possible. Even accounting for that, Mo Yong Woo's growth was astonishing.
Moyong Gun smiled brightly, a look of pride.
"Slow sword training followed by swift and heavy chained strikes. Traditional, but the bodily strain is immense. Train well, but care for your body too."
"Understood."
"Good."
Mo Yong Woo asked curiously.
"But what brings you here at this hour? Has the Musung Hall meeting ended already?"
"Indeed."
Moyong Gun stroked his chin. Seeing this, Mo Yong Woo was certain.
His brother had something to say. And he could roughly guess what.
"Woo-ya."
"Speak."
"When do you plan to meet the Tang heir?"
Embarrassment crossed Mo Yong Woo's face.
"The Tang Ma Army forms in three days. Until then, I must ponder personal training and subordinate management."
"I understand your mind."
Moyong Gun's eyes gleamed oddly.
"But since we've arranged with their patriarch, I'd prefer you meet sooner."
After a pause, Mo Yong Woo nodded.
"Very well. The day before the founding ceremony, then."
Moyong Gun smiled. Mo Yong Woo never promised lightly. If he said he'd meet, he would.
"Good. Make it so."
"My apologies. I've caused you needless trouble."
Moyong Gun laughed heartily.
"You rascal, if you knew, why delay the meeting?"
"My apologies."
"I'm jesting. Meet her. If she doesn't suit, just say so. It's for you and the family, but I won't force a match if the principal objects."
This was Moyong Gun's true heart. The Tangs' power tempted, but Mo Yong Woo mattered more. He was kin, and even now, without fully revealing his strength, he'd achieved shocking growth.
Better to nurture trusted allies than seize unreliable power. That stabilized Moyong Gun's base.
Mo Yong Woo changed the subject.
"When does the Myeol Sa Army join the alliance?"
Moyong Gun's gaze chilled instantly.
"Tomorrow at noon, they arrive."
"I see."
"As I said before, they earned great merit. I never expected such swift, ruthless action."
Mo Yong Woo replied calmly.
"Before their departure, I spoke directly with Army Leader Yeon on the eve."
"Yes, you were quite shocked by him."
"Indeed. Martial arts far beyond later-generation talents, and astonishing insight. Surely a man of matching drive."
"You're right. No wonder I watch that young one closely."
Mo Yong Woo smiled.
"Tomorrow, when Myeol Sa Army enters, I'll visit him again."
Surprise flickered on Moyong Gun's face.
"Meet Yeon Hojeong?"
"Yes."
"What for?"
"Rival or not, lessons to learn must be learned. And I'm curious how much he's grown out there."
"Heh."
"Know thyself and thy enemy, and in a hundred battles, no danger. No harm in meeting."
Moyong Gun nodded.
"If you wish to go, who am I to stop you? Just beware. He shakes those he deems foes thoroughly."
"Worry not."
Mo Yong Woo's eyes sparkled.
"Months without proper results for you—I'll bring back spoils and a trophy for the Tang Ma founding."
* * *
"Oh! It's the Martial Alliance!"
"Whoa, it's been ages!"
"...Never thought I'd get this thrilled seeing the alliance."
"Kuhk, tears welling up."
The Myeol Sa troops' faces brimmed with joy upon cresting Dae Byeol Mountains and nearing Mu Rim Meng outskirts.
Weeks of relentless sweeps against vicious black path factions, no proper rest. Rewarding growth, but mental fatigue had built unseen.
In the alliance, at least five days' solid rest awaited. That lit their expressions.
Muk Bi whispered softly.
"The kids look thrilled."
Yeon Hojeong chuckled.
"Wouldn't you? Constant camping, filthy from battle, facing bloodthirsty foes."
"Relaxing's fine, but rearming mentally will be tough."
Yeon Hojeong eyed Muk Bi, surprised.
"That's new."
"What?"
"Mental arming... Doesn't sound like you."
"Hmph. I stay tense too."
"Sure, but worrying over troops' morale? You're getting vice-general savvy."
Muk Bi smirked.
"Tense or get hurt. Can't drop from Myeol Sa Army. Better tense and tough it out than wounded or dead."
Yeon Hojeong's smile deepened.
"You've grown up."
"I keep saying, I'm older than you, Young Master Yeon."
"Age? You've barely seen the world."
"Experience doesn't guarantee skill."
"Silver tongue too, huh? Fair point."
Muk Bi glanced at Yeon Hojeong's hand.
"How's the hand?"
"Huh?"
"Torn recently. Still bandaged— not fully healed?"
"Almost."
"Slower recovery than expected."
Yeon Hojeong smiled wryly.
"Yeah."
Internal injuries healed slowly from less inner energy than his Black Emperor days. But palm wound lingered because his body hit limits.
Unrelated to inner wounds.
Extreme sleep deprivation.
Bi-ra Jin-gyeol excelled. Sasinmu rivaled world-shaking arts. But Yeon Hojeong was human.
Without rest or sleep, even peak arts wrecked the body.
Muk Bi sighed.
"Rest deep once back. Alliance is safe."
"Embarrassing."
"Nothing to be. I'm shocked—you care for troops this much."
Yeon Hojeong scratched his head.
"Me too."
Handling black path warriors, he was a blade. Never trained like Myeol Sa Army before. Rally forces, wage war, accept losses as inevitable.
Cruel, ruthless. Black path extremes forged his ferocity.
But regression stabilized his heart. Family centered this positive shift.
Positive... Yes, humane living means this change is good.
Gazing at clear skies, Yeon Hojeong's eyes deepened darkly.
Should I defend their invasion as a man... or become that era's monster?
Then Jegal A-yeon spoke.
"Sis."
"Yes?"
"Hehe, off-duty now."
"Ah..."
Muk Bi flustered. Jegal A-yeon's familiarity still burdened.
"What'll you do inside? Rest today?"
"Th-that's the plan..."
"Not too tired? Drink with me?"
"Drink?"
Muk Bi paled slightly. Last hangover soured her on alcohol. Inner energy purged it, but the ache and haze repulsed.
But Jegal A-yeon's sparkling eyes made refusal hard.
"...If moderately."
"Umhahhaha! Great! Greet Dad quick, then go! You must drink!"
"Ung."
Grinning Jegal A-yeon eyed Yeon Hojeong. He blinked innocently.
Her face soured.
"Why? Join us?"
"Right mind? Know what I'd suffer drinking with you?"
"Damn punk."
"Public now."
"Private, jerk!"
Yeon Hojeong resolved strict discipline on reassembly.
Paeng Manho sidled up slyly.
"Then me?"
"Sleep."
"One drink, bro."
"No 'bro,' punk!"
Rowdy return. Pretending nonchalance, Muk Bi, Jegal A-yeon, Paeng Manho buzzed with long-awaited rest.
Laughing and chattering, they reached Mu Rim Meng's outer walls.
"Myeol Sa Army Leader Yeon Hojeong?"
Yeon Hojeong turned. Beside Cheong Ryong Dae Gate stood a stern-faced middle-aged man.