Cease the Power Struggle
"Cease the political strife."
It was no ordinary remark. Yeon Hojeong had never imagined Gong Gong-daesa would utter such words.
Watching the abbot silently, Yeon Hojeong smiled and asked, "Did you say you gave guidance to Moyong Gun?"
The seemingly out-of-place question drew a leisurely response from Gong Gong-daesa. "Indeed."
"So you planned to gift something to the leaders of the two vanguard units before departure."
"That was the intention, but it seems you had no need for such a gift. Moyong Gun has forged his own path, yet you are different still. You've yet to reach Peak realm, but it already feels as though you've completed your own unique style."
He wasn't referring to Sasinmu. The key lay in how one refined their mastered techniques into something uniquely their own. That was why the same martial art could vary wildly in power and application depending on the user.
"You seem like someone who already knows how to advance further."
It was a keen insight. Such perception wasn't born merely from mastering superior arts. It came from battling countless experts across a hundred wars.
Shaolin Temple. The myth of the orthodox martial world, supreme in both Buddhism and martial arts. The abbot of such a sect was no ordinary man.
Thud.
Yeon Hojeong carelessly set down Gwang Yong Bu and shook his head. "I haven't seen your true martial arts, Abbot, but it was an impressive spar. Thank you."
A glint flashed in Gong Gong-daesa's eyes. He hadn't spoken of Shaolin's ultimate techniques or secret arts. He'd specified his martial arts. A subtle distinction, but seeing the depth in Yeon Hojeong's gaze, the abbot was certain he'd noticed.
"You saw through it?"
"Pardon?"
"My martial arts."
Yeon Hojeong nodded. "I'm not entirely sure, but it felt like you cultivate something separately."
"Haha."
"Of course, that too must be a Shaolin art. However..."
"However?"
Yeon Hojeong stroked his chin thoughtfully, then tilted his head. "Are you perhaps compiling Shaolin's martial arts into a grand synthesis... or creating something entirely new?"
Surprise flickered across Gong Gong-daesa's face. "What makes you think that?"
"Just a feeling."
"Hoh!"
"In any realm, reaching the pinnacle means returning to the fundamentals. Yet your arts contain profound principles within their simplicity."
Yeon Hojeong thrust out a fist.
Bang!
It was a disciplined straight punch. The surrounding air churned violently.
"Truth is power. Power is projection, and projection embodies manifestation. Within that manifested martial art lies the practitioner's philosophy and enlightenment."
"So you discerned my intent in the martial path I manifested?"
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
Gong Gong-daesa was genuinely impressed. "No one within the temple has grasped my dream, yet the greatest young talent of the current era, born and raised in Gangdong, sees it clearly."
"Didn't you do the same with me?"
"Hm?"
"You called out Moyong Gun and me for a spar—not just to give gifts, but to glimpse the truths hidden within our manifested arts."
"...!"
"So, did you read my truth?"
Gazing steadily at Yeon Hojeong, Gong Gong-daesa sighed. "I thought you a latent dragon awaiting ascension, but you're already a fully matured divine dragon."
"That's too high a praise."
"It's not. Far from it. Your martial arts are one thing, but your insight already contends with the world itself."
"That's precisely why it's too much."
"Why?"
"Because my gaze is fixed not on the world, but on people."
Gong Gong-daesa sighed deeply. "On people..."
Yeon Hojeong clasped his hands in a fist salute. "I harbor no grand delusions of saving the world, but at least I know to protect my own blood and kin. Worry not."
"Hahaha."
"Then."
Clank!
Slinging Gwang Yong Bu over his shoulder, Yeon Hojeong turned away, his figure strangely unburdened.
As he walked off slowly, Gong Gong-daesa spoke. "Your answer?"
Yeon Hojeong halted. "To what?"
"I demanded you end the strife with Moyong family's head."
"Didn't you summon us to gauge the hearts of the Tang Ma Myeol Sa Army leaders?"
"That was the main purpose, yes."
"Then if you've achieved it, isn't that enough?"
"So, your answer?"
Yeon Hojeong turned back. Gong Gong-daesa's eyes remained clear and deep, yet carried a faint chill.
"One question before I reply?"
"Speak."
"How did you know?"
Gong Gong-daesa burst into hearty laughter. "You've never attended the council, so you wouldn't know, but I tend to keep my mouth shut and ears open during meetings."
"..."
"Your ability to pinpoint weaknesses is remarkable. Something about slaying the strong as the weak, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"I'm much the same. I'm no good at politics. I simply observe who leads the meetings and what they desire."
Yeon Hojeong smacked his lips. "To discern that much from mere observation—your insight is no trifle, Abbot."
"I've suspected before. A family head of the Six Great Clans clashing with an unflowered young talent? It defies common sense. Perhaps if it were Jeon Gak's head."
Gong Gong-daesa shook his head. "But the response to the Fuhuo incident confirmed it. My suspicions were right."
"..."
"You and Moyong family's head are locked in fierce combat. Your struggle shakes the entire vast Martial Alliance."
What an extraordinary man. Common sense bred preconceptions. Events beyond it shattered those biases. In other words, Gong Gong-daesa had discerned the shadow war between Yeon Hojeong and Moyong Gun simply by observing people and the currents of the age.
Yeon Hojeong smiled faintly. "Impressive."
"Not seeking praise. I simply desire no conflict."
Gong Gong-daesa lowered his chin, gazing intently at Yeon Hojeong. "End this political strife now."
"A warning?"
It was provocative.
"If it's a warning, will you stop? If not, continue?"
"Of course not."
"Then a meaningless question."
"It has meaning."
"Why?"
"If it is a warning, I may need to drag even you into my strife, Abbot."
Gong Gong-daesa's eyes gleamed. "You know that's dangerous talk."
"The moment I stepped into this game, my life was on the line. In a battlefield of flying blades, what's one more arrow?"
Gong Gong-daesa sighed. "What drives you to fight him?"
"I believe he must not become Martial Alliance Leader."
"What did you say?"
He hadn't expected that answer. Stunned, Gong Gong-daesa pressed, "You're saying Moyong family's head aims for Alliance Leader?"
"You knew of our strife—did you never wonder why?"
"..."
"Moyong Gun is capable. But he's the sort who won't settle for less than the pinnacle. Until he reaches a position that satisfies him, he won't blink at sacrificing the innocent."
"Then your opposition stems from blocking his path to Leader?"
Yeon Hojeong nodded. "Among complex reasons, yes—for now."
A cryptic reply. Its vagueness left the listener frustrated.
"Haha."
Gong Gong-daesa's laugh rang hollow. "Moyong family's head covets the Alliance Leader seat... Then Jeon Gak's head proposing the Vice-Leader position?"
"I believe concentrating power is unwise. No matter who becomes Leader, there must be checks."
"The Alliance has capable leaders like Bonggong."
"And someone trying to pull those leaders to his side."
"...!"
"No system is perfect. But for now, this is the best."
In his past life, when Moyong Gun became Alliance Leader, ally Dang Gwan took Vice-Leader. And Moyong Gun had created that very position.
It mustn't happen. Positions and institutions should curb tyranny, not embed one's own people.
Thus, even the same Vice-Leader role varied by who, when, and why it was made.
Gong Gong-daesa's eyes deepened. "If Moyong family's head abandons his bid for the top?"
"..."
"Would you then cease?"
Yeon Hojeong shook his head. "Moyong Gun won't stop. No matter who tries."
"..."
"If you truly wish to halt his rampage, Abbot, kill him. That's the only way."
"I cannot."
"Thus, my strife continues."
"Hence my 'if.' If he discards his ambitions, what then?"
Yeon Hojeong grinned. "Then we'd unite the orthodox paths, starting with Alliance solidarity."
A smile graced Gong Gong-daesa's face. "A fine answer to hear."
"Is it?"
"I understand your intent well."
You won't, Abbot, Yeon Hojeong thought inwardly.
"Today's spar was truly enjoyable. Let's cross hands again when opportunity arises."
* * *
Three days later.
Rumble!
The Martial Alliance's north gate, Hyeonmu Gate, swung open.
A booming voice echoed through the gates. "Tang Ma Myeol Sa Combined Army departs!"
Thundering hooves shook the earth like thunder.
It was the advance of 550 elite martial artists. Leading them rode Yeon Hojeong and Moyong Gun.
Not just them—all departing troops mounted majestic warhorses.
Flash!
The Tang Ma Army donned ornate light armor, refined for unhindered movement. No martial art would clash with it.
The Myeol Sa Army wore no armor, just their usual attire. Less imposing than Tang Ma, but utterly natural.
Moyong Woo, eyes fixed ahead, asked, "How was it?"
"What?"
"The spar with the Abbot."
"Thrilling in every way."
"I figured."
"You trained Tang Ma Army properly?"
"Last-minute drills were pointless. I focused solely on unifying their hearts."
"Good call. Half-hearted training yields nothing."
Tension subtly lined Moyong Woo's face. "All preparations done?"
Yeon Hojeong glanced back. "Enough. Father and the Bonggong will handle the rest."
"Hope all goes smoothly."
"Enough. Let's focus on our task."
Rumble!
Hyeonmu Gate closed.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed. "Shall we ride?"
"Yes."
Thundering hooves from 550 riders descended the mountain paths, shaking the ground fiercely.
Their destination: Shandong Province.