Chapter 256. The Time of the Freezing Wind (6)
“Brother.”
“It's been a while.”
Moyong Gun's eyes widened as he smiled at Mo Yong Woo.
“I heard at the council that you'd broken through to Mujongjibyeok. Honestly, I was skeptical, but you've truly achieved it!”
Mo Yong Woo bowed his head.
“It's all thanks to you, brother. Without Geon Gon Mu Hae, I could never have dreamed of reaching Mujongjibyeok.”
“Foolish boy. If Mujongjibyeok were a realm one could cross merely by mastering a martial art, the world would be overflowing with transcendent masters.”
Moyong Gun was genuinely pleased.
“Well done. Truly well done. I believed in you, but I never imagined you'd progress this quickly. As expected of my brother.”
Hearing about something and witnessing it firsthand were worlds apart.
Moyong Gun burst into laughter repeatedly, delighted by his brother's growth.
Watching him, Mo Yong Woo felt an indescribable turmoil.
Brother.
Yeon Hojeong had no reason to lie to him. Spouting a lie that would inevitably be exposed would only erode trust.
That meant his brother had truly driven an innocent man to his death.
Just how far do you intend to go?
Among the high echelons of the martial world, Moyong Gun wasn't the only one who'd killed the innocent for personal gain. He was even a cold-blooded man who'd cast out his own blood brothers for power. His youngest brother—himself—had merely been exiled to the Zhejiang branch, but the others had all met tragic ends, either dead or utterly ruined.
That was the man Moyong Gun was.
Mo Yong Woo knew it full well, which was why he'd planned to oust him and lead the Moyong family onto the righteous path.
But to think he'd commit such an act again...
I was too complacent.
Mo Yong Woo gave a bitter smile.
Drunk on the brotherly bond I'd never known, I failed to see what I should have seen clearly.
There was no need to blame Moyong Gun anew. He'd known from the start what kind of man his brother was.
Now it's my turn to play properly, brother.
A steely resolve hardened in Mo Yong Woo's eyes, once filled with bitterness.
I'm prepared to wade into this muddy quagmire without hesitation.
At that moment, Moyong Gun asked,
“Hm? But your expression doesn't look good. Are you unwell somewhere?”
His brother's face gazed at him with concern. A man who spared no means for his goals, who deemed ethics and morality worthless—yet one who would gladly offer his own organs to those he cherished.
Mo Yong Woo bowed his head. He couldn't bring himself to meet his brother's eyes straight on.
“No, brother. I'm just relieved now that you've returned safely.”
“Hahaha! Fool, do you think your foolish brother is so easy a mark to fall anywhere?”
Though he spoke those words, Moyong Gun's face brimmed with satisfaction. His daughter might have been ruined by her meeting with this taciturn brother, but now this steadfast sibling was truly his own. He'd even offered her up for the deal with Yang Cheon.
Many had joined hands with him, but how many worried for him with such pure sincerity?
That made him all the more precious—and all the more wary.
How could I not know the sincerity in your worried heart? Yet this beastly nature of mine, which trusts not even blood kin, won't let me view that sincerity with unadulterated purity.
Mo Yong Woo wouldn't betray him. He'd believe in and follow him as always.
Even so, Moyong Gun wouldn't let his guard down. The betrayal of a trusted ally was far more terrifying than any assault from the Sacred Heaven Thirteen Seats.
As his trust in Mo Yong Woo deepened, so too did his vigilance toward him tighten.
“In any case, with my brother breaking through to Mujongjibyeok and becoming a once-in-a-generation master, how can we not raise a cup? Let's have a drink after so long.”
“You've had a tiring journey...”
“Heh heh, no matter how weary I am, how could I let this vibrant moment of joy pass? Or do you have other business?”
“...No.”
Mo Yong Woo smiled. It was a confident smile, forged solid by genuine brotherly affection and unyielding resolve for the greater cause.
“Truth be told, I was the one eager to propose a drink first.”
“Hahaha! Good! Let's drink!”
Moments later, the two sat facing each other across a table laden with drink.
As Moyong Gun filled Mo Yong Woo's cup, he said,
“I didn't look into the details, but from what I heard from the alliance folk, opinions on the later-generation talents have completely shifted.”
“What do you mean?”
“After the great young masters of the famed families were imprisoned, the martial world's top later-generation talents were reduced to One Dragon Three Phoenixes. In other words, those four youthful figures are now recognized as the finest young leaders of the next generation.”
Mo Yong Woo replied calmly,
“There's a flaw in that statement. Doesn't the Myeol Sa Army Commander, the youngest ever to reach Mujongjibyeok, exist?”
Moyong Gun nodded.
“Byeok San's Yeon Hojeong, Commander of the Myeol Sa Army. But people are awed by his existence even as they regard him warily. One who deviates so far from the norm invites envy over praise.”
“Indeed.”
Mo Yong Woo had experienced it firsthand. He smiled faintly.
Moyong Gun continued in a jovial tone,
“But another genius beyond norms has shaken the martial world once more. And that is you.”
“Truthfully, it's nothing comparable to Commander Yeon. The age gap between us...”
“The key is that both you and Yeon Hojeong are still framed as later-generation talents.”
A subtle anticipation gleamed in Moyong Gun's eyes.
“When a single transcendent genius emerges, people grow wary and jealous. But when they come in multiples, the world is forced to acknowledge them.”
“I see.”
“Hosin Twin Seats.”
“Pardon?”
“They call Tang Ma Army Commander Mo Yong Woo the Geon Gon Ho Jang, the mightiest swordsman among the later-generation talents of our era. And Myeol Sa Army Commander Yeon Hojeong the Byeok San Ho Jang, the supreme warrior of the next generation.”
“Such nicknames have already taken hold?”
“It's a rumor circulating within the alliance. Once it spreads among the members, soon the entire martial world will echo with that resounding fame.”
Moyong Gun let out another hearty laugh.
“Though it's regrettable that Yeon Hojeong stands at that lofty height alongside you, how can I not rejoice that you've become the martial world's pinnacle?”
Geon Gon Ho Jang Mo Yong Woo.
And Byeok San Ho Jang Yeon Hojeong.
The two commanders of the alliance's first elite vanguard units were now hailed side by side as the unrivaled later-generation peaks of the strong world.
Mo Yong Woo felt an odd dizziness settle in.
“It's too grandiose. My skills still fall short of Commander Yeon's.”
“I know. No one appreciates that monster Yeon Hojeong's prowess better than I. But with your talent and effort so outstanding, soon you'll wield power rivaling his.”
“...I must.”
“Moreover, people see only what they wish to see. Though your skills may lag a step behind Yeon Hojeong's, you're already grouped in the same league. In the end, they'll view you two as equals.”
Mo Yong Woo shook his head.
“Regardless of how others see me, shortcomings are shortcomings. I can only refine myself ceaselessly.”
“A proper mindset. But you know as well as I: rumors and fame can become lethal weapons depending on how they're wielded.”
Moyong Gun's eyes sparkled.
“And conveniently, the alliance leader election is next year.”
“...!”
“With you blazing as the strongest later-generation talent at such a time, won't I benefit from your glory too?”
Mo Yong Woo smiled.
“If my fame aids you, brother, that's more than enough for me.”
“Kuhahaha! Foolish boy, that's exactly it. It'll greatly benefit me and the main family, but ultimately, it's the best for you.”
Moyong Gun nodded with satisfaction.
“You've worked hard. Truly hard. I'm proud of you.”
“...Thank you.”
Mo Yong Woo knew: had he not demonstrated sufficient ability, his brother would never have cherished him.
Proud? It was praise that sent chills down his spine with gratitude.
Yet Mo Yong Woo was no longer swayed by Moyong Gun's heartfelt praise or satisfied expression.
“Brother.”
“Speak.”
“Now that you've returned, the alliance will shake once more.”
“Heh heh heh, if my mere presence can rattle the alliance, that's something to boast about.”
“And as you said, the alliance leader election begins next year.”
Moyong Gun's eyes gleamed.
“So?”
“I don't know the details, but I know you've made extensive preparations for the election.”
“Of course.”
Mo Yong Woo spoke with grave seriousness.
“Now that you're back, isn't it time for me to truly earn my keep?”
“What do you mean?”
“Entrust me with any task. No matter what it is, I won't bring shame to your face.”
Mo Yong Woo, now resolved to step into the muddy fray.
Feeling that determination vividly, Moyong Gun's heart swelled with even greater pride.
“I had just the task in mind for you.”
Shiiiik!
The heavy sword cleaved through the air at terrifying speed.
It was a swordsmanship that even felt lighthearted.
Not infused with inner energy to unleash sword force, nor bound by rigid forms—yet it displayed fearsome sword intent through sheer speed and weight alone.
It's not enough.
Anxiety flickered across Gang Ryang's face.
I don't know what it is, but it's still lacking.
After entering the alliance, he'd holed up in his quarters for a full day.
Out of sheer tension.
No matter his ties to high-ranking alliance figures, he was a later-generation talent from the black path's foremost prestigious house.
And now he'd stepped into the heart of what he'd always seen as enemy territory—the core of the foe.
His emotions were inevitably tangled.
But that passed quickly. Gang Ryang was innately active by nature. He wasn't the timid sort to cower, swallowing saliva in endless trembling.
In the end, he'd chosen martial practice.
He was different.
The most impressive martial display he'd witnessed lately was undoubtedly Yeon Hojeong's prowess.
Far more striking than even Paeryul's, who used the same sword style.
And it wasn't merely a difference in skill level.
He wields an ancient supreme art. Yet he doesn't rely on forms—instead, swinging his axe at the perfect moment to slay or repel foes, dominating the battlefield.
Gang Ryang's face flushed.
Not just from physical strain.
Even in abnormal condition, that man commanded the fight.
He wasn't a swordsman.
But Gang Ryang wanted to emulate him. That decisiveness, perfect mastery of his weapon, and ultimate insight into dominating battle.
Yeon Hojeong was several times greater a fighter, warrior, and soldier than Gang Ryang had imagined.
Thud!
The thick blade split a fairly thick tree clean in half.
Gang Ryang sighed.
“You idiot. Don't chop it like an axe—slice it.”
A self-directed reprimand.
Gang Ryang smacked his lips.
I wasn't focused properly. But that's part of my skill too. No excuses.
After a deep breath, Gang Ryang assumed his stance again.
This time, he'd concentrate fully.
That was when—
“What do you think, Father?”
“Hm.”
“Isn't he quite good?”
“More than quite—he's exceptional.”
“That much?”
“You tend to be too stingy in your judgments of people. There are many skilled later-generation talents in the alliance, but it's rare to find one with such solid fundamentals.”
Gang Ryang startled and glanced sideways.
Yeon Hojeong and Yeon Wi stood there before he knew it.
“Gah! Y-You?”
Yeon Hojeong scratched his head.
“He does look a bit foolish.”
“You brat, what do you say to my face?”
After lightly scolding Yeon Hojeong, Yeon Wi approached with keen interest.
“Pleased to meet you. I'm Ho Jeong's father.”
“...P-Pardon?”
“Yeon Wi, patriarch of the Byeok San Yeon family of this era.”
Gang Ryang's face paled.