The Dao Emperor's Return (2)
With hair as lush and flowing as clouds billowing around him, Dao Emperor Peng Wol made his appearance after several years.
"What in the world is this nonsense, Dao Emperor?!"
"Quiet."
"!!"
Sun Il-ho, the leader of the Yodong Seven Heroes who had shouted at the Dao Emperor, fell instantly silent, as if his mouth were glued shut.
"Is the Magyo so pathetic these days, or have the young ones grown arrogant from living in this age of peace? The sheer insolence."
No one—not even Sun Il-ho, a Hwagyeong master wielding his massive greatsword—could open their mouth under the Dao Emperor's piercing gaze and insulting words.
"Back when this one was in his prime, the Magyo scum rampant across the Central Plains didn't dare strut around calling themselves righteous warriors. Why? Because at night, the Magyo assassins would come for them."
"Th-that was...! Ancient history!"
"Ancient history. Yes, a distant past. A horrific era that should never return."
The Dao Emperor growled at the Yodong Seven Heroes.
"We ended that age and ushered in peace, yet you lot scream and threaten those who brought it about. How could this one stand idly by?"
"Th-threaten?! What do you...!"
"Forcing others to act by invoking 'righteousness' and 'chivalry'—that's even more vile than the Magyo rabble!"
"!!"
The eyes of the Yodong Seven Heroes shook violently. Those around them began subtly backing away, one by one, creating distance.
"Wh-what did you just...!"
"Your level is no different from that Cheonma of the Magyo!"
"What did you say!!"
"No matter how you dress it up with lofty phrases like 'puppy doesn't fear the tiger,' your rotten schemes are plain as day on your faces!"
The Dao Emperor's eyes blazed fiercely as he extended his hand to the side.
"I heard the Jeolmok Jeong was cured, so you came hoping to marry into the Moyong family, didn't you?!"
"Y-you...!"
"Even the Magyo dogs wouldn't stoop that low!"
"How dare you!"
Somewhere, words rang out that would baffle any elder.
"Insulting us like that?!"
No. Had the Yodong Seven Heroes lost their minds? Acting like that against the Dao Emperor?
They were all at least over forty—either too young to remember the Magyo's rampage or born after its end. They didn't grasp the vast gap in stature.
"Tsk tsk. The prestige of the White Path martial world has risen—who do you think that's thanks to? Vermin lower than bugs, mistaking it for your own merit and running wild."
A razor-sharp blade of energy erupted from the Dao Emperor's hand.
"This one will handle it."
The blade gleamed with murderous intent, honed to perfection, and the Dao Emperor swung it slowly once.
"Today, this one will strip you of your martial arts."
Shwick.
A single slash. Yet it spread sideways in an instant, splitting into seven streams.
Pfook!
With the sound of something piercing flesh, all seven youths dropped to their knees.
"Guh... guhuk...?"
"Rest easy. No wounds."
The onlookers gasped in shock. The Dao Emperor's slash had clearly passed through the Yodong Seven Heroes' lower abdomens, yet no blood sprayed, no bodies were impaled.
But they collapsed all the same. In the blink of an eye, all seven knelt and tumbled down.
"Guh... guhuk...!"
Spitting blood from their mouths.
"Th-this...!"
"Merely."
The Dao Emperor flicked his hand dismissively, stepping past the fallen heroes to stand before the Moyong Family estate's main gate.
"Sliced your dantians."
"!!"
"Fools."
The Dao Emperor clicked his tongue and shook his head at the Yodong Seven Heroes—now no longer martial artists.
"While you squandered your youth, this one and the elders fought daily with Magyo assassins, wagering our lives. To use the arts you easily learned in the peace we built with blood to bully a hero's house... The ways of the jianghu have fallen to the dirt!"
No one could refute the lion's roar of his lament. The elders knew. That era he spoke of—how agonizing, how nightmarish, too horrific to recall. An age when the jianghu's code lay in ruins.
"The times... call for change."
The Dao Emperor stood before the Moyong Family's main gate.
"You there."
"Yes, Dao Emperor senior."
The Dao Emperor positioned himself before the guard at the gate, politely gesturing inside with a respectful tone.
"Not an invited guest, but I hear my son is inside speaking with your family head. Sorry for the unannounced visit—would you ask your lord if this old man may enter his friend's home?"
The Dao Emperor drew a white porcelain jar from his bosom and gave it a light shake, the liquid sloshing inside. He looked every bit the old friend arriving at a comrade's house with fine liquor.
[Enter.]
"!!"
A deep, resonant voice echoed from within the Moyong estate, and the main gate swung wide open.
The owner of that voice, the Sword Saint, was not there. Yet everyone at the gate had clearly heard it.
"Pl-please, enter."
"Very well. If you insist."
Just before the Dao Emperor patted the guard's shoulder and headed inside.
"No need to worry about them."
He glanced at the fallen Yodong Seven Heroes on the ground, smirking.
"Fools who charge in without knowing the gap in skill can't be called 'martial artists.' And they aren't anymore."
A destroyed dantian. All accumulated inner energy scattered, body forever unable to generate qi. Not killed, but dead to the jianghu.
"H-how...! How could you...!"
"Silence."
"!!"
"On a fine day like today, I simply had no taste for blood."
The Dao Emperor stroked his long dangling beard and tsked.
"Even if stained, how could I sully myself with the blood of wretches beneath the Magyo's Cheonma?"
"Guh... guhuk...!"
The Yodong Seven Heroes—former martial artists, now mere commoners—vomited blood and collapsed.
The Dao Emperor Peng Wol. Visiting the Moyong estate, he reemerged into the world by crippling the insolent Yodong Seven Heroes at its gates in a single stroke.
* * *
"Hm."
Dao Emperor Peng Wol hummed a tune as he strolled into the estate.
Moyong warriors and retainers stood before him to guide the way, but he followed memory down the corridors.
"Much changed since my last visit."
The Moyong warriors flinched at his mutter, but he waved them off and continued leisurely.
Yes. That was the gaze upon a Hyeongyeong master.
Those Yodong Seven Heroes pups didn't grasp the hierarchy, drunk on their swift ascent to lofty realms.
The top among them, a Hwagyeong at around thirty? Even in this accelerated era, that marked a genius among geniuses.
But so what? No respect for seniors, no reverence for the strong.
Dao Emperor had shown mercy by sparing their lives. Thirty years ago, heads would have rolled.
"Hoo."
He sighed deeply.
That hair of his. He'd long deserved such gazes, but without it, the world hadn't seen a Hyeongyeong's full majesty.
Had he attended events all these years, many would have gauged his level, hit a wall, and bowed.
Yet for the last decade or so, Hyeongyeong masters had no need to flex. He'd secluded himself, but a crisis would have drawn him out, hair or no.
"Not knowing how blessed a crisis-free peace is, daring to touch its symbols. Truly swollen guts."
No youthful bravado could excuse it.
Sighing in lament, he pressed on—
"......!!"
His steps halted.
The distance was far, but he sensed it clearly. Something approaching.
A single keen sword? Or the wind itself?
"Ha."
The Dao Emperor felt it. As a Hyeongyeong—and one facing a 'wall'—he detected it plainly.
"Long time, senior."
He faced him. The Sword Saint Moyong Cheon.
"...Now I see why you still hold the title 'Saint' of the sword. Were you hiding it before?"
"Not hiding. You've simply awakened to insight and now perceive it."
"...Me?"
"Clear the knots in your heart, and the world looks different, no?"
"......."
Whoosh.
The wind blew, sending the Dao Emperor's hair billowing wildly.
And in that wind, he saw.
"You've already transcended the Saengsa Gyeong. No... become nature itself?"
"......."
"I see. No, you could ascend to heaven's call anytime, yet you remain."
"No lingering regrets would mean leaving the jianghu, but mine are gone—along with reason to go."
"Missed your chance?"
"Not I. They regret it."
The Sword Saint pointed skyward and shrugged.
"Impressive. Thought I'd caught up, but you've been the heavens from the start."
"Nothing special. You can reach it too, senior."
"Thanks for the encouragement, Sword Saint."
The Dao Emperor clasped hands in salute toward the Sword Saint.
"So, lingering on earth instead of becoming Sword Immortal—is it for your daughter, after all?"
"Of course."
A thought flashed through the Dao Emperor's mind. If his daughter had died... would this Sword Saint remain?
But she lived, so no reason to forsake the world.
"Uhahaha. Right. To see the grandkids..."
"......."
"Oh dear."
The Dao Emperor saw it.
"I'm still 'senior' after all, it seems."
The moment grandchildren were mentioned, the Sword Saint's face twisted.
"Vent as you will. I've three daughters, after all."
"...Enter, senior."
To the Dao Emperor's eyes, the somewhat melancholic Sword Saint looked profoundly human. Just as he himself once had.