Stop the political struggle.

It was not a statement you heard every day. Yeon Hojeong had never even imagined Abbot Gonggong would put words like that in his mouth.

After staring at Abbot Gonggong for a moment, Yeon Hojeong smiled and asked,

“So you said you bestowed instruction on Commander Mo Yong?”

It was an out-of-the-blue question, but Abbot Gonggong answered °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° with ease.

“I did.”

“So before the deployment, you meant to give gifts to the leaders of both Field Forces.”

“That was my intention, yes. But it seems it would’ve been a gift you didn’t need. Commander Mo Yong has also formed a household, but you’re different. You haven’t reached full completion yet, but it already feels like you’ve finished your own school.”

He wasn’t talking about the Four Spirit Arts.

The point was how you refined what you learned into something that was yours. Even with the same martial arts, the power and the way they were used could be wildly different depending on the person.

“You seemed like someone who already knows what you have to do to keep improving.”

It was a sharp eye.

That kind of eye wasn’t something you gained just by learning good martial arts. It was insight you earned only after countless battles—after facing an unthinkable number of masters.

Shaolin. A legend of the Orthodox Path, called the greatest in the Central Plains in both Buddhism and the Martial Way.

It really did feel like you didn’t become the abbot of a sect like that by accident.

THUD.

Yeon Hojeong set Mad Dragon (Axe) down like it weighed nothing and shook his head.

“I didn’t get to see the true martial arts of Your Reverence, but it was still an impressive spar. Thank you.”

A strange light flashed in Abbot Gonggong’s eyes.

It wasn’t about “Shaolin’s real arts” or “ultimate techniques.” Yeon Hojeong had deliberately called it the Abbot’s martial art.

It was a subtle difference, but when Abbot Gonggong met Yeon Hojeong’s deep gaze, he became certain the man had already noticed.

“Could you see it?”

“Pardon?”

“My martial art.”

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

“I can’t say I understand it clearly, but it felt like you were refining something separately.”

“Ho ho.”

“Of course, it must still be Shaolin’s martial art. But...”

“But?”

Yeon Hojeong rubbed his chin.

After sinking into thought for a moment, he tilted his head and said,

“Are you planning to gather Shaolin’s martial arts into a complete whole... or even create something new?”

Surprise rose on Abbot Gonggong’s face.

“What made you think that?”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Hoh!”

“When anything reaches its extreme, it returns to fundamentals. But Your Reverence’s martial art carried a principle that’s hard to put into words—inside something simple.”

Yeon Hojeong extended a fist.

BANG!

A single, disciplined punch. The air across the clearing shuddered.

“Principle becomes power. Power is release, and release is manifestation. And inside manifested martial arts, a person’s thought and enlightenment inevitably seep through.”

“So you looked at the Martial Way I manifested... and read my intent.”

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

Abbot Gonggong admired him from the heart.

“No one inside the temple realized my dream, and yet the greatest rising star of this generation—born and raised in Gangdong—recognized it.”

“Didn’t you do the same, Your Reverence?”

“Hm?”

“Calling me and Commander Mo Yong out and sparring with us. It wasn’t simply to give gifts. You wanted to know the sincerity contained inside the martial arts we manifest—wasn’t that why?”

“...!”

“Then did you read my sincerity?”

After watching Yeon Hojeong in silence, Abbot Gonggong let out a sigh.

“I thought you were a hidden dragon waiting for the moment to ascend... but were you already a fully grown divine dragon?”

“You overrate me.”

“You’re not overrated. Truly, you’re not. Your martial arts are one thing, but your insight was already debating the world itself.”

“That’s why it’s an overrating.”

“Why?”

“Because my eyes aren’t aimed at the world. They’re aimed at people.”

Abbot Gonggong sighed as if burdened.

“Aimed at people...”

Yeon Hojeong clasped his fists in salute.

“I don’t have some grand heart that lives to save the world. But I’m at least someone who knows how to protect my own blood. Don’t worry too much.”

“Ho ho ho.”

“Then.”

CLANK!

Yeon Hojeong hoisted Mad Dragon (Axe) onto his shoulder and turned away. Somehow, the way he moved looked oddly unburdened.

As he slowly walked off, Abbot Gonggong spoke.

“And your answer?”

Yeon Hojeong stopped.

“What answer do you mean?”

“I asked you to stop the political struggle with Clan Lord Mo Yong.”

“Didn’t you call us because you wanted to know what was in the hearts of the leaders of the Demon-Sweeping & Evil-Smiting Field Forces?”

“Of course that was my main purpose.”

“If you achieved that purpose, isn’t that enough?”

“So what’s your answer?”

Yeon Hojeong turned back.

Abbot Gonggong’s eyes were still clear and deep, but there was a trace of chill inside them.

“Before I answer, may I ask one thing?”

“Go on.”

“How did you know?”

Abbot Gonggong burst into a booming laugh.

“You’ve never attended the Councilors’ Meeting, so you wouldn’t know—but during meetings, I tend to open my ears more than my mouth.”

“......”

“You’re remarkably good at pinpointing an opponent’s weakness. They say when the weak strive to kill the strong, they start seeing things.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m the same. I’m not skilled at politics. I was simply busy observing who led the meetings, and what they wanted.”

Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue softly.

“Your Reverence’s eye is no ordinary thing, either—if you saw that from observation alone.”

“I suspected it before. Even so—one of the Six Great Clans’ clan lords waging a fight against a rising star who hasn’t even fully bloomed yet? Common sense says that’s impossible. If it were Clan Lord Je Gal, maybe. But otherwise...”

Abbot Gonggong shook his head.

“But after seeing Abbess Bokho’s reaction this time, I could be sure. That my thinking was correct.”

“......”

“Clan Lord Mo Yong and you are fighting fiercely. Your fight is shaking the Alliance of the Martial World—an enormous organization—down to its foundations.”

He really was an extraordinary man.

Common sense created fixed ideas. If something outside common sense happened, it meant those fixed ideas had already been broken.

In other words, Abbot Gonggong had read the covert blood duel between Yeon Hojeong and Mo Yonggun simply by observing people and reading the flow of the times.

Yeon Hojeong wore a faint smile.

“You’re incredible.”

“I didn’t bring it up to be praised. I simply don’t want a fight.”

Abbot Gonggong lowered his chin and looked steadily at Yeon Hojeong.

“Stop the political struggle now.”

“Is that a warning?”

It was a provocative question.

“If I call it a warning, you’ll stop—and if I don’t, you’ll continue?”

“Of course not.”

“Then it’s a meaningless question.”

“It has meaning.”

“Why?”

“If it’s a warning, then I think I’ll have to drag Your Reverence into the political struggle I’m waging.”

Abbot Gonggong’s eyes flashed.

“You understand that’s a dangerous thing to say.”

“From the moment I stepped into this board, I wagered my life. If one more arrow gets added to a battlefield where spears and blades are already flying, what’s new about that?”

Abbot Gonggong let out a heavy sigh.

“Why, exactly, are you fighting him?”

“Because I believe he must not become the Alliance Leader.”

“W-what?”

He hadn’t expected an answer like that.

Startled, Abbot Gonggong asked,

“You’re saying Clan Lord Mo Yong is aiming for the position of Alliance Leader?”

“You knew he and I were locked in a political struggle, but you never wondered why that struggle started?”

“......”

“Clan Lord Mo Yong is capable. But he’s also the kind of man who can’t be satisfied unless he’s the best. Until he climbs to a place that satisfies him, he won’t even blink at innocent people being sacrificed.”

“Then... the reason you oppose Clan Lord Mo Yong is to stop him from becoming the Alliance Leader?”

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

“There are multiple reasons, but yes. That’s one of them.”

It was a strange answer.

Because it wasn’t crisp, it could only feel stifling to the listener.

“Ha...”

Abbot Gonggong’s laugh was hollow.

“Clan Lord Mo Yong is aiming to become the Alliance Leader... Then the reason Clan Lord Je Gal proposed the Deputy Alliance Leader position, too...”

“I don’t think concentrated power is a good thing. Whoever becomes the Alliance Leader, there should be a means to keep them in check.”

“The Alliance of the Martial World has capable leadership—Councilors and others.”

“And it also has someone trying to pull that leadership onto his side.”

“...!”

“No system can be perfect. I’ll only say this: right now, this was the best option available.”

In the past, when Mo Yonggun became the Alliance Leader, Dang Gwan became Deputy Alliance Leader with him.

And the person who created that Deputy Alliance Leader position was Mo Yonggun himself.

That couldn’t be allowed.

A position and an office should be created not to plant your own people, but to prevent dictatorship as much as possible.

Even if it was the same title, it depended on who made it, when, and why.

Abbot Gonggong’s eyes deepened.

“If... Clan Lord Mo Yong gives up on becoming the best?”

“......”

“If that happens, would you stop as well?”

Yeon Hojeong shook his head.

“Mo Yonggun won’t stop. No matter who tries to stop him.”

“......”

“If you truly want to prevent his rampage, then kill him. That’s the only way.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then my political struggle has no choice but to continue.”

“That’s why I said if. If Clan Lord Mo Yong abandons ambition, what will you do?”

Yeon Hojeong smiled lightly.

“From that point on, we’d start by binding the Alliance of the Martial World together—and we’d devote ourselves to gathering the Orthodox Path into one strength.”

A smile touched Abbot Gonggong’s face.

“That answer is truly pleasant to hear.”

“Is it.”

“I understand your intent well.”

Yeon Hojeong spoke inwardly.

You don’t, Your Reverence.

“Today’s spar was truly enjoyable. If the chance comes, let’s share hands again sometime.”

*****

Three days later.

KURURURUNG!

The north gate of the Alliance of the Martial World—the Black Tortoise Great Gate—opened.

Between the opened gates, a thunderous voice rang out.

“Demon-Sweeping & Evil-Smiting Combined Army—DEPLOY!”

RUMBLE.

The pounding of hooves shook the earth like thunder.

Five hundred and fifty elite martial artists advanced as a combined force. And at the very front, Yeon Hojeong and Mo Yonggun rode side by side.

It wasn’t just the two of them. Every soldier riding out sat atop a majestic warhorse.

FLASH!

The Demon-Sweeping Corps all wore antique-looking armor.

It wasn’t heavy armor, but light armor—thoroughly modified for mobility, like it wouldn’t interfere no matter what martial arts you used.

The Evil-Smiting Corps, on the other hand, wore no armor at all. They looked exactly as they normally did, and while they didn’t have the same imposing splendor as the Demon-Sweeping Corps, their presence felt natural.

Mo Yong-woo, eyes forward, asked,

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

“The spar with the Abbot.”

“It was exhilarating in a lot of ways.”

“I think I understand.”

“You trained the Demon-Sweeping Corps properly?”

“Training wouldn’t have meant anything this late. I only focused on gathering their hearts into one.”

“Good. Half-baked training would’ve gotten you nothing anyway.”

A quiet tension settled on Mo Yong-woo’s face.

“Have you finished everything you needed to do?”

Yeon Hojeong glanced back.

“I did what I could. Father and the other Councilors will handle the rest.”

“Let’s hope nothing happens.”

“Enough. Now we focus on our work.”

KURURURUNG!

The Black Tortoise Great Gate closed.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

“Want to start running?”

“Gladly.”

KURURURUNG!

Five hundred and fifty riders thundered down the mountain road, the vibration savage underhoof.

Their destination was Shandong Province.