Monochrome Sovereign [EN]: Chapter 640

Night fell.

The cloudy sky, with the moon’s light slightly diminished, spread hazily through the clouds.

Moyong Gun, looking at the moon through the window, spoke calmly.

‘Now it finally feels like the sky of Sichuan. With so many clouds, it’ll be gloomy tomorrow.’

The humidity was high.

Moyong Gun liked this humidity. His martial art was the Thunderclap Art of Yang [a martial art focused on explosive, yang-based energy], so he felt a sense of ease in a humid environment.

Moyong Gun touched his middle finger and thumb together and flicked them.

*Snap!* *Crack!*

Blue lightning flared up and then disappeared.

Having mastered a martial art based on lightning, this was to be expected, but lightning was an unforgivingly powerful force.

If he didn’t control his inner energy at his fingertips, the uncontrolled lightning would have scattered everywhere. Either way, Moyong Gun’s skill deserved praise.

Yet, Moyong Gun couldn’t be happy.

‘Is it enough?’

Moyong Gun’s eyes sank.

‘Am I truly living with enough effort?’

Lately, he had been thinking a lot about talent.

People’s talents varied greatly. Some were born with good minds, while others were born with physical talents.

Some were born with dexterity, while others had a talent for eloquence.

Even expanding the scope of talent, having good eyesight or a loud voice was also a talent. Having a good sense of smell or a refined sense of taste were also talents.

There were countless professions in human society, and the talents required were just as diverse.

That’s why discovering and developing one’s own talent was important. Succeeding in a world of those with greater talents than oneself was as difficult as plucking a star from the night sky.

So, what talent was required of a martial artist?

‘…I don’t know.’

Moyong Gun closed his eyes.

‘I don’t know anymore.’

Talent for quickly advancing in martial arts?

Of course, that was a great talent. But even that talent needed to be subdivided.

Talent for copying a martial art exactly as it was seen, talent for having good reflexes for evasive maneuvers, talent for having great strength for simple and straightforward attacks, talent for accumulating inner energy well, talent for breaking down stances, talent for seeing weaknesses…

The list would be endless. Depending on how many of these talents one was born with, and the level of those talents, the position one could reach would differ.

Sometimes, there were people who said that effort could overcome talent.

‘Bullshit.’

Effort was a given.

They said to put in twice the effort to beat a genius. Then, if a genius trained for eight hours a day, did that mean a commoner had to train for sixteen hours? There were only twelve hours in a day.

Even if they reduced it to ten hours, when would they sleep? Rest was as important as training. The need for rest decreased as one’s level increased, but it didn’t mean that sleep and nutrition were completely unnecessary.

In other words, it was impossible to surpass a genius with the quantity of effort.

Then, could one surpass them by putting in qualitative effort rather than quantitative?

That was even more ridiculous. There was no way a commoner could match the quality of a genius.

Those who said such things would often belittle the efforts of others, claiming that they could win if they tried. Even though it was practically impossible to match the efforts of others.

In the end, the martial world was a world for the talented. It was harsh, but that was the reality.

‘…But.’

Moyong Gun opened his eyes.

Confusion clouded his face.

‘Have I even seen the end of effort?’

Even if he was twisted, Moyong Gun was quite honest with himself.

He knew the extent of his talent. The reason he respected but didn’t revere the Thirteen Seats of the Saintly Heavens [a group of legendary martial artists] was because he was confident that he would reach that realm himself.

The problem was timing.

‘If I live like this, when will I ever reach the same level as him?’

Moyong Gun was clear about what he wanted to achieve.

The leader of the Martial Alliance, the pinnacle of power in the martial world.

Some said it was only the pinnacle of the White Path [a term for the orthodox martial arts world] and didn’t include the Black Path [a term for the unorthodox martial arts world], but the Black Path had only risen to prominence because of Yang Cheon. In reality, the most powerful figure in the martial world was the leader of the Martial Alliance.

To become the leader of the Martial Alliance, there were many things to do. He had to prove his strength as a martial artist, have a good character, and have many followers for influence.

To have followers, he needed money, and to make money, he had to start businesses.

There was a mountain of things to do. Moyong Gun was silently and diligently doing all of those things without anyone knowing.

What about his martial arts?

Moyong Gun’s martial arts were so strong that he could be counted among the top figures, even compared to the leaders of the Nine Great Sects [major martial arts organizations], let alone the Six Great Clans [influential martial arts families]. He never forgot that he was a martial artist and devoted himself to training whenever he had the chance.

In other words, in all aspects except for character and personality, he was the closest to being the leader of the Martial Alliance. Moyong Gun himself thought so.

However.

‘Even if I become the leader of the Martial Alliance as I am now, will I truly be able to wield power as I desire?’

Humans had developed culture, created morals and laws, and risen to a higher position than other creatures.

Nevertheless, the basic principles of human society were no different from the animal world.

Power.

Even if one faced injustice, one needed power to correct it. One needed power to not be ignored, and one needed power to maintain authority.

Especially for martial artists, practical power was more important than influence or authority.

However, until two weeks ago, it wasn’t such an important issue.

The Thirteen Seats of the Saintly Heavens, who were at the forefront of practical power, were figures of the past and rarely participated in the politics of the present. They were, in the first place, people from another world.

But everything changed when Yeon Ho-Jeong opened the Limitless [a legendary state of martial arts mastery].

Finally, someone among the current generation had opened the Limitless. Moreover, that person was someone Moyong Gun considered his lifelong rival, and absurdly, he was even younger.

‘This won’t do.’

The Three Teachings [a reference to Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism]? Power? War?

None of that mattered.

Due to Yeon Ho-Jeong, the landscape of the current martial world had changed once again. To get ahead in that landscape, his current martial prowess was woefully inadequate.

‘I need power. I need power in my sword, in my fists. To become the best, not just one of the leading group, I must become stronger no matter what.’

The many things he had been doing to become the most powerful figure in the martial world.

He had to stop them now.

He had to train like a madman to maximize his talent. Otherwise, even if he became the leader, it would be meaningless.

‘So, this moment has come in my life.’

To think positively, opening the Limitless was probably impossible with moderate training.

He had to accept it as a good thing. He had to return to the time when he first held a sword, when he thought that only physical strength could win everything.

Moyong Gun sincerely intended to live that way. He accepted that the moment had come to entrust what he had achieved to his people and immerse himself in training worth risking his life for.

*Swoosh.*

As he drew his sword, the sword trembled, reflecting the dim moonlight.

Moyong Gun’s eyes deepened.

‘You must be wanting it too.’

How much time had passed?

*Swoosh.*

Moyong Gun, who had sheathed his sword, spoke calmly.

‘Come in.’

*Click.*

The door opened, and a person appeared.

It was Tang Gwan.

Moyong Gun smiled. The serious expression from a moment ago was nowhere to be seen.

‘I didn’t expect you to come in person.’

Tang Gwan said bluntly.

‘Even if I dislike you, I received help, so I thought I should come at least once.’

‘Haha.’

Even though it was within his own family, he was a very honest person.

Moyong Gun was envious of Tang Gwan’s honesty.

Tang Gwan was also someone who harbored the desire to become the best.

It wasn’t easy for such a person to be so honest. Whether it was because of his environment or something else, he felt that he was a very different person from himself.

‘Sit down.’

The two sat facing each other at the table.

Tang Gwan said stiffly.

‘Thank you for helping with the situation at the main family.’

Moyong Gun chuckled.

‘Are you really grateful? Your tone is terrible.’

‘You know it’s hard to say thank you to someone you dislike.’

‘I know. I know it well.’

‘I tried to think of it separately, but it wasn’t easy. Still, thank you.’

Moyong Gun, who had been quietly looking at Tang Gwan, shook his head.

‘There’s no need for that.’

‘Hmm?’

‘It’s not because it’s not a sincere thank you. I actually didn’t do much.’

‘…’

‘I did help. But even if another expert had come instead of me, it would have been the same. It’s not because of me, but because of Yeon Dae-Su.’

Tang Gwan’s eyes flashed.

‘Because of Yeon Ho-Jeong.’

He wasn’t the type of person to say such things.

‘I don’t know. But…’

At least he knew one thing. Whether it was sincere or empty words, it wouldn’t have been easy for Moyong Gun to say such things in front of him.

Tang Gwan said as if throwing it away.

‘You look rather pathetic.’

Moyong Gun’s smile became bitter.

‘I was thinking about my limits.’

‘…’

‘Isn’t it the same for the Tang Clan Head [the leader of the Tang family]? A junior from our children’s generation has surpassed us and reached the heavens. Even if we have a close relationship, it can’t be easy to be purely happy.’

Tang Gwan nodded.

‘Of course, it is.’

It was a frank admission.

Moyong Gun nodded.

‘If you’re a martial artist, you should be able to feel jealousy even in the face of your own child’s achievements. How much more so for the achievements of others who are not even related by blood.’

‘…’

‘I have many thoughts.’

Tang Gwan tilted his head.

‘You don’t seem like yourself.’

‘Is that so?’

‘It’s shocking. To open the Limitless at that age, I’m sure it’s the first time in the history of the martial world.’

‘That’s not important. What’s important is now.’

‘Of course, it is.’

Moyong Gun, who had sighed, changed his expression again.

‘So, what brings you here? It doesn’t seem like you came just to say thank you.’

‘I did come to say thank you. However, I don’t intend to just exchange pleasantries and end it.’

Tang Gwan took out a small pouch from his chest and handed it to Moyong Gun.

‘What is this?’

‘It’s a Poison Pill.’

‘…?’

‘It’s a poison pill, but it’s an extreme poison that is extremely focused on Yang [a concept in Chinese philosophy representing active, masculine energy].’

‘…’

‘Normally, it’s used as a poison, but depending on how it’s handled, it can also become a panacea [a cure-all].’

Moyong Gun’s eyes flashed.

Tang Gwan continued.

‘I’d like to give you a proper panacea, but we’re short on panaceas for the main family’s business. Tang Ho, that guy, has been scattering them everywhere.’

‘…’

‘As I said, it’s a poison, but depending on how you use it, you can achieve unimaginable things. Of course, you might not gain anything. You might even die.’

‘…’

‘I had many concerns, but this was the only thing I could give you appropriately. It’s a token of my sincerity, so I hope you’ll accept it.’

Tang Gwan got up from his seat.

‘Then.’

It seemed that was all he had come for. There was not a moment of hesitation in his action of turning around.

Moyong Gun opened his mouth.

‘If.’

‘…’

‘If I take this poison pill and become much stronger than I am now, wouldn’t you be upset?’

‘I would be.’

Tang Gwan turned to look at Moyong Gun.

‘At the same time, it could be the result of strengthening an ally who extremely hates the Three Teachings.’

‘…!’

‘I’m leaving.’

With those words, Tang Gwan left the room.

Moyong Gun, looking down at the poison pill, sighed.

‘This guy or that guy…’