And then, footsteps echoed. A short, sharp tak.
A man with an unmistakably solid physique descended upon the mountain peak.
The thunderous force that had accompanied his fall had vanished without a trace. He had absorbed the impact of his descent with his internal energy control.
Only the wide, pink sleeves of his robe billowed in the wind, while he himself stepped forward as if merely out for a stroll.
Step.
The silence he brought seemed to take on a tangible form, spreading downward like an invisible swamp to the hills below.
At the base of the slope connected to the peak, the aftershock of his footwork surged forth as a fierce gust of wind. Blood, flesh, and bone fragments mixed with shattered stones, rolling downward. Further, and further still.
Few among the martial army had survived.
The sound of horses' hooves, unable even to carry a cry, struck the ground intermittently. The dull clack of their steps echoed hollowly.
Mounted warriors, each gripping a sword in one hand and reins in the other, remained silent.
On the faces of dozens, the solemn resolve had drained away. It was, quite literally, a look of utter shock. An entirely different expression had settled in its place.
The sword formation had collapsed, and even their charge had come to a halt.
It was inevitable.
The corpses of their comrades, slaughtered en masse, lay beside them. At this moment, their survival felt like a stroke of divine luck.
This was not something the warriors of the demonic faction should ever experience. The sight before them was beyond reality itself.
"...."
The enforced silence ran deep. No one was capable of speaking. At least, not among the mounted warriors.
But the absolute figure at the front was different.
"Who are you?"
The leader of the Profound Martial Alliance, Monarch of Infinite Swords, Gun Wi-hoo.
His white fur cloak, woven from the finest materials, whipped violently in the wind. At that moment, he floated a fraction above the ground, utilizing his Heavenly Void Step.
Even as the earth caved in with a heavy sound beneath his feet, his body remained loftily suspended.
Guguguung—
The ground trembled. It wasn't a reaction to the intruder's presence—it was the sheer force of Gun Wi-hoo's energy, causing the earth to cave in and then recoil.
The shock didn't stop at a single tremor. It was said that the peak of Radiant Concealed Arts could manifest even a landslide.
It was a power beyond reason. The explosion of his true energy, fueled by anger, had reached a realm where internal energy mastery could materialize illusions.
And yet, he did not attack without reason.
It was the nature of one hailed as the Monarch of Infinite Swords, a man whose entire being revolved around ensuring absolute victory.
Even when faced with an unforeseen existence, he remained the same. Understanding his opponent came first.
Only when Gun Wi-hoo stood unmoving did the remaining warriors of the Profound Martial Alliance finally release a long, held-in breath.
"I asked for your identity."
His interrogation continued. His voice was imposing. He was not merely seeking to recognize a face, which was not surprising.
Even among the greatest sect leaders in the world, whose names often graced the lips of the gossiping elite, personal acquaintance between them was rare.
They were too preoccupied with their own cultivation and sect affairs, and the world was vast. When leadership changed hands and decades passed, the disconnect only deepened.
The man in the pink robe finally spoke.
"Such an insolent way of speaking for a child."
Words aimed at none other than the leader of the Profound Martial Alliance.
"Wait right there."
A shocking display. His speech and demeanor, both.
Though his descent had been filled with fury, after a single flick of his hand, he no longer spared even a glance in Gun Wi-hoo's direction.
Instead, his gaze turned toward the clearing at the very peak of the mountain.
It was a glimpse into his true nature.
His priorities were clear. His obstinance bordered on arrogance.
And then—
"Yeonshin."
The man's voice softened.
"I can see that you have achieved something worthy of recognition. Your energy reminds me of refined steel, forged a hundred times over. It must be due to a unique secret technique of your own. I am quite curious."
"How...?"
Jung Yeonshin closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. He stood at the peak of the sloping path.
Even with Murong Zhongrak, the Star-Radiance Grand Sword Lord, standing right beside him with his sword lowered, he couldn't help but react this way.
Was it because, for a brief moment, the tension had dissipated? No, Murong Clan's leader was displaying a remarkable presence, no less striking than Gun Wi-hoo, the Profound Martial Alliance's leader.
Like Gun Wi-hoo, Murong Zhongrak had also reached the prime of his middle years when he first earned the title of a supreme master. Now, he gazed down at the intruder, his sharp eyes unwavering.
Yet, the old youth paid no heed.
"I heard a rumor that Zhuge Bastard's head flew off by your sword. When I read the documents containing his words and actions, my blood boiled with fury. But when I reached the parts about you, I spent several nights as if I were embracing a bamboo wife. I'm glad you survived. It seems I've gained an undeserved blessing in my old age."
Despite the youthful voice, the way he spoke carried an aged manner. And he directed his words solely toward the Radiant Demon Squad's leader.
It was different from how he had addressed Gun Wi-hoo. His tone was gentle, his words carrying the warmth of a grandfather telling a long story to his grandson.
'Ah.'
Even before the overwhelming presence of Murong Zhongrak, the Star-Radiance Grand Sword Lord, Radiant Demon Squad's leader hesitated for a brief moment. His lips parted slightly but no words came forth. Instead, he adjusted his grip on the Beiming's guard.
Desolate Fortress often awakened his sense of solitude, for it reminded him that he was not alone.
In his truly lonely childhood, he had not even known what it meant to feel emptiness or isolation.
Suddenly, a clan he had ties to flashed through his mind. Not the Jung Manor, nor the Ma Clan's estate, it was somewhere else entirely.
At this moment, there were few words he could bring himself to say.
The words that struggled to form in his throat finally escaped his lips, sounding no different from his usual voice.
"Have you been well all this time?"
"Of course. And you remain the same. That, too, is an oversight on my part..."
The man's words carried a dual meaning. He was referring both to the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's noticeably strengthened physique and to his unwavering nature that never showed signs of hardship.
It was an overly sentimental display, one that Radiant Demon Squad's leaders of this era found difficult to accept. If anything, it only stirred the stormy temperament within him.
Jung Yeonshin did not wish to see his grandfather's sorrowful expression. Anyone of his generation would feel the same.
So, he changed the subject. He focused entirely on the situation at hand, the Murong Clan's leader, and Gun Wi-hoo, and this perilous battlefield, one of the rarest in the world.
"I must face the Star-Radiance Grand Sword Lord. Even if I cannot cut him down..."
"Do as you will."
With his hands behind his back, Ma Yeonjeok nodded. His usually chilling expression melted into an oddly warm and affectionate smile.
"You must one day walk a broader path."
His grandfather spoke as he stood between the Murong Clan's leader and Gun Wi-hoo.
At the same moment, Jung Yeonshin's eyelids lowered slightly.
A strange sensation washed over him.
The barren wasteland was transforming into the marble dueling ground of Desolate Fortress.
He didn't need to hear it, he could feel his grandfather's thoughts reaching him.
'If not now, when will you have such an opportunity? The old man will be watching, so focus on refining your martial arts...'
It felt as if his crown was resonating with his grandfather's upper dantian.
Hwaaak—
A gust of wind swept past his feet. The air against his skin felt different now.
A faint warmth, a subtle hint of spring in the midst of the pale dust. Truly, it was the last breath of winter.
Below the slope, the mounted warriors of the Profound Martial Alliance, along with Gun Wi-hoo, raised their heads toward the peak.
At the summit stood Murong Zhongrak, the greatest warrior of Liangdong. And in the very center of it all, Ma Yeonjeok had brought everything to a halt.
Whoosh.
At that moment, the lingering winter sands settled.
What could have been a battlefield of the martial world had transformed into something else entirely. A dueling ground.
The air around them entered a peculiar state of deadlock.
Gun Wi-hoo, Monarch of Infinite Swords, remained silent, his gaze fixed solely on the intruder.
The mounted warriors of the Profound Martial Alliance dismounted one by one, forming a solemn line behind their leader.
The sound of boots stepping over the flesh of fallen comrades, the readiness to tread into death at a single command, it was a spirit worthy of the demonic faction.
Step.
Jung Yeonshin turned toward Murong Zhongrak.
His footsteps, brushing against the scattered stone fragments, no longer carried their previous eeriness.
"Who are you?"
The peerless swordsman of the Murong Clan asked, his back straight and unyielding.
For the Star-Radiance Grand Sword Lord was also one who defied the heavens.
The glint of sword-light flashed dark blue in his eyes, a testament to his unmatched insight.
With only a few words exchanged, he had already discerned Ma Yeonjeok's nature.
He had also grasped that the stranger's peculiar way of speaking was entirely natural.
Given just a little more time, he would surely deduce Ma Yeonjeok's identity. So, too, would Gun Wi-hoo.
"Was there ever such a man in Desolate Fortress? Aside from that whelp from the Divine Sword Order?"
The Murong Clan's leader twisted his sword ever so slightly as he asked, his tone casual. It meant his demeanor had not changed.
Perhaps it was simply his ingrained disposition. Even now, when it was obvious that he was at the greatest disadvantage in this three-way standoff, he remained at ease.
It was fitting for a supreme master among the noble clans of Murim.
Jung Yeonshin did not answer.
All he felt in his palm was the fully heated guard of the Beiming.
'It feels just like the first time.'
Until now, the Radiant Demon Squad's leader had never been at ease. He was constantly placed in unfavorable situations.
Ever since he ascended to black rank, he had felt the weight of responsibility as if he had become the head of a martial sect. From the perspective of a weaker warrior, he had only ever faced masters far older and stronger than himself, all while having to remain mindful of his allies.
Even fate itself had forced this upon him. It was why Lightning Genius' lineage had driven him to pursue the most extreme, short-lived exchanges.
But not now.
This was a real battle, yet he felt at ease.
His opponent was not a supreme master who had exhausted himself like Zhuge Clan's leader, yet the air surrounding Jung Yeonshin flowed with an unshaken calm.
He no longer regarded the leader of the Profound Martial Alliance as an enemy but as a spectator.
His mind was at peace, even with the Murong Clan's leader right before him.
"A most unexpected fortune."
Murong Zhongrak spoke.
"I came to acquire Body-Fortifying Energy, yet I will temper my Sword Arts as well."
"What?"
"It would be best if I quickly sever your head and move on to him. Now, come forward."
His words treated Jung Yeonshin as nothing more than a stepping stone.
It was said that among the absolute masters of Murim, there was none who was not madly obsessed with martial prowess.
Despite knowing he was the weaker one, his desire to cross swords burned toward Ma Yeonjeok.
He had no doubt he would not die. It was the confidence of a truly transcendent warrior, woven into the very tone of his voice.
"I have no time to dally with a half-grown child. Take the martial skill that slew Zhuge Cheonsang as your opening move."
"Are you stronger than the leader of the Zhuge Clan?"
Jung Yeonshin loosened his grip slightly on the Beiming's guard.
Murong Zhongrak smirked.
"What is the point of discussing the martial prowess of a man who lived and died as nothing more than a Reincarnated Dragon? In the end, he never ruled Shaanxi. From the beginning, he sought to make himself the Sword Saint's Zhaolie Emperor, playing at being Zhuge Liang, yet he couldn't even unfurl his schemes against you. And that, despite possessing the counter to the Ak Clan's Spear Arts."
Wuuuung.
The sword in Murong Clan's leader's hand glowed with white radiance.
It was as if he had wrapped his blade in the distant stars scattered across the heavens, weaving them into a celestial tapestry.
That transcendental presence spread outward.
"Victory and defeat in the martial world are but the affairs of war. For one who slew Zhuge Cheonsang through combined assault and sheer fortune to become so arrogant..."
And then, his sword blurred. He was finally making his move.
Murong Clan's Meteor Sword transformed into a pillar of dim light.
At that moment, the surrounding air wavered violently, turning into a semi-transparent blue haze.
The sword strike, surging in a straight line, was absurdly fast. The time for proof had come.
This was the moment the world would realize that a warrior had emerged. Not merely a rising master, but one who had drawn closest to the Divine Sword Order's leader's rank.
Wuuuuung—
In Jung Yeonshin's mind, a dragon formed of pure radiance ascended, clutching a fan between its jaws.
A Divine Secret Art.
Fan Dragon Lotus Binding Technique.
An intangible wave, ignited from his upper dantian, shot skyward with violent force.
For a brief instant, the sword light of Murong Zhongrak, the man who had subdued Liangdong, flickered in and out of his vision.
Yet, the spirit of Lotus Nezha paid it no heed as it strode through the domain of light.
A Fan Dragon, streaking down the sloping mountainside like a ray of light.
The mystical energy of his Baihui Acupoint scraped across the air like the fierce impression of a Divine Dragon's presence, immediately forging a conduit that resonated with the divine nature of his upper dantian.
And like a thunderbolt, it plunged directly into the Tyrant Hero Ma Yeonjeok's crown.
Zzeoooong!
With a deafening roar, a devastating wave of energy erupted.