* * *
Mangsan(Forgotten Mountain) near Taiyuan Prefecture.
A small disturbance arose in the secluded valley.
Saaa—
The camellia trees, standing tall amidst the thick mist, greeted their uninvited guests with faint cries.
It was because the scorching footsteps of an unwelcome visitor, wrapped in heat, had seared their leaves as he passed.
"Grand Moon Slaughter Sect was one of the sects affected during the Heavenly Demon Tomb Rebellion?"
"That is correct."
The eerie silence of the dark forest was unraveled by the presence of people.
The rustling of the underbrush and the sound of light-footed movement carried on like the tail of a comet, accompanied by the sharp noise of air being sliced through.
The steps of the Lazy Flame Dragon were loud. Shin So-bin, who followed in large strides as if soaring, was no different.
Unlike Chivalrous Slayer at the forefront, who displayed the Grass Flutter technique.
Heon Wonchang, too, made no noise, but since he was conversing with Lazy Flame Dragon, he could not fully conceal his presence.
"…However, the branch sects we are heading to now were not involved in that incident. Thanks to that, they remained unharmed. The members of the main sect, captured by the Murong Clan and Taemo Mountain Fortress, refused to yield under torture."
"So they were involved in this as well? The stench of noble clans is unbearable. It's laughable how these martial aristocrats, pursuing their own gains, speak of righteousness. Who knows how much they're bribing the local officials?"
"There's no need for unnecessary sympathy, especially from you. My mind is already tangled with the upcoming trial."
"Sympathy? Hardly."
"Never mind, if I waste this precious time on something personal and end up failing… I won't have the face to see the Radiant Arts Secret or our squad leader again. That would be truly shameful."
"It's strange for a branch sect to decide whether to recognize a member of the main sect or not."
"The predecessor of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect, the Golden Clan Slaughter Sect, has always been that kind of family and sect. To prevent the loss of their secret techniques, their mnemonic verses were divided among the branch sects, allowing them to exist independently. Some remain righteous, while others have been tainted by demonic influences."
"So it's a fragmented group like the remnants of the Ming Cult? A gatekeeper sect of the Heavenly Demon Tomb."
"You could say that. A distant offshoot, at the very least. However, even if a new Heavenly Demon were to rise today, the Slaughter Sect would not follow them."
"That trial… it's not something ridiculous like holding your breath for seven days and nights with the Turtle Breath Technique, is it?"
"It's a bit different, as you suspect."
From beneath the black hat of Chivalrous Slayer, who was leading the way, a pleasant voice echoed.
"You'll soon find out as we are almost there… But rather than an assassin's skills, the trial is more about testing one's individual martial prowess. The key is whether you can protect a body infused with secret techniques. There may be strange mechanical formations like the Diamond Copper Men of Shaolin, or they might test your skill with the sword."
"And you're fine telling me this? I thought anything related to the Slaughter Sect was meant to be a secret."
"I lack the confidence to handle both Seon-hwi and you at the same time."
There was a trace of laughter in Chivalrous Slayer's voice.
"And if you're Seon-hwi's close friend, then you're not too distant from me either. The blood ties of the Slaughter Sect run deep. In the end, we are always drawn back to our roots. Always."
"You make it sound like our Sacred Warrior will leave the Radiant Demon Squad."
"Take it with a grain of salt. This sect has its origins in the Demonic Cult. Ever since I was young, incomprehensible words were everywhere. In the end, even the combined assault of the great sects and the abduction of our direct lineage could not be prevented."
Heon Wonchang spoke in a rare tone of irritation.
Chivalrous Slayer did not reply. Only a bitter chuckle brushed against the underbrush beneath their feet.
The blue sunlight shone brightly.
* * *
The bustling main street was filled with people beneath the vast sky. It was an incredibly noisy roadway.
"Just one of these seeds can make the land fertile! This is Sumiza from Xinjiang! Ah, just take a chance and wait a year! It's incredibly valuable! I swear it's not a scam!"
"Come to the inn with the finest chef in the world! We have Dongpo Pork even tastier than what you get in Hangzhou!"
"Is it true that the Zhuge Clan's leader has died? The imperial sword interfering in Shaanxi's martial world?"
"They say the black-robed warrior of Desolate Fortress, someone akin to a supernatural force, killed him… It was the Lotus Nezha—Lightning Genius! The entire martial world is already in an uproar. Even the Ha Clan Trading Group suffered heavy losses."
"Of course! We're talking about Reincarnated Dragon here, not just some nobody! This isn't just a martial world matter; the merchant guilds will be affected too… Investors in Moon Castle Sect took a hit, but those who waited a bit longer were lucky."
"This might be a good time to establish connections with the Shaanxi Branch of Desolate Fortress."
"But still, isn't that a bit much? The branch leader is just a newly promoted blue-rank warrior. He's certainly strong, but Beijing's aristocrats might be a better bet. The Shaanxi martial world is a wasteland. Even the black-robed warriors who came to punish the Zhuge Clan's leader will likely leave soon."
The crowd was filled with people of all backgrounds.
Even at a glance, distinguished individuals were everywhere. It was befitting of the capital city of Shaanxi Province.
The drought had yet to impact this city, the greatest in Shaanxi, much like Yangyang, the stronghold of Desolate Fortress.
A line of respectable inns stretched down the street, and the scenery from the windows of one such establishment was unusually lively for the early morning.
"Everyone must flee! War! It's a civil war!"
"Are the imperial army and Desolate Fortress blind? What nonsense… Here, just eat a mooncake."
"It's the Profound Martial Alliance! They're coming to claim ownership of our land! I swear it's true!"
"Even so, only the martial artists will lose their heads. This is Shaanxi. Beijing is right next door. Only the vagrants without identification will die. No matter how strong the Profound Martial Alliance is, they won't dare touch the common folk who pay taxes."
Swoosh.
Jung Yeonshin rested his elbow on the yellow-tinged wooden table. He had just arrived in Taiyuan after a long journey.
The firm texture of the wood touched his dust-covered sleeve. As he casually leaned his chin on his hand, he effortlessly took on the appearance of a wandering traveler.
A few passersby glanced up at him from beyond the window, but Jung Yeonshin's gaze only swept over them indifferently.
The naive boy who once wished to enter Desolate Fortress no longer existed.
'The Profound Martial Alliance… they were a major force in the martial army.'
Sitting in a well-lit spot on the second floor, he could see the many lives unfolding at a glance.
Street vendors clinging to passersby, eager to sell their goods, merchants discussing worldly affairs over their stalls, self-proclaimed connoisseurs loudly gossiping about martial world rumors…
These people did not need to feign composure like the Radiant Demon Squad's leader. Nor were they as deeply wounded, both inside and out, as Jung Yeonshin was now.
But they had their own struggles. Living as a weakling in a world dominated by martial arts could not be easy.
Especially now, with a drought creeping ever closer, a catastrophe looming.
Would they, too, prey on those weaker than themselves? Just like the martial artists who had been plundering food supplies recently.
Thud.
Jung Yeonshin's right index finger tapped against the table.
Suddenly, he thought of the herbalist, Jang Sun-il.
The boy who had helped him save his niece, Jung Hye-ah, and taken the Comprehensive Overview of Demonic Factions' Annihilation in return. He had sworn vengeance on the Demonic Faction that destroyed his clan.
Had he perished along the way? The world was growing ever more dangerous.
"Young master, what would you like to order…?"
It was a young boy, likely a waiter. He approached cautiously, his gaze flickering toward the Beiming Sword at Jung Yeonshin's waist.
There was more curiosity than fear in his eyes.
Jung Yeonshin's lips loosened into a faint smile. His presence was so weakened that he did not inspire vigilance.
He handed over a small pouch of salt, and the boy's face brightened.
"A bowl of plain noodles and a couple of dumplings."
"Uh, those are already sold out. Everyone orders them too quickly…"
"What about Shredded Pork with Beijing Sauce?"
"We don't have pork."
"Kung Pao Chicken."
"Chicken is available! The chef will stir-fry it nicely! Would you like some alcohol as well?"
"Bamboo Leaf… No, just the food."
"Yes!"
The cheerful response came from the waiter, who then turned and walked away.
At this point, even a waiter at an inn held some degree of privilege.
These days, inns that served food were considered equivalent to taverns from several years ago.
As food supplies became more difficult to procure, establishments had begun hiring martial artists as guards to prevent outside raids. This inn was no exception.
Paying for both food and lodging required more than just a few dozen coins; one had to offer either salt or silver.
To casually greet the martial artists guarding the entrance with composure was something only those of a certain status could afford.
"Has the Lord of the Martial House arrived? And the Young Lord as well."
"Yes, well done."
A woman's voice echoed from the floor below. Her footsteps, striking the ground without hesitation, sounded particularly loud. Not just hers—there were two of them.
The fluctuations of internal energy, characteristic of martial artists, differed between them, yet they both carried the same air of ownership over the bustling street as if it were their own front yard.
"Waiter, is this the place?"
"Pardon?"
"I heard an incredible beauty walked in."
"Uh… A noble young lord did come in, though."
"Alright, step aside."
Thud, thud, thud—the heavy steps echoed all the way up to the second floor. It wasn't the sound of someone reckless but rather that of a triumphant general returning from war.
The other guests seated around Jung Yeonshin flinched, lowering their heads toward their bowls. As if some monster from the Classic of Mountains and Seas were ascending the stairs.
Thud.
A small yet rough hand grasped the railing at the edge of the second floor. Just by the look of it, it was clear that this person had undergone extensive training.
The jet-black hair that followed was much the same, though not from glossiness, but from being coated in dust and crushed stone.
"Let's see."
No one around voiced any complaints. Even though the people seated here were wealthy and of high status.
They simply focused on their meals, unable to look at the woman who had climbed the stairs and now grinned at Jung Yeonshin.
"Ah, there you are. My, my."
Step.
"Since fate has brought us together by chance, shall we share a table…?"
With long strides, she approached without hesitation, the hem of her yellow robe swaying freely.
She was a striking woman, with a large saber strapped to her back. Though her eyes were naturally soft, her expression was not.
As she walked toward Jung Yeonshin, staring at him intently, the corners of her mouth twisted upward in an almost self-mocking smirk.
"Huh?"
She shook her head at herself, looking somewhat ridiculous.
"You're a man. A man, indeed. I came all this way following rumors, only for this? What a letdown."
"There are few rumors from the streets worth believing. And besides… what woman would take the Lord of the Martial House seriously? Instead of wasting time here, you should bathe. You reek of wild boar."
The man standing beside her, dressed like a scholar, spoke up.
He was a sharp-featured, handsome man holding a folding fan. His neatly pressed white robe and crane embroidery suited him well.
Jung Yeonshin's gaze, which had remained still even upon seeing the Lord of the Martial House, narrowed slightly as it flicked to the fan.
Meanwhile, the conversation between the woman and the man continued.
"I came all the way from Henan to Taiyuan. I've been in seclusion training. I need to make every moment count if I want to take my brother's head."
"And yet you waste time flirting with unfamiliar women? No wonder the Sect Leader exiled you as the disgrace of the sect. Even went so far as to erase your name from the records."
Jung Yeonshin discreetly assessed the energy surrounding them.
It was laughably weak, worse than the remnants of the Divine Male and Female Whips left behind by the Zhuge Clan's leader—so their conversation was easily overheard, though they seemed to think they were speaking in private.
"What's wrong with a woman liking women? This is my destiny, after all."
"I'm simply telling you to focus. Whether it's your blade or your desires."
"You know that my ambitions won't allow that. I will have everything. But first, I need to bring down that scoundrel of a brother."
"And between the two of you, which one is the real scoundrel…"
"At least I'm not insane enough to flirt with the Sword Immortal. No matter how foolish I may be."
"…That is true."
Hmph.
The woman scoffed before stepping forward, her presence pushing past the thin veil of energy. The one called Lord of the Martial House plopped down directly across from Jung Yeonshin.
Her large saber, still strapped to her back, slightly protruded upward, yet she seemed utterly unconcerned.
"Gun Yurin."
"…Are you insane?"
Jung Yeonshin blurted out the words without thinking and immediately regretted it. Though he didn't show it, Jung Hye-ah's past scoldings came to mind.
His speech had become harsh while dealing with martial artists, most of whom were nothing but ruffians. He needed to restrain himself. He couldn't risk corrupting his niece's ears when they reunited.
'I feel like my words are straying further from my cultivation. I must be careful.'
Pfft—!
Gun Yurin, momentarily stunned, burst into laughter.
"That's right! I do seem that way! Since I've been rude upon our first meeting, how about I buy you a drink? I'd like to admire such a rare face for a bit longer, regardless of your gender."
"I'm abstaining."
"Oh? Not that you can't drink, then? You do look rather young."
A faint twitch formed under Jung Yeonshin's eye.
"It's tedious to answer you. Get lost."
It was then.
Hwaaa—!
"Judging by the precious sword at your waist, you must be from a distinguished martial clan, yet surely you've heard the saying that a person lacking the ability to judge others will die in the martial world."
A fan was pointed directly at Jung Yeonshin's forehead. The scholarly man was glaring at him.
"You don't even recognize the lady before you, and I've never heard of someone like you in Taiyuan. Your energy is remarkably refined for your age… I'm curious about your identity."
"..."
The entire inn fell silent.
Though the event was happening in a corner of the second floor, every eye in the establishment was now focused on them. In one corner, the young waiter who had just returned looked at Jung Yeonshin with worry.
During a famine, even the well-fed could afford to be arrogant, yet the boy's thoughts were plainly written on his face.
It was said that some practitioners could gain great enlightenment even from trivial matters.
Jung Yeonshin suddenly recalled something.
'The ultimate essence of Sword Control Techniques is Sword God Unified Body.'
Sword and spirit.
The domain of transcendence. Just as one could unify their essence, energy, and spirit, it was possible to unify the mind and the sword.
When he had first heard the gentle teachings of Eternal Heaven Sword Demon, Baek Seo-gun, the concept had been impossible to grasp. It had felt like something separate from internal energy sensing.
But now, it was different.
Secret Martial Art—Fan Dragon Lotus Binding Technique.
What would happen if he channeled the sensation of his upper dantian into his weapon?
Uuuung.
Suddenly, the chopsticks in Jung Yeonshin's grip vibrated.
At the same time, Gun Yurin's eyes widened.
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