A tremendous roar echoed.
It was as if thunder had overlapped repeatedly. The massive tremors violently shook the earth.
A series of explosive shocks raced across the vast land, so deafening that even the retreating martial artists of the Gongya Clan momentarily forgot their urgency and turned back to look.
They had just arrived after receiving orders from the Assistant Governor-General to lure the noble families.
"Grand Young Lady, over there…!"
"I see it!"
Whoosh—!
The seven Gongya martial artists who had come to a halt stirred up strong headwinds with their light footwork. Dust burst forth beneath their feet.
However, compared to the massive cloud of dust rising ahead, it seemed insignificant.
"The auras of the noble families… they've all vanished."
"…They've been annihilated."
Shocked whispers escaped their lips. The eyes of the Grand Young Lady, Gongya Jung, and her kin widened.
They had been worried while leading the noble families into the trap.
Anyone who had witnessed the death of the Lord of the Zhuge Clan would have known that the state of the black-clad forces of Desolate Fortress was anything but good.
"Check whether they have been paying their tributes properly… and prepare the relief grain for the commoners. This time, no one in the family will oppose me."
Gongya Jung murmured.
It was a subject that had been met with resistance multiple times.
The Gongya Clan did not engage in base acts such as looting. However, they were not a clan known for their generosity toward commoners.
At most, when other noble families hosted martial arts tournaments, the Gongya Clan took charge of hosting the banquet to prevent the ensuing plundering that often followed such events.
They did not routinely open their granaries during prolonged famines. There would come a day when food would be more precious than gold.
But this time, no one dared to challenge her command.
The leaders of the Gongya Clan remained silent. They could do nothing else as they watched the Radiant Demon Squad emerge from the thick dust.
Step.
Faintly glowing streams of energy dissipated from his lowered hands, momentarily entwining the lingering dust like threads of silk—an image reminiscent of the King of the Underworld.
Even the blood dripping from his sleeves was menacing. The wounds inflicted by the Lord of the Zhuge Clan seemed to have ruptured due to the backlash of forbidden techniques.
Hiss—
A dry wind swept away the dust, revealing the scene behind him.
The massive crater beyond his shoulder was terrifying, as if a fragment of hell had been carved into the earth.
The elite warriors who had spearheaded the plundering had been sent to the afterlife. Those who had ruled over Shanxi for decades had not even been given the chance to leave a final will.
Thin wisps of steam rose from the scorched basin. It was a chilling sight.
"The prince who descended upon a flower… the incarnation of Nezha, they say…"
An elder of the Gongya Clan muttered as if sighing.
At that moment, the figure of Jung Yeonshin, who had been approaching with a composed stride, suddenly staggered.
"Leader of the Clan!"
Startled, Gongya Jung slammed her foot into the ground.
The senior members of the Gongya Clan, shocked by the deputy leader's reaction, immediately followed suit.
They, too, were a formidable noble clan. It took them no time to reach the battlefield where the confrontation had been decided in an instant.
By then, Jung Yeonshin had already straightened his posture, casting a brief glance at them. He recalled the demeanor of his senior, Jin Myungjo.
If he maintained the noble composure of the Supreme Demon of Sacred Blood at all times, then even after executing life-draining forbidden techniques such as Ultimate Thunder and Fan Dragon Lotus Binding Technique, enemies would not dare act recklessly.
'The cervical vertebrae should tilt slightly backward rather than remain perfectly straight. Engage the lumbar muscles on both sides.'
They said even bluffing was a skill. He could not afford to appear weak.
Swoosh.
Ignoring the lightning-like pain that coursed through his entire body, he adjusted his stance. The internal and external injuries he had suffered from the leader of the Zhuge Clan would not heal in just a day or two.
Seeing the Gongya Clan's elders flinch from a distance gave him a slight sense of satisfaction.
He felt amused, yet at the same time, he realized his need for a shield.
Not defensive energy reinforcement, he needed people. Perhaps it was because his body was exhausted.
The road ahead of him was treacherous. The martial world was vast, and many had gathered under various banners.
After defeating a supreme master, he would have to bear the brunt of the wrath of those left behind. He had been unusually fortunate when facing the leader of the Zhuge Clan.
Not everyone in the world of martial arts accepted the results of one-on-one duels.
There was a reason martial artists formed sects.
A house. A faction .
They were people who shared the same ideology and martial arts that held more value than blood. They were as close as family.
Just like the kin standing behind Gongya Jung as she approached him. Just like the black-clad warriors of Desolate Fortress.
"Are you alright? You should return home for treatment immediately—"
"Grand Young Lady, I apologize."
Jung Yeonshin spoke.
"For using your family in my mission."
For a moment, the red hem of Gongya Jung's robes quivered. There was an odd weight behind the words of Lotus Nezha, the Lightning Genius.
His voice carried the intention of leaving. Had this always been his plan? The atmosphere shifted, as if he were being naturally sent off as a guest.
Slowly, she opened her mouth.
"In the end, only the remnants of Moon Castle Sect and our Gongya Clan remain in Shaanxi. Compared to the humiliation we suffered from the noble clans, it is nothing. As long as Moon Castle Sect remains dormant, this land will remain stable for a while. As long as the people do not starve…"
"You will bear a heavy burden. Your father must recover quickly."
Jung Yeonshin's words were true.
The Grand Young Lady of the Gongya Clan would soon have to shoulder the entirety of Shaanxi's martial world. A martial realm without the noble clans would not remain peaceful.
The Green Forest bandits, rogue warriors of the Demonic Faction, and lawless wanderers would be eyeing the vacancy.
Although the Lazy Flame Dragon and his allies had gone to attack the headquarters of Moon Castle Sect, the situation was still far from over.
Shaanxi was vast. It was too heavy a burden for someone in the starting stage of their martial journey. It was an issue that would inevitably draw the attention of countless martial artists.
"…Hmm."
Gongya Jung's expression remained unchanged. Her slender, sharply arched brows and reserved lips showed no fluctuation.
"My father was pleased instead. He called this a lesson in succession, a chance for me to stand on my own. He was right."
"…A rock."
Jung Yeonshin suddenly muttered. He looked at her with a mix of unease and admiration.
A person who lived with an unshakable stance. The very embodiment of a still and clear mirror. She seemed like a stone that could not be chipped, stirring an old sense of inferiority within him.
Ever since she had uttered ten years of training in response to a single sword strike, he had felt this way.
Wasn't this true, overwhelming composure? Not even the leader of the Zhuge Clan had exuded such a presence.
'Life…'
Jung Yeonshin etched the unfairness of life into his bones. He suddenly wanted to leave.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing."
Shaking his head at her puzzled look, he continued.
"You have a good father."
Jung Yeonshin spoke in his usual tone. The corners of Gongya Jung's lips subtly curled.
"My younger brother wishes to enter Desolate Fortress. If he takes the entrance trial one day, will you accept him into the Radiant Demon Squad?"
She was referring to the cheerful second son of the Gongya Clan.
Jung Yeonshin nodded. Although the black-clad warriors sometimes fought for new recruits through duels, only the three great masters of the black division were truly daunting.
Unless it was the elusive leader of the Blood Preservation Squad, few newcomers would be beyond his reach.
"I must go now."
Jung Yeonshin said abruptly.
He had just entrusted a letter to one of the Gongya Clan's attendants.
It contained a brief farewell to his seniors. It was best for the severely wounded Ak Surim and Jin Myungjo to return to the main fortress after recovering.
He knew they would willingly accompany him, but he did not want that.
Desolate Divine Spear and Supreme Demon of Sacred Blood must oversee the Divine Sword Order and the Blood Preservation Squad. As their guardians.
'The two of them must not suffer further injuries. They must not encounter any unforeseen misfortunes.'
The leader of the Zhuge Clan had fallen.
The great leaders' mission had ended.
From now on, it was Radiant Demon Squad's matter to handle.
He had long suspected that the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect and Heon Wonchang were entangled in some kind of connection.
He also knew that Desolate Sacred Warrior originated from Shaanxi.
Heon Wonchang's enmity was, in turn, the Radiant Demon Squad's enmity. As such, it was only fitting that the present leader of Radiant Demon Squad took responsibility.
Even if those in Desolate Fortress blue-rank had the authority to conduct solo operations, the same logic applied.
Rustle.
His robe swayed as he turned, while Gongya Jung raised her hands in a respectful martial salute.
"May you be victorious."
"Grand Young Lady, likewise."
Lotus Nezha, the Lightning Genius, fully turned and walked away.
A small, pure white swallow suddenly flitted from his embrace, soaring high into the sky.
Baiyan.
A spiritual creature commanded by the leaders of Desolate Fortress.
Tweet—!
Its wings cut across the horizon against the backdrop of the azure sky.
It flew endlessly along the border of the wilderness, as if knowing its master's destination.
Below, the current leader of the Radiant Demon Squad walked slowly, leaving his footprints one by one on the ochre earth.
Hiss—
A dry breeze blew gently.
The late winter wind was as clear as ice.
The noble families of the Gongya Clan silently watched the departing figure of the young man who had entered as an outsider and subdued the martial world of Shaanxi.
* * *
"Look at that massive crater. Truly, a breathtaking sight. It's the pinnacle of coordinated martial and military collaboration. Who would have thought a barrage of Thunder Bombs could look so beautiful?"
"...."
"I've really bet on the right side, haven't I? Wouldn't you agree?"
"The Assistant Governor-General's insight has never been wrong."
"Haha, now you're just flattering me…"
"I speak the truth."
"He pierced right through the profound intricacies of the noble clans' formations. For all those firebombs to detonate only after striking their precise targets…? That kind of technique would work even on the treacherous northern borders. It's simply that refined. Tell me, Officer Do."
"Yes?"
"We're heading to Beijing. We must prepare a report."
* * *
The sensation against his back was hard.
"...."
Kim Seon-hwi opened his eyes.
Darkness greeted him. The underside of a bed.
At some point, he had unconsciously rolled off in his sleep, keeping his senses alert for any hidden blades that might emerge.
The familiar air sent a chill over his skin. The scent of blood, steel, and the dry aroma of withered wood…
Swoosh.
Before he knew it, he was standing.
Like a ghost, his body had moved the moment his consciousness awoke, following the survival instincts ingrained in him since childhood.
He had to, if he wanted to avoid the River-Severing Sword Art of the Murong Clan and the terrifying blade techniques of Taemo Mountain Fortress. A relentlessly long pursuit.
…Wait, the Eight Clans and the Thirteen Celestial Demons. What time is it?
'Ah.'
Suddenly, he silently repeated his own name.
Heon Wonchang, Sacred Warrior of Desolate Fortress, blue-rank Radiant Demon Squad…
The promising future of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect, Kim Seon-hwi, no longer existed. The last child of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect's leader had perished.
He had narrowly escaped the two great sects that coveted the Heavenly Demon's Legacy, discarding his family name along the way. His family had abandoned him first.
Heon Wonchang's lips tightened.
"Is this an illusion technique? My head feels clouded, like I've inhaled a dozen poppies burning at once."
"If your memories are an illusion, then perhaps it is."
A clear, crisp voice rang out.
A man in a black hat was suddenly crouched on the edge of his bed, gazing up at him.
His posture was at once relaxed and completely at ease, perfectly suiting the atmosphere.
Heon Wonchang showed no surprise at the bizarre intrusion. The Kim Family was that kind of place—beyond the level of mere martial skill.
This very hall, too, was nestled beneath a cliff, eerily resembling the ruins of his destroyed family estate.
"Is it morning?"
"You already know the answer."
The Chivalrous Slayer, Kim Jon-hwi, smiled.
"You really are a prodigy. I didn't expect the scent of assassination techniques to still linger on your body."
"Enough with the nonsense."
"What a shame. Where has my dear little brother gone, the one who would recite Du Fu's poetry to comfort his elder brother's woes? A direct descendant offering solace to an outcast elder."
"It didn't change the fact that I was still treated as a bastard because of my mother's status. Kim Seon-hwi is gone, and you, elder brother, have finally achieved your long-cherished wish of becoming the sect leader. With Moon Castle Sect annihilated, haven't we both accomplished our goals? Let's just go our separate ways."
"That's different from what you said last night. Are you saying you no longer care about breaking your seal?"
"...."
"I read the face of your superior. His lifespan isn't long… regrettably. You, his subordinate, will need to become much stronger."
Heon Wonchang's lips tightened into a thin line.
"When has your face-reading ever been right? You just look at your assassination targets and say, 'Ah, this one won't live long', before cutting them down. Lucky for us, they were all scum."
"Now that's the little brother I know."
Kim Jon-hwi chuckled brightly.
With a small nod, he tapped his fingers rhythmically and pulled something from his robe.
A short, green scroll.
"This is the key to breaking your seal—along with a document carrying the long-held wish of our clan. I had quite the struggle getting this from those stubborn elders. Despite not being direct descendants, they sure despised your lineage. Foolish old men."
"...."
"However, it's sealed with an enchantment… and the mnemonic verse required to unlock it was lost. On that day, during the Heavenly Demon Tomb Rebellion. We were both too busy running for our lives."
"…That's true."
"There's word that the Profound Martial Alliance is mobilizing a thousand elite warriors in this direction. The Murong Clan is also stirring. And the strange lot from Taemo Mountain Fortress… they've been stockpiling massive amounts of Pagoda Tree Yellow Paper."
Pagoda Tree Yellow Paper—paper made from the pagoda tree, commonly used in talismans.
It was the primary material for the spell-infused martial arts wielded by Thirteen Celestial Demons of Taemo Mountain Fortress.
"Something is happening, but I can't shake the feeling that our family's power is still too weak. If breaking this seal can help strengthen your martial arts as well, wouldn't that be killing two birds with one stone?"
"I am not part of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect."
"Not yet. But in the end, just do as your heart desires."
Tap, tap.
Kim Jon-hwi tossed the scroll upward and caught it with one hand as he replied.
His voice carried an uncanny confidence—a trait that was always present in his demeanor.
Heon Wonchang, after glaring at him for a moment, finally spoke. Extending a hand forward.
"Let me see it."
"Go ahead. Not that it'll do you much good."
"What do you mean?"
"It's sealed with enchantments. You won't be able to open it. It's bound up like a club."
Kim Jon-hwi replied nonchalantly.
"In fact, this is your first trial. The former sect leader, before the clan's destruction, infused your body with a powerful elixir… The elders in the sect's council don't want your seal broken, fearing it might challenge my legitimacy. So, I persuaded them—since no one's been able to act on our family's old wish anyway, why not let you wander around with me and see if you can break it…"
Tap.
Handing over the scroll, he continued.
"That, too, would be fate, wouldn't it? Keep it safe and get ready to move. The Hwangbo Clan and the Desolate Shin Clan folks are already awake. They didn't seem to have gotten much sleep."
And then—
Suddenly, from Heon Wonchang's hand, a faint, mist-like energy began to seep out.
Srrrrk—
The scroll unraveled like a spool of thread.
Underneath the subtly flickering power of Radiant Arts Secret, the mystical force binding the document had loosened.
Beneath the brim of his black hat, the sharp jawline of the Chivalrous Slayer stiffened. The aura that had dominated the room wavered, giving rise to an eerie silence.
Heon Wonchang's lips curled slightly.
"Ah, so they say that True Mastery does not differentiate between sorcery and martial arts."
The remark slipped out like a boast.
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