With the words of Clan Leader Tang Yun-hwang, a shower of white petals rose in reverse.
The moment his wrist twisted, it sliced through the air.
Stars revealed in the blue sky seemed to hold sharpness. The force surging sideways was tremendous.
Pa-pa-pa-pak!
Groans erupted.
They came from the demonic warriors lingering around Jung Yeonshin.
As if struck repeatedly by small cannons, the six bodies flinched and jerked violently. It was a truly terrifying sight.
One move.
With a single move, the warriors of the Pure Demon Alliance were ravaged.
The lifeless bodies collapsed, forming yet another pool of blood.
Murmurs arose around them, praising the martial prowess of the Tang Clan leader.
'No.'
Jung Yeonshin thought.
For a moment, he saw Tang Yun-hwang's throat quiver. He had exerted himself fully.
Slaying the warriors of the Thirteen Heavens while internally injured? It wouldn't make sense unless he was pushing himself to display authority at this moment.
"Clan Leader!"
"We humbly congratulate you!"
Martial artists clad in green robes appeared from various corners of the avenue.
It was clear to anyone—they were warriors of the Tang Clan.
Those who had harbored doubts about the master, upon witnessing the Full Sky Flower Rain, defected on the spot.
The Grand Elder of the Tang Clan said nothing.
He merely stood still, gazing at the Full Sky Flower Rain, which embodied his lifelong aspirations, and at his estranged son.
"...How can we possibly fight that?"
The sinister swordsman Gal Sa-ryang let out a hollow laugh.
The extreme tension that had compressed to its limit suddenly dissipated, and the central street erupted into noise.
A spectacle rarely seen even in the martial world unfolded repeatedly. At this point, most of the crowd had abandoned thoughts of victory or defeat.
The voices echoing around them began to change.
"What a majestic sight."
"A senior and a junior exchanging martial skills of divine levels... There will never be another scene like this. I'm glad I came."
"If the Tang Clan falls to this extent, the Pure Demon Alliance will surely face storms in the near future. The Clan Leader has returned, after all. While the Grand Elder won't stay idle, even he cannot contend with the Full Sky Flower Rain..."
"I've heard whispers about Lightning Genius, the Black Phantom. I never imagined he'd be such a formidable expert."
"It's truly hard to believe."
The crowd grew louder. The icy wind that had swept through the street dissipated.
The humid, tumultuous breeze of summer seemed to blow in its place.
It was the result of witnessing such a rare spectacle.
The street, which had seemed lifeless, was now brimming with energy. A boy had replicated the Full Sky Flower Rain, the symbol of Sichuan's martial arts.
Despite the region's isolation due to its basin-like terrain, those who saw Jung Yeonshin now yearned even to brush against his robes.
The martial artists of the Ten Perfection Sect clearly felt it.
"Hey. Lightning Genius."
Gal Sa-ryang suddenly called out. When Jung Yeonshin turned his head, the sinister swordsman's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Would you let us go?"
"..."
It was practically a declaration of surrender. The Crescent Moon Sword turned around with a shocked expression.
There had never been a precedent for great sects like the Thirteen Heavens or the Nine Sects raising a white flag.
Only a few factions had surrendered to the Mongol armies during the transitional period of the Yuan Dynasty.
As a result, despite preserving their forces, they had earned scorn for being weaker than the Nine Great Sects overall.
While this concerned the upper echelons of the martial world, the Ten Perfection Sect were undoubtedly part of that domain.
"Lord Bong! You must reconsider!"
"Even if we struggle against the Tang Clan Leader and Lightning Genius, the Grand Elder is still one of the Eight Great Clan heads. Even if I manage to stop Tang Yun-hwang, what about Lightning Genius? Leaving aside the Full Sky Flower Rain, his strength alone is formidable. It seems even Sword-Thirst Demon was slain by him. Is there any chance of victory with the Tang Clan involved?"
Gal Sa-ryang responded in a dignified manner.
His words invited silence.
The Crescent Moon Sword clamped his mouth shut and fixed his gaze on Jung Yeonshin.
An unbelievable level of martial skill and a situation where even the Tang Clan Leader stood by his side.
The words 'teacher' from Clan Leader Tang Yun-hwang's mouth had been unexpected. He was a leader of one of the Eight Great Clans—it shouldn't have happened.
'A miracle… Truly a bizarre event. This is unprecedented.'
His earlier comparison to Zhang Fei seemed insufficient. This Lightning Genius had gone beyond even that.
[Note - Zhang Fei was a Chinese military general and politician serving under the warlord Liu Bei in the late Eastern Han dynasty and early Three Kingdoms period of China.]
It was like Zhang Fei summoning reinforcements at Changban Bridge.
And his own strength was comparable enough to discuss Zhang Fei, meaning he wasn't even a rising talent.
Standing calmly beside the Tang Clan Leader who performed the Full Sky Flower Rain was a boy.
The black robes fluttering in the waves of power stood out vividly.
'How.'
How had someone so young achieved such martial mastery?
It was a level worthy of dominance over the martial world.
Not even the heirs of noble clans, raised on miraculous elixirs, could achieve this.
The harmony in his internal energy and the refinement of his techniques were separate from raw accumulation.
The Crescent Moon Sword's thoughts eventually converged.
Talent. It was talent.
He possessed an incomprehensible anomaly. Even calling it an innate martial prodigy fell short.
The word 'monster' fit better. That was what the Crescent Moon Sword believed.
Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation in his chest. It was his middle dantian.
His heart raced uncontrollably.
Was it envy?
The Ten Perfection Sect's prodigy asked himself. The answer came immediately.
It was jealousy. It coiled like a snake.
'Primordial Art of Ten Thousand Sects.'
The martial technique of the Ten Perfection Sect.
It allowed seamless use of eighteen types of weapons, prioritizing flexibility in internal energy over accumulation.
The Crescent Moon Sword, So Jin-rang, was the legitimate heir of the Ten Perfection Sect.
He possessed the cultivation needed to master the Primordial Art of Ten Thousand Sects. This was thanks to consuming miraculous elixirs.
His strength rivaled even Gal Sa-ryang.
Step.
While Jung Yeonshin had yet to respond to Gal Sa-ryang, the sound of footsteps echoed.
The ground squelched like mud as So Jin-rang advanced.
Gal Sa-ryang addressed his back.
"Jin-rang. What are you doing?"
"I cannot comply with surrender. I'd rather die than lose my honor. Shouldn't we at least test our skills against him? That boy seems to wield divine techniques. I'll compete using techniques alone, without relying on internal energy."
"..."
"If we're to surrender anyway, there's nothing to lose. And if I win, I'll protect some of our pride."
So Jin-rang replied calmly, even as his steps churned the ground.
Gal Sa-ryang didn't stop him. He seemed to have expected it.
If the sect had been full of practical-minded individuals seeking self-preservation, they wouldn't have been part of the Demonic Path.
They wouldn't even be classified as the Thirteen Heavens.
Their ways defied the laws of the Ming Dynasty, and their ever-changing styles earned them the name Ten Perfection Sect.
If annihilation awaited them, so be it.
Gal Sa-ryang changed his mind. He would face the situation with the heart of a madman, like So Jin-rang.
Oddly enough, he felt at ease. He thought to himself—it suited him as a true child of the Demonic Path.
'Indeed…'
Lightning Genius must die here. Gal Sa-ryang narrowed his eyes.
"Will you accept?"
So Jin-rang asked quietly, standing five steps away from Jung Yeonshin.
He had stepped through the Full Sky Flower Rain unfazed.
Tang Yun-hwang had merely waved his hand slightly to clear the path.
He gazed up at Jung Yeonshin with eyes swirling like stormy shadows.
"Such a trivial provocation—it's your call to handle it. Leader, I'll follow your command."
His tone had shifted.
Jung Yeonshin felt déjà vu. It was the same as with the Blood Flame Cult and Returning Wings Squad.
Different titles, but the same reverence. Master, Elder, Teacher... The meanings overlapped. It felt strange every time.
'I haven't even lived that long.'
He had merely fixed or created what was needed. Being treated with such deference didn't feel entirely comfortable.
As the Grand Master of the Blood Flame Cult, Jung Yeonshin's freedom had often been constrained.
Without the Seventh Apostle, he wouldn't have survived in their headquarters.
'Though she's the one who took me there.'
Shaking off the thought, Jung Yeonshin took a step forward.
The Grand Elder's sharp gaze flickered momentarily, but the boy passed him without hesitation.
It was now Tang Yun-hwang's responsibility.
At the same time, the Full Sky Flower Rain's petal rain descended. Tang Yun-hwang had withdrawn his energy.
"Let's settle this."
Jung Yeonshin spoke as the steel shards fell around them, facing So Jin-rang.
"The Pure Demon Alliance is annihilated. Only your Ten Perfection Sect remain. What do I gain from accepting your proposal?"
The boy spoke calmly, organizing his thoughts.
If the Pure Demon Alliance leader refused to yield, total war would be inevitable. That was fine.
With the Tang Clan's strength, the weakened Pure Demon Alliance could be eradicated.
The situation with the Ten Perfection Sect was more favorable.
He had heard of the Crescent Moon Sword. While taking on this mission in unfamiliar territory, he had studied the martial landscape of Sichuan.
If he spared the sect leader's son, wouldn't the head of the Ten Perfection Sect hesitate, even if just a little?
'If I can exploit that delay.'
Facing two of the Thirteen Heavens' sects simultaneously would be burdensome.
He needed to minimize losses from Returning Wings Squad and Radiant Demon Squad.
Starting today, Jung Yeonshin planned to roam Sichuan's martial world alone for a while.
Indeed, it seemed best to let the Crescent Moon Sword live.
The Malevolent Sword standing behind him appeared to sense Jung Yeonshin's intentions. He wore a strange expression, as though he had figured it out.
The Crescent Moon Sword, So Jin-rang, however, was different. He was the son of one of the Thirteen Heavens sect master.
Was he calculating the pros and cons to his own advantage? His furrowed brows betrayed his incredulity.
It was as if Jung Yeonshin could hear the gears turning in his head.
"I asked why I should bother sparring with someone beneath me."
The boy spoke, his voice piercing through the unfamiliar atmosphere.
The celebratory mood on the central street now felt foreign. The air brushing against his skin was hot.
Jung Yeonshin stepped forward amid the crowd, who were eager to inch closer to him.
The commoners flinched. Even the local martial artists were no exception. None could predict his next move.
Then—
"…I'll give you the Zhangbo Map and the Poisoned Dew Pearl."
So Jin-rang spoke through clenched teeth.
"The Zhangbo Map?"
"The Pure Demon Alliance coveted it. It's said to be the tomb of an unknown Ming Cult leader. The Heavenly Demon, no less."
Gasps echoed from all around. Had this been his intention all along?
These were not opponents to be taken lightly. Troublesome events seemed inevitable.
Jung Yeonshin took the green jade bead from him.
Srrk.
He brushed the old paper with his fingertip, showing no hint of tension.
At the same time, a wisp of smoke rose from his fingertip. It was the flame of Tri Samadhi Evolution.
A small wildfire ignited, consuming the Zhangbo Map. Jung Yeonshin amplified his power further so everyone could see.
Hwaaaak!
What?
Th-that priceless treasure!
Sighs of dismay spread from the crowd. So Jin-rang's expression was equally remarkable.
"What nonsense."
He muttered as the paper burned.
The words sounded like something Heon Wonchang or Flame Dragon might have said, but Jung Yeonshin ignored it.
The martial world was notorious for doing anything to obtain powerful techniques.
To publicly accept the Zhangbo Map of the Heavenly Demon? It was like painting a target on his back.
Instead, he committed the map to memory with a glance.
Thanks to his ever-heated upper dantian, it was easy.
He slowly parted his lips.
"Let's begin."
"No internal energy, only techniques. I'll prove that our martial arts' essence is not inferior to Desolate Fortress."
So Jin-rang, having regained his composure, declared.
Did he truly think he could win? Jung Yeonshin gave a slight nod.
* * *
One hour later.
His breathing was ragged. His heartbeat was louder than his exhalations.
The Sichuan ground, which had felt soft like mud, now seemed firmer than ever.
He felt uneasy—deeply uneasy.
So Jin-rang was fleeing in disgrace, completely alone.
How had it come to this?
He hadn't expected things to spiral this far out of control.
A monster had come from Desolate Fortress.
Lightning Genius, Jung Yeonshin, was sharper and more suffocating than the branches clawing at So Jin-rang's body as he fled.
He had never even imagined such a scenario.
'I'm afraid.'
The Crescent Moon Sword acknowledged his fear.
At the same time, he made up his mind. He would spread the word about Lightning Genius to all the great sects of the Thirteen Heavens.
'He wields the power to vanquish evil and restore order, making him a natural enemy of the Demonic Path. He's a black-rank master capable of leading a military unit in Desolate Fortress, with the Tang Clan's support behind him.'
Summarized like this, it was overwhelming. He couldn't be left alone.
Rumors had circulated that some orthodox sects, including the Eight Great Clans, were forming a Martial Alliance.
The destruction of the Hwangbo Clan and the slaughter of the Namgoong bloodline by Desolate Fortress was the catalyst, but the orthodox sects were unlikely to side with demonic factions.
It was no longer a time for the Thirteen Heavens to stand divided.
So Jin-rang thought. He would report everything in detail to his father and advocate for immediate action.
Darkness crept across the mountains.
Suddenly, he noticed the top of a tree. He hadn't deliberately focused on it.
Its overwhelming presence had forcibly drawn his gaze.
"I don't like your eyes."
A smooth, silky voice echoed. It came from so high up that he had to crane his neck to its limit.
A woman stood atop a slender branch.
Her jet-black hair danced with the mountain breeze, and her snow-white face was unnervingly beautiful.
She wore a black eyepatch adorned with golden embroidery over one eye, while her other eye gleamed blood-red, like a ruby.
So Jin-rang stared blankly and muttered.
"Apostle…?"
"You had bad intentions, didn't you?"
The corners of her lips curved into a smile—a dangerously red smile.