Zhu Yeon-jeong's conduct was excessive.
After Ma Jin's household management ended, it was Ma Se-in's turn. It was also Zhu Yeon-jeong's turn.
She was scheduled to assume the position of the mother of the head of the clan. With her status as a member of the imperial family, her prestige would have risen considerably.
In two or three decades, that would have been the case.
She couldn't wait.
She grew impatient. As Ma Yeon-jeok's condition showed signs of improvement, she sought to prevent the Grand Elder from consolidating power in the current head of the family.
Though she was a collateral branch, she was still imperial. Power and control over relationships were everything to her.
She thought deeply, but acted shallowly. That was Zhu Yeon-jeong's nature.
She couldn't tolerate losing or being pushed aside. She had lived as royalty in a world where the distinction between high and low was clear.
As a collateral branch, she lived under suppression, but paradoxically, she was freer than the direct line due to her distance from the throne.
Immediate advancement was important to her. It was the same even in the Desolate Fortress.
Until she met the unexpected variable known as the Lightning Genius and received her retribution.
"Are there many of the Zhu clan?"
Even as she coughed up blood, Zhu Yeon-jeong revealed her fury.
Despite her martial prowess built upon the Golden Immortal Eight Methods, she reacted more to the words that insulted her dignity than to the martial situation.
Her furrowed brows and the twisted corners of her mouth created wrinkles.
"To casually utter the imperial family's surname with such disrespect…!"
"I will no longer tolerate it."
Ma Yeon-jeok spoke briefly.
Wooong!
An invisible wave emanated from the pointing finger aimed at Zhu Yeon-jeong.
This time, the strike was visible. Perhaps because it was a punishment that left no room for recovery as a martial artist.
It seemed as if a transparent current surged from his fingertip.
It directly struck Zhu Yeon-jeong's solar plexus. The few drops of blood that had been dripping from her chin scattered under the heavy impact wave.
Boom!
The tyrant's strike was executed without hesitation.
It was said that after the lower dantian, the next target was the middle dantian. It was exactly as he had warned with his gesture. The colorless energy wave extending from his fingers pierced Zhu Yeon-jeong's solar plexus.
It reached the middle dantian's Yutang Acupoint. Using a striking technique that bypasses space, it was coupled with internal shockwave methods that wreak havoc within the body.
[NOTE-Jade Hall Acupoint is the 18th point along the Conception Vessel, one of the so-called eight 'extra-ordinary' acupuncture channels. The Conception channel runs up the middle-front of the body, starting from between the legs and ending in the mouth.]
It was a terrifying strike, a harmonious blend of advanced techniques. Zhu Yeon-jeong had no choice but to take the blow without evading it.
Keuhuk!
She vomited blood, coughing violently. It was worse than when her lower dantian had been destroyed.
It was inevitable. The central area of the Stomach Meridian of Foot Yangming among the twelve meridians had been torn.
Although the strike was entirely focused on destroying the middle dantian, it was dangerously close to the carotid artery. The sudden surge in blood pressure would be extreme.
She could only gag as if she were about to suffocate. The excruciating pain would accompany her.
Ma Yeon-jeok clenched his thin fingers into a fist.
"As you said, you are of the imperial family. Be grateful for your bloodline. I won't kill you. However—"
His voice, as if burning, flowed out.
"From this moment, Ma Se-in's mother will be confined. She will have no further involvement in the affairs of the main family. Lock her in the family's prison and feed her twice a day, breakfast and lunch. She will go without dinner. Let her end each day in complete regret. Let her pain etch itself into her heart and years. I will enshrine this as family law, ensuring that even if Se-in assumes the seat of head of the clan, she will be unable to intervene."
It was a final verdict.
The life of martial artist Zhu Yeon-jeong had ended. Weak energy leaked from her bent waist. Her martial energy dissipated.
The power she had built through the Golden Immortal Eight Methods was falling into the void.
Because her cultivation had relied on spiritual medicines, the energy dispersed densely. The grass beneath her feet was temporarily stained in a hazy hue.
Only then—
Zhu Yeon-jeong's face filled with shock.
The sudden onset of reality soaked into her skin under the early winter moonlight. The pain, akin to torture, came alongside the cold.
The once arrogant woman had lost everything to an overwhelming superior. She was crushed and dismantled, piece by piece.
"…"
The focus disappeared from her eyes.
It was as if her soul had left her body. She was completely beyond recovery. Imperial Zhu Yeon-jeong had fallen into the abyss along with martial artist Zhu Yeon-jeong.
The process was so natural that it was all the more despairing. It was as if she had been trapped in an inescapable grip.
In his prime, the Tyrant was revered as a god among the people. It would remain so.
"And now."
The former Divine Sword Order's leader did not stop speaking.
He briefly took in the sight of his grandson, the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, who was standing silently.
The Tyrant's eyes swept across the masters of the Desolate Fortress.
Twenty clan members, their heads pressed to the ground, and a dozen martial artists standing awkwardly near Zhu Yeon-jeong.
Ma Yeon-jeok's lips twisted.
"You disloyal wretches. Shouldn't you also pay the price? The sins you committed are well-known to you, aren't they?"
With a face devoid of wrinkles, he asked in a profoundly old-fashioned tone.
His youthful face did not make the elder's speech seem awkward. It was the mystique of the martial world. There was power in the rhetorical question that required no answer.
The energy that blossomed once more was worthy of being called the Tyrannical Force. It was a power that embodied supremacy.
With each word, the surrounding air distorted, and dust rose from the ground.
"…We have no excuses."
The martial artist in green robes, Ma Jin-un, turned and knelt before Ma Yeon-jeok.
Even as Ma Yeonjeok walked past them toward Zhu Yeon-jeong, they maintained their posture.
Thus, they bowed once again. The dignified manner in which they rested their hands neatly on their knees reflected the elegance of a prestigious master.
He briefly turned his head and nodded silently to Jung Yeonshin.
Then, he looked up at Ma Yeonjeok.
"I have witnessed the grace of the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad firsthand. Your words of favor are correct. We coveted the Golden Immortal Eight Methods and committed a sin. Today, we have witnessed the Grand Leader's recovery. Only after mismanaging affairs did we realize that the Golden Immortal Eight Methods were martial arts outside the clan. It was foolish and base. We will accept your judgment without complaint."
"Destroy both the lower and middle dantian."
Ma Yeonjeok commanded.
The masters of the Desolate Ma Clan were fanatics who had devoted their lives to martial arts. The pleasure of lightening the body and accumulating superhuman power surpassed even the allure of opium.
To be stripped of that was a fate worse than death.
Such was the meaning of the Tyrant's command, issued with indifference. It was the severing of a martial artist's path.
As the martial artists standing near Zhu Yeon-jeong flinched, the masters of the Desolate Ma Clan, who had lifted their heads, quietly bowed them once more.
They had seen the clan's long-cherished wish come true. That was enough for them.
Ma Jin-un asked,
"Shall we sever the tendons as well?"
"What a foolish question, befitting a fool. Do you expect the household servants to bear the burden of your uselessness? Feel the full weight of your powerlessness and live on. You should never have dared touch my grandson."
The Tyrant spat out his words.
His grandson's safety had been threatened. In that moment, he was not only the former Divine Sword Order's leader, but also Ma Yeonjeok, the grandfather.
He knew the threats looming over the Desolate Fortress as the world descended into chaos, yet he accepted the loss of power.
Punishment and discipline were essential to maintaining order.
He had to discipline those who had nearly become enemies to his grandson.
The two purposes aligned. No one could stop him.
The Tyrant Ma Yeonjeok had returned. Even the Desolate Fortress' Lord and the Elder Council's Head would find it difficult to intervene.
"Carry it out."
Ma Yeonjeok commanded.
The order was brief, and the response was immediate.
Huuup!
Huuuhk—!
Twenty people began coughing up blood. They had reversed their own internal energy.
With violent surges of energy, their dantians were torn apart. It was the spirit of a prestigious martial clan that cultivated domineering martial arts.
Receiving the command of the fully returned Ma Yeonjeok, they had no hesitation in committing symbolic self-destruction as martial artists.
A scene of hell unfolded.
The garden's grass was stained with splashes of blood. More and more people staggered and collapsed.
Among those kneeling in submission, a young man trembled.
It was white-rank warrior Ma Ung, who had been overpowered by Chung Myung standing guard. Though he had been prepared, fear still consumed him.
"Now, I must destroy my dantian..."
It was then.
Suddenly, his eyes met another's.
The noble Radiant Demon Squad's leader was quietly looking down at him.
* * *
Mount Zhongnan is one of the origins of Taoism.
The mountain range stretched endlessly with its lush, green curves. It was the natural boundary dividing northern and southern Shaanxi.
On its gentle ridges sat Taoist temples and Buddhist monasteries, their grand halls adding a fresh spiritual energy to the mountain's aura.
Not anymore.
Thick smoke billowed from various spots along the ridge. The flames of a massive forest fire, glowing crimson, raged across the mountains.
The blazing inferno roared, its orange embers shooting upward without pause, evidence of an extraordinary event.
"How petty… you are."
The man was strikingly handsome. His ears, sharp like blades, protruded noticeably.
Blood seeped through the yellow cloak torn in several places. He sat amidst the debris of shattered roof tiles.
He was Gu-yang Cheon, the Nine Yang Duke.
He was also the leader of the Zhongnan Sect, an unparalleled master who did not match the sight of the fallen sword lying next to him.
"You neglected the fact that you're also, even if partially, from the noble race. You've been closely watching the energy of our headquarters, haven't you?"
He spoke, looking up at the man standing with his back to the flames.
A large shadow cast over Gu Yang-cheon's face wavered wildly.
The shadow swayed grotesquely, as if dancing to the flames, its vigor overwhelming and hard to comprehend.
Gu Yang-cheon's entire body was drenched in blood from the sword strikes, yet the enemy maintained a disturbingly stable balance.
The Nine Yang Duke, Gu Yang-cheon, was the head of one of the Nine Great Sects. No master could dominate him in a one-sided fight.
This time was no exception. The outcome was determined in a fleeting moment.
"You waited until after my master's ascension to attack. As the sect's leader, aren't you ashamed? You truly are the leader of the Demonic Faction, possessing such an awakened sword technique yet…"
Gu Yang-cheon asked, his voice fading.
A faint laugh echoed in response. The shadow-covered man chuckled softly.
It sounded like it resonated from the depths of a cave. His voice was deep and gravelly.
"The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan."
The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader remembered the old man who was called the Sword Immortal.
"I know it wasn't an ascension."
He continued.
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan had not ascended through enlightenment.
He had died due to the overbearing energy from the heavens. His upper dantian could not withstand the immense force between heaven and earth.
What had a man of such deep cultivation desired so desperately to meet such an end?
Attempts to investigate had yielded no answers, as none of the disciples from the Zhongnan Sect had spoken a word.
It was both absurd and tragic. The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader had briefly considered cutting off their heads.
Then—
Gu Yang-cheon's lips quivered.
"The lifeline of our sect will continue. You may destroy the gates of Zhongnan and break our plaques, but you cannot touch the spiritual essence of Mount Zhongnan. That is your limit."
"Are you talking about the disciples you had escape? I know. That's why I ordered two to be captured."
The man's shaded face subtly twisted its lips.
"Wei-Ji Myohwa, the Cloud Sword Dragon, and Jung Hye-ah, the Sword Immortal's former disciple. Both are potential threats to my sect. The girl whom the Sword Immortal cherished in his later years is said to share blood with the current Radiant Demon Squad's leader. You're hoping for intervention from the Desolate Fortress, aren't you?"
"...!"
"Your swordsmanship was remarkable. Now, die."
The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader moved the hand holding his sword.
Hwoosh.
The massive greatsword shimmered like a flame as it merged with the shadow.
* * *
Jung Yeonshin made his way toward the Radiant Demon Squad's residence, accompanied by his senior subordinates.
"It's like the world has turned upside down."
"Leader, did you always have knowledge of medicine?"
"That's not it. Haven't you seen him training his pupils' eyes? His internal energy cultivation must have been extraordinary from the beginning."
"Who would have thought the Tyrant would achieve rejuvenation… I was frozen and couldn't even move."
"Maybe we'll get some breathing room."
"Don't be complacent. The Central Plains is vast, and only two from the purple rank are here."
"We don't know how the imperial family will react."
Their chatter wasn't without merit.
Jung Yeonshin quietly acknowledged it.
His maternal grandfather's actions had been no small matter. Zhu Yeon-jeong, although from a collateral branch, was still a bona fide member of the imperial family.
Even if Ma Yeonjeok had issued a punishment befitting the situation, discussions with the imperial family would still be necessary.
The Zhu surname carried dignity.
The Ming Dynasty was an empire. It placed utmost importance on the royal family's reputation.
Zhu Yeon-jeong, married into the Desolate Fortress, must have remained under the imperial family's watchful eye.
They couldn't punish Ma Yeonjeok, who had regained his youth.
However, how they might leverage this incident remained unknown. Thus, Ma Yeonjeok sought to shield his grandson from the dirty political turmoil.
He had even suggested taking a boat trip later to drink tea together.
—I will find a way to empower you. No matter what it takes, I intend to see you dressed in the purple robes. But before that… I am truly ashamed. This foolish grandfather mismanaged the family servants.
—You are safe. That is enough.
—Yeonshin, would you allow me to embrace you once?
—No.
Jung Yeonshin recalled his curt response. It was a reflexive remark, made because of the many eyes around them.
He pictured his grandfather's lion-like aura softening as he smiled awkwardly.
'May he live a long and healthy life.'
His heart warmed as he thought of this, even as the two nameless disciples standing guard at the gates of Radiant Demon Squad's residence opened the doors.
"Leader, the people from the Blood Preservation Squad have arrived."
A seventeen-year-old disciple, Baek Sun-wook, with a robust build, spoke.
He was a loyal and diligent follower, dedicated to training in the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike.
"The Blood Preservation Squad?"
Jung Yeonshin questioned, just as the gates opened.
The guests Baek Sun-wook had mentioned approached immediately, a man and woman, both clad in blue robes.
How long had they been standing there? They had been waiting without entering the inner chambers.
"I am Na Il-cheon of the Blood Preservation Squad."
"And I am Pung Ran."
They resembled Jin Myeongjo, the leader of the Blood Preservation Squad. Both had pale complexions and sharp facial features.
Even their gesture of raising their hands for a bow was graceful.
They exuded a unique atmosphere and a commanding presence in their blue attire.
Their striking appearances were immediately noticeable.
The woman, Pung Ran, who carried a thin, curved blade on her back, spoke.
"We were instructed by the squad leader to deliver the Radiant Demon Squad's transfer order. A message has been sent as well."
She handed over a letter, carefully wrapped in white silk and tightly bound.
The seal on the letter was so meticulously done that it appeared almost sacred.
"What?"
Jung Yeonshin was momentarily bewildered.
Then, something else happened. From a distance—
"Is the owner of the Comprehensive Overview of Destruction here?!"
A booming voice erupted. It roared like a lion's, shaking the surroundings violently.
The sheer energy behind the voice was overwhelming, shaking the gate's handles.
It was the voice of Xiahou Wei-jin.
The powerful energy characteristic of the Desolate Fortress' masters surged. Even before he arrived, the air was already rippling like flames.
His presence was overwhelming. He was charging forward with refined movement techniques.
And he wasn't alone.
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