The air was clear. A breeze slipped through the crack of the door, having passed over the wall.
Winter had forced its way into the room, where the Radiant Demon Squad's leader sat upright. With his elbows resting on the wooden armrests of the chair, his posture seemed imposing.
Even the way he raised his chin casually had the same effect. Lazy Flame Dragon, who had recently left the room, had praised him as the embodiment of a raging storm.
Jianghu.
It was not something to be spoken of lightly. The martial world was vast. Across the endlessly sprawling lands, all kinds of eccentric figures and beings with otherworldly powers roamed.
Even Jung Yeonshin had spoken only in generalities.
His perspective was still limited. He had not even witnessed half of the Thirteen Celestial Demons and their respective forces. Disrupting the power structure of the Thirteen Celestial Demons with the current technique would not be easy.
'It's fine.'
Shaking up Xi'an in Shaanxi Province was enough.
The plan was to distract the Demonic Faction in Xi'an using the technique and to make it easier for righteous warriors lying in wait to confront them.
He hoped it would give breathing room to Jung Hye-ah and Wei Ji Myohwa, who were hiding somewhere. He wished for them to gain the advantage in both martial prowess and circumstance.
"Thank you."
Jung Yeonshin once again expressed his gratitude to Zhuge Qing-ya.
This came after Lazy Flame Dragon and Heon Wonchang had cleared out the underlings of the Sublime Land Sect who were lurking at the inn.
The two had captured Gal Do-jin and So Yu-ryang, sealed their vital acupoints, and confined them to one of the inn's rooms before allowing the squad leader to use an adjacent annex.
They had traveled over ten days from Desolate Fortress.
― Even a martial artist's muscles get tired from such grueling journeys. You should rest a full day in the annex.
After hearing Lazy Flame Dragon's advice, he had fallen asleep.
The bedding was of high quality, and the quilt embroidered with ten longevity symbols was soft, as if stuffed with ample cotton.
It was a bed he could enjoy all to himself. He curled up comfortably until dawn awakened him.
― We should extract information first. News from a region dominated by the Thirteen Celestial Demons is hard to come by elsewhere, and even the local officials seem to have been bought off.
― A message came from Senior Baek. Everyone has safely arrived and scattered. White-rank's group was led by So-bin.
While Lazy Flame Dragon interrogated the two demonic sect members, Heon Wonchang had gone to fetch breakfast.
Both men were clearly of noble upbringing. With a proper place to sleep, their complexions had brightened noticeably.
And now.
Across from the squad leader, Zhuge Qing-ya sat at the crimson zitanwood table. Her pale face looked lively.
Even though this was her first time meeting with the squad leader alone, her expression remained calm. She swept her jet-black hair tied with sky-blue silk over her neck, causing Jung Yeonshin to look on uneasily.
"No matter what…"
"Pardon?"
"You really have a physique that makes it easy for close-range grabs. Is the effectiveness of the completed technique really that exceptional?"
"…"
Zhuge Qing-ya blinked once and silently gazed at her squad leader.
Her expression remained unreadable, much like that of the Zhuge Clan's leader. It seemed she simply could not find the right words to reply.
"Never mind."
Jung Yeonshin closed his mouth.
Why leave such an obvious weakness exposed when her body was so sluggish? Perhaps it was because he had been worried ever since he had taken responsibility for the Radiant Demon Squad.
It wasn't unnecessary meddling, it was concern for the squad leader's well-being. If something serious were to happen, it would tear him apart.
'I'll discuss it with the Radiant Demon Squad's blue-ranks.'
The new squad leader brushed aside his thoughts.
He had been absorbing the intricacies of the Sight Arts from Zhuge Qing-ya. There was much to learn. Creating new martial techniques always involved deep exploration, but the Sight Arts was especially profound.
Perhaps because it didn't rely on striking techniques. Its concepts were extensive and worth thorough examination.
At that moment.
Creak.
Heon Wonchang entered with the tip of his foot nudging the door open. Both hands carried a breakfast tray. The Desolate Fortress' Sacred Warrior was also skilled in detecting poisons.
Since Xi'an's streets were the main base of the Demonic Faction, he had personally supervised the inn's kitchen staff to ensure the food was free from poison.
"The food is safe. However…"
He placed the large tray in the center of the table.
Due to the famine, the meal was not very diverse. The dishes consisted of kung pao chicken and wide-cut knife-sliced noodles, both emitting fragrant aromas.
Heon Wonchang handed over a sealed letter.
The scroll of paper still carried the faint scent of ink that had yet to dry.
Without a word, Jung Yeonshin took it and raised an eyebrow. He had sensed an approaching presence from outside just moments ago.
The energy fluctuation had been fairly powerful, and its nature was particularly solid. Just as he had considered going out to confront them, they had abruptly turned back.
Jung Yeonshin unfurled the letter.
― I won't ask where you came from. At noon on the day of Light Snow, let us measure our strength beneath the Great Moon Gorge. The loser withdraws.
After skimming the brief message, he spoke slowly.
"They're cautious."
Heon Wonchang shrugged.
"That's for sure. They came all high and mighty as if they were ready for war."
In Zhuge Qing-ya's presence, he maintained polite speech. Jung Yeonshin smiled faintly and stood.
Step, step.
He walked directly to the window.
The room spanned the entire third floor, providing a wide view.
When he cast his gaze downward, he saw people carrying luggage, carts, and baskets strapped to their backs.
Despite the famine, the streets bustled with activity, a testament to the city's wealth.
'That's probably why so many demonic warriors have gathered.'
Jung Yeonshin's eyes sharpened. The long stretch of roadside shops and pavilions came into view, along with a swordswoman walking in the distance accompanied by her subordinates.
Sublime Land Sect's leader, the Demon Scattering Sword, Wei Il-hwa.
True to her moniker, which meant "scattering demonic seeds", sinister energy wafted through her long, flowing hair.
Her aura was strong yet erratic, and it was palpable even from a considerable distance.
Jung Yeonshin parted his lips while gazing beyond the window.
"Mok-mi, take dictation."
"Yes."
Zhuge Qing-ya, addressed by her pseudonym, opened her writing tools. She ground the inkstone and prepared the brush and paper.
It didn't take long. Within a few breaths, she was ready to write.
Jung Yeonshin leaned against the window frame.
'Awaken.'
The veins running alongside his Adam's apple and down to his solar plexus pulsed lightly, the carotid arteries.
Along with his nerves, they filled with a faint glow of energy, which then wrapped around the vessels extending from his eyes to his brain.
Buzz.
Jung Yeonshin controlled his energy with precision.
The flow began from the clear-bright acupoint at his temples, circled beneath his eyes to the Four Whites acupoint, traveled to the Tongziliao point near his eyes, and finally passed through the Zan Zhu acupoint at the center of his brows. His eyes heated up.
The energy was supposed to converge at the Baihui acupoint at the crown of his head, but there was still the risk of energy deviation due to the incomplete flow structure.
'Observe.'
As soon as he infused his intent with observation and reflection, blurry visions formed in his field of view. The liveliness of the people on the street surged into his sight.
There was no distinct form or figure to note. His sensory perception had simply become slightly more sensitive. He wasn't yet able to observe previously hidden phenomena.
This was because the flow had not yet reached the sensory pathways connected to the Baihui acupoint.
He spoke without thinking.
"Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Other practitioners typically begin experiencing drastic improvements in dynamic vision at this stage. But it takes decades of training to reach that level."
"It's still not usable."
Jung Yeonshin accepted Zhuge Qing-ya's response calmly.
She lowered her gaze, her emerald eyes dimming as she once again focused on her task. Holding the brush with her pale fingers, she furrowed her brows slightly.
Heon Wonchang smirked as he watched her.
It was a smug grin. The Sacred Warrior had once ghostwritten part of the Comprehensive Overview of Destruction, but he had recently lost the position to the famed calligrapher Zhuge Qing-ya.
"Sublime Land Sect, their combat approach."
As the squad leader's words fell, Zhuge Qing-ya, who had briefly glanced at him leaning against the window, began to transcribe.
"They use all their body muscles evenly when walking. Their thigh muscles don't rise high, and there's no protrusion from any specific area, making their movements inherently stealthy and defensive. Their center of gravity is low, and with a sudden shift in direction using a specific maneuver, their balance can be easily disrupted. Let me recite the corresponding directions, Later Heaven's Eight Trigrams: Kan, Kun, Qian."
"...It's written."
"Both arms sway subtly at the waist, the energy flowing from the emitted energy is calm compared to its force. Be cautious of sudden sword strikes. The extensor muscles of the right arm and the biceps are well-developed, so they must be proficient in upward strikes using swift sword techniques, but the energy at the Neiguan acupoint in the wrist is not particularly strong."
"Hold on a moment."
"...Is it done?"
"Yes."
"They rely on the sharpness of their blade and the flashiness of their techniques. If you counter their first strike with a powerful sword move, you can secure victory. Even if you go all-in for a single strike, it won't be dangerous. I'll describe the energy flow structure of their defensive techniques, so take note of it separately."
The voice had no inflection. It flowed out calmly, and even when questioned, the tone remained the same.
"There's enough margin, right? Anyone could know up to this point, but there are people who obsess over annotations."
"..."
A small crack appeared in Zhuge Qing-ya's expressionless face. Her long lashes lifted slightly.
It was a moment that inevitably raised questions. What kind of abilities would be embodied in the Sight Arts created by someone like him?
'I don't know.'
She tightened her lips slightly before picking up her brush again.
* * *
'That's a monster.'
The Demon Scattering Sword, Wei Il-hwa, quickened her steps.
Her instinct, which had saved her life hundreds of times within the Demonic Faction, urged her to retreat.
The Sublime Land Sect was a branch under Yeoryeong Sect's command. The intelligence network of the Thirteen Celestial Demons rivaled even that of the Beggars' Sect. The secretive martial arts they possessed was no ordinary high-level technique.
She had been personally granted the Dark Moon Overstepping Technique by the leader of Yeoryeong Sect. It was an unparalleled martial arts, an honor she did not take lightly.
With her jet-black, gleaming eyes, she scrutinized the man in front of her. Her ability was akin to x-ray vision, allowing her to see through walls and assess the energy hidden within.
Then, she abruptly turned her steps, using her inner breathing to calm her pounding heart.
'Is there another person like him in the world?!'
His internal energy density was staggering—terrifying, even.
She couldn't fully analyze his nature. The fault wasn't in the Dark Moon Overstepping Technique but in her own limitations.
If she had the power to penetrate the essence of someone suppressing such tremendous energy, she would have already unified Xi'an's martial world.
She returned straight to the guesthouse.
Without hesitation, she climbed to the top-floor suite and sat on a throne-like chair made of carved ebony wood. The chair, with its pitch-black armrests, was her throne. It gave her the same sense of omnipotence it always did.
The ruler of the Demonic Faction in Xi'an.
Saa—
The cool texture quickly warmed.
Her entire body emanated heat from her fiery yang energy. The disciples kneeling at her feet broke into a sweat.
Her slightly wrinkled eyes softened gently. Wei Il-hwa muttered briefly, this was her place.
"Send word. Spread it across all of Xi'an."
She spoke.
"Don't discriminate between factions, whether it's the Tyrant Sword Tribe, the White Sun Sect, the Absolute Severance Pavilion, the Great Spirit Thunder Sect, , the Sword Demon Sect, Heaven's End Sword Sect, Radiant Moon Clan. Let them know that an unmatched master has arrived, one whom we cannot face alone."
* * *
Three days passed.
The weather was pleasant. The dense mountains were draped in the lingering mist of early winter.
The grass, bowing toward the ground, exhaled faint breath into the hazy air.
Sunlight bathed the silent scenery. Wild animals, having eaten their fill early, retreated into the depths of the forest.
At the lakeside, where the waterfall's roar echoed, patches of thin ice had formed. Standing on one such patch, a man clad in a jet-black cloak observed the surroundings.
It was Jin Myeongjo, the Blood Preservation Squad's leader.
His stance on the iridescent ice was stable.
Even though he was balanced only on the balls of his feet, he didn't appear the least bit precarious. What was precarious, however, was his mind.
Jin Myeongjo, with a blank expression, parted his lips.
'Damn it.'
He couldn't bring himself to say it aloud, only mouthing the words.
He could sense the energy of his junior approaching from the ridgeline, it was vicious. The faint traces of mystical energy were already raking across his skin.
His heightened sensitivity as a master only made it clearer, but it didn't make him any more comfortable. If anything, it terrified him.
Recently, his junior's sharp gaze had become increasingly bizarre. Meeting them was always an ordeal, but as a senior, he couldn't afford to show it.
In truth, he wasn't confident.
Internally, he had been screaming for a long time. This wasn't a one- or two-day ordeal.
Does his junior truly not know? Or was he secretly enjoying all of this?
Jin Myeongjo, also known as the Sacred Blood Demon, juggled conflicting thoughts, rejecting them only to have them resurface.
It was a cycle that had repeated dozens of times, until, inevitably, it reached the same conclusion.
Damn it, probably not.
'He's coming.'
He forced strength into his lips.
Even maintaining a blank expression required effort.
He focused on the muscles from his cheekbones to his zygomaticus and up to the corners of his mouth, making them the target of his external energy control. There was even a formal method for maintaining a lofty, cold demeanor.
It was a fabricated coolness.
Before his junior's head fully emerged over the ridge, Jin Myeongjo coldly muttered,
"You're late."
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