Inside the quaint room of Wandering Clouds Inn.
"Yeo So-hyang, the Ghost Spirit Sword, is a former matriarch of the Tyrant Sword Tribe. She currently manages the various unorthodox sects under the Tyrant Sword Tribe's control in Xi'an."
Zhuge Hyeon said.
Sitting across from Jung Yeonshin, a round tea table stood between them with only two cups set down.
Even without rice, it was a time when tea was still brewed and enjoyed. The subtle fragrance of tea lingered in the room.
"My clan's annihilation?"
The light of joy faded from the expression of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader.
"I heard that the order was given by the Third Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult."
Jung Yeonshin quietly said, recalling the events within the headquarters of the Blood Flame Cult.
"Enjoying fertile lands beyond their worth."
The Third Apostle had said when clashing with the Seventh Apostle. He had confessed, claiming responsibility for ordering the destruction of the Jung Clan.
And his head had rolled at the Desolate Fortress.
Now, only one enemy remained. Fueled by the same resolve as when he first created the Jung Clan's Movement Arts, determined to uphold the natural order, Jung Yeonshin had narrowed the list of culprits behind the annihilation of his clan to one individual, the leader of the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
Thus, he couldn't help but listen closely to Zhuge Hyeon's words.
"The Ghost Spirit Sword, Yeo So-hyang, was the former caretaker of the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader and is known as an aging, formidable swordswoman."
As he spoke, Zhuge Hyeon glanced curiously at Jung Yeonshin's now-lengthened limbs.
"Once capable of competing with the Thirteen Celestial Demons, she reportedly fell into decline after mastering her sect's tyrannical martial arts. Nevertheless, she is formidable. Aside from the leaders of the major sects, only Sage Cheon Joo of Mount Hua could match her prowess."
"Tell me about the incident involving my clan."
"She's an eccentric who enjoys surveying land through her flying sword technique. It's said that she assessed the energy veins of the Jung Clan's domain and reported back to the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader. Yeo So-hyang often boasts about the exceptional martial artists she's raised. She supposedly revealed her role while bragging about the numerous damages her sect inflicted on the Desolate Fortress."
"Yeo So-hyang."
Jung Yeonshin murmured softly.
The matriarch of the Tyrant Sword Tribe, the one who had replaced the Zhongnan Sect and taken over the unorthodox martial world.
His internal energy senses couldn't detect any lies in Zhuge Hyeon's words. Zhuge Hyeon was a hero who had refined a cultivation technique more remarkable than any doctrine. He was the complete opposite of Jung Yeonshin's own brothers.
There was no reason to doubt him.
"Let's focus on the immediate matter."
Jung Yeonshin said, closing and reopening his eyes to suppress the storm of thoughts triggered by this revelation.
Eventually, he would encounter her when driving out the unorthodox sects from Xi'an.
"We've agreed to a showdown at noon at the Great Moon Gorge. The message came from the sect leader of Sublime Land Sect."
"Yeo So-hyang won't descend personally."
Zhuge Hyeon replied.
"Why not?"
"She's someone who disregards everything but the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader. She wouldn't intervene from the start in a squabble among her subordinate sects, no matter how substantial the forces involved."
"That's true. The skill level of the local unorthodox factions is higher than I expected. They're closer to mid-level sects rather than mere street thugs."
"There have been reports of their heinous deeds. They treat the lives of commoners like candies in their pockets. To confirm the situation, I had no choice but to visit in person."
Zhuge Hyeon said.
Jung Yeonshin had witnessed the same horrors. Countless corpses lay along the path to the city gates.
These were the bodies of those who had been plundered during the famine, their remains still shimmering with traces of sinister martial arts energy, like the smoke rising from incense.
"Their numbers are overwhelming. All of them have properly learned the martial arts of the Demonic Faction. Considering a retreat might be wise. The entire city seems hostile toward you."
Zhuge Hyeon cautiously suggested.
The Murim Alliance had already investigated the situation. The unorthodox sects were different from the righteous alliance.
They didn't openly run businesses or receive charitable donations. Instead, they extorted protection fees from other establishments and openly collected tributes.
Naturally, they were extremely territorial.
Although they often fought among themselves, they united quickly when faced with external threats. Their combined nature reflected mid-level sects mixed with the characteristics of street gangs.
Even the righteous scholars of the martial world regarded their unity as strange. Their swift coordination had torn apart the existing order of the Zhongnan Sect. They had divided the spoils among themselves in no time.
They were like siblings wounding each other but coming together when a formidable outsider appeared.
As the Lazy Flame Dragon had experienced, they restricted the supply of food and had their leaders vanish from sight.
This was due to concerns about being picked off individually. It seemed they intended to remain hidden until the day of the decisive battle.
They had an exceptional eye for recognizing powerful enemies.
"The unorthodox martial world strictly follows the law of survival of the fittest. The leaders of powerful unorthodox sects are constantly vigilant of any supreme martial artists who appear. To protect their interests, they'll strike down even the most formidable opponents by any means necessary."
Zhuge Hyeon calmly continued.
"There's also the option of gradually eradicating them from within. An all-out confrontation may be faster, but it's far riskier. That's why I'm suggesting you consider retreat. Even a supreme martial artist would struggle against ten thousand skilled fighters."
He fidgeted with the fan he had taken out of his pocket. It seemed like a habit.
The steam from the tea had dissipated, leaving only the lingering aroma. A moment of silence filled the quiet room.
Jung Yeonshin didn't respond.
* * *
At the Great Moon Gorge, which lay adjacent to the expansive Guanzhong Plain.
Warriors with sinister auras poured in from all directions. The power of the Demonic Faction was undeniable.
Unlike the petty thugs pretending to be martial artists, these warriors radiated deadly intent.
Hundreds of them headed toward the mountain range outside the city. The location, known as the Great Moon Gorge, had been chosen for some specific purpose.
"I don't see the point of going this far."
"You're right. Just until a few weeks ago, we were crossing swords."
"He's supposedly a supreme martial artist who won't leave the city. If we fought in the city center, everything would be destroyed. Isn't that all our property?"
"A supreme martial artist… is that even true?"
"The techniques of the sect leader above us have been acknowledged even by our clan head. If this turns out to be a bluff, the Sublime Land Sect will be wiped out, not us, but those fools from Yeoryeong."
People of all sorts made their way up the mountain. There were those with hair trailing to their feet and bald individuals. Many carried strange weapons.
There were oddly curved swords, oversized blades with circular centers, gauntlets with attached blades, chain-linked sickles, and flexible, whip-like swords.
They climbed the mountain while noisily chattering.
None of them seemed tense. Considering the dense, cloud-like aura gathered in one place, it was understandable.
There were hundreds of warriors properly trained in demonic martial arts. Some even seemed to be treating this as a playful excursion.
"Why don't we target some other fertile land while we're at it?"
"What about Yangyang?"
"Are you insane? Attack the Desolate Fortress?"
"I heard the land there is incredibly fertile. With this much power, wouldn't we be invincible?"
There was a reason they hadn't attacked the lodgings of the 'Leader'. The open plains of the Great Moon Gorge, with its vast mountainous terrain, provided an ideal stage for demonstrating their strength.
By using a powerful supreme martial artist as an example, they intended to solidify their control over Xi'an's unorthodox sects. Their patience had reached its limit on the day of the final confrontation.
Meanwhile, a larger group of commoners, merchants, and wandering martial artists followed from a distance.
"So, this is a public execution?"
"The so-called leader and the sect leaders haven't shown themselves at all."
"Isn't avoiding the fight a sign of defeat? I'll bet on the sect leaders. How could a mere outsider withstand the dominance of Xi'an's unorthodox sects?"
"Even so, the scale of this battle is comparable to a war between major factions."
"It's not uncommon."
The people of Xi'an were known for their dual nature. They would bow when necessary but also displayed vigorous curiosity when it came to entertainment.
Xi'an had long been a major city where the Zhongnan Sect and Mount Hua clashed with the Demonic Faction. Its large population was filled with daring locals.
The massive gorge, despite its vastness, was fully packed.
And then.
The leaders of the unorthodox sects revealed themselves. Seven men and women. With their disciples and subordinates behind them, they stepped into the plain at the bottom of the gorge.
Each exuded an extraordinary aura, making the majestic mountains seem to hold their breath.
The leaders of the Sublime Land Sect, White Sun Sect, Absolute Severance Sect, Great Spirit Thunder Sect, Sword Demon Sect, Heaven's End Sword Sect, and Radiant Moon Clan had all arrived.
They were masters who could be considered unbeatable in most regions.
"How formidable will they be, I wonder? For such a grand display to be arranged by a sect leader renowned throughout the world."
A man with thick eyebrows and piercing eyes said.
A long scar ran across his cheek. He wore a traditional, black bamboo hat that covered much of his white hair.
The aura emanating from him caused smoke to rise from the dirt floor. It was both mystical and menacing.
He was Baek Mu-ryang, the leader of the Radiant Moon Clan, one of the Three Great Experts of Xi'an's unorthodox factions alongside Wei Il-hwa and Jang Gi-il.
"Perhaps the black rank of the Desolate Fortress has come alone? If the sect leader is making such a fuss, then maybe it's true. If so, I'd be ready to flee without a second thought."
Baek Mu-ryang said, the tips of his white beard twitching slyly.
Wei Il-hwa, standing in the center, scoffed. He knew Baek Mu-ryang well.
He was the most insidious person present. His words could not be taken lightly. A response, even if in jest, was required.
"I won't stop you. If you want to be the laughingstock of the martial world, so be it."
"You're still as heartless as ever, Sect Leader Wei."
Baek Mu-ryang surveyed the surroundings and smiled faintly. The aura from the Demonic Faction filled the plains below the gorge.
It could rival the martial army of the Profound Martial Alliance's Thirteen Celestial Demons.
'A magnificent sight.'
Baek Mu-ryang thought. This was why the other unorthodox sect leaders had followed Wei Il-hwa's lead.
The people of Xi'an and its surrounding areas were watching this spectacle, with the gorge packed to the brim. As they looked down, their expressions hinted at reverence toward those above.
With this, the sect leaders had achieved their goal. The outcome was already decided.
An overwhelming display of martial power, comparable to that of a small nation, had gathered here. The commoners of Shaanxi Province had assembled in droves. Some would say the entire world was watching.
There was no grander display of strength than this. Even the talk of the black rank of the Desolate Fortress was irrelevant.
Hundreds of chaotic auras tangled, spread, and carved into the ground below, creating the illusion of an army filling the plains. The sight was truly overwhelming.
None present had ever witnessed such power before.
Unless they were the Tyrant Sword Tribe or Yeoryeong Sect, no one could contend with this force. They had fully secured the control needed to squeeze the commoners even during famine.
Those who once dreamed of rebellion would now take up plows instead of swords. The common folk would submit and fatten the bellies of Xi'an's unorthodox factions without a second thought.
With every failed harvest, they would be forced to work even harder.
The righteous sects had been driven out, and the unorthodox factions had risen to dominance.
"Our martial world is complete."
Baek Mu-ryang's lips curved into a grin.
Suddenly, their expressions froze as a lone figure descended before them.
Step.
A black robe, long enough to cover his back, fluttered as he landed. His jet-black hair, which draped over his shoulders, rippled along with the fluttering cloak.
A boy, clad in black leather shoes, silently touched down, despite the distance he had leaped.
"What a formidable movement technique. He appeared as nothing more than a dot from afar."
Baek Mu-ryang muttered, narrowing the wrinkles between his brows.
The newcomer did not respond.
His jet-black eyes glimmered serenely as he lifted his sharply defined chin, scanning the hundreds of unorthodox warriors gathered on the plains.
His gaze alone created a palpable pressure. Silence spread along the path of his eyes.
Wei Il-hwa, seeing his face for the first time, bit her lip lightly.
"Is this the boy they were talking about?"
"He's not as young as he looks. Treat him as an elder of the martial world."
Baek Mu-ryang said, feigning a smile.
"One does not need to clash swords to recognize your level of skill. You can walk the martial world alone, wherever you go. In regions like these, your survival isn't in question, no matter how severe the famine."
"…"
"But look here. A fight between a lone expert and an organized force is a different matter. It's far more complicated and demanding. The romantic notion of the martial world does not apply here. No one will blame you if you withdraw now."
At that moment, the young swordsman opened his mouth.
"Are you the leader of the Radiant Moon Clan?"
"Indeed."
"And these gathered here... they're all from the Seven Unorthodox Sects of Xi'an?"
"Exactly. No riffraff here, I assure you."
"You've looted, injured, and killed indiscriminately, enslaving commoners and using every method possible to refine your martial arts."
"What nonsense. I see you have no intention of leaving."
Dust swirled violently beneath Baek Mu-ryang's feet. His aura spiraled like a sudden gust of wind.
This was the precursor to the Radiant Moon Conquering Technique, a martial art passed down through his clan. His plan was simple: withstand the first blow, then crush the intruder with their martial army.
Whoosh!
The sound of pebbles colliding with the ground echoed, carried by the strong wind. Wei Il-hwa's silk robe fluttered flamboyantly in the gale.
The curved smile on his lips matched the silken flow of his aura, which was almost transparent.
Hwaaa!
The other sect leaders were no less impressive. Blades sparkled as their wielders emitted radiant auras, scattering light in every direction.
The noise was deafening, drowning out any words.
In the midst of it all—
"So, you acknowledge it."
Jung Yeonshin nodded slightly.
He maintained a dignified composure, more serene than anyone present. As he moved his lips, only the unorthodox sect leaders standing before him could hear.
"By the authority of this leader—"
"…?"
"I command the Radiant Demon Squad to subdue these vermin."
The moment he spoke those words, a signal arrow shot up from the ridge behind him.
Whiiiiiiiiish—!
The whistle of the arrow was long, resembling the cry of a giant bird. It was a whistling arrow, imbued with immense internal energy.
It was a technique of Moon Bow Demon Wei Ye-ryeong. The arrow, carrying the formidable power of the Desolate Fortress' elite, tore through the unorthodox sect leaders' auras like a beam of light.
Bang!
The arrow pierced through three unorthodox warriors and buried itself into the ground. The triple booms of its impact echoed like cannon fire.
There was no time for screams. The tightly packed warriors scattered in panic.
"What the—?"
"His reinforcements have arrived!"
As Wei Il-hwa and Baek Mu-ryang widened their eyes, a colossal wave of energy surged from the side of the gorge. It wasn't mist or clouds, it was closer to the brilliance of the sun.
The martial artist ascending the cliff as if it were flat ground had gone unnoticed, but now, their presence surged like a second dawn.
Twenty-eight radiant swords appeared, their brilliance shimmering in the sunlight as if their very bodies had transformed into blades.
Even those who weren't holding swords seemed to radiate sword energy. They generated their own sunlight.
Compared to the vast number of warriors on the plains below, they were just a handful.
But their presence was entirely different.
This group included elite martial artists from noble families. Although their uniforms varied in color, their aura was unified, exuding an overwhelming force.
Boom!
The moment they revealed themselves, they kicked off the ground and descended. Nearly thirty men and women leapt from the ridge like hawks diving for prey.
As they touched the boulders, the white light surrounding their weapons and bodies grew denser, creating a scene of divine grandeur.
This was one of the seventeen divisions of the Divine Sword Order, known as the Wings of the Desolate Fortress, purging the world of demons.
"Wh-what is that?!"
The martial army of Xi'an's unorthodox sects faltered. It was too sudden. The intruders had closed the distance in no time, their identities unknown, and their techniques like a mass of blinding light.
In the blink of an eye, their speed increased, flashing like lightning.
The Radiant Demon Squad unleashed its power. Waves of brilliant energy burst in all directions.
Kwooooom—!
In an instant, the unleashed energy shook the ground and tore through the air.
Blinding white waves of radiant energy collided with the unorthodox warriors, sending shockwaves that surged in every direction.
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