One day prior.
The passage left behind by Jin Hyung, the acting representative of the Radiant Demon Squad, was shockingly radical.
One could say that everyone near Xi'an had gathered. Status was irrelevant.
Both commoners and martial artists alike had heard the news. If things went awry, the Elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe might descend to the land.
Ghost Spirit Sword, Yeo So-hyang.
Even within the Thirteen Celestial Demons, she was a renowned figure. In Henan Province, she was often compared to Baek Seo-gun, known as the Sword Sovereign.
In terms of age, the Eternal Heaven Sword Demon was far younger. However, their martial prowess and reputations were subjects of constant debate, neck and neck.
"She may not be a match for that child yet..."
Baek Seo-gun muttered.
She was perched on the roof of a pavilion, one knee up as she sat idly.
Lately, she found herself speaking aloud more often. Perhaps it was because the life of the Jung Clan, something she had long considered fundamental, had seeped into her heart.
Or maybe it was because of the words that damned man, Jin Hyung, had written, words that gnawed at her mind.
— Chivalrous warriors still pity the lacking, and thus their noble ideals bloom everywhere. They have engraved the teachings of their sects and parents into their hearts.
What kind of teachings had Jung Daemyung, the Lord of the Jung Clan, instilled in Lightning Genius? What was in Lightning Genius' heart when he threw himself into the Desolate Fortress?
How had he grown into a warrior who placed the stability of the people above all else? How could he be so righteous, so unwaveringly selfless?
Baek Seo-gun was a sword demon, one who wielded the blade with unparalleled mastery, yet she could not find a single answer to these rising questions.
The countless sword paths in her mind were all useless. If only she had been more forthright in her words and actions when she first met Lightning Genius.
'Jung Ban-ak, Jung Ban-ak... That wretched libertine, if only he had acted like a proper father....'
— No doubt because he had no parents.
She flinched.
Her short gray hair brushed against her shoulder.
At that moment.
"Sword Sovereign, the leader urgently requests your presence."
A voice, impossibly respectful, resonated from beneath the roof. She didn't need to look to know.
The commander of the Profound Martial Alliance's military force. A person of such high status in the martial world that they rarely showed themselves.
Yet to Sword Sovereign Baek Seo-gun, such things were meaningless.
She slowly parted her lips.
"I told the leader about winter. The reprieve is long. Tell me why I am being summoned so soon."
"..."
Baek Seo-gun smirked. She flicked back the hair at her temple and rubbed her nape, exuding both authority and unrestrained boldness, creating a peculiar atmosphere.
"It's not the leader, is it? The young successor must be causing a ruckus."
"I apologize."
"You have disrupted my thoughts. How do you intend to pay the price?"
"I considered my left arm."
"The commander's left arm. Quite appropriate. I will take it under consideration."
"Sword Sovereign...!"
"Begone. The crime of daring to lie before me, when I return to the headquarters, I will ensure that fool is severely punished. He is not even worthy of being called an inexperienced successor. He cannot even match the footsteps of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader of Desolate Fortress."
Her voice was as chilling as the moonlight glistening upon her silvered hair.
The commander of the Profound Martial Alliance hesitated before finally muttering that he would return the next day.
* * *
The day of the decisive battle.
"This way! Step here!"
"Do not cut in line. I may very well send you ahead of the rest with my own hands."
At some point, Zhuge Hyeon and Lazy Flame Dragon had arrived at the base of the opposite peak.
Amidst the disastrous landslide caused by Ghost Spirit Sword, they were breaking apart boulders and clearing dust, helping civilians escape. They were righteous chivalrous warriors.
The elite warriors of the Radiant Demon Squad, scattered widely around Great Moon Gorge, were doing the same. They used their energy techniques to create escape routes.
Rather than maintaining a facade of the demonic path, they prioritized saving lives.
Rescue, aid—this was the true banner of Desolate Fortress.
Seeing this, some martial artists also began to assist them.
A flower blooming amidst utter chaos.
Even as his heart felt heavy, Jung Yeonshin felt some relief.
"..."
He looked up.
An Elder of the Thirteen Celestial Demons.
A supreme existence in the martial world. A person whom anyone would consider an individual of utmost caution.
Even the wind blowing through the thickets on the hill seemed to whisper so. The rustling of fallen leaves at his feet sounded ominous.
Heh heh—
A strange chuckle slipped from the lips of an old woman standing atop her sword. The Elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
She tittered for a moment before abruptly stopping, as if it had never happened.
"You see it all...."
A hollow laugh laced her words.
"The audacity to speak of the Demonic Faction. Compared to our leader, who remains humble even after reaching the pinnacle, you are beyond arrogant. Even calling you reckless would not suffice."
Her wrinkled face was devoid of emotion.
Ghost Spirit Sword, Yeo So-hyang, was an enigmatic individual.
She seemed easily provoked, yet she studied her opponents with keen scrutiny. Even as she observed the light in Jung Yeonshin's eyes, she did not raise her guard more than necessary.
Despite being an old master who understood the utility of Sight Arts, she did not react.
She knew the difference in their swordsmanship was absolute.
"You are still unrefined."
Yeo So-hyang's eyes gleamed with a manic glint, her insight razor-sharp and terrifyingly powerful.
At a glance, it seemed impossible to imagine her losing. She was, after all, someone who had spent her life as the caretaker of the Leader of the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
"Your perception is lacking. You have trained the leader of the Tyrant Sword Tribe poorly."
Jung Yeonshin's reply was calm. The logic he had learned from Heon Wonchang rolled smoothly off his tongue.
It was fitting enough that he could have taken "Jin Hyung" as his own moniker. He was far more worthy of being an elder brother than his second brother, Jung Jungsan.
"..."
When the old woman fell silent, Jung Yeonshin calculated the distance.
From his waist, where the Beiming Sword rested, to Yeo So-hyang, the gap was considerable.
The sensation that pricked at him as a swordsman, it could be called disparity.
She was overwhelmingly powerful. Creating Sight Arts had only made this awareness more distinct.
The Radiant Demon Squad's leader did not care.
The black rank of Desolate Fortress was one that knew no fear.
There was a foremost virtue, one befitting the position of a squad leader. To clash head-on with a spirit befitting the role. They were warriors who stormed the martial world with military discipline.
Even when at a disadvantage, that was the way.
Rather than concerning himself with the heights of martial arts, he had to maximize his strengths. That was the purpose of the martial arts.
He slowly parted his lips. There was something he had to hear before they began.
"Do you remember the Jung Clan? It was in Xinye, Henan."
Jung Yeonshin asked indifferently.
"The clan that produced the Divine Bow and the Fastest Under Heaven? No, if it's in Henan..."
Yeo So-hyang's eyes narrowed. But only for a moment.
Then, the wrinkles along her temples deepened as she smirked, her lips curling in a silent smile.
"I see. So, you were that child. No wonder you are so absurdly powerful for your age. The Sect Leader's insight is truly impressive."
"Was it you who sent the fiendish beasts?"
"I was merely on my way to an outing. But I happened to see an undeservedly rich land. And as always, fertile soil is meant to be prey for the World Tree. Thus, your clan was fated to wither."
"For that reason alone? There were many commoners in the household my mother chose."
The Jung Clan was a landowning family in Xinye County. Beyond its household members, there were servants and guests who frequently came and went within the inner quarters.
There had even been a servant who always called Jung Yeonshin young master and urged him to eat.
Now, they were gone. Murdered.
A faint vein surfaced on the back of Jung Yeonshin's hand as he gripped the sword hilt at his waist.
The old woman standing atop her blade chuckled.
"How pitiful. You should be grateful for contributing to the Sect Leader's grand aspirations, rather than resentful."
The eyes of the demonic elder made it clear, it had indeed been her will that bathed the Jung Clan in blood.
Jung Yeonshin decided not to show her any courtesy. A deep intensity flashed through his blue eyes.
A distance of one zhang, the air current distorting southeastward, the first strike will be a direct plunge.
Draw the sword back immediately upon Sword Flight, retrieving it in a downward motion. The altitude remains unchanged. A long-range strike.
This was the perspective granted by the Sight Arts. The flood of information pouring into his mind was immense. He integrated the raw sensory input directly into his brain.
Just as grandmasters of the Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown method could manipulate their internal energy at will, he, in contrast, had pushed his body's reaction speed to its very limits.
He drew his inherent aptitude inward. Insight emerged purely from instinct.
"Ghost Spirit Sword."
The Radiant Demon Squad's leader parted his lips.
"Come down."
He stood atop a single sword planted among the trees.
The crisp winter breeze brushed against his black robes, and as he lifted his chin, sunlight delicately traced his sharp features.
A remarkable presence. In terms of enigmatic appearance, he was not inferior to Ghost Spirit Sword.
"There, there!"
"Don't push! Stay calm!"
"No! Look! The Ghost Spirit Sword is right there!"
"The Radiant Arts Master and Ghost Spirit Sword have crossed paths!"
Those descending the landslide-formed hill hesitated. They were the kind of people whose curiosity drove them to witness firsthand the duel of extraordinary demonic masters.
Even with death looming, they could not turn away from a rare spectacle.
Some even retraced their steps. A few martial artists scaled the cliffs like spiders, using Wall-Crawling Techniques.
A confrontation between a young prodigy and a veteran master.
The suffocating tension between them spread in all directions.
The onlookers, whether gazing up from below or watching from afar, swallowed dryly, their eyes fixed on the two.
Few had ever witnessed the Elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe in action. They only acknowledged that she possessed swordsmanship formidable enough to challenge the world.
The Radiant Arts Leader, who had risen after overpowering the seven leaders of Xi'an, was also a subject of great interest.
At last, they clashed.
The sheer pressure exuded by these grandmasters scraped against the skin, steadily intensifying.
The sound of pebbles tumbling, the frantic scurrying of some commoners, all of it was drowned out.
KWAHHH!
A colorless sword gale tore through the air and descended.
By the time anyone noticed, Yeo So-hyang had already slashed through the sky. A devastating sword wave burst forth from her blade.
The crowd had not even seen when she had drawn her sword from beneath her feet. Her movements, fragmented as if discontinuous, seemed to skip through space, a domain exclusive to supreme masters.
'Loyal Severance Desolation-Cleaving Sword Art, Shattered Thunder.'
Jung Yeonshin saw it all. A technique capable of cleaving mountain peaks.
Ghost Spirit Sword, Yeo So-hyang. Even as one who had begun her decline, she retained fragments of swordsmanship that could contend with the supreme masters of the purple rank.
A head-on confrontation was impossible. Jung Yeonshin swiftly analyzed the texture of the sword gale with a mere glance.
The trajectory in his vision matched his predictions. Now, he could even decipher the precursors to techniques wielded by those above his level.
A cold blue glow flickered in the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's eyes.
Step.
He shifted a step sideways, still atop the sword-strewn path.
In that brief instant, he dismantled every webbing of energy surrounding him.
The recoil from the entwining sword aura tugged his body to the left.
KWA-KWAK!
A slashing wind brushed past his head. His hair fluttered violently. A difference of mere inches.
As the sword strike slammed into the ground, a tremor akin to an earthquake erupted. The earth seemed to lurch like a dragon writhing beneath.
"For an old body that's about to plunge into hell, that's quite the swordsmanship. Show me more."
Jung Yeonshin's voice sliced through the wind.
The strike had not been aimed at the mountain peak, it had been concentrated on him.
The angle itself revealed that. It was insufficient to cleave the largest hill in Great Moon Gorge. From the start, he had chosen this location deliberately.
"You insolent brat!"
BANG!
Finally, Yeo So-hyang landed right in front of Jung Yeonshin.
Cracks radiated outward from the impact beneath her feet.
Her landing alone carried the force of an advanced movement technique.
Without warning, her sword thrust forward.
SWISH!
A white light flared. An unbelievably swift sword strike.
Even though it was an instantaneous attack, the energy on the blade distorted the air as if preordained.
At that moment, Jung Yeonshin was already inside her guard.
This was the preemptive strike.
He knew he couldn't yet match the sword techniques of the Elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
That was why he had to see it first, then step in.
He seized her sword-wielding wrist.
His grip wrapped around the wrinkled skin.
A flawlessly executed Golden Flow Hand.
"You little…?"
Their eyes met at close range.
Jung Yeonshin's lips curved into a faint smile.
Without words, the meaning was clear to Yeo So-hyang.
So, this is how it's done.
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