CHAPTER 52

No one acknowledged it at once. It was even more so for those who claimed to follow the righteous path.

Hwangbo Myeong-rin sneered again. Her eyebrows didn't even twitch.

"You're saying I used your junior sister as bait? You must have seen an illusion. Or…"

The corners of her lips curled upward. A smile formed without the slightest hesitation.

"Are you trying to slander me? You lowborn wretch."

"Isn't it you who lacks class?"

It wasn't Jung Yeonshin. The hand restraining the two had been pushed back by Heon Wonchang's body.

Stepping forward, Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior. Stroking the heroic mark on his forehead, he smiled faintly, looking picturesque.

"Talking about lowborns—such words don't suit someone educated."

"What?"

"You must have been fed countless elixirs since childhood, right? I've heard there's a cuisine called 'Lu cuisine' in Shandong. Among them, there's a dish that wraps various ingredients in dumpling skins, said to be exquisite. Maybe you've been fed pages from the Four Books and Three Classics wrapped in elixirs. Is that how the Hwangbo family taught Confucian principles? I heard the Hwangbo clan was prestigious, but it must have been a lie."

His words flowed like a river.

"This wretch dares…?"

Hwangbo Myeong-rin momentarily opened her mouth slightly. Heon Wonchang looked at her cynically.

"They say Shandong cuisine is salty, but your words are terribly bland. Two people witnessed your misdeeds, yet you shamelessly deny them? I've never heard of a fool like Hwangbo Myeong-rin among the noble families of Shandong. Or am I wrong?"

Heon Wonchang glanced around and asked. Those who met his eyes quickly looked away.

A broad smile formed on Heon Wonchang's lips.

"You want to die?"

Hwangbo Myeong-rin stepped forward, her footwork sharp. The energy gathered in her hands was fierce.

In that instant, Jung Yeonshin's hand blurred.

With a sharp slap, her body spun through the air.

Harnessing both physical strength honed through rigorous training and inner power, he struck her cheek.

"Puhuk!"

Hwangbo Myeong-rin sprawled miserably.

The younger generation from other noble families assumed their stances. The eight who drew their swords shone under the bright sunlight.

"If what you say is true, then this is also justified. However, you must understand us."

"There is no neutrality in the martial world. If we are unsure of the truth, we can only side with those we have shared bonds with."

Two of the younger warriors spoke, their tone carrying subtle wariness.

Unlike those who had bonded with Lazy Flame Dragon, they were different.

It was said that even among righteous sects, there was no uniform temperament. The disciples of the Nine Great Sects worshipped the Buddha or the Primordial Celestial Lord.

As reclusive monks, most transcended fame and wealth.

The noble families were different. The term referred to clans that maintained power for generations.

They pursued profit while claiming righteousness. Their ways of upholding chivalry differed completely.

Some martial artists, possessing immense skill, spoke bluntly.

They claimed it was rare to find chivalrous people outside monastic sects.

'I heard some noble families enjoy acts of chivalry.'

But not these particular descendants. They stood right there, a coalition of influential figures.

Hwangbo Myeong-rin led the group. The formation made that clear. Zhili was located in the southern part of Shandong.

The Hwangbo clan was said to act like royalty in Jinan, Shandong Province. It was only natural for local martial families to treat them differently.

'Hwangbo Myeong-rin held more value.'

He deliberately didn't kill her. It was a calculated decision by Lightning Genius. Lazy Flame Dragon was a young master destined to die.

He seemed merely a tool to boost the clan's reputation. It was the siblings who were truly the future of the Hwangbo clan.

"I heard there's something called a spiritual beast."

Jung Yeonshin spoke. A young man rushed to support his younger sister.

He had caused trouble in Huizhou Province and was struck down by Jung Yeonshin in a single blow. He was said to be the second son of the Hwangbo clan.

"And you think you can get away with this…?"

"I'm talking here."

Jung Yeonshin's calm gaze made the young man flinch. He couldn't even meet his eyes and turned away.

"They say noble clans raise beasts with mysterious abilities, called spiritual beasts."

"..."

"Beasts that understand human speech and possess supernatural powers. Summon your clan's warriors. As many as possible. You never know if the Blood Flame Cult might send reinforcements."

The Eight Great Clans were noble in name only. They had firm local roots and unmatched martial prowess, like royal houses.

It was a world where spiritual beasts could be bought with gold.

Direct heirs of the Hwangbo Clan surely carried communication birds.

It didn't matter whether it was a pigeon or any other bird. Shandong wasn't far. Messages needed to be sent continuously.

And it turned out to be true.

As soon as Jung Yeonshin finished speaking, wings stirred from the young man's robe. A small bird, resembling a swallow, emerged.

The young man prepared a small letter with a brush and ink set carried for travel and tied it to the bird's leg. But he didn't release it.

"If I send it now, our value disappears. You could decide to kill us. We'll decide when to release it."

"Think carefully. It's not just one message. Considering the size of Zhili and Shandong, the bird must travel back and forth continuously."

"...You're right."

He quietly acknowledged his mistake, wary of Jung Yeonshin's strength.

Even if injured, he believed he could force mutual destruction—a tactic called dying together in the martial world.

'This guy has grown cautious.'

Jung Yeonshin lowered his gaze from the bird flying away.

Hwangbo Myeong-rin glared as if ready to kill, while the younger brother couldn't even raise his head.

There was no chance of harmony. Yet, they had to remain together.

"Whoever brought the blood fiends, we have to join forces. They're after the younger generation of Dragon-Phoenix Gathering too."

It was Lazy Flame Dragon.

He glanced at both sides and casually popped a poppy flower into his mouth.

Chewing the petals, his eyes soon fixed on Jung Yeonshin.

* * *

Twenty days passed. They shook off the Blood Flame Cult's pursuit several times.

A net spread from the south. Returning to Huizhou Province was impossible.

Receiving the Hwangbo Clan's protection from Jinan was faster.

Everyone looked ragged. They had stuck to mountain paths, avoiding main roads.

The plain stretched at the edge of a long mountain range. They were now near Shandong.

'It's a race against time now.'

Jung Yeonshin thought, already accustomed to hunting birds for food.

Even when resting, one of the Radiant Demon Squad's three warriors always stood guard.

They couldn't fully trust the Hwangbo siblings or the other younger warriors.

Enough time had passed. The mission succeeded. Forces from both the Hwangbo Clan and Desolate Fortress would be closing in.

Shandong was Hwangbo's domain, but Desolate Fortress governed the entire central plains.

A sudden mission required simultaneous arrival.

'They'll arrive together.'

The Blood Flame Cult's sorcery made planting spies difficult. The Hwangbo Clan was different. The ones sent were likely clueless.

If they crossed north of South Zhili, they wouldn't escape Desolate Fortress's notice.

Desolate Fortress had long monitored them. This was an old operation.

With Radiant Demon Squad's forces likely trailing, Jung Yeonshin was ready.

"The escort unit of the clan is coming. It's over now."

During this time, Hwangbo Myeong-rin had completely regained her confidence. She spoke openly, with conviction.

She declared that once the escort unit of the Hwangbo clan arrived, the pursuit squad of the Blood Flame Cult would no longer matter. She led the group herself, leaving Lazy Flame Dragon to the side.

"There they are."

Heon Wonchang muttered as he descended the mountain, catching sight of warriors rushing toward them.

A group of over thirty men dressed in crimson martial uniforms approached, exuding a powerful aura that carried a sense of military discipline.

"Rina!"

A towering middle-aged man at the forefront of the group called out. His lightness in movement was astonishing.

The restrained vigor of his run closed the distance in an instant.

Jung Yeonshin instinctively compared himself to the man in his prime. The years of training were on another level. He couldn't be sure of winning easily.

"Uncle Paegeom!"

The free-spirited nature of the martial world seemed no different for the great clans.

Hwangbo Myeong-rin threw herself into the arms of the middle-aged man. With a hearty laugh, his thick hands ruffled her hair.

"Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness. You've worked hard. Truly, you have."

From the side, Heon Wonchang sent a voice transmission to Jung Yeonsin. The man was Paegeom Hwangbo Jun, the younger brother of the current patriarch of the Hwangbo clan. He was also said to be one of the finest swordsmen in Jinan, Shandong Province.

"But where is the young master?"

Paegeom turned his gaze, his eyes landing on Lazy Flame Dragon, who sat idly on a rock nearby.

"They've adorned an illegitimate child with the regalia of an heir. He ought to feel humbled. How dare he make the direct descendants suffer so?"

"Well, the heirship only lasts about five more years. What does it matter how I live?"

"This insolent boy!"

"Talking about me as an heir without even observing proper decorum. Bold of you."

Lazy Flame Dragon chuckled faintly. Paegeom glared at him in silence for a while before turning away.

'That family is no less dysfunctional.' 

Jung Yeonsin thought as he locked eyes with Paegeom's sharp, hawkish gaze.

Lazy Flame Dragon had admitted to being an illegitimate child. If the family truly valued the life of their short-lived bloodline, they would have severed ties and sent him to pledge allegiance to the Desolate Fortress.

It was obvious. He had been used as fodder to elevate the clan's prestige and craft a story of heroism.

"A plain blue robe with no crest, martial attire, and a young face. It must be you. The narrow space of my correspondence mentioned your story."

Paegeom smiled at Jung Yeonshin, his grin carrying an overbearing aura of menace.

"An outcast of Chushi Sect. Cut off one of your arms yourself and offer it as tribute. I will forgive your insolence."

"His head should roll. The disgrace was far too great." 

Hwangbo Myeong-rin interjected. Paegeom's smile softened warmly, and he even nodded.

"Have it your way."

It became clear. Were all martial clans like this? They seemed less righteous martial families and more like local aristocrats.

"Let's grant you the glory of Shaolin's Huike. We'll keep you alive until you confess your identity after stopping the bleeding. Or should we begin the fight now?"

Hwangbo Myeong-rin spoke with a smooth smile, her lips moving lightly as she referenced the revered Master Huike of Shaolin, who had cut off one arm before the Great Bodhidharma as a gesture of devotion. It was blatant mockery.

Lazy Flame Dragon, about to intervene, was blocked by other warriors. Hwangbo Myeong-rin urged further.

"Should we start? Is your courage only this much?"

Jung Yeonsin silently caressed the Beiming Sword. Its touch still felt a little unfamiliar.

A sword art, a martial technique, and the Formidable Wall—these thoughts had circled Jung Yeonsin's mind for the past twenty days.

If projectiles were truly unstoppable weapons, no sects would have ever thrived in the martial world.

He couldn't imagine figures like the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, Ma Jin, or even Chung Myung falling victim to the Formidable Wall.

'It should be deflectable with a soft sword technique. At least now.'

The opponent was clearly a practitioner of strong swordsmanship. He could sense it as soon as he felt their energy.

Behind Paegeom, Hwangbo Myeong-rin sneered.

"For all your glib tongue, you're silent now. The Hwangbo Clan, the most prestigious in Shandong, personally asks if they may discipline you, yet you have no answer."

"Enough. He's just a worm from an unknown sect. Don't waste your strength on someone so unworthy."

Paegeom strode forward, disregarding any sense of distance. It was a blatant show of disdain.

Second son of the Hwangbo Clan appeared thoroughly entertained, a bright smile plastered across his face.

The young warriors of the Hwangbo clan and the onlookers wore stoic expressions.

"Outcast of Chushil Sect. Now it begins. Are you ready to face the interrogation of the great clans?"

Hwangbo Myeong-rin's tone was almost gleeful, her mischievous smile adding to the mockery.

Jung Yeonsin didn't reply. Just as he was about to draw upon the newly refined sword technique he had trained, Paegeom's steps came to an abrupt halt.

Boom!

A massive impact resounded as someone landed behind Jung Yeonsin, sending shockwaves through the ground.

Without turning, he knew. The overwhelming energy was too familiar.

"Captain!"

It was Shin So-bin's cry. Jung Yeonsin's maternal uncle, Ma Jin of Radiant Demon Squad, had arrived.

Boom! Boom!

Two equally imposing presences landed on either side of Ma Jin. The tremors from their landing rippled outward.

The energy was unmistakable. The aura of the Heavenly Squad and the Annihilation Squad filled the air. The leaders of both squads had arrived.

The field was soon flooded with even more warriors. Around twenty figures, their presences disciplined and cold, gathered behind the leaders.

They weren't alone. Another group of comparable size descended and fanned out on either side, radiating energy that matched Radiant Demon Squad's warriors.

It was the Desolate Fortress's Heavenly Squad and Annihilation Squad.

This was the Seventeen Blades of the Desolate Fortress, revered as invincible whenever two or more gathered.

"Supply!"

With a whistle, a long object flew toward Jung Yeonsin's back.

He twisted slightly and caught it effortlessly. Its cool, smooth feel marked it unmistakably as the Desolate Sword, which he immediately sheathed beside the Beiming Sword.

Another object followed. A small white pill, its fragrance rich, fell into his hand. It was the Bright Pure Pill, renowned for treating internal injuries. Clearly, Chung Myung had seen through his condition.

It was done. The supply chain was complete.

Thud!

The Desolate Fortress's Seventeen Blades.

Jung Yeonsin trembled at the overwhelming display of energy.

Was there any force stronger than this under heaven?

At this moment, as his right hand gripped his sword, he felt an invisible, formidable presence supporting him.

Simultaneously, Heon Wonchang approached with light, buoyant steps. Grasping the edge of the cloth draped over Jung Yeonsin's shoulder, he tore it away.

Rip!

The character for 'Desolate' was revealed, its golden hue signifying Jung Yeonsin as the personal disciple of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.

Someone audibly gasped.

"Paegeom Hwangbo Jun."

Jung Yeonsin spoke calmly, rolling the Bright Pure Pill between his fingers as a frozen silence blanketed the plain.

"You may begin."

With his sword drawn, he gave the signal.