CHAPTER 61

A crowd had gathered amidst the commotion. Those who followed Jung Yeonshin and Wei-Ji Myohwa were all trained in lightness techniques.

They belatedly observed the movements of the two masters.

Jung Yeonshin paid no attention. He focused all his energy on rescuing Heon Wonchang. He was completely immersed.

For the first time, the burning energy surging with light within his upper dantain felt exhilarating.

Only upon reaching the pavilion did he finally have a moment to catch his breath.

"I heard it was blue, but…"

Wei-Ji Myohwa spoke, showing surprise at the change in the martial energy radiating from Jung Yeonshin, which differed from his Demon-Slaying Azure Steel Palm.

He continued to display martial skill and precision that had been absent when he faced the Tyrant Sword Tribe in Zhongnan Mountain.

It had not even been half a year. In her eyes, even the phrase "worthy of a second look" felt inadequate.

There was a limit to how much one's skill could improve in such a short time.

"So, you are no longer the white-robed warrior in a blue cloak. Now, you've become a fully-fledged blue-rank warrior, haven't you?"

"Yes."

Jung Yeonshin replied, stepping firmly forward.

Wei-Ji Myohwa inwardly sighed. She knew of Jung Yeonshin's shortened lifespan thanks to the Zhongnan Sword Immortal.

'He's like a flame.'

The speed of his achievements was unheard of. Even knowing his life would be brief, he walked a different timeline alone.

She had heard stories of a prodigy in the distant Xinjiang, who had brought demonic masters to their knees.

Yet unlike the rumors about him, Jung Yeonshin did not employ dark arts.

Wei-Ji Myohwa decided not to be surprised any longer. She had long grasped the vastness of the world and earned the title of Sword Dragon.

She even overcame inner demons through Jung Yeonshin's teachings. Jealousy and distrust found no place within her.

Wei-Ji Myohwa looked at Jung Yeonshin, who stood beside her, with clear eyes.

"I only now hear this joyous news."

A small, beautiful smile graced her lips. She stepped forward with him and added,

"It's a pity that the timing and circumstances aren't favorable for celebrations. Let's have a drink with Heon Wonchang when this is over."

"…Thank you."

Jung Yeonshin calmly expressed his gratitude. It was reassuring to hear. Heon Wonchang would be alive.

They soon stood before the pavilion.

Jung Yeonshin clenched his fist and activated the formulas of the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. He sensed numerous presences inside.

There could still be innocent survivors. As overwhelming as it felt, he needed to limit the damage to just the main gate.

'No.'

He furrowed his brow. The waves of energy brushing against his skin felt strange.

A chilling tension seemed to linger, holding his breath. It even smelled faintly of blood.

This was different from before. Wei-Ji Myohwa, standing beside him, seemed to sense the unease too.

Her lips tightened slightly as Jung Yeonshin felt his heightened senses in the upper dantian scatter.

Boom!

There was no time to hesitate. He lunged forward.

The explosive force of the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike surged from his feet.

As the accumulated energy gathered in his fist, he thrust his arm forward.

Crash!

A gust erupted, swept away by the energy waves. The fleeting sensation of wood splintering against his fist vanished instantly.

Jung Yeonshin and Wei-Ji Myohwa charged through the shattered fragments, their eyes widening.

"What the—!"

"What's going on now?!"

The room was divided into two factions, each seemingly wary of the other.

Closer to Jung Yeonshin stood a group of blood-haired fiends.

Opposite them, those who appeared to be captives sat silently, though they had somehow been freed and now stood against the Blood Flame Cult.

At the front was Heon Wonchang.

His pale skin and unfamiliar expression gave him a ghostly appearance. His once-handsome face was now twisted like a demon's.

Beneath his feet lay a corpse with crimson hair streaked with black strands.

It was the Blood Master Swordsman. Likely the head of this Blood Flame Cult branch.

Heon Wonchang held a dagger that appeared to have been snatched from his enemies.

The reversed grip and precise positioning of his hand looked remarkably practiced. The blade was stained with blood.

The corpse beneath him had been brutally slashed.

'He pushed himself too far.'

Jung Yeonshin immediately understood.

The Blood Flame Cult practiced techniques that drained others' internal energy. They would not have shattered his core energy.

This likely allowed Heon Wonchang to forcibly break free and counterattack.

But it would not have been easy.

To rip apart the energy channels sealed by others in an instant? Anyone familiar with internal arts would call it madness.

He must have suffered severe internal injuries—possibly beyond recovery.

Even after killing the Blood Master Swordsman, he had failed to subdue the remaining cultists.

'They must have been equally dangerous to each other.'

The long standoff became apparent. The civilians huddled behind Heon Wonchang alternated between stretching and folding their legs nervously.

"There's another great hero over there."

Someone spoke. Martial artists who followed Jung Yeonshin and Wei-Ji Myohwa were peeking inside.

They numbered in the dozens. The Blood Flame Cultists stood frozen, unable to speak.

"Hm?"

How deeply had they been absorbed in their standoff?

Only now did Heon Wonchang seem to realize Jung Yeonshin had broken through the door.

Their eyes met.

"Uh…?"

The vicious glare he had directed at the Blood Flame Cultists melted away into a dazed expression.

"W-why are you here so quickly?"

Those were Heon Wonchang's first words.

The Blood Flame Cult branches in Xuzhou were utterly annihilated.

As dawn broke, the title "Hero of Ruined Lands" began to spread.

It was a moniker bestowed upon Heon Wonchang.

Dozens of martial artists in Xuzhou witnessed his battered body guarding civilians.

Unlike Jung Yeonshin's overwhelming martial strength, Heon Wonchang was respected purely for his righteousness.

"There was talk that destroying the Blood Flame Cult would be a great merit in Xuzhou, wasn't there? The Imperial family has declared them heretics."

Wei-Ji Myohwa spoke, sitting across from Jung Yeonshin in a guesthouse.

She smiled faintly.

"With so many witnesses to your accomplishments, this incident will surely be recorded in full. I can also testify."

"Thank you."

Jung Yeonshin replied briefly. His mood was heavy.

Heon Wonchang's injuries were severe. He fainted the moment he saw Jung Yeonshin and smiled weakly.

Jung Yeonshin could not suppress a groan when he checked his pulse.

His entire network of meridians had suffered immense damage.

'He may never be able to practice martial arts again.'

Wei-Ji Myohwa, who had been quietly observing Jung Yeonshin's expression, carefully spoke.

"It seems you have reasons to be deeply concerned with your sect's achievements, don't you?"

"…Yes."

Jung Yeonshin slowly admitted. He could share this much.

Though they hadn't been friends for long, he sensed the depth of Sword Dragon's character.

Many in his hometown, including Radiant Demon Squad, were already aware.

Even if he hid his condition, his obsession with merits could not be completely concealed.

Earning merit in Desolate Fortress

"You might be able to restore Heon Wonchang's body while earning merit in Desolate Fortress." 

Wei-Ji Myohwa said.

At the same time, Jung Yeonshin leaned slightly toward her.

Wei-Ji Myohwa did not flinch and continued speaking.

"Our sect has fought countless battles against the Tyrant Sword Tribe for a long time. Many disciples suffered injuries like Heon Wonchang's. In about a month, he might lose the ability to use martial arts, but if we can get even a mid-grade elixir, it will change the situation."

"An elixir…"

"The Namgoong Clan and the Blood Flame Cult are engaged in a large-scale battle following the collapse of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. It's practically a war. The Namgoong Clan is the largest sect near Xuzhou, located in Southern Zhili, just like us."

Wei-Ji Myohwa's eyes gleamed with wisdom as her experience in Jianghu unfolded.

Her breath, brushing near Jung Yeonshin's nose, carried a sense of hope.

"Show them kindness. Among the Eight Great Clans, the Namgoong Clan is uniquely renowned for its integrity. They will undoubtedly repay any favor. There's only one problem." 

She said.

"Do you have the martial strength to make it happen?"

"…"

In Jianghu, showing chivalry through martial power was often repaid with chivalry in return. Wei-Ji Myohwa had pinpointed the essence of the martial world.

'Fighting the Blood Flame Cult? They must be pouring in enormous forces.'

Destroying them was already Jung Yeonshin's personal goal. Now, another task had been added.

Accumulating enough merit to be acknowledged by the Namgoong Clan and obtaining an elixir in return? It was a daunting task, but there was no other way.

Radiant Demon Squad's Lightning Genius' next destination was set—Huizhou, following Xuzhou.

"Getting an elixir from another sect… It can't be done with ordinary achievements." 

Jung Yeonshin said quietly.

One martial art came to mind immediately—Sword Song.

He had lost three days of lifespan when using it at the Hwangbo branch family.

He had sworn to seal it until he reached mastery capable of rivaling high-level martial artists in internal energy manipulation.

Breaking that vow repeatedly might lead to losing control. He had firmly decided to reserve it for emergencies.

'This will be the last time.'

Jung Yeonshin resolved himself.

He was determined, as this was a chance to both restore Heon Wonchang's martial abilities and destroy the Blood Flame Cult.

It would be his final performance of Sword Song before reaching the realm of the Grandmaster.

The Hwangbo Clan's main branch was likely still in Shandong.

The Eight Great Clans spanned vast territories. Eradicating just one main branch and a few subsidiaries could not bring them to ruin.

'I'll only inform the blue-robed seniors stationed in Southern Zhili. Leaving a message at the authorities should suffice.'

Considering Heon Wonchang's condition, waiting to regroup was a luxury.

Jung Yeonshin decided to focus on refining his martial art right away. Sitting down, he quickly entered meditation.

'The killing range of Sword Song isn't tied to the sound of the sword alone.'

Activating the energy of his upper dantian, he began dismantling the martial formulas piece by piece.

'If I limit the dispersal of energy waves, keeping them from spreading as far as the sword's resonance, I can narrow the range even without pinpointing targets precisely.'

He immersed his mind into the endless flashes of thought, focusing deeply.

It was a world no one else could fathom.

"Sir?"

Wei-Ji Myohwa's curious voice faded into the background.

* * *

A long gorge stretched across the border between Huizhou and Chizhou. It was called Clear Night Valley.

Legend said that during the founding of the kingdom, a peerless swordsman from a noble family had fought a demon there, illuminating the night with sword light.

Now, it was broad daylight. Sunlight fell indifferently on pools of scattered blood.

Clang! Boom!

Tremendous sword energies clashed, and the ground trembled under the explosive force of footwork techniques.

Hundreds of crimson-haired warriors battled martial artists in blue robes.

The battle line stretched too long to resemble a typical skirmish between sects in Jianghu.

"That heretic won't make a move."

Amidst the chaos, the upper ranks of the Namgoong Clan maintained an air of nobility.

Despite the battlefield's urgency, their atmosphere carried the refined dignity characteristic of a prestigious family.

"How much longer must we wait?"

A young man asked, standing alongside the clan elders. His gentle, downward-sloping eyes gave him a kind appearance. He was the heir of the Namgoong Clan.

He had already drawn his sword, and the luxurious blue silk of his martial robe suited him perfectly.

Known as Azure Qilin in Jianghu, he was admired for both his outstanding looks and exceptional martial prowess.

"The Blood Master Swordsmen and two Apostles are waiting for an opening. Do not act rashly." 

The clan leader said, clad in pristine white robes, his back turned to them.

"The foot soldiers can be handled even without us. As the clan's young master, you must remember, victory isn't the only goal of a battle. Protecting the lives of our family comes first."

"He's right. We must respond the moment their true elites step in to minimize casualties." 

His younger sister added smugly.

Her tanned face peeked out annoyingly. Namgoong Se-jin, the Azure Qilin, gritted his teeth.

"The warriors dying out there are our family too."

His voice escaped through clenched teeth. For once, his sister remained silent.

"Recall the decision you made when exiling Hwashin. As the head of the family, you cannot concern yourself with individuals."

The clan leader's tone remained firm.

The battle grew more intense, yet the enemy leaders refused to engage directly.

The Apostles and thirty Blood Master Swordsmen watching arrogantly from a cliff were infuriating.

Though powerful, they retreated the moment Namgoong Clan's elites approached, maintaining their distance.

"How many days has it been? Are they trying to wear us down?"

Namgoong Se-jin bit his lip.

His father, the clan leader, must also be deeply troubled.

The Blood Flame Cult's forces were massive.

When one elder lost patience and advanced, fifteen Blood Master Swordsmen broke through the front line.

It was mockery, warning them not to act rashly.

Exploiting the weakness of a family composed entirely of blood relatives, they seemed intent on exhausting their opponents before sending in elites.

The fighting had lasted over fifteen days. Morale among the frontline warriors was deteriorating.

Even with their top fighters intact, spirits were low.

It was then.

Suddenly, the clan leader and elders turned their heads. Namgoong Se-jin, whose senses were unusually sharp, followed suit.

Something was approaching rapidly.

From behind the Blood Flame Cult's formation.

Far, far away.

Hwooong!

A low, resonant sound slowly spread toward the gorge.

Was it the cry of a giant bird that once soared the skies?

The sound swelled gradually, spreading faster and faster.

A noise unlike anything anyone had ever heard before, arrived at the battlefield.