CHAPTER 84

Boom!

The recoil from the palm technique's wave was tremendous. Jung Yeonshin immediately channeled his inner power into the meridians of his right arm.

The long meridian pathway, running from the shoulder to the index finger, known as the Hand Yangming Large Intestine Meridian, radiated the steadfastness of Jung's advanced internal energy technique.

It was a method to prevent dislocation from the intense aftershock.

Crash!

Even so, he was pushed back. The rough sensation under his feet carved grooves into the dirt ground.

The shockwave scattered in all directions, kicking up yellow dust and obscuring his vision.

'As expected.'

The impact felt shallow. In a split second, the rapidly surging energy waves of the Seventh Apostle had already retreated with swift footwork.

She had dodged Jung Yeonshin's strike at close range.

Her reaction seemed almost anticipated, truly befitting a cunning witch.

The Seventh Apostle was clearly in a weakened state compared to her prime. Her evasion was slower by about an inch.

Yet, it was far from what it seemed. Her visibly frail state was an exaggerated facade.

She was still powerful—perhaps attempting to evoke pity.

"What's your plan?"

Jung Yeonshin asked, peering through the dust. The silhouette of the Seventh Apostle stood five steps away.

With a single wave of her hand, a warm summer breeze swept through, clearing the view.

Her long, flowing black hair, crimson eye, and lips curved in a faint smile came into view.

"You, you created another technique, didn't you?"

The Seventh Apostle lightly brushed her abdomen. Her red silk robe clung to her body as if soaked.

It meant she hadn't fully absorbed the impact of Jung's force.

Her supposedly impenetrable protective aura had been breached, even if only for a moment.

This implied much.

Jung Yeonshin now possessed a strike potent enough to penetrate even an Apostle's black aura.

It would one day serve as his life-saving trump card.

'Landing a hit is another matter. Accuracy is the issue.'

It was difficult to deliver the technique with both speed and precision. Its setup was noisy, and the flow of energy was too conspicuous.

Suppressing his sense of achievement, Jung Yeonshin fixed his eyes on the Seventh Apostle. The madwoman spoke up.

"It wasn't even a direct hit, yet…"

Her lips formed an innocent smile.

"If it had hit properly, I wouldn't have come out unscathed. Amazing!"

Her face, flushed with excitement, looked at him intently. Even the eye hidden behind her black eyepatch seemed to glimmer red.

"I asked, what's your intent?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to take the Grand Master…"

She trailed off, lowering her lone eye slightly.

Her demeanor shifted.

At that moment, Jung Yeonshin grasped the harsh truth of the martial world.

There was no other reason—he had grown stronger.

It was because Namgoong Hwashin was with him.

Freedom and recklessness were luxuries reserved for the powerful. The stronger one became, the more dignified they appeared. The martial world's principle was clear.

Refined skills, immense energy, and a White Qilin's presence.

Even with internal injuries, the Seventh Apostle was not someone easily subdued without injury.

No longer could she attempt an abduction so carelessly.

Jung Yeonshin made his decision.

'I'll end this during this journey.'

He knew it would be difficult to see the Seventh Apostle in such a weakened state again. He had to finish her now, while he could.

"My Grand Master, come with me, won't you?"

The Seventh Apostle pleaded, her expression desperate.

It was absurd to see someone who fed on human essence begging like that.

Where had the demoness gone—the high-ranking cultist who had captured him in a single move back at South Zhili's Clear Night Valley?

Jung Yeonshin studied her expression. The corners of her bright red lips curved slightly upward.

She likely saw this as a dilemma.

She couldn't easily overpower Jung, yet she had no intention of leaving. Was she planning to cling to him as she had back at her cult's headquarters?

"Your Blood Technique."

His words caused the Seventh Apostle's face to brighten.

"Yes?"

"I've perfected the formulas. They're now within me."

Whoosh!

With the flow of formulas, a sinister aura began to rise.

The moment the Demon Roaring Blood Art was invoked.

Invisible waves of energy burst forth intermittently from Jung's entire body.

The calm atmosphere he exuded transformed into a storm of malicious energy that enveloped him completely.

A serpentine hiss heightened the ominousness.

Sssss—

Jung's expression remained composed. There wasn't a trace of madness typical of blood techniques.

The aura surrounding his body was what the Blood Flame Cult called 'Pureblood Energy'.

Even his blue martial robe momentarily seemed dyed in blood-red silk.

He had fully integrated the fourth form of his technique, modifying the formulas to harness only the lethal force and explosive power of blood techniques.

Any master familiar with the Demon Roaring Blood Art would have noticed the change.

"Ah…"

The Seventh Apostle gasped in something akin to ecstasy.

Just as she opened her mouth, her face flushed with heat.

"The formula contains a hundred characters. I'll give you four for every one of my ambushes you block."

Jung Yeonshin spoke calmly, wagering martial formulas in a gamble.

"And Namgoong and I will keep moving. You are to stay at least three hundred zhang away. Only I may approach you. Violate this, and I'll take one of your arms. Even if I die, I'll rip off one of your limbs."

Jung Yeonshin's voice, roughened by the Blood Technique, echoed.

Namgoong Hwashin thought to herself.

'Such deep strategy. Not a single rash move.'

He marveled at Jung Yeonshin's capability as a White Qilin.

Even faced with no alternatives, he endured the madness of a blood technique.

"What did you say?"

The Seventh Apostle laughed, finding the proposal amusing.

It meant he intended to ambush her repeatedly, extracting formulas bit by bit.

Even if ambushed, she wouldn't kill him. Her obsession and actions until now proved it.

Yet capturing him would expose her to his and Namgoong's combined assault—something she now dreaded.

Injured, she might even lose a limb.

It was the dilemma of a snake approaching a curled-up hedgehog. The balance of power had shifted.

"Agree, and move away now."

Jung Yeonshin said.

The Seventh Apostle's lips curled faintly.

"You might give me fake formulas."

"I wouldn't dare. Would someone of your caliber fail to detect a fake?"

"And if you don't ambush me?"

"Such disregard for debts is typical of sects like yours. You created this grudge—you will die by my hand."

His tone was steady.

Life in the martial world was a blade's edge.

He had lived under constant threat, bound by duties he hadn't sought.

For weeks, he endured such tension. He wouldn't forgive her.

She didn't answer immediately. Staring at Jung, she slowly opened her lips.

"Four characters are too few. Six."

She proposed a deal, her tone lighthearted.

The atmosphere shifted. Namgoong Hwashin's expression darkened faintly.

His grip on the sword tightened.

"You truly are a madwoman of the cult."

While Hwashin muttered, Jung Yeonshin replied.

"I'm no merchant."

"Six characters."

"Five."

"Fine. I'll get to savor my Grand Master's blade to the fullest."

The Seventh Apostle smiled.

A sudden gust swept through them.

The blazing sun seemed to lose its intensity, sapped by the lingering aftereffects of Jung's Blood Technique.

Leaves from nearby trees scattered in the dry wind.

Jung Yeonshin gradually withdrew his aura.

Trading formulas and life-threatening risks—such was the martial world.

"Go."

"See you later."

Her eerie farewell sent shivers down their spines.

Three hundred jang (about 909 meters) was an ambiguous distance.

It was far enough to respond to an approach yet close enough for her to observe their every move.

Sending messengers or carrier pigeons wouldn't be tolerated.

Rustle.

Her crimson silk robe fluttered as she moved, vanishing in an instant with an ethereal elegance.

Namgoong Hwashin, who had been silently observing the Seventh Apostle's retreating figure, finally spoke.

"...A storm blew right from the start. If she tries to return, she'll cover three hundred jang in no time."

"She will. She only accepted the distance because it was reasonable."

"Your composure is remarkable. I thought we'd have to settle this here and now."

"The heretics are selfish. They avoid fights that aren't overwhelmingly in their favor. Even if we die, we can at least take one of that lunatic's limbs, which is why she complied."

Jung Yeonshin, who had already faced countless trials in a short span, spoke. Namgoong Hwashin nodded in agreement.

"But are you really planning to ambush her twenty times?"

"We can't let her recover. If we don't take her down now, she'll become even stronger. We need to overwhelm her before she can utilize her regenerative abilities. Of course, when I make my move…"

"Obviously, I'll accompany you. Don't worry. I'll gain valuable experience dealing with the Blood Flame Cult's Apostle."

Namgoong Hwashin smiled reassuringly. The clarity in his eyes, as he faced Jung Yeonshin, who had now become his comrade in life-or-death battles, was unmistakable.

Jung Yeonshin slowly parted his lips.

"We'll make it back alive this time too. And we'll complete our mission."

"...Naturally."

An unexpected variable had emerged on the first day of their journey. Thus began their strange expedition into the martial world.

* * *

Namgoong Mi, the Flourishing Spirit Flower Master, had been away from her household for seven days.

She gave the warriors of Flourishing Spirit Flower, a branch martial force, the chance to escort her.

A slight gesture and a single smile had been enough. Six followed her.

She did not bring servants, anticipating a rugged journey through the martial world.

'They'd only be a burden.'

It hardly mattered. She naturally turned the warriors of Flourishing Spirit Flower into her attendants.

The beauty and elegance of the direct-line lady carried a charm that was impossible to resist.

The six elite warriors divided the menial tasks of the journey among themselves.

They treated this expedition as a mission of faith—to punish the unruly forces of Desolate Fortress.

"A life-and-death duel, just because of a martial competition? Outrageous."

"Who even is this brat? How can we rush to aid him without assessing the situation first?"

"Hah! There's no law requiring us to welcome warriors of Desolate Fortress under the imperial code!"

Traveling on their family's prized horses, they arrived at Wuchang in Huguang Province—a city with a relay station.

Two more provinces, and they would reach Yangyang, where Desolate Fortress was located.

The Great Faction, known for its unparalleled intelligence network, already knew the general movements of Desolate Fortress warriors.

They frequently used relay routes.

Upon entering the city, the group moved according to plan.

Crash!

A wooden signboard, engraved with the name 'Virtuous Teacher Sect', shattered.

Despite its noble name, the sect was a front for banditry and exploitation.

"Who dares challenge us?!"

The sect leader's shout ended with his head flying off in one stroke.

Namgoong Mi's sword strike froze even the ridge tiles of the roof.

Under the scorching sun, the chilling aura surrounding her transformed into pale mist.

"Wh-what…"

The enemies faltered.

Clad in frosty energy, the celestial-like figure seemed otherworldly. None dared to oppose her.

The warriors of Flourishing Spirit Flower were no different. They far outclassed the local sect.

Blinding sword light swept through the Virtuous Teacher Sect, and the sect members collapsed.

In less than half an hour, the sect was annihilated.

The group immediately returned to Wuchang's marketplace.

"Look here!"

Blood-soaked warriors, clad in quality uniforms, emerged.

The commotion of martial artists always spread quickly.

People's eyes widened in fear and confusion.

One of the warriors held up the severed head of the sect leader.

"Behold, the Flower Mistress of Namgoong Clan has slain the bandit leader! A branch of Namgoong House will be established here in place of the Virtuous Teacher Sect! You may resume your livelihoods without fear!"

"Namgoong House… The Namgoong clan?"

"The Flower Mistress? One of the Nine Phoenixes?"

"With such beauty and presence, it's no wonder…"

Martial artists observing the scene whispered among themselves. Even the common folk, initially nervous about being caught up in martial conflicts, began to relax.

People gathered, and the commotion didn't last long.

Expressions of confusion quickly turned to cheers.

The Namgoong Clan, renowned as the strongest orthodox sect, had come to protect them.

With famines leaving stomachs empty, some martial artists had turned to raiding villages.

Safety was now the top priority.

"What's happening?"

"Namgoong Clan! Thank you, truly!"

"She's beautiful! Like a fairy descended from heaven…"

Men and women alike praised Namgoong House.

Namgoong Mi responded with a graceful smile under the bright sunlight.

The cheers grew louder.

"My brother should have been here too."

She murmured with a smile. Namgoong Se-jin, the Azure Qilin, had not come.

His role as heir bound him, forcing him to await the official duel schedule with Desolate Fortress.

'This is easy.'

Namgoong Mi smirked inwardly.

While waiting for the imperial watchdogs, she had effortlessly won the people's hearts in Wuchang.

It barely required exerting the family's power.

She simply couldn't stand Desolate Fortress, parading around as lone heroes of justice.

Everyone would cheer for her—naturally, they should.

That was when it happened.

"You vile murderers! How could you kill innocent servants?!"

A boy shouted and then ran off, disappearing quickly.

He moved swiftly, and his bearing suggested a certain refinement.

Servants killed?

The crowd murmured. Public opinion shifted rapidly, especially when tied to the influence of a powerful family.

Unlike orthodox sects meditating in the mountains or Desolate Fortress, preaching justice, the Namgoong Clan faced scrutiny.

'Insignificant worms.'

Namgoong Mi's smile deepened, revealing pristine teeth.

Some of the third-rate warriors who fled earlier were likely cut down.

Perhaps some were untrained in martial arts.

Her warriors from Flourishing Spirit Flower may have been responsible.

—Silence them.

She sent a short sound transmission.

One of the warriors nodded slightly before stepping forward.

Meanwhile, far beyond earshot, two figures whispered in the corner of an inn.

"Young Hero Namgoong."

"Well done. My sister wouldn't stay idle at the main house. I expected this and waited a day at the relay station. Good thing we brought extra clothes. Being chased by the Seventh Apostle helped too."

"I think we should delay the duel."

"Her temperament seems more volatile…"

"She emanated lingering Yin energy."

"Exactly. Her inner energy wouldn't change so drastically without a potent Snow Ginseng. Approaching her head-on will be difficult… Wait, what is it?"

"Ten seconds."

"Hm?"

"Maybe ten seconds will be enough."

The boy spoke.