CHAPTER 89

The annihilation of the Virtuous Teacher Sect was a major incident. It had been the talk of Wuchang for days.

This was because the influence of martial clans, which held regional hegemony, extended even to the lives of commoners. It was especially true for the demonic sects.

The demonic sects, which had established themselves in the city, imposed tributes on the people, increasing the burden by three or four times.

They collected protection fees under the pretense of maintaining security. They took coins, silver, daily necessities, and even people without discrimination.

This happened because the prolonged famine caused the government's authority to plummet.

For the topic of conversation in Wuchang's streets to change, it had to be something extraordinary.

"A blood demon?"

"Lower your voice. They said it's not just any blood demon. That person wiped out the warriors of the Namgoong Clan in an instant..."

"That's right. There are rumors that they belong to a noble bloodline of an evil cult. With martial skills of that level, it's understandable. Watch your neck. You never know when you might become a sacrifice to the blood arts."

People huddled in groups of four or five in a corner of the marketplace, whispering quietly.

"Damn… the nights are going to be deserted. I'd better stay home once the sun sets."

"You'd better do that for a while."

"Quiet..."

A middle-aged man suddenly whispered in a startled voice. It was as if he exhaled his shock in a breath.

The surroundings had grown silent from a distance.

Three people were walking down the street.

The woman in the center stood out.

With snow-white skin like white jade and dressed in deep blue martial attire, she looked like a fairy who had descended to the mortal world.

She was a martial artist that everyone here would recognize.

She was Flourishing Spirit Flower Master of the Namgoong Clan, a beauty and a warrior whose skills and achievements had recently been praised.

"Then those people must be…"

Someone murmured.

The rumors had already spread widely.

A tale of Namgoong Mi, who had been reduced to solitude after losing her bodyguards at the hands of a noble of the Blood Flame Cult.

It was said that White Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin, and Lightning Genius, Jung Yeonshin, had joined her to protect her as sworn companions in life and death.

The martial artists of Wuchang who witnessed it had admired their courage.

They were outstanding talents of Desolate Fortress.

It was inevitable that they would attract attention. If they did not die tragically, they were destined to become top masters in the martial world.

Their strange companionship, prepared to risk their lives, was gradually becoming known.

"Your nickname was Lightning Genius, right?"

Namgoong Mi suddenly spoke, her tone calm as if looking down from above.

It seemed she no longer cared about the gazes of outsiders, perhaps because she knew there was no helping it.

It wasn't the tone she used in public.

Jung Yeonshin did not respond.

They had already exchanged harsh words. The boy couldn't pretend to be unaffected.

Even if the opponent didn't recognize his true face, it felt awkward to respond casually.

Moreover, the other person was someone destined to die soon. He didn't feel like engaging in unnecessary conversation.

"Now even nobodies are getting on my nerves?"

Namgoong Mi raised the corner of her lips in a sneer. Her leisurely steps exuded confidence.

Her deep-blue martial attire, which was designed for ease of movement, seemed more like a royal robe.

Although the term "protection" was the public pretext, she knew well that she was more like a prisoner of Desolate Fortress.

"..."

Jung Yeonshin glanced at her briefly.

She seemed to be born that way, like royalty raised in South Zhili.

She had built an impregnable world of her own due to her lineage as a direct descendant of the Namgoong family.

Even after experiencing a great calamity, her attitude toward the world remained unchanged.

She didn't know that Jung Yeonshin was the one behind the mask of the Blood Demon. It wasn't something even most martial artists of Desolate Fortress could imagine.

'Pathetic.'

The boy thought. How would she perceive him through her eyes, raised with innate arrogance?

Judging from her character, he assumed she saw him as no more than a nuisance who sparked a life-or-death duel between Desolate Fortress and the Namgoong Clan.

'There's no need to reveal myself. This identity could prove useful for other missions as well.'

Jung Yeonshin maintained a disinterested expression, refusing to acknowledge Namgoong Mi as a person.

The only visible reaction was Namgoong Hwashin's face, which noticeably stiffened at his half-sister's words.

"Namgoong Mi, mind your words. Young Hero Jung is the direct disciple of the Desolate Fortress' Lord. He's as noble as you."

"Our Hwashin has gotten better at jokes than martial arts."

Namgoong Mi's lips curled in mockery.

"You're calling the disciple of a ghost who refuses to die noble? Nobility must be a joke now."

"What did you say?"

"How long do you think the Desolate Fortress' Lord will stay above the clouds? The major sects in the martial world aren't fools. The Hwangbo Clan, the main hall of the Blood Flame Cult, and even our clan—who's next? With such arrogant and reckless actions, do you think the Eight Clans and the Thirteen Heavens will just sit and wait?"

"..."

Namgoong Hwashin shut his mouth with a heavy expression.

To Jung Yeonshin's eyes, he seemed overly soft.

Was it because of his upbringing as the leader of Night Sword, where he had been brainwashed with magical loyalty?

It was frustrating to see him backing down in a mere verbal argument despite having the enemy of his mother right before him.

Namgoong Mi turned her head slightly, smirking as she glanced at Jung Yeonshin.

"Kid, the same goes for you. I doubt you received all the true martial arts. Do you think royal families would give everything they have? You're no different from us Eight Clans, who only care about bloodlines. A pitiable half-breed."

"The term 'Eight Clans' is strange."

Jung Yeonshin spoke calmly.

"What?"

"It's now seven clans. Or perhaps 'six clans' has a better ring to it. What do you think? They're things that shrink easily anyway."

"You…!"

Namgoong Mi looked stunned, as if she hadn't expected such a retort. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jung Yeonshin quietly cut her off.

"Respect the meaning of formal duels. Even if your Namgoong family is vulgar, the reason we honor you is because our martial prowess reflects upon the opponent's caliber. Is it not utterly disappointing if one lacks such weight?"

"..."

"If you fail to understand, feel free to keep talking. It'll only show that your worth ends there."

Jung Yeonshin concluded his words and turned away again.

He briefly caught Namgoong Mi's distorted expression but only thought that the conversation had gone on too long.

She wasn't worth more than ten breaths of his time.

"A half-b*st*rd speaks of capacity?"

After one sneering retort, Namgung Mi's mouth fell quiet for a while.

Though she engaged in arrogant and unreasonable behavior, she was still a daughter of a renowned martial family. She seemed to have nothing else to say to one who spoke of level.

Afterwards.

Her expression subtly changed when looking at Jung Yeonshin.

Though her proud attitude of looking down on subordinates remained unchanged, Jung Yeonshin observed signs that seemed to examine his whole body occasionally.

Flourishing Spirit Flower Master Namgung Mi. What kind of feeling did she get?

He momentarily recalled the demon mask then dismissed the thought. The Blood Flame Cult noble and Radiant Demon Squad's Lightning Genius were different.

'Starting from the tone. It wasn't even words meant to provoke.'

He considered it nothing to worry about.

Meanwhile, the boy suddenly apologized to Namgoong Hwashin.

"The Namgoong I mentioned…"

"No, it's fine. It was rather satisfying in its own way."

Namgoong Hwashin waved his hand with a cheerful laugh. Both of them ignored Namgoong Mi's snort.

That's how this strange company formed.

Namgoong's half-siblings and Jung Yeonshin, and even the Seventh Apostle shining red eye light from afar.

It was a relationship that would only last until the life-and-death martial matches against the Namgoong family.

Namgoong Mi and the Seventh Apostle had to die. But they said the wind of the dusty murim is merciless. Perhaps not just two but all four might perish.

'Seventh Apostle, Azure Qilin.'

Jung Yeonshin recalled both targets. He hoped he and Namgoong Hwashin would complete the mission with bodies intact.

* * *

To reach Huizhou in South Zhili where the Namgoong family was located, they had to pass through Huangzhou.

The post station route was like that. It was the only road leading from Wuchang land to South Zhili.

The group entered a large inn.

"We'd better stay here once, then march straight through. Troublesome rumors seem to be spreading."

"If we just pass this road, we'll be in Huizhou Province. That sounds like a good idea."

Jung Yeonshin exchanged words with Namgoong Hwashin and walked toward an empty seat.

Namgoong Mi and Namgoong Hwashin followed immediately.

The four of them sat together at a table, with Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Mi side by side and Namgoong Hwashin sitting across from them.

It was an intentional arrangement. Jung Yeonshin trusted Namgoong Hwashin's sharp eyes, honed through years of training in the Namgoong Clan's internal arts and techniques.

Namgoong Hwashin's sharp gaze, fixated on his blood relative and enemy, his sister, suggested he was ready to strike at the slightest movement.

Namgoong Mi, however, seemed unconcerned. After ordering food from the server, she stared idly at the Diamond Sutra book Jung Yeonshin had taken out.

"A Buddhist scripture? Are you trying to act pious?"

As always, Jung Yeonshin didn't respond.

They were already close to Huizhou Province, which meant they were within the Namgoong Clan's sphere of influence.

News of the duel had likely spread farther here than anywhere else, requiring heightened vigilance against unexpected variables.

Even this inn was buzzing with noise.

"It's prosperity, pure prosperity. Martial artists are gathering here from all over the land."

"A duel between the Desolate Fortress and the Namgoong Clan. Where else could you see the martial skills of such lofty figures?"

"I still can't believe the Divine Sword Squad Leader and the Namgoong Family Head are truly going to test their strength. I probably won't believe it until I see it with my own eyes."

"Namgoong should better win. If the Desolate Fortress gains an upper hand…"

"The economy here in Huangzhou Province would be shaken too. For merchants like us, stability is best."

It seemed the topic was already a matter of everyday discussion.

There was no particular reason to speak loudly for the ears of Desolate Fortress martial artists.

They spoke freely because it was a daily subject, and thus, all sorts of conversations reached the ears of Jung Yeonshin's group.

Those who had already seen the martial robes of Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin fell silent.

But others who had yet to notice continued talking.

"The Namgoong Young Masrer hasn't shown his sword publicly for long, has he? They say his opponent is Lightning Genius, one of the rising stars who made great achievements during the Blood Flame Cult incident."

"It's a duel to determine the pinnacle of the martial world's new generation. I wonder which one will prove to be the true successor of this era."

"The Young Master is still the Young Master. How could he be judged as merely a rising talent?"

Hearing this, Namgoong Mi, seated beside Jung Yeonshin, curled her lips into a smooth smile.

Turning slightly, she looked at Jung Yeonshin and spoke, her voice carrying a faint laugh and a light smile.

"They're not entirely wrong. To your eyes, which only focus on immediate events, our Namgoong might not seem any different from the demonic sects. But at the very least, to the common people, we are an unparalleled righteous clan. When floods occur, we distribute food to provide relief, and when the demonic sects wreak havoc, the Namgoong warriors step in."

"..."

"With the skill level of a mere rising talent, there's no way you can withstand the King-Style Sword Arts of our direct bloodline. My brother, in particular, has polished his swordsmanship to a level that's hard to fathom. Isn't that reason enough for your inevitable defeat? Not to mention, our Namgoong has done nothing but serve the people, so…"

Namgoong Mi smiled faintly.

"You can rest easy under my brother's sword."

"Don't you find it tiring? All these pointless words."

Jung Yeonshin's indifferent reply only deepened her smile. The expression on her pale face was strange.

"Or."

"...?"

"Surrender now and devote yourself to our clan. I'll let you wash my feet. I mean it."

Washing feet.

It was something Jung Yeonshin had said while posing as a noble of the Blood Flame Cult.

'Is she testing me?'

Or was it just meaningless provocation?

Jung Yeonshin was still contemplating the intent behind her words when—

Whoosh!

Suddenly, dozens of sharp gusts of wind swept through the air.

It was a black wind that carried human figures.

Reacting instantly, Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin activated their internal energy instead of drawing their swords.

The fierce energy was so powerful it felt like it could tear them apart.

But the uninvited guests weren't targeting them.

Boom!

The jet-black hair shimmered with a glass-like sheen.

A hand shot out like a swift sword, slicing through the air, and grabbed both sides of Namgoong Mi's face.

The fingers, as pale as hers, lifted her into the air.

A sinister aura spread outward from the movement—an overwhelming force.

"You."

The red lips of the Seventh Apostle curved into a smile.

"What did you just say?"