CHAPTER 118

The massive stone gate was splitting open. Tang Yun-hwang approached abruptly and spoke.

"You there, surnamed Jung, was your courtesy name Lightning Genius?"

"Yes, sir."

Jung Yeonshin replied, staring straight ahead. His tone was calm.

Even with the head of the Tang Clan beside him, he dared not turn his gaze. Now, his life was at stake.

He hoped the Radiant Demon Squad would survive.

Tang Yun-hwang seemed indifferent. After gazing at Jung Yeonshin for a moment, he continued speaking.

"You carry yourself with dignity, not like some ordinary wanderer. Do you know of Hwancho Taoist?"

"He's the one who authored Discourse of Root Cultivation."

The boy answered quietly.

The Jung family manor in Henan was the most prominent in Xinye County. They worried about appearing like nouveau riche flaunting their power.

Thus, any family member had to display refinement. Even an estranged son couldn't be allowed to abandon scholarly pursuits.

From the Canonical Outline of Great Ming to the Four Books and Three Classics, they had at least skimmed through such texts, including Discourse of Root Cultivation.

The bushy beard of Tang Yun-hwang lifted slightly at the corners of his lips.

"You're well-read. It skillfully blends Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism. It teaches the art of living—many of its words are worth pondering."

"..."

"Even if day and night noisily switch places, their light remains unchanged, like the immutable cosmos. That's a saying about the virtues of a gentleman."

The boy recognized the verse. He had memorized it all.

And yet, it struck him differently this time. Was it the difference in their years of experience?

Rumble—!

The eastern stone gate of City of Master Craftsmen was unlike the ones they had passed before. It was exceptionally massive.

As the mechanical gears turned slowly and the door began to open, Tang Yun-hwang spoke again.

"Rushed techniques leave no room for retreat. In idle times, maintain readiness within stillness. In urgent moments, carry calmness within motion. That applies to both swords and hidden weapons."

It was advice from a grandmaster. Wisdom resonated in his voice. Jung Yeonshin instinctively realized—this too was a fortuitous encounter.

Flame Dragon abruptly interrupted.

"You seem to have a knack for speaking in riddles. Isn't it just a fancy way of saying, 'Act rashly, and you'll end up dead'? That's basic stuff."

"I heard the young master of the Hwangbo clan has a bold tongue. It seems the rumors were true. You're right. Lightning Genius, this friend seems to need a calmer heart."

"Our acting leader may be young, but he's an old soul. He'll handle himself just fine."

It was flattery meant to secure favor.

Yet even such blatant flattery felt oddly different when spoken by Flame Dragon. Tang Yun-hwang let out a hearty laugh.

"I'm saying this to myself, too. I've repeated it countless times. If I'm to avenge my wife, I must first survive. Carrying out revenge while preserving my life—it's no easy task."

His voice was like wind sweeping over dry leaves—barren and forlorn.

A once-peerless master now wandered the martial world, carrying internal injuries.

He had lost his lifelong companion. How deep must that grief run? Jung Yeonshin couldn't fathom it.

Discourse of Root Cultivation. Even if day and night switch, light remains unchanged.

Jung Yeonshin took the head's words to heart, reflecting on them just once.

Maintain calm in energy flow. In swordplay, preserve stillness within motion.

And then—

Jung Yeonshin stepped toward the light of the City of Master Craftsmen's Winter village. His pace quickened.

Passing through the open gate without hesitation, his steps transformed into light-footed movement.

Wind currents from the bloodline technique wrapped around his legs. It was a secret movement technique taught by Chung Myung.

Swish!

The vast cavern floor propelled him firmly forward. Jung Yeonshin sped ahead.

The dim lights of the City of Master Craftsmen grew brighter.

The Winter village was different. It resembled the lair of a serpent awaiting ascension—sprawling and vast from the entrance alone.

Its ceiling was out of sight. How deep underground had they descended?

Behind him, the presence of the Returning Wings Squad following silently brought slight comfort.

There it is…!

His field of vision expanded. He hadn't exhaled even five breaths.

A desolate village appeared.

A few more steps revealed the scene. It resembled a giant clearing. As if a storm had swept through, no house remained intact.

Amidst the ruins—

Masters were exchanging sword strikes. At least fifty of them. All were formidable warriors.

Their rapid movements stirred whirlwinds throughout the space.

Every corner within sight had become a battlefield. Fierce clashes erupted from all directions.

Boom! Bang!

The air trembled. It was the collision of explosive energies.

Tales of martial masters dueling for seven days and nights weren't uncommon, yet this unfolded immediately upon their arrival.

How long had they been fighting? It seemed they had moved past pursuit and entered a full-scale battle.

'Radiant Demon Squad. Where is the Radiant Demon Squad?'

He scanned the battlefield while running.

There were many corpses.

It was said that Heaven is indifferent and without mercy. It was inevitable that some of his seniors had fallen.

Jung Yeonshin was no longer inexperienced in the martial world. He didn't expect all to survive.

He had already heard at Desolate Fortress that two white robes had died. He only prayed that further casualties were minimal.

Wu Yu-xiang, Du Myeong…

A fleeting hope. His rapidly expanding vision caught sight of the white robes' corpses.

None of the moving figures wore the white robes of Desolate Fortress. Presumably, the Whites were annihilated.

Roughly a dozen members of the Radiant Demon Squad remained. Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo, wearing blood stained blue robes, fought desperately.

Clang!

Jung Yeonshin recalled Jonmyung's earlier words. He had asked him to draw the Desolate Sword at the forefront.

There was no time to give commands. Before he knew it, his sword was already drawn.

"Who's there?!"

"Desolate…! It's Desolate Fortress!"

The eerie voices of enemies nearby reached his ears. Just as Jung Yeonshin gripped the sword tightly and charged into battle—

At the center of the fierce fight—

Clang—!

The left sleeve of a black robe was severed. A powerful arm soared into the air.

Radiant Demon Squad leader's left arm had been severed, unleashing an unspent storm of energy as it flew.

He had been fending off two top-tier enemies alone.

"Radiant Demon Squad leader! They said you were the strongest of the Black Robes—truly, your reputation was well-earned!"

A golden-haired, blue-eyed Westerner shouted as he severed Ma Jin's arm with a knife hand strike.

The middle-aged foreigner's voice carried powerful ripples of energy. The intent was clear.

He sought to boost his allies' morale.

Pure Demon Alliance, Ha Yul-geuk.

A renowned master. His towering frame stood out.

He was over six feet tall, and his piercing blue eyes exuded authority.

His jet-black cloak, sleeveless and flowing behind him, marked him as a Pure Demon Alliance warrior.

Sichuan's Pure Demon Alliance.

One of the Thirteen Heavens' major sects. A revived remnant of the Demonic Sect, destroyed during the Ming dynasty's founding.

Among them, Pure Demon Alliance was a leader of the Thirteen Heavens' elite.

The one who severed Ma Jin's arm, radiating intense energy waves—this was the Black Robes' dominion.

It didn't matter. Jung Yeonshin's mind emptied of all thoughts.

Boom!

Energy exploded from the bubbling acupoint of his soles. The ground beneath him shattered.

Whoosh!

Accelerating sharply, he shot forward like an arrow. Jung Yeonshin broke away from the group.

Yet, the enemy responded quickly. The six warriors who had cornered the Radiant Demon Squad turned toward the boy.

Ten Perfection Sect and Pure Demon Alliance—secret martial arts techniques filled the space ahead.

Fists, spears, and sword strikes shot toward him—all deadly.

A faint light rippled along Jung Yeonshin's sword. The Desolate Sword lashed out like a club.

Crack! Boom!

Everything shattered. Enemies groaned in pain.

Broken weapons, severed limbs—all fell behind him.

He couldn't slow down.

Fortunately, they were small fry. The enemy's elite fighters seemed focused on annihilating the Radiant Demon Squad.

Swish!

He reached the center in an instant. His ambush had worked.

"Yeonshin!"

Ma Jin, now one-armed, shouted in alarm. He was being overwhelmed by Pure Demon Alliance and Ten Perfection Sect' top elites.

"A reinforcement?"

An elderly man muttered. He stood beside the Pure Demon Alliance with an air of leisure, unaffected by the chaos.

A martial artist from Ten Perfection Sect. Dressed like a general with a dark blue robe and a massive sword, he stood out.

His appearance and aura were too distinctive to go unnoticed in the martial world.

Sword-Thirst Demon, Dokgo Gwang.

A master of eighteen weapon techniques.

He led Ten Perfection Sect' primary strike force and was known as one of their most exceptional warriors.

"Impressive, the flow of energy from one so young. Your refined internal energy is truly remarkable. What is your name?"

Sword-Thirst Demon asked, sounding genuine. His gaze swept over Jung Yeonshin's entire body, reflecting admiration—and near disbelief.

"Your body is well-trained. No, this is a vessel I've never seen before. How did you come to be here? Had you lived longer, you might have become a supreme master worthy of ruling the world."

"...."

Jung Yeonshin did not answer.

Though he wanted to check on his uncle's condition across the battlefield, the overwhelming presence of these elite warriors made it impossible.

Composure belonged to the weak. At this moment, the dominant forces were Ten Perfection Sect and Pure Demon Alliance.

Even if they lamented Jung Yeonshin's fate while appraising him, no one would object.

Ma Jin, having lost an arm, faced off against the Pure Demon Alliance.

The senior members of Radiant Demon Squad were barely holding back the masters of the two enemy sects. It was clear they were overwhelmed by inferior numbers.

Behind him, Jung Yeonshin sensed the reinforcements from the Returning Wings Squad gradually joining the battle.

Yet the feeling of being outmatched remained.

It was only a slight shift from total defense to a feeble offense.

There weren't enough high-level warriors to turn the tide of battle.

Even if Tang Yun-hwang, who was slaughtering the Thirteen Heavens' warriors, joined them, he could only face one of the elites—either Ten Perfection Sect or Pure Demon Alliance.

The internal injuries caused by the schemes of the Sichuan Tang Clan's grand elder still lingered.

'I have to do it.'

Jung Yeonshin resolved.

This battlefield held the main forces of Desolate Fortress, Pure Demon Alliance, and Ten Perfection Sect.

Three grandmasters, famed throughout the martial world, had converged here. Unintentionally, Jung Yeonshin had stepped onto the proving grounds. He had to win.

"Come."

Sword-Thirst Demon called out with a grin.

Jung Yeonshin focused his family's techniques to their peak. He began to regulate every muscle in his body.

* * *

Far off, atop a rocky cliff—

Beggar Sect masters lounged casually.

Each of them bore several knots tied to their belts, denoting their ranks. They observed the battlefield with relaxed composure.

"This is tricky. Radiant Demon Squad is struggling more than expected. Even if their opponents' numbers are double, they should've been able to hold on defensively."

Hu-gae remarked, addressing the Beggar Sect masters who had accompanied him.

"The residents of the City of Master Craftsmen seem to be the issue. It looks like the Radiant Demon Squad prioritized their evacuation, creating a gap in their defense."

"Well, that's understandable. They tried to rescue hostages with insufficient manpower. Still, Radiant Demon Squad's chivalry is something we beggars should learn from."

The others replied, sprawled in positions befitting their casual demeanor.

"But no openings, huh? The relic of Bodhidharma seems to have already fallen into the Pure Demon Alliance's hands… Oh, wait—looks like it's with the Triple-Kill Swordmaster. Even Radiant Demon Squad's blue-robed elites won't be able to easily overpower him. Is there no way for us to retrieve it?"

Hu-gae stroked his chin, muttering to himself.

Just then—

"I have a question."

A woman's voice rang out. Along with it, a crimson light swept over the beggars.

Her eyes gleamed with an eerie brilliance. The energy she radiated was both subtle and terrifying.

"What…?"

Hu-gae and the others raised their heads, their movements stiff. Instinct told them they were facing a master beyond their ability to resist.

A gasp broke out.

A woman stood vertically against the rock wall, gazing down at them. Her body control was astonishing.

Her hair flowed like ebony, and her crimson eyes were striking.

More than her gaze, the vivid red silk robe draping her figure exuded both elegance and menace.

Her ruby-like eyes leisurely examined the Beggar Sect masters, making them swallow nervously.

"You mentioned the fragment of spiritual energy contained in that relic."

She spoke slowly, her lips barely parting.

"...."

"Is it good for the body? Would it be suitable for a boy like this to consume?"

She raised her pale hand slightly as she asked, her gesture deceptively innocent.

"Of course, of course! Such a sacred relic of Bodhidharma must contain immense spiritual benefits. Surely, it would nourish the body with energy. At the very least, it won't cause harm!"

Hu-gae blurted out, his voice flustered.

"I see. That's good to know."

The woman's lips curved faintly into a smile.