CHAPTER 124

Jung Clan Dynamic Arts.

It was a book slightly larger than an adult's palm. Page by worn page, it turned.

Soon.

Ma Jin set the martial arts manual back down on the table. He hadn't even finished reading it.

The paper trembled slightly, but Ma Yeonjeok did not blame his son and remained silent.

At that moment, he couldn't tell if it was he or his son trembling. Nor did he care to know.

"...So this is the martial art that Sang-ah bore."

The short name felt rough on his tongue. It rolled out awkwardly—the childhood name of his daughter.

Ma Yeonsang.

It was his daughter's name. A face he had struggled to forget resurfaced.

She had large, striking eyes since childhood, a feature she passed on to his son, Jung Yeonshin.

Perhaps it was because he had been too preoccupied cutting down the heads of unruly martial artists.

As the leader of the Divine Sword Squad, galloping across the vast lands of central plains, Ma Yeonjeok had always thought of his daughter's disposition as gentle.

He only occasionally worried about her life as the future matron of the household.

It was a meaningless concern.

The daughter he hadn't seen grow up had become bold.

She fell for a flamboyant dandy who enjoyed worldly pleasures and flashy displays.

She was so smitten that she even refused the arranged marriage dictated by the family's tradition.

Ma Yeonjeok was horrified.

His precious daughter, the treasured jewel of the Ma clan, falling for such a wastrel?

—"I am Jung Ban-ak."

When they met face-to-face, his appearance was the only thing fitting.

He was extremely handsome, exuding the carefree air of an ignorant country bumpkin.

Even his self-proclaimed title, "Ban-ak", felt pompous. According to reports from the family's spies, including those from the Beggars' Sect and Hao Clan, he was skilled at seducing women.

As the heir of a wealthy landlord in Xinye County, he carried nicknames like "Gentleman of Elegance" and "Playboy Prince".

—A worthless scoundrel!

Even when cursed as a disrespectful brat, he quietly bowed his head.

Ma Yeonjeok nearly killed him with one strike. His palm had almost unleashed internal energy.

—Father...!

It was only upon noticing his daughter's tearful expression that he barely managed to suppress his energy.

That day.

He fell into a swamp of agony. As a family head. As a father.

Ma Yeonjeok remembered it vividly. With trembling lips, he muttered.

"The destiny bestowed upon the Ma clan is singular."

"To serve the sovereign and establish order across the world... I've heard it since childhood, more clearly than even the family martial art techniques."

Ma Jin acknowledged his father's regret.

Ma Yeonjeok nodded.

He had upheld that noble and honorable mission like a treasured sword his entire life.

Martial artists tend to wield swords wherever they please.

They accumulate power that commoners cannot resist and then swing their blades under the guise of righteousness and honor.

Uncontrolled martial might inevitably brings chaos to the nation.

It must be suppressed, but the vastness of the world meant there were too many and too strong. Strategic alliances among martial families like the Ma were a necessity.

He tried to persuade his daughter for a long time.

—"His physique is poor. He doesn't seem intelligent. He even shows the stubbornness of an ignorant fool. How can you bring him into this family? Sang-ah, does it really have to be him?"

Ma Yeonsang said yes.

It was a declaration of severance.

A prestigious martial family like the Ma cannot form ties with just anyone.

Marriages were meant to unite powerful martial bloodlines to control the martial world.

The food, clothing, halls, and beds enjoyed by the Ma clan were rewards for protecting the common people.

Ma Yeonjeok made his decision, swallowing sadness and disappointment.

—"Leave. Do not return. The family's traditions are sacred. One flawed stone can bring down an entire fortress. The only blessing I can offer you now is severance. The food and clothing you've enjoyed were earned through duty to protect the people. Since you've abandoned that duty, how can you still be considered family where our ancestors' tablets reside?"

—"Father...."

The prestige of noble families stems from upholding duty and reciprocity.

His daughter's affection was an intolerable transgression.

He couldn't bear to kill the man she loved, but neither could he forcefully tear them apart.

So, he let her go. Cut all ties.

If their connection remained, it would violate the laws and collapse the family's discipline built over 120 years.

—"Family head! Does this align with reason? Are you dismissing the matchmaker from the Shin family?"

An engagement had already been arranged. Ma Yeonjeok endured the elders' wrath to grant his daughter freedom.

It was fine. He convinced himself that he had given her one last gift as a father.

That was the end. He never looked for his daughter again.

To govern the world properly, one must first govern their own household.

For Ma Yeonjeok, severance was the means of governance.

The elderly man in purple robes slowly spoke.

"I have observed noble martial families all my life. Talent often stems from lineage. One cannot risk a clan's future on rare exceptions. Severance was necessary to set an example."

He hadn't sought out his grandson for that reason. A precedent could not be allowed.

Yet ironically, his decision now felt meaningless and hollow.

Anyone who saw Jung Yeonshin would think so.

"People judge by results. They will see our family as fools."

Ma Jin spoke, his voice tinged with self-deprecation.

He too had ultimately accepted his father's decision, believing it upheld the family's honor.

"Indeed. Sixteen years of karma have come back to haunt us."

Ma Yeonjeok's lips quivered. The trembling grew stronger as he flipped through the book.

The opening lines of the manual pierced the heart of the martial arts master.

In the end, the affairs of the martial world were as fleeting as the thin smoke curling above the tea cups.

The Ma father and son were masters who had merged their internal energy with their will.

Waves of energy spread from their minds, blurring the steam above the cups.

Rare martial masters scrutinized the script of Jung Clan Dynamic Arts. Their eyes gleamed heavily.

Rustle.

Ma Yeonjeok carefully turned the page.

His gaze remained fixed on the manual's techniques, tinged with deep regret.

At last.

They finished reading the manual. A silence unlike the one at the beginning filled the room.

The air was heavy. Complete astonishment.

"This is...."

The old man slowly spoke.

"Truly divine martial arts."

"...You can tell just from the principles."

"It's not a martial art we can freely share. Even if we owe Yeonshin a great debt, spreading this would be unthinkable. This art is too sacred."

Ma Yeonjeok rose slowly.

In the most luxurious chamber of the Ma clan's main hall, he walked unsteadily, paying no mind to the ornate decorations.

It was already night.

Moonlight streamed in softly, drawing a bitter curve across his wrinkled lips. A self-mocking smile.

"I never imagined I would gain insight from a martial arts manual at this age."

His voice was calm, almost transcendent, carrying faint traces of lingering shock and sorrow.

As if he had finally gained enlightenment, accompanied by a serene laugh.

* * *

Time passed. Fifteen days had gone by since they left the City of Master Craftsmen.

Ma Yeonjeok's aura continued to evolve. Day by day, he grew stronger.

Jung Yeonshin, honored to train under both the purple and black-rank masters, could feel it clearly.

Ma Yeonjeok's presence burned like summer heat, almost seeming to scorch the air.

It was said he now rivaled the heads of the Nine Great Sects.

The so-called supreme realm, could those who reach the so-called supreme realm rapidly master the profound secrets of unfamiliar martial arts? For the first time, the boy was astonished by another's achievements.

In contrast, Ma Yeonjeok simply admired it, calling it a more intuitive and faster technique than Shaolin's technique.

"Uncle, your progress is severely lacking."

Jung Yeonshin teased. Ma Jin smiled faintly and patted his nephew's shoulder.

His left sleeve was still empty.

Behind the massive gate of the Desolate Fortress Branch.

A chilly breeze brushed against Jung Yeonshin's blue robe, making its hem sway behind his knees.

It had once covered his ankles when he wore the blue disciple's uniform.

"I hope this ends quickly."

The boy muttered.

Perhaps because it was infused with the pure energy of Transcending Law Radiant Wheel, the long blue robe that draped from his shoulders seemed to signal his readiness.

Even with visible cuts and bloodstains on the fabric, it did.

At his waist, the Desolate Sword and Beiming Sword hung together. To anyone looking, he was clearly headed into battle.

"Are you certain you can handle this alone?"

"You've asked me that more than ten times."

It was a repeated exchange between uncle and nephew.

They had annihilated two elite groups of the Thirteen Heavens Great Sect.

It was an accomplishment impossible for the forces of Radiant Demon Squad and Returning Wings Squad to achieve without suffering massive casualties.

Even Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo had suffered sword wounds. Not a single senior remained unscathed.

Few were left standing, and even the relatively unharmed masters like Flame Dragon and White Qilin were better off guarding the fortress.

Their enemies were not the type to enter through the front gate like gentlemen.

Thud—! Thud—!

The faint sound of hammering echoed. It came from a small forge inside.

The blacksmiths of the City of Master Craftsmen had gathered there, striking anvils with hammers and stoking large fires.

They were crafting special weapons, including internal-energy prosthetic arms and legs—trademark tools of the Iron Tribe.

"Uncle cannot show himself so easily."

"…That's right. Why would the Leader of the Radiant Demon Squad reveal himself with a missing arm?"

"I should get going now."

Jung Yeonshin sensed powerful energy approaching from afar. It wasn't just one or two presences. The overwhelming pressure advancing from both sides of the city was immense.

'This was bound to happen.'

The boy thought.

Two elite groups sent by the Thirteen Heavens to the City of Master Craftsmen had vanished.

Meanwhile, the Radiant Demon Squad, whose status had been uncertain, returned to the fortress branch.

Fifteen days were enough for sects like Ten Perfection Sect and Pure Demon Alliance to grasp the situation.

The Blood Flame Cult could not be ignored either. Their Seventh Apostle had appeared in the City of Master Craftsmen.

That made three from the Thirteen Heavens.

The Tang Clan was another concern. They sent physicians without any definitive statements, but they couldn't maintain an ambiguous stance forever.

By now, this had become the focal point of the martial world.

Heon Wonchang had said this was the beginning—when all events would spread through the mouths of martial artists across the land.

'Like a thorn.'

Only Ma Jin had come to see him off, but the sharp sensations pricking at his skin told him otherwise.

Masters in Desolate Fortress had honed their senses outward. Flame Dragon, Namgoong Hwashin, Heon Wonchang, and Crimson Noon Sword—each one ready to spring into action.

And they would, if necessary. Jung Yeonshin was going alone for a reason.

Not just because his internal injuries were fully healed.

With Ma Yeonjeok away, investigating an ominous and massive energy, Jung Yeonshin needed to prove that Desolate Fortress remained strong.

Sichuan was that dangerous—a wounded tiger surrounded by wolves, its fur bristling.

This wasn't a fight for annihilation. It was a ploy to create room for negotiation.

To command respect among martial artists, boldness was required.

'A show of martial prowess will be enough.'

The boy closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.

—Show yourselves, hounds of the Imperial family!

A thunderous voice rang out, brimming with immense power.

They were already at the gate. The overwhelming presence outside felt like a tidal wave.

Was it the Ten Perfection Sect and Pure Demon Alliance? The forces pressing in from both sides merged into a single overpowering force.

But was it truly threatening?

Jung Yeonshin asked himself.

He wasn't sure.

After killing Dokgo Gwang and Ha Yul-geuk, he doubted the heads of the Thirteen Heavens themselves had come.

He couldn't predict how much he could handle alone.

Martial artists, bound by their pride, wouldn't resort to coordinated attacks right away, so he anticipated one-on-one duels first.

Meanwhile,

Outside the siege, layers of people gathered as they always did.

Jung Yeonshin clearly sensed their murmurs and faint movements.

—I thought it was a rumor, but the Great Sects are really going to fight!

—Will Desolate Fortress retreat from Sichuan?

—And would it end there? The martial forces in Yangyang would likely descend, and that's the real problem.

—In any case, the fortress branch seems doomed.

They were commoners, with some local martial artists mixed in.

All had come to witness a rare clash among the great sects. Spectacles were scarce in this world.

For a chance to witness martial arts techniques akin to divine skills, many were willing to risk their lives.

To them, martial arts were the artistry of immortals.

"You represent the Desolate Fortress now."

Ma Jin whispered from behind.

Jung Yeonshin suddenly felt a firm touch on his shoulder.

"I'll make sure the seniors don't rise from their sickbeds."

The boy replied calmly.

At that moment—

Whoosh!

A black robe billowed out, long and flowing.

Despite one torn sleeve hem, its elegance remained intact.

The black robe of Desolate Fortress wrapped around Jung Yeonshin's shoulders.

"I'll be back."

When both hands emerged from the black sleeves, the boy could no longer be dismissed as a mere rising star.