CHAPTER 126

Hearing the harsh words, Sword Fist Demon and many martial artists of the Thirteen Heavens either let out hollow laughs or maintained indifferent expressions.

Jung Yeonshin's words were shocking.

No one in the vast land of Sichuan dared to speak to the Sword Fist Demon like that.

Even among countless martial artists across the regions, such a figure would be rare.

Provocations involving corpses were remarks typically exchanged only among brutish warriors.

This atmosphere rippled outward, evidenced by the murmurs spreading like clouds.

Most of the murmuring came from merchants and regional martial artists well-versed in Jianghu affairs.

"He does look rather extraordinary, but his words go too far."

"Must be from Desolate Fortress. No wonder the sky of Sichuan seems so low to him."

Many sarcastic remarks followed. This was characteristic of isolated regional Jianghu like Sichuan.

It was often said that leaving the Orthodox Factions made them more exclusive. Many held aspirations toward the Central Plains martial world beyond Shu Road.

The boy thought to himself—so what?

Then it happened.

"Too far? Do you even know the atrocities committed by those Thirteen Heaven scum?"

"Did you lose your parents to the Energy Absorbing Demon Art? No, if that were the case, you wouldn't even be spouting such absurdities, unable to tell heaven from earth."

A boy and girl spoke. It was the Tang siblings, clinging to the walls of Desolate Fortress' branch.

They seemed to have come to watch Jung Yeonshin's fight, unable to tolerate seeing Sichuan's commoners defending the Thirteen Heavens.

The siblings had recently gained fame as extraordinary talents.

Those living closely tied to Sichuan always kept detailed profiles of the Tang clan's direct descendants—just as one studies earthquake-prone areas in advance.

Naturally, some recognized them.

"The Twin Venoms, Dragon and Phoenix...?"

"Yes, I've seen them before."

"How did such noble heirs come to Desolate Fortress' branch?"

Whispers arose. Though feared, the Tang clan was one of the Eight Great Clans, renowned for their orthodoxy.

Their mere presence forced people to reassess the situation.

The atmosphere shifted noticeably after the Tang siblings' outcry.

Many in the crowd changed from hostility to mere observation.

Instead of disdain, curiosity began to fill the surroundings. Their thoughts were obvious.

What could that boy accomplish? How far would the audacity of a young swordsman reach?

Jung Yeonshin didn't bother to turn around.

He faintly felt the siblings' small sigh brushing the back of his head, but the boy had been calculating distances with the elites before him long before mentioning corpses.

'Two leaders.'

He counted those he had to kill—Thirteen Heavens' Malevolent Sword and the Demon-Fist of Pure Demon Alliance.

Both stood at the peaks of martial mastery.

People of such stature wouldn't recklessly initiate a joint attack in front of so many witnesses.

For elites, a martial artist's honor sometimes outweighed practical gains.

In a world where nicknames equaled reputation, a single boy stepping forward had now drawn all eyes to himself.

They couldn't advance without going through him first.

It was a golden opportunity.

'Martial Alliance, Eight Clans, Scarcity, Thirteen Heavens…'

Jung Yeonshin recalled the forces eyeing Desolate Fortress.

Killing the vanguard of the Ten Perfection Sect and Pure Demon Alliance here would deliver a near-fatal blow.

The boy's martial prowess was now capable of calculating such stakes. He had risen to that level.

"A young swordsman making his own Changban Bridge. He's like Zhang Fei Yi De."

A mocking voice.

To the left, the Crescent Moon Sword smiled as if entertained. He was a young warrior serving the Malevolent Sword of the Thirteen Heavens.

His crescent-shaped blade and shining sword sheath caught the eye, and his aura was as calm as his master's.

Such men were said to be the most dangerous.

Jung Yeonshin glanced at him briefly before turning away, treating him as if he were insignificant.

His full focus turned to Sword Fist Demon, who stood with arms lowered.

The boy stared at him silently.

'Sword Fist Demon. Within Desolate Fortress, he'd surely rank as black. I've heard he's one of the top warriors of the Pure Demon Alliance.'

An odd expression. Did he sense the aura of Radiant Wheel?

Jung Yeonshin paid no heed and took a step forward. Even without the spiritual enlightenment of Bodhidharma, the aura was already radiating around him.

The light emanating from his heart was warm.

Step.

His foot pressed firmly onto the ground, making a small sound. Sand particles scattered beneath his feet.

He had stirred his energy.

Vital energy began to ripple outward from the life gate pressure point.

It was the aura wave of the Radiant Wheel.

He had already observed everything—Sword Fist Demon and the Malevolent Sword's muscle structures, postures, and energy waves.

Their movements were imprinted in his mind.

His upper dantian, having neared death, combined with the aura of Radiant Wheel to manifest unparalleled power.

Pah!

"Step back."

In an instant, Sword Fist Demon ordered his subordinates.

Whirr!

The distance closed at an extreme speed.

Jung Yeonshin's body, driven by anger and martial energy, moved like a flashing blade.

The wind seemed visible in its turbulence.

"...!"

Whoom.

Amid the crowd's astonishment, the sword sang.

Jung Yeonshin's Desolate Sword left its sheath.

The blade, accompanied by light, flashed diagonally upward.

Clang!

Sword Fist Demon's elbow struck the blade. The tip of the sword grazed his abdomen, drawing blood.

Jung Yeonshin's eyes sharpened. His reaction was remarkable.

'He's strong.'

He had heard the rumors.

A devil wielding blades, thus called the Blade Demon. A fiend skilled with fists, thus the Fist Demon.

Sword Fist Demon's nickname was born from these titles.

A main force of Pure Demon Alliance, his fame stretched across the world.

Jung Yeonshin didn't care.

Dressed in black robes, he had stepped into Jianghu. Defeat was not an option.

Tap.

He stepped forward with his rear foot.

Wind still roared around him.

As he fearlessly closed the gap, his steps transformed into true strides.

He stomped firmly.

Feeling the earth's energy gripping his ankle, his right fist struck, followed by his left.

With the Radiant Wheel radiating light, he invoked the secret technique of Infinite Blossom Fist Strike.

'Formidable Wall.'

The strike extended from below. Its straight force shook even Jung Yeonshin's front.

Crunch!

His fist broke through Sword Fist Demon's internal armor and fractured his ribs.

A sharp sensation confirmed the impact.

Jung Yeonshin felt the breath of shock escaping his opponent.

Given his demonic art, even the Pure Demon Alliance's leader would find it hard to overpower him in close combat.

'I'll end it here.'

Perhaps due to his short life, Jung Yeonshin preferred quick battles.

Or perhaps it was his gift for analyzing and predicting techniques.

It was them—those led by the Pure Demon Alliance and the Sword Demon. The enemies present here were no more than replenishment forces.

If even these were to be wiped out, the Thirteen Heavens would no longer be thirteen.

'So this is what it meant.'

Jung Yeonshin suddenly grasped the symbolism and role of Desolate Fortress' black rank.

A master capable of confronting the leaders of the elite groups head-on, and, when fortune aligned, delivering a fatal strike.

It meant directly influencing the great factions acting as feudal lords across the world.

"What the...?"

"It's monstrous strength."

"Sword Fist Demon, taken down in a single exchange...!"

They said exchanges between supreme masters appeared as a single move to ordinary eyes.

In this crowded space, where one breath felt like hundreds of inhalations and exhalations, the way they looked at Jung Yeonshin completely changed—fear and awe intermingled. The temperature shifted.

Meanwhile, the masters of Pure Demon Alliance exuded a deep, abyssal aura.

Most of the laughter disappeared, yet none retreated.

Slowly.

They stepped toward Jung Yeonshin, one step at a time, their presence flowing as one, like a formation exuding oppressive pressure.

They were, quite literally, demons. The air itself felt like walls closing in.

"The one who will become Desolate Fortress' divine sword. You've seen it too—don't treat him as a boy. Someone was right. That's a monstrous force."

The Malevolent Sword of the Ten Perfection Sect muttered, while the Crescent Moon Sword remained silent.

Jung Yeonshin's eyes alternated between them and the Pure Demon Alliance.

He could handle one of these groups.

Even with the Malevolent Sword remaining, he might manage if he risked his life. After all, he was already clad in the robes of demons.

However, he couldn't take them both at once.

The boy was still in the stage of solidifying his black aura.

It was too soon to face a combined assault.

The Ten Perfection Sect.

Their side also began emanating sharp energy waves like drawn blades.

Following the Pure Demon Alliance, they seemed ready to charge straight in, treating Jung Yeonshin as a great enemy.

They must have deemed it unfit to save face.

Perhaps the bedridden seniors of the Radiant Demon Squad would push themselves into the fray.

'That cannot happen.'

The seniors, especially Radiant Demon Squad, were beyond recovery. Their forces had already been halved.

Now, the remaining seniors' meditation and recovery were all the more critical.

Therefore—

He had to find another way.

Boom! Voom!

Vibrations rang out from all directions. The tremors of strides and sword energy brushed against his robes.

Jung Yeonshin swiftly turned, scanning his surroundings.

As his head tilted in one quick motion, white light streaked through his eyes.

A line drawn by his mind engraved itself onto his vision—the path his sword must follow.

The charging demons, wielding all sorts of weapons, had lost their composure.

The Pure Demon Alliance's Sword Fist Demon—a master who might have been their teacher or elder—was slain before their eyes.

The remnants of the sect were now avengers.

'One strike.'

He gripped his sword tightly.

At this moment, he poured his consciousness into the blade.

His will rode along the sword's edge, accompanied by inner energy. The Desolate Sword resonated with him.

With the Aura of Radiant Wheel in full bloom, he firmly planted his feet, spun half a circle, and unleashed his blade.

A sweeping strike.

A white arc of light curved through the air.

Though he wielded it himself, it felt overwhelmingly solid.

Clang――!

The weapons in the demons' hands shattered into pieces.

The blades and spears thrust by Pure Demon Alliance's warriors crumbled.

The crescent-shaped sweep of his sword gleamed in white, and the gasps of the astonished enemies were palpable.

Turning his body with the Desolate Sword, Jung Yeonshin extended his other hand.

It wasn't over yet. The enemy was still numerous, but the boy had another means to break through.

Whoom!

A sound rumbled from within.

The Wheel of Light in his heart spun sharply.

Using different techniques at the Shaofu and Laogong pressure points in his left palm, he performed suction and release—absorbing and expelling energy, channeling the whirlpool of light through the pressure points.

[Note - Laogong acupoint, located in the center of the palm and associated with the Pericardium Meridian. It plays a significant role in energy flow and healing practices.Shaofu is also an acupuncture point of palms.]

His arm tingled briefly—a surge of immense energy waves.

'It's ready.'

Fragments of the shattered weapons, scattered by his sword, swirled at a small gesture.

Metal shards soared into the sky like a constellation stretching across the heavens.

Cold petals bloomed, tracing delicate lines against the blue sky.

Sunlight scattered through the gaps in the net of hidden weapons.

A rain of flowers filled the heavens.

Without secret manuals, he recreated a legendary technique heard only through oral traditions.

The pinnacle of intricate martial arts turned into artistry.

In this moment, the crowd sealed their lips instead of chattering.

The silence, filled with awe, enveloped everything.

The shards of steel rained down.

Moans echoed as enemies near Jung Yeonshin had their heads, shoulders, noses, and arms pierced or shattered.

Blood sprayed amid the storm of light.

At the center of it all, the boy thought.

'Tang Clan of Sichuan.'

A cunning group.

Even after arriving at the Fortress' branch, they had hidden themselves with stealth techniques, observing in secrecy.

Perhaps they only half-trusted the Tang siblings' letter.

If so, he would make them reveal themselves right here.

And he did.

The effect was immediate.

Strong energy waves began emanating from various halls across the northern, eastern, and western avenues.

They had been faintly concealed until now.

"The Tang Clan. I know you're here."

Jung Yeonshin quietly spoke.

He now understood the weight of Desolate Fortress' black rank—the authority in his words carried power.

"As representatives of the Orthodox Faction, it would be wise for you to keep the scum of the Thirteen Heavens in check."

Slowly, the boy continued speaking, standing amid the swirling rain of steel flowers.

The black robe draping his body fluttered, and Jung Yeonshin calmly delivered his final words.

"Let the Pure Demon Alliance come to me."

His serene voice rang clear in the stillness.