CHAPTER 134

Tang Manor fell silent for a moment.

"...."

Jung Yeonshin's words were true. It was a sight devoid of meaning.

The last black-rank master that the Ten Perfection Sect had brought forth was dead.

She died without settling the grievances of her nephew, So Jin-rang, or her confidant, Dokgo Gwang.

Ssskk.

The boy slowly released his grip.

Leaving the Desolate Sword sprawled on the ground, he used both hands to gently lay Lu Zhuxia's body down.

To this woman, Jung Yeonshin was an enemy. But she had done him no personal harm.

As a martial artist, she had challenged him, and so he wished to honor her in kind.

He took her spear and laid it beside her. To Jung Yeonshin, she bore no personal grudge.

Lu Zhuxia's closed eyes seemed at peace.

Jung Yeonshin had eased the tension in her facial muscles with his inner energy, undoing the traces of shock.

Thud!

Someone from the Ten Perfection Sect rushed forward. A young man with a strong aura.

He seemed about ten years older than Jung Yeonshin and wore an outfit similar to Lu Zhuxia's, though his was blue.

"Senior Sister… Senior Sister…"

He muttered in a daze.

He appeared to be a disciple who had trained under the same master as Lu Zhuxia. His reverence toward her was profound.

Even in his grief, his sharp glare flickered toward Jung Yeonshin.

It looked as if he wanted to tear him apart on the spot. The boy silently endured the hostile gaze.

Such behavior seemed natural, even for a martial artist from an unorthodox sect.

'If I lost Senior Chung Myung or Senior Baek…'

Jung Yeonshin thought.

Had he been in the young man's place, he might have charged forward immediately.

With that thought, he calmly reached out his hand.

The Desolate Sword floated into his grasp as if drawn by invisible threads—an application of Full Sky Flower Rain, a technique that absorbed and controlled objects.

The warmth of the sword lingered in his palm, a remnant of the energy unleashed during the battle.

"Hup…!"

The young man, who had been cradling Lu Zhuxia's body, flinched.

Had he mistaken the act for a legendary technique of sword control through aura? His face flushed, and he turned away.

The boy wordlessly slid the Desolate Sword back into its scabbard.

"Benefactor!"

The Tang siblings approached simultaneously. Their movements were swift, showing refined body techniques.

They held pieces of blue silk, ready to wipe the blood splattered on Jung Yeonshin's clothes.

'What…'

Their servile gestures made him uncomfortable. Jung Yeonshin pressed his hands against their shoulders, pushing them away.

The Tang siblings, Tang Yeohwa and Tang Ryeo-ryeo, stepped back obediently, their eyes oddly reminiscent of kittens seeking affection.

He was reminded of the white cat that used to scrounge leftovers at the Jung household.

'No, that cat was a bit more arrogant.'

It was a meaningless thought. Jung Yeonshin dismissed the memory of that cat, which also happened to share a nickname with his junior, Shin So-bin.

Just as he sent the siblings away and looked up—

"Your techniques were impressive. A clear counter-study of the main martial art, albeit marred by malice."

A deep voice spoke as a figure approached slowly, directly in front of him.

A middle-aged man clad in pure white armor strode forward with weighty footsteps.

Jung Yeonshin instantly recognized it wasn't armor worn for protection.

It was ceremonial attire—a symbol of authority, marking the presence of the sect's leader himself.

"...."

Yet, there was no detectable aura from the man.

The middle-aged man, the Sect Leader of the Ten Perfection Sect, stopped ten paces away from Jung Yeonshin. His massive frame was imposing.

One of his ears appeared to have been sliced off, but rather than looking disfigured, he exuded the presence of an undefeated general.

Even without revealing his inner energy, he carved an overwhelming presence into the air.

His eyes, however, were gentle—like those of an ox, dark and calm.

But the contrast made him all the more chilling. Jung Yeonshin was reminded of the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader of the Jung household massacre.

The Sect Leader of the Ten Perfection Sect slowly opened his mouth.

"Your counter-techniques… If you devised them alone, you are truly a talent blessed by the heavens."

Though one of his warriors had died, his tone was tranquil. His expression, too, was unreadable.

What kind of martial artist pursued such a path? The aura of an unparalleled master stirred questions.

He was someone whose emotions did not seep into his words—utterly enigmatic.

'At least… he doesn't seem to know about my Celestial Body Constitution.'

There was no sign that he had seen through Jung Yeonshin's unique physique.

So far, only three people had pierced through him at first sight—The Lord of the Desolate Fortress, the Sword Immortal of Mount Zhongnan, and the current Leader of the Divine Sword Squad.

Perhaps it was a difference in martial levels, or the characteristics of their internal techniques.

'Regardless… he's a purple-rank master. The word 'carelessness' has no place here.'

Just as Jung Yeonshin gripped the Desolate Sword's energy, the Sect Leader of the Ten Perfection Sect suddenly smirked and shouted over Jung Yeonshin's shoulder.

"Tang Yun-hwang! How far you've fallen! Your hiding spot is behind a boy who barely looks to be of scholar age?"

"You call that provocation?"

The boy replied.

He stood surrounded by floating steel petals—an artful display of Tang Yun-hwang's Full Sky Flower Rain.

Several steps behind, Tang Yun-hwang extended his hand, activating his ultimate technique to protect his benefactor.

Whirr—

"...."

A heavy silence descended. Only the swirling energy from Tang Yun-hwang's technique rumbled in the air.

The Sect Leader's eyes slightly widened before his smile deepened, almost breaking into laughter.

"Full Sky Flower Rain!"

After a brief chuckle, the Sect Leader spoke again.

"So, I've heard the rumors. Incredible feats unfolded at the City of Master Craftsmen, so unbelievable they must be true. You've revived Tang Clan's secret arts. And the one responsible is a mere boy—nurtured by the imperial watchdogs."

"I thought you were the quiet type."

Jung Yeonshin remarked.

He was already assuming a preparatory stance, lowering his body and resting his hand over the sword's hilt.

The Sect Leader ignored him and continued.

"Enough of this. Something more pressing exists. That the mission at the City of Master Craftsmen failed so completely—I must know. Did you take Bodhidharma's treasure?"

"The Blood Flame Cult stole it."

The boy lied without hesitation, mentally picturing Heon Wonchang and Flame Dragon's smug faces. It wasn't too hard.

But the Sect Leader didn't seem convinced. Perhaps it was his vast experience in the martial world.

"No matter. I'll personally scour Tang Clan and the Desolate Fortress. Know this—anyone who blocks my path will be slaughtered."

"Let's run."

Flame Dragon whispered beside him.

Jung Yeonshin didn't even respond.

He simply drew the Desolate Sword into a high-guard stance.

The wind seemed to split around the blade.

Still in peak condition after swiftly dispatching Lu Zhuxia, Jung Yeonshin braced himself.

The Sect Leader advanced without even unsheathing his weapon. His serene eyes only made him more terrifying.

"I'll kill you whether you resist or not. My sect has crumbled because of you. It's time for retribution."

Whoosh!

The boy acted first. Against a purple-level master, conceding the initiative was not an option.

Tang Yun-hwang's Full Sky Flower Rain instantly responded.

As Jung Yeonshin's sword gleamed, the storm of hidden weapons surged alongside it.

"Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!"

The Sect Leader roared, his strides shaking the air like an earthquake.

His mere presence seemed to tear through the surroundings.

But then—

Snap!

A pale figure emerged behind him.

Like a declaration of finality, the fight was already over.

An eerily beautiful man with snow-white hair flashed a pair of crimson fangs.

The Blood Flame Cult's leader struck.

Before anyone could react, his teeth sank into the Sect Leader's neck.

"Haaah!"

A horrifying scream erupted.

The Blood Flame Cult's Leader's red eyes glowed as a menacing aura enveloped him.

The air thickened with bloodlust.

Life-drain. Blood-absorption.

Even against an unmatched master, he exploited the perfect opening.

The devouring speed was monstrous.

The Sect Leader's aura visibly withered.

Hehehe.

A sinister laugh leaked from between the Blood Flame Cult Leader's teeth, echoing as if from the depths of an abyss.

The surrounding air tensed.

It was a moment that would leave anyone frozen in shock.

The Blood Flame Cult's Leader did not let the opportunity slip by.

Sinking his fangs into the Ten Perfection Sect Leader's neck, he unleashed a tremendous surge of energy beneath his feet.

Boom!

The explosive power released from the Yongcheon Point at the soles of his feet was overwhelming.

Holding the Ten Perfection Sect Leader from behind, he shot upward like a flying arrow.

The steel petals of Full Sky Flower Rain scattered chaotically, swept away by the energy wave.

A sound of dismay came from Tang Yun-hwang in the background.

'The Blood Flame Cult's Leader… He's buying time to absorb energy.'

Jung Yeonshin quickly assessed the situation. Leaving things as they were would spell disaster.

His muscles coiled tightly, and the inner energy of the Radiant Wheel surged through his body.

Stimulating the Chengfu Point below his buttocks, the Yinmen Point on the back of his thighs, and finally the Yongcheon Point, the boy borrowed the movement technique of Chung Myung.

[Note - Chengfu Acupoint is on the back of the thigh, just below the buttock, at the midpoint of the transverse gluteal crease. The Yinmen point (BL37) is an Acupuncture point on the posterior aspect of the upper thigh (along with sciatic nerve), on the line joining Chengfu and Weizhong. This point is located on the meridian of the bladder.]

"Block him!"

"Stop him with your bodies!"

At that moment, red shadows descended upon Jung Yeonshin. More than just one or two.

Taking advantage of the chaos, they had crept in with utmost caution.

Ten Blood Master Swordsmen charged in unison, seemingly to buy time for their leader.

Jung Yeonshin's eyes gleamed white as he found himself unable to take flight.

'Radiance Sword Style…!'

The Desolate Sword flashed.

Unleashing his full strength, he gripped the sword's energy and carved a crescent arc with its gleaming blade.

His triceps and biceps contracted fiercely, erupting in an explosive burst of inner energy.

The sweeping strike cleaved through flesh and bone, crushing and mangling everything in its path.

Slash!

"Don't get any closer!"

"Treat him as equal to the Grand Master!"

Three bodies of the Blood Master Swordsmen collapsed from a single sword technique.

The aftermath was even more devastating.

Those caught in the residual energy clutched their abdomens, retreating with pained groans.

Blood spattered across the ground, accompanied by cries of agony.

Gripping his left chest, Jung Yeonshin prepared to leap again.

The fierce rotation of the Radiant Wheel had strained his heart. Pain shot through his chest as if it were being torn apart.

At the same time—

Hahaha!

A burst of frenzied laughter echoed.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader's voice overflowed with ecstasy, tainting the surroundings.

Even the energy emanating from his voice was immense.

Had he already absorbed the Ten Perfection Sect Leader's energy?

It was an unfathomable level of inner energy manipulation, even for the leader of an unorthodox sect.

Standing atop the roof of a hall, the Blood Flame Cult Leader flung the Ten Perfection Sect Leader's body aside.

He didn't even spare a glance at the lifeless form plummeting to the ground.

The Grandmaster of Blood Arts, the Leader of the Blood Flame Cult.

His slender face bore a smile brimming with devilish charm.

Despite his regal posture, an aura of nobility reminiscent of Beijing's aristocracy lingered about him.

'He used the gathering of the Desolate Fortress, Tang Clan, and Ten Perfection Sect as a sacrificial altar to strengthen his martial arts.'

Though Tang Taedok's actions had hinted at the Cult Leader's presence, no one expected such a dramatic entrance.

This was why unparalleled masters were likened to natural disasters.

In an instant, he stormed in and disposed of Jung Yeonshin's opponent.

It was a reminder of martial arts' boundless terror. Even the Ten Perfection Sect Leader, a ruler among the Thirteen Heavens, fell so easily.

'This is the realm of legends. The Five Greatest Masters.'

Jung Yeonshin realized it too late.

Then—

A breeze brushed against his cheek, as if waiting for this moment.

A fluttering purple robe filled his vision.

When did he arrive?

A warm voice called the boy's name.

"Yeonshin."

"Grandfather…?"

Jung Yeonshin's eyes widened slightly.

A dignified old man stood in front of him, his back turned toward the boy.

His white hair, unlike the Blood Flame Cult Leader's, was dull and rough, swaying gently in the wind.

"I only now understand that time flows differently for you and me."

His voice was heavy yet tinged with sorrow.

It was a statement that stunned Jung Yeonshin.

His grandfather had noticed his unique physique.

"I wished to speak with you at length, but fate has not aligned. While pursuing the Blood Flame Cult Leader and contemplating the Jung Clan's Dynamic Arts, this is where I've arrived."

"...!"

"Yeonshin, our first meeting will also be our last. I am ashamed."

Ma Yeonjeok's voice resonated softly.

"Engrave this lesson into your soul. You must consume the fruit of the World Tree. I will show you the realm you are destined to reach. I know you can attain it someday."

"Ma Yeonjeok, you foolish old man. Yet you're worthy of being called my rival. I already brushed you aside once, and still, you followed me here."

The Blood Flame Cult Leader smiled down at him.

The sudden appearance of two unparalleled masters seemed to be the culmination of a long pursuit.

What trials had unfolded between them?

For the first time, the boy faced a situation beyond his control.

He could only gaze at his grandfather's back.

Buzz.

Ma Yeonjeok lowered his hand at an angle.

A sword appeared in his grasp, as if conjured from thin air.

Unlike the mystical, dazzling sword of the current Leader of Divine Sword Squad, this blade was plain.

Yet the straight, white blade was unmistakably Moonlight Treasure Sword, Ma Yeonjeok's cherished sword.

Even so, it carried the same weight.

It felt capable of holding the entire martial world at bay—a weapon worthy of discussing supremacy.

"Yeonshin, from now on."

The purple-robed elder spoke.

For a moment, it was as if he had borrowed the vigor of his youth.

A fierce energy began to emanate from his voice, like a lion's roar.

"Observe the Leader of Divine Sword Squad."