CHAPTER 160

'Is that the hand of a human? Radiant Demon Squad Leader?'

Great Lord Zhuge Cheon's eyebrows rose.

The sudden wrinkles etched into his forehead revealed his shock. He stared across the room with a stiff expression.

Ssshhh.

A hand pierced through the curtain. Five fingers, smooth yet firm, extended through.

It hadn't merely pierced a sheet of silk.

Wuuung.

The Go stones scattered around began to tremble slightly.

They were the black and white stones used to activate the formation. The formation laid out during the establishment of the Alliance began to subside.

The Heavy Wind Wall Formation, activated with just a few Go stones, was an elaborate masterpiece far surpassing its appearance.

Every material held imbued mystical energy. It had been set up with studies in geomancy in mind.

Ridge beams, pillars, eaves, foundation stones, rafters—every structural element was considered.

It wasn't meant to be breached so easily.

"What the…!"

Mystical arts were skills that defied simple definitions. Unlike martial arts, they lacked fixed formulas.

The branches of mystical arts were vast, yet they shared one commonality—they were studies that toyed with the principles of the universe.

Unless one had trained in the heretical arts of sorcery, it was nearly impossible for an ordinary martial artist to approach them.

For a proper martial artist with deeply cultivated internal energy, breaking through the formation with force would have required extraordinary skill.

The Heavy Wind Wall Formation set up in this office was sturdy enough to endure at least one strike from a sect leader.

'Impossible.'

To penetrate it with a single strike meant stepping into the realm of miracles.

It was inconceivable unless the intruder had mastered an incredibly rare and exceptional martial art.

Only two grandmasters who left immortal marks on the martial world had achieved such feats.

Zhang Sanfeng, who mastered the Eight Great Divine Incantations of Taoist mystical arts.

Bodhidharma, the Buddhist grandmaster who infused divine power into martial arts.

Wuuung!

A divine ripple emanated from the hand, spreading unseen energy throughout the office.

Zhuge Cheon, a Fengshui scholar who cultivated both martial arts and mystical studies, sensed it immediately.

The Heavy Wind Wall Formation was vanishing as if it had never existed. The wealth and effort poured into the office dissipated in an instant.

'This is not ordinary energy absorption! Taoist techniques? No, is it Buddhist power…?!'

It all happened in mere moments.

The energy wave was pure and refined—unparalleled in its clarity.

The elaborate setup that had taken years and enormous costs was rendered useless without warning.

Perhaps it would have been easier to defend if the attack had been purely martial in nature.

"Is this…?"

Zhuge Cheon muttered in disbelief, and a response came immediately.

"You invited me in, so I stepped forward."

The curtain sustaining the mystical boundary was swept aside with a single gesture.

A green silk drape fluttered down, revealing a boy clad in a pitch-black long robe.

He wore the black leather shoes glimpsed earlier beneath the curtain.

With a light flick of his hand, the green curtain fell, and he stepped inside, exuding an aura of enigmatic elegance.

"I trust this young leader has not been disrespectful, merely clearing an obstruction."

The boy's words carried an indifferent tone unfitting his age—or perhaps fitting, considering his status.

His martial arts and position were already significant enough to shape the world, making his every move weighty. His emotions were impossible to read.

'That's definitely the black uniform of Desolate Fortress.'

Zhuge Cheon thought, realizing that the boy's skills matched the dignity of his attire. A monster, in other words.

A boy in black who tore through the mystical formation in a single move. The pressure radiating from him was far beyond the realm of ordinary prodigies.

Even to most martial artists, he wouldn't appear human.

"...Welcome, Young Leader. I am Zhuge Cheon, acting as the Supreme Military Strategist of the Murim Alliance."

Zhuge Cheon barely managed to maintain a calm demeanor.

He sensed disaster looming if he didn't act as if nothing had happened. Regret set in.

It was necessary to assess the boy's character, but he hadn't expected him to possess techniques capable of breaking mystical formations.

Zhuge Cheon had planned to provoke the boy slightly before gracefully dispersing the formation, but the young leader wasn't letting it slide.

"Is this how your Alliance treats emissaries?"

"…I fear I do not follow your meaning. You must be weary from your journey. I suggest we schedule another meeting after you've rested. A comfortable room will be prepared for you."

"I am Jung Yeonshin, the Radiant Demon Squad Leader. Show me the respect befitting my status."

The young prodigy of Desolate Fortress allowed no further excuses.

He stepped toward Zhuge Cheon's grand chair, his robe brushing the floor like the night sky itself.

The distinct sound of fabric brushing echoed louder than it should have.

He had activated a protective aura. He was prepared for combat.

His single step sent a wave of intent that screamed he wouldn't hesitate to strike.

"This wasn't done by one person's will alone, was it? After all, this is an audience with an emissary."

The boy in black spoke.

"Apologize to me as the representative of the Alliance."

He didn't frame the issue as Zhuge Cheon's personal mistake but as one involving both the Murim Alliance and Desolate Fortress.

His words cut like a swift sword, sharp and relentless.

The lone white-clad escort of the Radiant Demon Squad Leader clicked his tongue silently. He's descended from the mountain.

"…"

Zhuge Cheon fell silent briefly. He now understood why this boy had risen to the position of Squad leader.

It was because he was already a ruler of men, regardless of age. Even setting aside martial skill.

He spoke well, acted decisively, and seized opportunities like a predator locking onto its prey.

The Go stones that had activated the formation had become his own blunder. A misstep. He had tarnished the Alliance's dignity in their first meeting.

Zhuge Cheon gazed at the boy, whose expressionless face loomed in his vision.

As acting Supreme Military Strategist, Zhuge Cheon pondered.

'If this humiliating situation doesn't remain a personal matter…?'

Zhuge Cheon had not risen to his position through martial prowess alone.

He was valued by his clan for his mastery of formations, broad knowledge, and respectable martial cultivation.

Should he call in the stationed guards? How many men and how much time would it take to subdue this boy in black?

Zhuge Cheon himself might not survive. Even if they captured him, what then?

Eradication?

The Alliance was not a monolith.

Such an incident would spark immense chaos, and the aftermath would spread like wildfire.

It was unlikely they could subdue the Radiant Demon Squad Leader without raising a commotion. The damage would be catastrophic.

Denying it afterward would be impossible. The formation's destruction left evidence.

Moreover, the boy likely understood formations well enough to find the damaged structures with a mere glance.

He had earned fame during the annihilation of the Blood Flame Cult, possibly dismantling similar formations there.

'This is hopeless.'

He had broken the Heavy Wind Wall Formation in one move.

The ability to affect mystical formations and discern their flows was no ordinary feat.

Such a decisive individual would surely examine the wreckage.

'Abandon forceful measures. The losses outweigh the gains.'

Zhuge Cheon slowly spoke, his slightly trembling hand forming a respectful salute.

"…I apologize for offending the Radiant Demon Squad Leader. I extend my regrets as a member of the Murim Alliance."

Apologies. Words Zhuge Cheon had never offered anyone as the Chief of military.

He had only ever said such words to his clan head—and that was in his early days as a mere subordinate.

The boy's lips curved faintly.

"I'll take something with me. Don't even think about denying this incident."

The young leader raised his left arm, the wide sleeve of his robe sliding down to reveal a muscular forearm.

A storm of energy erupted from his palm.

"…!"

Kwoooosh!

An immense suction force roared.

The inhalation technique he used far exceeded normal limits.

Amidst splintering wood, the ceiling of the office tore away entirely.

Dust and debris filled the air. Through the haze, Zhuge Cheon's eyes reflected utter disbelief.

'Full Sky Flower Rain…?!'

Thud!

"It's clearly inscribed."

Jung Yeonshin caught a fragment of the shattered beam while suppressing the flow of energy. He lowered the splintered wood in his left hand to eye level.

The words 'As the Law Commands' were written in bold strokes. It was unmistakably a trace of the formation.

It felt similar to what he had experienced in the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Formation of the Blood Flame Cult. A mystical aura lingered around it.

"That's not ordinary power. Is this the handwriting of the Zhuge Clan's head?"

The boy murmured. The regaining color in Zhuge Cheon's face turned sharp with hostility.

"…Do not speak of the clan head so carelessly."

"Hmm?"

"He's someone far above you—in both rank and status."

"This young leader was taught by the Lord of Desolate Fortress."

"…"

No martial artist would dare discuss rank before a noble lineage, let alone the Lord of Desolate Fortress—the most revered among their bloodline.

Zhuge Cheon's lips shut tightly. Even the dozen martial artists of the Alliance who had rushed into the office due to the commotion fell silent.

Their faces hinted at partial understanding of the situation.

"Mind your manners."

Heon Wonchang spoke, repeating the same words Jung Yeonshin had once said to Flame Dragon.

The young Radiant Demon Squad Leader casually tapped Wonchang's shoulder and turned away.

Despite the uproar, only the furnishings had been damaged. There was no sign of battle on Zhuge Cheon, the owner of the office.

As the Alliance's martial artists quietly withdrew, Jung Yeonshin's voice rang out.

"Let's meet again another day. The accommodations should already be prepared. I'll have the servant guide me."

* * *

The relationship between secular orthodox sects and Desolate Fortress was never simple, even more so before the Murim Alliance was formed.

The orthodox sects had never shown hostility toward Desolate Fortress.

After all, they were the most proactive force in protecting the people.

Though some might privately criticize their methods of wielding power, they could never openly denounce them.

So long as the orthodox sects' banner stood for righteousness and justice, they had no choice.

Yet, they had never drawn close either.

Desolate Fortress' actions had made sure of that.

They neither observed the martial world's affairs nor sought approval from the orthodox sects when addressing public sentiment.

They exposed hypocrisy and wielded the sword without hesitation, even to the point of annihilation.

Orthodox sects, by definition, pursued both righteousness and justice.

They sought fame under titles such as Righteous Path, White Path, Orthodox Lineage, and Orthodox Sect—all connoting moral integrity.

But in truth, righteousness in the martial world often diverged from justice.

Sometimes, it was significantly different.

Judged by the teachings of the Four Books and Five Classics, their beliefs often seemed disturbingly odd.

"For instance, if a guilty clan suffers extermination…"

Flame Dragon tapped the table with his large hand. Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin were seated around it.

"If a third party connected to that clan dies fighting alongside them in the calamity, they're called a chivalrous warrior—for keeping loyalty and conviction until the end. That's the prevailing sentiment in the martial world."

"I thought I understood the martial world well enough." 

Jung Yeonshin said.

Flame Dragon chuckled lazily.

"This world of noble fighters is, at its core, crude and foolish. That's why they can't get along with Desolate Fortress—if they're set on preserving their so-called chivalry."

Cloud Fragrance Courtyard.

That was the residence assigned to Jung Yeonshin's group.

As its name suggested, it was exceptionally elegant.

Just by opening the door, one could see a loft house built above the outer gate, with the entrance set on the second floor.

The miniature mountain model in the center of the yard was also beautiful. A rock had been carved and placed delicately above the garden's pond.

It was undoubtedly a treatment befitting honored guests.

Except for one detail—the location was suspicious.

"So, are you saying we might face provocation at any moment?"

Jung Yeonshin asked. Flame Dragon tilted his head toward his shoulder.

"That's a possibility. Don't you hear voices coming from all directions? The heavy footsteps echo like thunder. Well, considering we're occupying a house in the middle of the Alliance's territory, it's to be expected. I heard the Alliance is composed of over a hundred sects… Even if we don't know their intentions, doesn't this feel like an obvious trap?"

"I see."

"…But why are you smiling? I, for one, would like to die of old age."