CHAPTER 179

The one who held the largest financial backing in the Murim Alliance met with the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad of Desolate Fortress.

The encounter between the two figures instantly drew the attention of those who had been warily avoiding their path.

"Lady Ye? Wasn't her hair originally red?"

"You're behind on the news. There's talk that she's mastered her cultivation technique."

"Mastery of the Energy Absorption Method? I don't understand."

"Unmarried children of the Ye Clan don't reveal their names easily. The reason lies in the manifestation of red-black hair similar to the effects of Blood Arts. They say the deeper her cultivation, the more it shifts back to black, and that transformation occurred during the Opening Tournament."

"During the Opening Tournament…! Were there many witnesses?"

"There was a large crowd. Heads of prominent clans and even the Alliance Leader were present. Having proven herself in lineage, wealth, and martial arts, she was appointed the position of the Alliance's Chief Military Strategist."

"Is it something that can be dismissed as merely 'similar'? Isn't it too identical, to simply overlook?"

The man lowered his voice. The swordsman, who had been conversing with him, chuckled faintly.

"They say the enlightenment of a master comes suddenly. When one transcends a wall, their aura becomes impossible to hide. Namgoong Hwashin, the White Qilin, faced a crisis during a match, and suddenly, her entire group rose from the observation seats. The scene of a pure aura washing away her red hair to black... Personally, it was as impressive as the display shown by the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. If anything, it dispelled even the faintest of suspicions."

"White Qilin! Right, what happened to the White Qilin? I heard he fought against a prominent member of the Hongwon Sect!"

"Not a prominent member, but their Sect Leader. An experienced master in his forties..."

Jung Yeonshin had heard it all.

Even before Ye Hwa-rin approached. The radiant halo surrounding her was the culmination of her innate abilities.

For a moment, if it had moved on its own, it would have been hard to overlook.

Thus, he remained still.

By the time she had come so close, it briefly reminded him of the Seventh Apostle. Her unusually cheerful tone, as if detached from reality, was the reason.

Had her voice been similar, he might have grown more suspicious.

The jawline along her delicate face was slightly narrower than Ye Hwa-rin's, and the space between her brows and the bridge of her nose was marginally wider.

Those were regions where nerves and acupoints of the upper dantian were distributed. Positions that could not be altered by the art of disguise.

Still, he had to be certain.

Even as she reached out her hand, he didn't move. It was no different from when he instantly discerned the energy of the Demonic Faction.

Through contact, he intended to confirm the genuine inner energy. However, the radiant wheel pulsed just once and then ceased responding.

Even when her hand fully touched his, it remained the same. Unless there was a rare treasure that could entirely conceal one's aura, she was most likely a genuine orthodox martial artist.

'Could it have been the spiritual energy reacting first?'

It was possible if her pure energy had been absorbed. Yoo Hyun of the Mount Hua Sect experienced something similar.

It was due to cultivating the renowned Violet Dawn Sacred Arts, a highly esteemed Taoist martial art. The same could likely be said for Wei Ji Myohwa, who cultivated the Zhongnan martial arts of Taoism.

As the young man calmly sorted through his thoughts.

"You're bolder than you seem. Your unassuming expression belies a surprisingly delicate nature."

A faint smile.

Ye Hwa-rin stepped back, her fingers trailing off his hand, separating lastly at her index and middle fingers.

The fingers used to form the Sword Seal. A sign of a martial artist serious about their training.

"If you feel at a loss, I'll clarify. That's my childhood name. As an adult, I was granted another name during the coming-of-age ceremony. I only reveal it during significant moments."

"Recite the Sword Saint's message properly."

He spoke. Ye Hwa-rin's smile deepened.

"That's truly all it was. One suggestion: that it's fine to wait and decide later. Whether you follow it or not is entirely up to you. Who in this place could possibly compel the actions of Desolate Fortress' leader of the Radiant Demon Squad?"

"I see."

Jung Yeonshin gave a short reply.

The sensation of something probing at his upper dantian tickled. It was a dense goodwill, entering through the Baihui Acupoint, which had become even more open lately.

It originated from Ye Hwa-rin, who smiled before him. It felt as if syrup was seeping into his thoughts. She was an exceptionally peculiar figure.

Shaking his head slightly, the young man began to move away.

Then, Ye Hwa-rin clasped the flowing white sleeves of her robe behind her back.

"The White Qilin replaced you in the Opening Tournament. He's likely preparing for his next match."

"…Thank you."

"We'll see each other often. It's now my duty to treat you with respect. Delegates of the Murim Alliance who are not part of the Alliance must be handled with the utmost care."

She smiled, leaving behind the suggestion not to turn her away if she came unannounced.

After a brief pause, Jung Yeonshin resumed walking.

Lazy Flame Dragon, who had been observing the Alliance's martial artists, quickly followed. Walking alongside, he lowered his head slightly.

"She seems presumptuous, but she doesn't overstep her bounds. When she touched you earlier, she lightly relaxed the forearm muscles and completely extracted the residual energy from your meridians. It seems she has mastered orthodox martial arts, and her control over internal energy is remarkable."

"…"

"The famous Lady Ye was truly that woman. I hear that among the young ones here, there are few who don't admire her. Even the pretentious offspring of white-path factions, who pride themselves on their upbringing, lose their composure."

Lazy Flame Dragon rambled, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. With a sly grin, he glanced at the young leader's expression.

He was aware of the significance of the Shaolin Grand Revitalization Pill as the reward for the Opening Tournament to Jung Yeonshin.

The young man had given the Sacred Pill, a reward from his Sichuan mission, to his grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok.

It was a spiritual pill awarded by the Fortress' General Affairs Bureau in recognition of his achievements. The Chief Administrator had authorized its free use.

It was said to have been procured from Shaolin, waiting for a deserving recipient.

He had placed it by his unconscious grandfather's bedside.

After nearly perishing in a mutual kill with the Blood Flame Cult Leader, Ma Yeonjeok had been left in a wretched state, frequently losing consciousness.

'The Sacred Pill isn't enough.'

The Grand Revitalization Pill, renowned after the Fruit of the World Tree, might be different.

He didn't hope for his grandfather to immediately recover his martial skills. He merely wished for him to move freely once more.

The image of him standing against the Blood Flame Cult Leader amidst the storm of azure flames remained vivid in his mind. A memory etched with the love he had never received from a blood relative.

He couldn't let the Alliance's schemes deter him. His hand gripping the sword tightened.

Even after Ye Hwa-rin had touched his hand, he hadn't let go. The veins on the back of his hand bulged. The young man spoke.

"Focus on the Opening Tournament first."

Lazy Flame Dragon chuckled softly, as if he liked what he heard.

"I enjoy seeing the young leader's resolve focus entirely on one thing. It makes me curious about what might happen. But hasn't the Opening Tournament already begun?"

"What does it matter?"

It wasn't Jung Yeonshin who replied. Heon Wonchang spoke, his eyes flashing as he walked alongside the two toward Cloud Fragrance Courtyard.

A colorless glint shone in his pupils—an aura of inner energy. He had been brimming with fury ever since hearing news of the tournament's commencement.

"I'll teach those fools the meaning of shame. The young leader need only wield the sword."

"That's convenient."

Lazy Flame Dragon muttered.

The martial artists of the Alliance, who had stood idly, gradually disappeared into the distance behind them. So did the onlookers from outside.

They had seen the Alliance's Chief Military Strategist conversing with the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad from Desolate Fortress.

The sight of figures of such high rank mingling always had a way of intimidating other martial artists.

The only person smiling even slightly was the young lady of the Ye Clan.

She alone openly stared at the back of the young leader of the Radiant Demon Squad.

'Whatever the old Sword Saint may have said, my Taesa's intentions come first. I've delivered the message, so that's enough.'

Leaving behind her smooth smile, the group from Desolate Fortress soon entered Cloud Fragrance Courtyard.

It wasn't the usual silent retreat. A faint scent of blood lingered in the air.

As the startled servants looked on at the sudden arrival of the young men, Jung Yeonshin noticed Namgoong Hwashin in the yard.

Bending over a small pond, dipping his hand into the water.

The posture of the White Qilin was unsteady. He propped one foot on a rock and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

After sensing the group's presence, he seemed to try to compose himself. Realizing it was too late, he offered an embarrassed smile.

"I'm glad you're safe."

Namgoong Hwashin spoke. The young man looked at him quietly.

"…I heard you took my place in the match."

"I had good fortune and did not lose. I was also fortunate not to face any rising talents. The martial artists I faced beforehand were all seasoned middle-level experts, each providing valuable lessons. From what I hear, most of the young martial artists have been eliminated, leaving primarily older masters."

In a composed tone, was this the face that the Azure Qilin used to show Namgoong Hwashin?

He wore a faint smile, barely noticeable, like the ripples in the small pond beside him. However, he seemed exhausted.

"...."

The autumn wind distinctly brushed across the young man's face. Jung Yeonshin felt its translucent touch.

An invisible breeze lingered momentarily in the silence, swirling gently as ripples spread over the pond's surface.

The young man said, 

"Thank you."

* * *

The next day.

News of the Desolate Fortress party's return didn't attract much attention.

The martial artists of the Alliance, who saw them near the main gate, felt shame. They could only keep it quiet.

Even the leaders of the Murim Alliance refrained from widely spreading the news of the Profound Martial Alliance's defeat.

It was a celebratory period meant to boost the morale and public sentiment of the Murim Alliance. The Opening Tournament could be described as a festival of martial prowess held in Hanzhong, Shaanxi.

"Radiant Zen Sword, Hero of Yeju! Step forward and broaden the horizons of your fellow warriors!"

A voice imbued with inner energy resounded powerfully. Zhuge Cheon, a middle-aged man dressed in deep green martial robes and acting as the Alliance's Chief Strategist, personally stepped forward.

He stood atop a grand, circular martial stage, a symbol of the Alliance's orthodox white-path martial arts. A deafening roar of cheers filled the surroundings.

Waaaaaah!

The crowd, numbering nearly a thousand, surrounded the area. It felt as though the season had returned to a summer's day.

The wooden observation towers scattered around were packed with people, miraculously holding their weight.

A middle-aged man in a yellow robe ascended the martial stage. This was Seop Un-cheol, known as the Radiant Zen Sword, a native martial artist born and raised in Hanzhong.

His sharp eyebrows and piercing eyes exuded an extraordinary air. He was also well-known as the brother-in-law of the Zhuge Clan's leader.

On the opposite side, So Jun, the Hero of Yeju, approached with an equally exceptional aura.

The moment he stepped onto the stage, the spectators perched in the observation towers wavered for a moment.

The pressure carried in his footwork caused it.

The presence of seasoned masters differed greatly from that of rising talents.

They were, after all, the key players in determining the outcome of the Opening Tournament.

"There are so many dragons and tigers. Was it really necessary to rush the schedule?"

"We had to consider contingencies."

"What about the public's perception?"

"Hanzhong is already our Alliance's territory. From the perspective of righteousness, any disgrace will be diluted."

"The strategist speaks wisely. Besides… it's not as though we lack masters to oppose the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad below the elder level. Even among the heads of the clan martial forces, there are middle-aged masters at their prime. And didn't the Mount Hua Swordmaster descend from the mountain?"

"Let's not bring that up. Sending a boy martial artist who hasn't even reached adulthood to them was already part of Desolate Fortress' ploy. For us, a loss would've been utter humiliation, while a victory wouldn't have been a true triumph either."

This was the viewing platform of the Murim Alliance's leaders. Under a lavish canopy, shaded from the sun, soft-spoken conversations passed back and forth.

A sense of victory, natural to their lifetimes, flowed with dignity.

These were the aristocrats of Murim, living by their own rules within their world.

In one corner, a middle-aged swordsman in the robes of the Mount Hua Sect furrowed his brows. Arms crossed, his closed eyes betrayed his discomfort.

The Little Sword Queen, a top disciple representing the Dianqing Sect, wore a similar expression. Her vacant gaze failed to fully conceal her unease.

However, the Opening Tournament was a turbulent current signaling the flow of the era. There was little that sects meditating deep in the mountains could do.

"Radiant Zen Sword and Hero of Yeju. Who's your bet on?"

"I've already put half my remaining fortune on the Mount Hua Swordmaster and the First Fist of the Eun Clan, but… just watching their duel will be enlightening. I think the Radiant Zen Sword's techniques might be slightly sharper. He was once called the greatest genius of Hanzhong."

"People near Yeju might think differently."

While the crowd chatted excitedly, Radiant Zen Sword Seop Un-cheol and Hero of Yeju So Jun faced each other.

The excitement rapidly escalated. The cheers rose endlessly.

On the fourth day of this once-in-a-lifetime festival in the Central Plains, another grand event was about to begin.

Then,

Boom!

A flag suddenly struck the center of the martial stage at an angle. A fierce wave of energy dug into the ground.

Dust swirled in concentric circles, carried by the shockwave of condensed inner energy.

A white flag tied to a steel pole fluttered violently.

The character 'Desolate' emblazoned on its surface was revealed for all to see.

"This is Jung Yeonshin, the Lightning Genius of Desolate Fortress, who pities the common people of Hanzhong!"

A young man's voice echoed across the arena, infused with extreme inner energy.

The power radiating from the flag matched the aura of the voice, reverberating in all directions as if created by the Lion's Roar Technique.

"I have repelled the martial army of the Eternal Heaven Sword Demon and the Profound Martial Alliance—!"

The roar was immense. The very air seemed to tremble.

A sudden commotion erupted. It was an act rarely imagined in the white-path martial world.

Despite its reckless form, the scene stirred the spirits of countless onlookers. Murmurs spread like a tidal wave.

In the moment it took for the hundreds of martial artists to blink, under the white flag of Desolate Fortress stood a young boy clad in black robes. His audacity was astonishing.

The aftershock of his formidable lightness skill rushed in belatedly.

As the black robe and dark hair swayed together, the young leader of the Radiant Demon Squad slowly parted his lips.

"As an emissary, I intended to participate, but due to my own shortcomings, I am late. Wasn't this Alliance originally formed to oppose Desolate Fortress? Without me, what meaning does it have? Or am I wrong?"

He fully embraced his role as a representative of Desolate Fortress' black rank. His voice was utterly arrogant.

His demeanor and aura matched. The young prodigy stood confidently between the Radiant Zen Sword and the Hero of Yeju.

With his smooth chin slightly raised, he gazed down at the crowd below the stage.

"Leader of the Radiant Demon Squad?"

"That movement technique…!"

The boy paid no attention to the two seasoned masters.

With one hand behind his back, he gripped the flagpole of Desolate Fortress' emissary banner with the other. Pulling the embedded pole from the ground, he spoke.

"Desolate Fortress does not shy away from challenges."

With that, he drove the pole back into the ground.

Thud!

A heavy vibration echoed. From where his feet stood, a circular wave of energy spread outward, accompanied by a faint wind.

The flagpole stood perfectly vertical against the stage. The flag, emblazoned with the bold character for 'Desolate', fluttered vigorously.

"I take full responsibility for being late. From now on, I will face all matches alone."

The leader of the Radiant Demon Squad twisted his lips into a grin.

"You need not worry about the disgrace of sequential battles."

"...."

For a moment, it felt as if the world had frozen in place.