CHAPTER 200

Jung Jungsan descended the mountain, dressed in martial robes.

The neatly arranged yellow attire suited him well. His bold facial features gave him the bearing of a warrior.

Now, even beneath Zhongnan Mountain, there were quite a few who recognized him.

He had grown more accustomed to the title of an official disciple of the Zhongnan Sect than to being the second son of the Jung Clan. His days were devoted to training.

Three months ago, he had been freed from the duty of attending to the Zhongnan Sword Immortal.

—You have grasped the basics. Now that you are no longer a mere leech, you may descend.

It was after he had mastered the first half of the Taiyi Formless Sword. He had trained to the point where he could execute sword techniques fluently with his eyes closed.

It was all because of the rumors about his half-brother that reached him, even when he wasn't consciously seeking them.

Each time he visited the foothills, he encountered unbelievable news.

"A young boy stepped forward in a duel between the Desolate Fortress and the Namgoong Clan."

"They say the Azure Qilin is dead? Tragic and shocking news. Does this mean a rising prodigy surpassing Namgoong Se-jin has emerged?"

The first thing he heard was that the hier of the Namgoong Clan had been slain.

Had they met at the Jung family manor, they would have revered him as a figure akin to the heavens. A young master often compared to Wei Ji Myohwa, the Sword Dragon.

And yet, the rumor that Jung Yeonshin had personally ended his life had spread all the way to Xian.

He had once reunited with his younger brother, now clad in the white robes of Desolate Fortress. It was difficult to believe.

But he could not dismiss it outright.

He had witnessed the martial prowess and talent of the brother he had once scorned. The sword strike that took the head of the Blood Fiend Demon Sword belonged to someone beyond ordinary ability.

Even if he had fought alongside the likes of the Sword Dragon, Natural Spirit Fist, and Cliff Sword, it was undeniable.

He had always believed that, sooner or later, his brother's name would shake the martial world. It had simply come sooner than expected.

As time passed, that too became just a fraction of the rumors.

"Merchants from Sichuan spoke of something strange. They say the Ten Perfection Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance have nearly collapsed, leading to a decrease in trade shipments…"

"The extravagance of the Thirteen Celestial Demons must have inflated the local economy considerably. That was all blood and sweat drained from the common folk. While the merchants crossing the fortress wall may lament, the people of Sichuan likely praise the change."

"Many great warriors have fallen. The Malevolent Sword was slain by the Tang Clan's leader, the Demonic Beast of the Pure Demon Alliance, the Sword-Thirst Demon, and the Sword Fist Demon were all taken down by Lightning Genius of Desolate Fortress."

"They say the martial world of Sichuan is undergoing a massive upheaval…"

"Lightning Genius? Wasn't that the boy who fought fiercely against the Azure Qilin? Surely this is an exaggerated rumor."

"Well… they call him the Radiant Demon Squad leader now. Perhaps it is true. Even the smallest trading groups are adept at gathering information—often more discerning than many martial sects."

"Even so, can that be believed? Anyone outside Huguang or Sichuan knows how difficult it is to climb the ranks of martial arts. Desolate Fortress is merely using an exceptional prodigy as its figurehead."

"Well, let's wait and see. Rumor has it that the Radiant Demon Squad leader has entered the Murim Alliance's Opening Tournament."

These conversations drifted through the bustling streets of Xian.

Xian, beneath Zhongnan Mountain, was an immense city. The streets were crowded. Merchants carried loads in trading caravans and escort groups.

Vendors set up stalls and chattered among themselves. Inn servants lazily pushed open doors. Wanderers roamed about, collecting rumors.

Even though famine had reduced the number of shops, the city remained lively.

Among them, a group of men stood on the side of the street, hands clasped behind their backs, discussing the affairs of the martial world.

Their attire was refined, with neatly tailored robes in shades of green and blue. They were a well-known fabric shop owner and a tailor in Xian.

'It can't just be baseless rumors.'

Jung Jungsan, pausing as he walked, considered reprimanding the fabric shop owner for calling it nonsense but decided against it.

It was too late to act as an older brother now. Their status was no longer comparable, an entry-level disciple of Zhongnan Sect and the Radiant Demon Squad leader of Desolate Fortress.

Jung Yeonshin had, in a way, repaid him. As a benefactor of Zhongnan Sect, he had uplifted both himself and his nephew.

He should stand up for his younger brother, and yet, memories of his childhood haunted him.

It was an utterly disgraceful sight for a disciple of the Zhongnan Sect.

'Damn it.'

Seven years ago, yet it felt like yesterday.

During a village festival hosted by the Jung Clan, he had kicked over a bowl of noodles from his younger brother's hands, scolding him to return to his room.

"Do you wish to join in? The way you keep glancing around irritates me, so my foot just moved. Go practice your junk techniques, wasn't it called Jung Clan Movement Arts?"

Jung Jungsan remembered his own words.

The other children of the village had jeered behind him, knowing full well that the direct descendants of the Jung Clan looked down upon the third son.

That day had been Jung Yeonshin's tenth birthday.

Their father had claimed that the earth energy of Xinye County would cleanse the misfortune of a son born from a mother who died in childbirth.

On his son's tenth birthday, he had gathered the villagers to pray for the fields.

The people of Xinye, drunk on wine and meat, had praised the head of the Jung Clan.

Jung Jungsan, the de facto leader among the village children, had been no different.

And that was only one instance.

Similar, or perhaps worse incidents, had occurred countless times.

Now, they were nothing but hellish regrets.

The more he immersed himself in the strict teachings of Zhongnan Sect, the heavier his guilt and shame grew.

The people of Xinye were likely living in constant anxiety, wondering when the Lord of Desolate Fortress might pass through their village.

"The young master of the Hwangbo Clan is said to serve under the Radiant Demon Squad Leader. Perhaps much of the credit should go to Lazy Flame Dragon. Even if Lightning Genius is truly the squad leader of Desolate Fortress, experience is another matter."

"You keep insisting on that. Do you have some personal grudge against a rising master?"

Despite Jung Jungsan's own emotions, the fabric shop owner and the tailor continued discussing about the Radiant Demon Squad Leader, the young martial artist destined to contest for the title of the strongest of his generation.

Rumors in the martial world were a great source of entertainment for common folk.

Who was the strongest? What feats had they accomplished? What techniques reigned supreme?

At that moment—

The tailor in green abruptly collapsed.

His neatly woven, leaf-colored robes stirred up dust.

A chilling female voice followed.

"There is no exaggeration in the rumors about the Radiant Demon Squad Leader, Lightning Genius."

The voice came from beside Jung Jungsan. Had she struck the fabric shop owner with Finger Wind?

The moment he sensed her presence, the tailor let out a shriek, just before Jung Jungsan's consciousness blurred.

A faint prickling sensation spread down his nape.

He had been struck on his Sleep Acupoint without resistance.

Despite possessing the Taiyi Heart Technique of Zhongnan Sect, sleep overtook him.

"Shopkeeper! Ah! My deepest apologies! I… I did not recognize you…!"

The tailor desperately bowed. Jung Jungsan's vision narrowed, then faded into darkness.

Just as he lost balance and staggered, an icy grip clamped onto his arm.

An utterly inhuman sensation. A firm hand seized him roughly.

It was the grasp of a supreme master. His mind was fading, but terror flared like wildfire.

'Tyrant Sword Tribe…?'

Jung Jungsan's last thought was of the rumors that the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader was heading north.

Jung Jungsan was on his way to place a grain order at the rice trading company under the orders of the Zhongnan Sect's leadership. But before the supplies could even be stocked, it seemed possible that the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader had already arrived.

His thoughts ended with a vague suspicion, and time seemed to leap forward in his consciousness. At some point, the sensation against his back had changed.

It felt like he had been dragged into a dark alley, and the distant noise of the bustling Xian marketplace faintly echoed from afar.

Smack—!

A blow to his cheek surged up to the top of his head, as if struck by the back of someone's hand.

Although winter was still some time away, a cold sensation spread through him, like he had been buried in snow.

"Get up."

The voice carried a commanding, overbearing tone that suited it perfectly.

His opponent showed no sign of treating Jung Jungsan with gentle manners. With a single gesture, his senses sharpened instantly, like a lightning bolt striking his consciousness.

The control over internal energy was terrifying. The opponent had used a small burst of internal power to momentarily stimulate Jung Jungsan's mind.

"Ugh…"

A groggy groan escaped him as he opened his eyes, his vision greeted by the ends of gray hair falling down to shoulder length, brushing softly against his sight.

At the opponent's waist hung a black sword, exuding an oppressive presence.

The weapon was terrifyingly dark, as though it were absorbing the surrounding shadows. The divine sword, imbued with its owner's spirit and energy, pulsed with intensity.

The woman before him was different from anyone he had encountered.

Even the energy emanating from her body was sharp, as though it had been solidified into form and was now stabbing at his skin.

She was undoubtedly a rare master of the martial world. Aside from the Nine Great Sects, the Eight Clans, and the Thirteen Celestial Demons, no other possibilities came to mind.

The opponent who had forcibly brought him here was an absolute master, someone who could tread the heavens.

"Are you Jung Jungsan, the son of Jung Daemyung? If you lie, I will administer Muscle-Tearing and Bone-Dislocation Technique."

It was as if frost had settled under the autumn sun. The voice scraped chillingly against the back of his neck.

The Muscle-Tearing and Bone-Dislocation Technique of a supreme master was an extreme torture technique, practiced by only a few across the land. It was said to make one truly feel their flesh and bones being disjointed.

Since inner energy would force the victim to remain conscious, they would not even have the relief of fainting to escape the pain.

'Madness…!'

A hostile supreme master towering over him in a narrow alleyway of the bustling market.

Panic slowly rose and then sprinted toward terror. A suffocating fear coiled around his mind.

"…That is correct."

Jung Jungsan answered, forcing the words out of his throat.

"You do bear some resemblance…"

The woman's voice trailed off. A hint of doubt flickered in her gaze as she scrutinized him.

Blood ties were a mysterious thing. She muttered to herself before speaking again.

"I command you, recount everything you know of Lightning Genius, Jung Yeonshin's childhood."

* * * 

The sunlight was a deep shade of blue. Under the vast, clear sky, the number of Desolate Fortress envoys had multiplied by the dozens.

The forces of the Forest Striding Squad outnumbered those of the Radiant Demon Squad Leader. Even more people had gathered to send them off.

Some, under the orders of Zhuge Clan's leader, had come to assess Lightning Genius' martial prowess.

Jung Yeonshin had wholeheartedly engaged in duels, meticulously observing their techniques in return.

These warriors had filled the pages of the Compilation of Martial Records, yet they still showed goodwill toward the squad leader of Desolate Fortress.

His status as Squad leader had earned him such regard. Even from his elevated position, he appeared to others as a man of humility.

Among them were figures like Azure One Sect's leader from Fujian and Seop Un-cheol, his first opponent in the Opening Tournament, all of whom extended their formal greetings.

"We will protect our local people, ensuring there is no disgrace upon you, Squad leader."

"No matter my brother-in-law's affairs, I deeply admire you. May you achieve great success."

Jung Yeonshin raised his hands in acknowledgment, though his thoughts remained preoccupied with Namgoong Hwashin.

Ever since laying eyes on his brother's corpse once more, White Qilin had been lost in contemplation.

How must he feel, as a younger brother?

Jung Yeonshin, having no particular affection for his own brother, found it difficult to empathize.

'I should seek Senior Ak's advice.'

As he reflected on the most dependable of his subordinates, he was reminded once again, he had now become the leader of an elite force.

Once Namgoong Hwashin returned to Obeying Heaven Squad, they would not see each other for some time. There was much to consider.

Upon returning to his domain, he would need to reorganize as Radiant Demon Squad. Strengthening their forces was paramount.

The return journey would pass swiftly. He had to replenish the ranks of the Blue rank, which had suffered heavy casualties, and personally train the nameless disciples.

It was said that competition among the squad leaders was fierce. The achievements of one's subordinates were directly tied to the prestige and standing of their commanding black-clad superiors.

'The time will come when missions are no longer assigned in small numbers.'

Jung Yeonshin was lost in thought when—

"Thank you."

The sight of Ak Yerim of the Shandong Ak Clan filled his vision.

Her loosely draped hair concealed the white fabric of her shoulders. The halberd slung across her back swayed gently with her breath.

She raised her hands in a respectful martial salute toward Jung Yeonshin. Her tone had changed.

"I, Ak Yerim, have learned much from the squad leader of Desolate Fortress. I deeply regret my youthful arrogance for troubling your judgment."

The body of Azure Qilin, Namgoong Se-jin, had been laid to rest in the Martial Alliance's communal cemetery. The grounds were vast.

It was a burial site for warriors of the Alliance who had no sect or family to claim them.

With a newfound sense of propriety among the Sword Saints, there would be no disgraceful incidents.

The Namgoong Clan could not claim the corpse as their own.

One of the most shameful events in history had been unearthed. They had no choice but to wait for the rumors to fade.

At the front gates of the Martial Alliance headquarters, where countless people passed by—

The victory of the Radiant Demon Squad Leader in the Opening Tournament had become one of the most sensational topics in recent memory within the lands of Hanzhong.

It wasn't only commoners discussing it.

In terms of sheer intensity of interest, even the martial artists of the Alliance were more invested. It was a baffling and extraordinary event.

"Moreover, you have allowed a righteous warrior to rest in peace. I offer boundless gratitude."

Ak Yerim showed no concern for the many gazes surrounding her. Her martial salute deepened into a bow.

Her hands came together entirely, and she bent at the waist with an air of sincerity. It was not merely the courtesy of a martial artist, but the gratitude of a person.

"May you be victorious."

Jung Yeonshin offered a brief word of encouragement.

He returned the martial salute, masking his awkwardness.

Even during their journey together to West Peak Road, they had exchanged only a few words. Now, as squad leader of Desolate Fortress, he would not allow himself to show it.

The next to step forward was Fan Dragon, Zhuge Hyeon.

A look of favor flickered across the eyes of the Radiant Demon Squad Leader.

His expression shifted in an instant.

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