CHAPTER 287

The wide avenue outside the manor was filled with excitement.

It was an era of survival of the fittest. The lives of the common people depended on which strong figure rose during the famine.

The hands of those who had mastered martial arts were brutally large, and the scale of plunder was on an entirely different level.

Among the warriors of the martial world, whose strategic maneuvers stretched vast like feints in battle, who would rise as the foremost figure?

The martial arts tournament spanning the entirety of the vast Shaanxi Province carried immense significance. Inside the manor, even more so.

Countless people came and went.

A massive banquet table, arranged in a square formation, stretched out under the sunlight.

"The Iron Soul Divine Sword of the Gui Clan stands alone."

"The foundation of the Pyongyang Martial Clan is the Gongya Clan. Do you know how beautiful the eldest daughter and second son are? Their appearance is unlike anything you'd see in the streets. Their martial prowess must be just as extraordinary."

"How can you discuss the young warriors of Shaanxi without mentioning the Slayer's Alliance? Do you have any idea how many villains have perished under the blades of the Five-Month Sword Technique? They recite poetry over the corpses—truly, a Yama who knows elegance."

"The noble heirs of Gao Family Sword Sect, Axe-Collector Sect, and Azure Sky Pavilion are no pushovers either. How many warriors in Shaanxi have honed their martial arts to the extreme?"

Regardless of whether their internal energy was pure or chaotic, only the sects recognized as prestigious had gathered here.

The colors of their martial robes varied widely.

Each carried meticulously maintained weapons and conversed with an air of ease, exuding the unique confidence of those who ruled as the strong during these chaotic times of famine.

"No matter how the tournament turns out, what does it matter? Perhaps now isn't the time to leisurely debate its outcome. They say the Blood Demons in the area have begun appearing like wild boars fleeing a forest fire."

"The Blood Flame Cult's swordsmen are one thing, but the foot soldiers are no real threat. I cut one of them down myself. The man seemed too terrified to focus on either energy absorption or looting."

"Was your swordsmanship truly that exceptional?"

"Well…"

The atmosphere resembled that of a noble clan's banquet.

Since this was a gathering hosted by one of the esteemed martial clans, it was fitting to think of it as such.

The expansive grounds of the manor were packed with people. Even with only the renowned sects and warriors in attendance, it was still a massive crowd. The world was truly vast.

"Gongya Jung."

"…Gui Il-tae."

Under the open space shaded by multicolored awnings, Gongya Jung adjusted the red sash wrapped around her waist. More precisely, her fingertips brushed against the scabbard secured by the sash.

An unconscious reaction, her body urging her to draw her sword as someone entered her proximity. It was Gui Il-tae of the Shaanxi Gui Clan.

"You still carry yourself with such intensity. Have you mastered formless sword energy?"

The scar on the bridge of his nose twitched as he spoke. His speech was coarse, but his presence was not.

Draped in a broad, yellow fur coat, he stood at eye level with Gongya Jung, who was already tall herself.

His body, trained both large and agile like a warrior's, and his flushed face, full of expression, exuded the confidence of a man unrestrained by anything in the world.

And rightfully so, he was the one said to have inherited the full martial legacy of the Green Forest warriors.

The Shaanxi Gui Clan was originally founded by bandits who had sought to operate openly under the sun.

The name Roaring Sky Mad Blade Gui Il-tae was well-known across Shaanxi, whether for his arrogance or his ruthless hand.

Gui Il-tae, who had been looking down at Gongya Jung, let out a chuckle.

"I heard you drove the matchmaker away. That seems rather rude for a prestigious clan. A house that has tutors recite literary classics to their heirs for generations."

"The rudeness lies with your family. To speak of marrying off the heir of a noble martial clan."

Gongya Jung did not even meet his gaze.

She spoke with the coldness of winter air brushing across one's face, all while keeping her attention on the banquet as its host.

Gui Il-tae ran his fingers along the scabbard at his waist.

"Merely suggesting consideration, how is that mockery? Go visit a high-ranking monk. He'll tell you your head is full of demonic energy. Even while feigning dignity, you're too busy guarding your interests to broaden your perspective."

Gongya Jung did not respond. Instead, she recalled the advice of the Sword Master.

—If you cannot afford to lose, align your breath and grip before engaging in combat. A fight is a collection of variables. Before I honed my inner breath, even I could not guarantee victory against a mere poppy-addict. In a realm of weaker warriors, it is even more uncertain.

Gui Il-tae had approached her without warning.

She was not in peak condition at the moment. She must not give him an opening for a fight.

'Sword Master.'

She glanced toward the table beneath the awning. A young man with a strikingly youthful face drew the attention of those around him.

His appearance was so otherworldly that reality itself seemed to blur slightly upon seeing him. He cast innocent glances at the young warriors nearby, his curiosity evident.

To Gongya Jung, it was he who seemed more like a mystery.

'As if he exists in another world.'

As a martial artist, she admired the leader of the Mystic Heaven Sect.

That ethereal sword dance under the moonlight, its poignant longing and solitude, would be impossible to forget.

And the fact that he had taught her a secret art, one worthy of ten years of training, without hesitation.

Perhaps it was due to his appearance. There was an air about him, like that of a noble divine beast.

Even with the status gap between the heir of a noble clan and a wandering warrior, he was not someone easy to approach.

"You, what are you looking at? Hm?"

A thick voice shattered her thoughts.

Roaring Sky Mad Blade, Gui Il-tae. A nemesis, just like the Slayer's Alliance.

The suffering in Shaanxi was only exacerbated by men like him.

In public settings such as this, he posed as an heir of a prestigious martial clan. Yet in the shadows, he fully wielded his martial arts to plunder food from the commoners.

His incredible movement techniques made identifying him difficult. With no concrete proof, only those in the know whispered about it.

The martial world was becoming increasingly savage.

As the heir to the Gui Clan, inheritors of the Green Forest legacy, it was a world perfectly suited for him.

With his privileged status, his violent disposition, and his formidable martial arts, he saw himself as the center of the world.

His thick lips curled slightly as he caught sight of a young man in the distance, a striking figure with flowing black hair draping over his shoulders.

"Well, now. What an unusual fellow. No wonder he caught the eyes of the great lady of the Gongya Clan. A plaything?"

Step.

The large fur coat blocked Gongya Jung's right field of vision as he walked past.

She did not stop him.

She wanted the Sword Master to connect with the esteemed warriors of Shaanxi. He was too valuable to be left to die as a mere wanderer.

It was almost a gesture of gratitude. If the Green Forest Gui Clan sought to suppress the Sword Master with their influence, she intended to stand as his shield.

"Send some Shaoxing wine to that table."

Gongya Jung ordered the attendant standing behind her, pointing toward the Mystic Heaven Sect's Sword Master.

* * *

Swish.

The dark sleeves of a robe brushed against the table, drawing gazes.

Many here possessed keen senses. Maintaining composure in the presence of warriors who had mastered sensory refinement was no easy feat.

'What is there to stare at?'

Jung Yeonshin silently grasped his cup.

Many approached him with curiosity. Most of their eyes lingered on his face. He had never experienced this when wearing robes adorned with the 'Desolate' character.

Lowering his status and concealing his martial prowess had exposed him to a harsher world than expected.

Had he not entered the Desolate Fortress, what would he be doing now?

Suddenly, he thought of the Pure Blood Robe buried beneath the earth. And the smooth smile of the Seventh Apostle.

He shook his head. That did not suit his nature. Not even remotely.

'Perhaps I would have become the disciple of the Cloud Dragon Sword, training at the Zhongnan Sect.'

Jung Yeonshin idly rubbed his cup, focusing on the movements around him.

'The man on my right, devouring meat nonstop, is the First Sword of the Gao Family Sword Sect. The woman drinking ahead on the left is the young sect leader of Axe-Collector Sect, a rising name in Azure Sky Pavilion. The one from the Golden Clan, some Jin-something, is near the rear side door, stroking his sword. The approaching giant is from the Gui Clan of Shaanxi. And then…'

One by one, he confirmed his targets. It felt like he had become an assassin.

He had already looked into them through Gongya Jung. They were the ones who plundered the common folk through any means possible.

Stealing freshly harvested grain had become routine for them. They would also cunningly siphon off the tribute food prepared for taxes, forcing the peasants to pay twice.

Yet, the evidence was merely circumstantial. Martial artists who had mastered the Protective Energy Technique left no traces.

Even the Gongya Clan had only managed to infer their crimes from the testimonies of powerless commoners.

A world that bows to strength. Such was the grim reality of the martial world in times of famine.

"In Songshan, the Hundred and Eight Arhats Formation was once again deployed. It was a cloudy day, but they say the clouds split wide open. The incense devotees of Dengfeng County all bowed in reverence on the spot, so it must be true. They claim they saw the palm of the Buddha."

"Has His Majesty descended once more?"

"Who knows? The world is in turmoil. Maybe some monstrous being was repelled by the Shaolin monks."

"Have you heard the rumor that the leader of the Divine Sword Order wiped out One Kill Every Ten Li of the Dark Night War?"

"You speak of matters beyond reach. Just the other day, I acquired an immortal painting by the artist Tang Yin. Hanging it on my wall, I felt the air turn refreshingly clear. It must truly be the work of a master. If compared to martial arts, it would be like a supreme master of the Sword of the Heart leaving behind a painting."

"You certainly live in leisure. I'll visit soon to take a look. The stench of cow dung at our manor has become unbearable."

"I heard you bought a hundred oxen during the famine. Do you even have enough fodder to feed them?"

"Plenty."

Those who had initially shown interest upon hearing of the identity of the Mystic Heaven Sect's leader soon lost interest.

The attention of those around was not solely on Jung Yeonshin. It was, after all, a banquet for the prestigious clans.

Many groups sat in tightly closed circles, allowing no outsiders to approach. A mere guest had no place in the gathering of the truly wealthy.

It was a lavish feast.

Delicacies and fine wines from every region were served.

There was the renowned Guihua chicken dish from Hangzhou, Mapo tofu from Sichuan, and the vinegar-infused stir-fried mushrooms unique to Shanxi.

The scent of delectable food seemed to swirl like mist, enveloping the surroundings.

Even the sword fragrance of the Mount Hua Sect's immortals would be powerless before such a feast. Dozens of people laughed and chatted away.

Contrary to Gongya Jung's intentions, Jung Yeonshin had no desire to mingle with them. It was enough to observe their faces, builds, energy signatures, and names.

"You're quite shy. It's unsightly."

A coarse voice boomed from above. The sheer volume of the speaker's voice was immense.

Jung Yeonshin lifted his gaze without a change in expression. It was someone he had already sensed earlier.

A member of the Shaanxi Gui Clan. A massive-built man loomed over him, his expression grim.

"You said your surname is Geom? I've never heard of such a name before. Must be because your lineage is lowly. Lacking any proper background, you must have come to cling to the Gongya Clan. If that's the case, shouldn't you at least make good use of that pretty tongue of yours? The lady must expect you to entertain the esteemed guests."

A few people whistled.

Those from truly noble clans simply observed with deep-set eyes. Such quarrels were a common occurrence whenever martial artists gathered.

"Lineage…"

Jung Yeonshin tilted his head slightly.

"I heard you're descended from bandits."

"..."

This time, many more gazes turned toward them.

Roaring Sky Mad Blade, Gui Il-tae. Along with the Young Lady of the Gongya Clan and the leader of the Slayer's Alliance, he was one of the strongest contenders for victory in the martial tournament.

It was said that he had mastered the Iron Soul Divine Sword, a culmination of the finest techniques of the Green Forest sword arts.

A warrior famed for cutting down over ten mounted bandits in a single strike.

Even his gaze was oppressive. It was as if he had never once needed to look up at anyone.

His intent to disgrace the Gongya Clan through Jung Yeonshin was evident.

Then.

Jung Yeonshin suddenly raised his hand.

And struck.

No blade was drawn. The force carried in his extended palm distorted the air, bending it near Gui Il-tae's side.

Like mist taking form, blood burst from the back of a hidden Blood Demon.

Puhwaak!

"Guaaaah!"

The distinct crimson hair of a Blood Flame Cult swordsman flared up.

The servant carrying a dish of food gasped in terror and collapsed to the ground.

"Stealth arts? Stay alert and focus your senses!"

"It's the Blood Flame Cult! We're under attack!"

Chaos erupted in an instant. The sound of weapons being drawn and the shockwaves of internal energy clashing exploded across the banquet hall.

Exposed, the warriors of the Blood Flame Cult surged in from all directions.

Clang! Shhhhh!

The ground trembled. The once-carefree air grew stifling. Those skilled in swift swordsmanship were the first to collapse, blood spraying as they lost their balance.

In mere moments, the situation turned dire.

The Gongya Clan was already known for its wealth, and during a famine, the scent of food had spread thick in the air.

News of the banquet coinciding with the martial tournament had traveled far and wide.

The starving Blood Demons from the Shaanxi branch must have seen this as an opportunity.

"To the right! Block the right flank!"

"A whip! There's someone skilled in whip techniques! Do we have any experts in defensive martial arts?"

"There are five Blood Flame Cult swordsmen…!"

As the martial experts swiftly responded, the attendants and servants screamed in terror.

Even if these Blood Demons were nothing more than a disorderly horde, to ordinary people, they were demons beyond comprehension.

Casualties were inevitable.

That was, until Jung Yeonshin moved.

He did not hesitate.

Step.

After a single sweeping glance at the battlefield, he took his first step.

The moment a faint aura shimmered like mist beneath his feet, a massive constellation seemed to faintly form across the banquet hall.

His body, distorting the air itself, traced a long arc, bending five times.

Zweeeeeeng!

One Blood Flame Cult swordsman, who had barely managed to block the first strike with his blade, was sent hurtling away.

A deafening explosion swept through the hall. The man, now a bloodied wreck, slammed into the wall as if struck by an enormous cannon.

Within the dimly flickering constellation of daylight—

Crack! Puhwaak!

Bodies shattered, and blood burst forth. The five consecutive shockwaves connected as one.

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