Most martial sects of Shaanxi Province were unable to attend the gathering held in Shaanxi.
They lacked the broad insight necessary to recognize the Radiant Demon Squad's leader of Desolate Fortress, who had disguised themselves under false identities.
The world was vast beyond measure, and once one crossed a single city, even well-known supreme masters often found their appearances distorted by rumor, diverging into multiple versions.
Take, for instance, the Desolate Divine Spear, Ak Surim. In certain regions of Jianghu, rumors described him as a five-year-old child, while others claimed she was an elderly woman covered in wrinkles.
The Thirteen Celestial Demons, the Nine Great Sects, the Eight Noble Clans.
Shaanxi Province had no sect that had made a name for itself on such a grand scale.
Despite being as vast as some small nations, it was nearly barren of martial heritage. Compared to the endless expanse of the world, it was so.
The dominance of a strong military prevented the rise of a great sect.
Thus, the martial artists of Shaanxi lived in a world of their own, fierce schemes and covert negotiations, secret raids, and relentless martial training…
They were busy securing food during times of famine and expanding their forces.
Such was the era they lived in. As lords of fertile lands, they planted their swords in scarecrows, not to chase away birds, but to ward off people.
And they enjoyed the prestige of a noble clan, tasting delicacies even in times of famine, collecting famous paintings, and welcoming esteemed figures from all fields as honored guests.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwaang! Jjeo-eooeong—!
A thunderous roar surged through the banquet hall.
It was only natural that the blood demons would target the food first in their attack.
It was clear from their sunken cheeks and emaciated appearances that they had been driven out by something overwhelming, unable to eat properly.
They had come upon hearing rumors that a banquet was being held at the renowned Gongya Clan.
The startled martial artists unsheathed their weapons in haste, leaving them no time to concern themselves with the servants around them.
The Blood Flame Cult's Energy Absorbing Demon Art inflicted fatal internal energy loss. They had no choice but to desperately muster their energy at once.
The dust rising chaotically from the banquet hall floor was proof of their vigilance.
The moment a fang so much as grazed them, the internal energy they had painstakingly accumulated would vanish.
Time never turned back. Even the minuscule energy they had refined through breath control the previous day was as valuable as treasure to a martial artist.
As the martial artists, who were seated as honored guests, took their positions to form a defensive formation, the leaders of the various sects assessed their disciples.
Then, the anticipated melee ended in a single breath.
"Protective Energy Technique…?"
One of the martial artists from a noble clan, gripping his sword energy tightly, murmured swiftly.
Saaa—
Something akin to a comet swept through the banquet hall in an instant, leaving behind only a faint, lingering glow of white light.
The Blood Master Swordsmen, who had blocked the movement path, were shattered entirely, flesh and all. Few could even comprehend what kind of technique had been executed.
Had it truly been just the aftereffects of a single use of lightness skill?
It was like a constellation that had been hidden in the daylight suddenly manifesting itself clearly. A martial technique unfathomable in the land where bandits who practiced rudimentary martial arts ran rampant.
Thud, thud.
Chunks of flesh, flung high into the air, belatedly rained down.
Limbs, completely devoid of blood, as if the very liquid had been evaporated. It was a sight rarely witnessed even after being struck by a Thunder Bomb. The sheer force of the single strike had obliterated the Blood Master Swordsmen's defensive inner energy entirely.
All movement in the hall ceased. Both the attacking blood demons and the martial artists who had been fighting back froze.
The noble heirs, who had been discussing fine paintings, stole glances at a young vagabond of their age.
The various sect leaders, who had been deliberating Shaanxi's governance, displayed expressions of shock that exceeded their disciples' understanding.
They were people of refined demeanor, so it didn't show too obviously.
Sarak.
At the seat where the Protective Energy Technique had begun, a dark sleeve brushed past the table.
Before anyone had noticed, Jung Yeonshin's hand had returned to its original position, breaking the silence as his fingers wrapped around a wine cup.
He raised his cup slightly toward Gui Il-tae, the heir of the Gui Clan of Shaanxi, who stood frozen in place.
"They say bandits become a disorderly rabble without their leader."
"...."
"But blood demons are different. Their foundation lies not in their leader, but in their doctrine. You can't leave the survivors alone. Take action immediately."
Now, Jung Yeonshin's words carried the weight of experience.
His remark, mocking Gui Il-tae, who had spoken of foundations, rang clear and true.
A vagabond with the face of a noble, yet with firsthand experience in real battle, such words could only come from a hardened veteran of Jianghu.
Mystic Heaven Sect's leader, Geom Un-bi. He was a peculiar figure, no matter how one looked at him.
Gui Il-tae, a massive man who usually spoke with a wolfish grin, met his gaze in silence. His deep-set eyes seemed even darker than before.
He was the heir of a great martial clan. Even if his experience in Jianghu was limited, his ability to read people was not.
The one before him was no common third-rate scoundrel.
A mere pawn meant to disgrace the Gongya Clan was now ridiculing the heir of the Gui Clan of Shaanxi, there was no easy way to retort.
Gui Il-tae slowly turned away. He had just realized that an unexpected expert stood before him.
Fighting such a master in battle would yield nothing but losses. Reckless bravado would lead him to the same fate as the Blood Master Swordsmen, whose bodies had been torn apart.
'A master who could even exchange blows with my father…'
If Mount Hua Sect and the Tyrant Sword Tribe were in Shaanxi, then in Shaanxi, the Gongya Clan and the Gui Clan were the most prominent noble clans.
Even if there was a stark difference in martial prowess between regions, a clan leader was an extreme master in their own right.
If Geom Un-bi's martial prowess was on that level, there was no way not to be chilled to the bone, especially considering the insult he had just uttered.
Gui Il-tae speculated on the reason his head had not been cut off.
Aside from his status, he could think of no other explanation.
As a guest of the Gongya Clan, which upheld the righteous faction's values, even a distinguished visitor's neck could not be severed over a few words.
Sreung.
He drew his blade. It was time to follow the vagabond's command.
'The Gongya Clan has gained wings. This is a disaster.'
As he advanced toward the blood demons who had lost their Blood Master Swordsman, Gui Il-tae's lips stiffened.
He was the acting leader of the Gui Clan of Shaanxi. He had to take this incident at the banquet with great seriousness.
* * *
There were no casualties.
Despite the chaotic battle, all the servants survived.
Because an unknown vagabond had acted as a decisive war asset.
He had wiped out the enemy's vanguard in an instant, crushing their morale. He remained seated until the battle's end, watching over the common folk.
At any moment, he seemed ready to unleash his mysterious lightness skill once more.
His slightly downturned eyes glowed with an odd obsession, one that showed an unusual concern for the lives of the servants.
The movement of his gaze scanning the hall said as much.
He paid no heed to noble clans, instead immersing himself deeply in the plight of Jianghu's transient commoners.
Yet, he had earned the right to do so.
Even if whispers followed his actions, Geom Un-bi, leader of Mystic Heaven Sect, had become the talk of the noble families of Shaanxi.
"It's clear that he must be of an extraordinary lineage, like us. Such exceptional talent never comes from humble blood."
"Isn't it obvious just by looking at his appearance?"
"Even the leader of the Gongya Clan seemed slightly taken aback. If he is a wandering swordsman who only recently entered this manor, perhaps we should offer him power and wealth to bring him into our fold…"
"A wanderer? I heard he is the leader of Mystic Heaven Sect. If you wish to win someone over, you must first correct your mindset."
Despite the attack, the banquet did not end in a single day.
Instead, it continued, growing even grander as time passed.
It had turned into a display of power, celebrating the Gongya Clan's acquisition of an immensely powerful martial artist.
The Clan Leader even invited Jung Yeonshin for a private meeting, sharing a drink with him.
Even the news of a conflict between Yeoryeong Sect and the Tyrant Sword Tribe against the Murim Alliance faded into the background.
It was around this time that Jung Yeonshin received a letter from a servant.
—On the night of the full moon, meet me at the Eternal Darkness Pavilion on the western grounds of the manor. If you come, you will not regret it.
The handwriting exuded confidence.
The powerful strokes of the characters carried traces of profound inner energy, reflecting both the writer's character and their level of martial skill.
Unlike the countless invitations Jung Yeonshin had received in the past few days, this one felt different.
"The letter has a fragrant scent. It's used for messages sent to esteemed individuals. The paper is crafted from Luminous Tree by Axe-Collector Sect. It says 'full moon', doesn't it? We received an invitation as well."
A young boy, standing with his hands lightly clasped behind him, leaned back slightly as he spoke.
He made an effort not to glance at the letter directly, maintaining etiquette.
It was Gongya Su, the second son of the Gongya Clan.
Ever since the banquet, he had frequently visited the guest quarters.
With a bright smile, he openly expressed his desire to call Jung Yeonshin his elder brother.
His sharp Gongya Clan eyes softened into admiration whenever he looked at Jung Yeonshin, resembling his older sister, Gongya Jung, in that regard.
"The Sect Leader of Axe-Collector Sect personally assured our Clan Leader of absolute safety."
Gongya Jung spoke with a subtle expression.
"Our Clan Leader has permitted attendance. Given the deep ties between our clans and the host, such confidence cannot be taken lightly."
Despite having witnessed Geom Un-bi's overwhelming martial prowess, her words remained steady.
Even as she lowered her hands in a respectful posture, a firm, unshakable presence emanated from her.
The atmosphere around her reminded Jung Yeonshin of a towering cliff.
A martial artist who had tempered herself in a completely different flow of time, like a stone bowl sculpted by countless years of erosion.
The distance between them felt vast.
Jung Yeonshin avoided meeting Gongya Jung's gaze.
She was someone who fundamentally triggered his inferiority complex.
A mere insect struggling within Desolate Fortress could not help but feel a sense of insignificance before a person like her.
Even amongst the highest masters of noble martial clans, he had never felt such an emotion.
Perhaps it was because death loomed closer with each passing year, and the bonds of mentorship only deepened this disparity.
Lowering his gaze slightly, Jung Yeonshin asked,
"Are there other participants in the martial tournament whom I have yet to see?"
"Yes. Shaanxi is vast, so not everyone has gathered yet. By the time of the banquet at the Eternal Darkness Pavilion, the numbers will have grown."
"I will attend. Let us go together."
Recalling the Pure Blood Robe, he responded. There were many names to be added to the register.
* * *
The sun hung high in the sky.
Its distant rays poured down like moonlight, transparent and serene.
By the lakeside, where rippling waves sparkled like stars, a pavilion with an elegant curved roof stood prominently.
"Welcome."
Gui Il-tae of the Gui Clan of Shaanxi gave a brief clasped-fist salute to the three individuals before him.
He seemed more concerned about the newly emerged vagabond, Geom Un-bi, rather than his powerful rivals, the Gongsun siblings.
The sharp light gleaming in his sunken eyes reflected this, as did the subtle way he scrutinized Jung Yeonshin.
Yet, his thoughts were completely concealed.
'A vagabond, nothing more. A lowborn.'
Gui Il-tae took it upon himself to act as their guide. This was not just a banquet hosted by the Axe-Collector Sect.
The Gui Clan of Shaanxi had also contributed its strength. This was a gathering of the most distinguished figures in all of Shaanxi.
A venerable master had been invited, someone capable of crushing the spirit of rising talents.
Through this event, they would suppress the guest welcomed by the Gongya Clan. The era of famine in Jianghu dictated that only the strong would survive.
They would prove that the Gongya Clan was not the only faction worth serving, and if anyone disagreed, they would use the venerable master's hand to eliminate them.
That was acceptable.
The Gongya Clan was a righteous faction. They upheld their prestige not through large-scale faction wars but through martial tournaments.
In contrast, the Gui Clan of Shaanxi had begun bribing officials, taking advantage of the famine.
'How could a nameless vagrant who has crawled through the dirt possibly contend with a master who has honed their martial arts in the heavens?'
He did not doubt the master's prowess, nor the lowly nature of the vagabond, Geom Un-bi.
He remained pragmatic yet firmly maintained his sense of superiority. As the grand heir of a clan formed by former generals of the northern frontlines, this was how he had always lived.
Gui Il-tae, with his bear-like, rugged features, smiled smoothly.
"Geom. Since you never had a surname, forming a clan of your own should be easy. I misspoke last time."
"For a mere mistake, you certainly talked at length."
Jung Yeonshin, who had been walking behind, asked in curiosity before understanding dawned upon him.
"Ah… I get it. A bandit's mistake is not a slip of the tongue but a misplaced swing of an axe that takes the lives of travelers."
"Hmm…"
Gui Il-tae failed to find a suitable response.
Gongya Su, the second son of the Gongya Clan, snickered, while his sister, Gongsun Jung, did not bother to restrain him as the group arrived before the pavilion.
Many figures were already present.
Among those attending the banquet, none were without noble bloodlines.
Every one of the dozen men and women, armed with all manner of weapons, belonged to esteemed clans.
"Look over there. That's why the grand heir of the Gui Clan personally came to greet them."
"He's acting unusual… Is it because of that person? His appearance certainly lives up to the rumors, but could his martial arts be just as formidable?"
"Quiet. This is where Master Eun is seated. Do not disturb the venerable master's ears."
The lavish banquet table buzzed with murmurs.
Yet, it was not a rowdy commotion. Their conversation was more akin to hushed whispers.
The noble sons and daughters who had previously disregarded Jung Yeonshin at the earlier banquet were now displaying utmost courtesy.
The reason was easy to surmise.
At the head seat of the grand pavilion—
A woman sat casually, one knee propped up onto the table.
The first thing that stood out was her sharply defined arm muscles, from her deltoids down. At the end of the bluish veins extending from her forearms, a loosely gripped wine bottle rested in her hand.
Her calloused palms indicated she was a hand-to-hand fighter. Her hair, unkempt and falling to her shoulders, did not gleam with silkiness but rather radiated a raw, powerful energy.
She was someone to whom the sleeveless, ash-colored martial robe was a perfect fit.
As the woman raised her head, her gaze met Jung Yeonshin's.
Both were surprised.
Each had been suppressing their energy to the peak of the Return to Origin Realm.
"…First Fist of the Eun Clan."
Jung Yeonshin's lips moved slightly.
A supreme martial artist who had mastered the counter techniques against the Lightning Genius' martial lineage.
The absolute master of the Eun Clan.
Eun Hwaryun, the Fist Grand Duke.
'This is bad.'
The senses of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader sharpened to an edge.
Eun Hwaryun no longer traveled alone.
A peerless grandmaster of mystical martial arts now accompanied her, making them an unbeatable duo. Encountering her here meant death.
At that moment—
"You… bastard."
Suddenly, her brow furrowed deeply, and she shot a terrifying glare at Gui Il-tae.
The grand heir of the Gui Clan, who had been faintly smirking, flinched.
In an instant, an overwhelming surge of energy erupted from Eun Hwaryun.
"Do you even realize who you just dragged in?! You worthless fool! You crazy bastard!"
Uwoong!
The air itself wavered violently.
"Fist Grand Duke!"
As the greatly flustered Gui Il-tae struggled to steady himself, Eun Hwaryun's wine bottle tore through the air toward him.
Crash!
It struck his forehead and shattered upon impact.
The protective energy enveloping his body exploded into uselessness.
The shockwave alone was as powerful as a Thunder Bomb, shaking the pillars of the pavilion.
As Gui Il-tae collapsed limply, Jung Yeonshin gazed at Eun Hwaryun.
"Your martial skills have improved."
He muttered as he stroked the edge of his sword energy. His tone was as if he were looking down from above.
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