"Hah...."
The disciple of the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader could not move. He only let out a suppressed groan.
His arm, pinned beneath the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, remained outstretched like a support. He made no effort to shake off the unprecedentedly weakened Jung Yeonshin.
Even though Gi Do-hyu's Sight Arts had thoroughly examined the current state of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's body, it remained the same.
Jung Yeonshin's energy waves were undoubtedly murky and unstable.
Internal injuries verging on Energy Deviation, external wounds that had left his upper body drenched in blood. He had just endured consecutive battles against supreme masters.
How could he possibly handle Gi Do-hyu, who had ascended leisurely with his master? Even though the disciple of the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader was skilled enough to execute Grass Flutter with natural ease.
And yet, the blades of grass beneath Gi Do-hyu's feet remained upright. It was an uncanny sight.
"Stay still."
Jung Yeonshin spoke, standing with both feet together.
The second teaching of the Desolate Fortress' Lord. The Illusory Sword Step she had imparted disturbed the opponent's energy sense.
Jung Yeonshin synchronized his energy waves with the power fluctuations emitted by Gi Do-hyu.
He recalled the Peking Opera troupe that had once visited his hometown in Xinye County. Strangely, it came to mind as he faced the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader.
Chasing after the village children who had abandoned him, he had once watched from afar as puppets moved, bound by countless threads.
A mere plaything, yet mesmerizing.
'Even I have hidden profundities within me.'
A martial artist's strength is always intertwined with their life.
Jung Yeonshin wove his energy waves through Gi Do-hyu's like delicate threads, teasing them with the imagery from his childhood.
He intricately manipulated the feeble remnants of Radiant Wheel as if spinning a skein of silk, stripping away Gi Do-hyu's internal awareness.
A master's energy sense is connected to their five senses. The deeper their mastery of internal arts, the faster they react to attacks from behind.
If their energy sense is disrupted, their perception is thrown into disarray. Such was the profundity of the Illusory Sword Step.
"A Heart Sword technique...?"
Gi Do-hyu's once-relaxed expression darkened with despair. There were two reasons why he could not properly respond.
The moment he tried to retract his arm, he instinctively sensed that another joint might be forced to move, and the realization that the weakened stances of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader could very well crush his skull.
A squad leader under the Divine Sword Order would typically possess various countermeasures.
Jung Yeonshin pressed down on the danger with an aura befitting the darkness of Desolate Fortress. The stance of an absolute master.
While effortlessly scattering Gi Do-hyu's energy sense, he kept his eyes on the battle between the Mount Hua Sect's leader and the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader.
The sword paths encircling them had entangled into hundreds of interwoven threads.
To the naked eye, it looked like a storm of tangled silk. In this duel to determine the strongest in Shaanxi, a murderous aura swirled furiously.
Zzeojeojeong—!
The sunlight distorted along the sword trajectories of the two supreme masters.
The successive Swift Sword strikes trailed behind explosively, their sheer force delayed in perception.
Even with the Heaven-Piercing Technique activated, it was difficult to track their movements.
Only because there was something familiar in the way Yulha Nangnang moved did he barely manage to follow. In the way her sword path swayed like delicate flower branches, he detected traces of the Comprehensive Overview of Demonic Factions' Annihilation.
'She's pushing him back.'
For those supreme masters, time moved differently. Hundreds of exchanges had already passed in an instant.
Though the difference was minuscule, Yulha Nangnang's sword seemed to reach its peak just a fraction sooner.
Perhaps he had been of some help. The sword intent recorded in the Comprehensive Overview of Demonic Factions' Annihilation seemed to have infused itself into her counterattacks against the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader.
In a single sect, dozens of martial techniques naturally diverge and evolve. It was a fortunate circumstance.
"You... do not know the Leader..."
A voice trembled at his feet. Jung Yeonshin did not lower his gaze.
"Lightning Genius, someone like you, a prodigy beyond compare, could never understand..."
At that moment.
The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader's sword technique changed. Colorless flames surged around his massive blade, forming dozens of phantom swords that instantly merged into his weapon.
It was as if a blade from an entirely different realm had been forged.
Hwaaaah—!
An overwhelming pressure crushed against his skin.
Gi Do-hyu moved in that instant as well. With an expression filled with murderous intent, he lashed out with his free hand.
By then, Jung Yeonshin had already concentrated Radiant Wheel energy into his right foot.
Suppressing the sharp pain that felt as though his meridians were being sliced open, he detonated his energy through the Yongcheon Acupoint at the sole of his foot.
Kwachik!
A jarring, solid impact registered at the tip of his foot. It felt as though he had trampled something unyielding, reducing it to fragments beneath his weight.
By the time Jung Yeonshin crushed Gi Do-hyu's skull and landed, he saw Yulha Nangnang falling backward.
Blood sprayed into the air. A deep diagonal wound had split her abdomen. The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader, having delivered the final blow, glared with luminous eyes.
Kwoaaaah—!
A terrifying force writhed around him, encompassing his surroundings. The presence of an absolute master.
Over Yulha Nangnang's shoulder, his gaze locked onto Jung Yeonshin. The space between them trembled under the weight of his aura.
The undisputed strongest in Shaanxi.
Their eyes met.
The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader's black gaze did not waver, even after losing his disciple. It was a peace bordering on madness.
"I've heard that some can easily create forbidden martial techniques."
His deep voice resounded.
"I cannot, so I forge them with difficulty, one at a time. Desolation-Cleaving Three Forms. That was but the first."
"..."
"I did not kill her. In Shaanxi, the only one worthy of challenging me is the Starlight Sword Deity."
Jung Yeonshin remained silent. He focused on stopping Yulha Nangnang's bleeding, pressing acupoints along her abdomen.
Even as he did, he kept his eyes on the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader. Radiant Demon Squad's leader's pupils flickered with electric-blue lightning.
The man who loomed over him spoke once more.
"You, the brat who exchanged much with me."
Step.
He turned away.
"I await the day you become a Divine Sword."
* * *
Many who had survived the battlefield at Yeoryeong's domain had emerged alive. The high-ranking martial artists of Shaanxi's Thirteen Celestial Demons, warriors of Suwang Sect, and even Murim masters from righteous sects who had been in the outskirts at the time.
Few spoke of the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu.
Most did not follow the Radiant Demon Squad's leader up Seven Maidens Peak or descend the mountain directly.
Those who had been present had their own motives and remained silent about their gains. The spectacle displayed by the Radiant Demon Squad's leader lingered in their minds as an unforgettable shock, spreading rapidly by word of mouth.
It reached the very base of the mountain in no time.
—Yeoryeong's young lord has lost the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu!
Winged creatures and messenger birds took flight. Feathers brushed against skeletal branches as they scattered toward the vast slopes below.
The moment the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Formation dissipated, the ridges of the mountain were swarming with people.
Rumors of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader spread.
It was inevitable.
Those who had been unable to enter due to the formation now ascended the mountain.
Wandering warriors, elite martial artists from renowned clans, merchants escorted by bodyguards—all of them left countless footprints on the snow-covered paths with their light movement techniques.
The sound of trampled underbrush rang through the air. They leaped over corpses with clear bite marks on their necks, ignoring the heaps of blood-demon corpses whose cause of death was difficult to discern.
Some were those who had originally wandered Mount Taebaek. Others had only just arrived.
Many had already found someone, while others were still searching.
A vast movement of martial artists skilled in herb gathering was converging toward a specific point on the ridge. The Heaven Spanning Net had formed naturally.
At its center—
"Leader, you must not lose consciousness."
A low voice escaped with white breath into the cold air.
Step.
Jung Yeonshin walked through the snow-clad trees, carrying Yulha Nangnang on his back.
His long coat brushed against the ground, the sensation uncharacteristically vivid.
Each step felt heavier than the last. His energy perception was no longer as expansive as before.
From Ghost Spirit Sword and Shaanxi's Number One Demon to the Yeoryeong Sect's joint assault at Mount Taebaek, the accumulated internal and external injuries were now chipping away at his body, despite its refinement through Jung Clan Movement Arts.
Even his Transcending Law Radiant Wheel refused to move as intended, lingering weakly through his meridians like a faint heat haze.
Then there were the voices that grated on his nerves.
"The blood demons have been annihilated. A blood-soaked woman was seen staggering away before vanishing."
"Some suspect it was internal conflict. Those with keen Sight Arts said as much."
"That's the Starlight Sword Deity, no doubt! A golden opportunity...!"
"Yeoryeong's young lord and chief protector are dead. Wave King was found as a corpse. Suwang Sect has lost its leader..."
"It makes sense he'd be exhausted. No, the fact that he's still standing is a miracle. How did he defeat them all? It's beyond belief."
"Look at his gait. Does he even have any strength left?"
A massive encirclement moved down the slope alongside Jung Yeonshin. Some whispered, while others didn't even bother lowering their voices.
With the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Formation undone, the mountain ridge was now wide open.
At first, they gathered in hiding, one by one. But by the time the sound of whistling arrows and the flapping of mystical creatures' wings filled the air, hundreds had surrounded Jung Yeonshin.
To those ignorant fools, Radiant Demon Squad's leader, drained of energy, was a tempting prey.
He carried not only the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu but also Mount Hua's Sect leader upon his back. He was practically a divine creature that could bestow both elixirs and glory.
Even those well-versed in worldly matters weren't much different.
This was a world where martial artists with grudges against the Imperial Divine Sword were commonplace. Where else could they find the black rank of Desolate Fortress' severed head? The looming vengeance of Desolate Fortress was worth pushing aside for this prize.
They were a pack of jackals.
Weapons clattered and jingled.
The sound of boots pressing into the snow came in various forms, some were careless, others cautious, some restless and impatient, and some refined like well-honed blades. Together, they formed a massive circle as they descended.
Jung Yeonshin stood at its center, trapped.
He quietly adjusted Yulha Nangnang on his back and stepped forward without a word.
Saaaah—
A sudden winter wind swept across the nape of his neck, pushing aside strands of hair. His breath, thick with warmth, trailed along his jawline before dissipating behind him.
At the same moment, a faint breath brushed against the nape of his neck. A distinctive metallic scent, typical of those suffering from severe internal injuries, reached his nose.
"Radiant… Squad, Leader…."
It was Yulha Nangnang, slung over his back. Jung Yeonshin calmly parted his lips.
"Sect Leader."
"Leave me behind."
"The Demonic Faction is everywhere. Many of them have lost their senses, they will surely harm you. Leaving the 'He Shou Wu' behind will be no different."
"Your nature… and talent are wasted here. You must not meet your end in a place like this. You could still escape alone."
The broken cadence of her voice carried a stubborn resolve.
The way she spoke, attempting to elicit resignation, reminded him of his grandfather. Perhaps supreme masters all possessed an unyielding nature.
The current Radiant Demon Squad's leader had once made a vow. That he would not become like his grandfather.
"I will handle it as I see fit."
"..."
Jung Yeonshin exhaled, sharpening every sense in his body. As the brown pine needles brushed across his face, he felt an imperceptible shift in the air beneath them.
A concealed ripple of energy flowed within the currents of air. The killing intent surrounding them thickened by the moment.
"If I make the first move, I'll die, won't I?"
"He may look like that, but he is still the Radiant Demon Squad's leader. A single strike is more than enough to end the likes of you."
"Shall we test it? Just a little longer."
"If you're going to act, you need to block the path down the mountain first. Those who claim to be from the righteous sects have no sense of shame. They often try to claim merit by attaching themselves to the imperial sword of the family."
"We should strike before his achievements spread too widely? Hmm… It does make sense. How many supreme masters of the Demonic Faction has he already slain…."
It was the conversation of aristocrats, clad in sleek martial robes lined with fur.
It came from above. The men wearing ghost masks, walking on tree branches as if they were celestial beings, were tailing Jung Yeonshin. They addressed each other as Golden Hero and Golden Fist.
It seemed the leaders of a major trading group were using aliases.
Even the attire of the dozen martial escorts trailing them exuded opulence.
"All sorts are gathering here. Whether rabble or masters."
"We must be around two hundred and fifty now. It's getting harder to count."
"I'm getting anxious. That's supposed to be my accomplishment. If I take the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu, I might surpass my sister in the succession race."
"A lone boy has drawn all the lawless fighters of Shaanxi."
"Golden Fist, does that look like a boy to you?"
"Hm?"
"You're too careless. That one wears the black of Desolate Fortress. Do not think of him as a human."
"Ah, now that you say it, it's hard to argue."
"We will act last. Let's aim for the fisherman's gain. The ignorant mongrels will wear down the Radiant Demon Squad's leader first."
It was the moment Golden Hero's smooth jawline froze mid-motion.
Swaak—!
As Jung Yeonshin descended the slope, one of his shoulders was violently wrenched back.
Blood spurted into the air like a blade. He gritted his teeth, enduring the fresh wave of searing pain.
"...!"
The moment he was struck, the warriors forming the Heaven-Spanning Net fell silent.
The realization swept over them like a vortex, the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's condition was truly dire.
A swordsman at the front, who had raised his blade, curled his lips into a smirk.
Even he looked as if he couldn't quite believe it himself.
"Did you see…? The great squad leader of Desolate Fortress, to my sword wind, he—urk…!"
At that moment, a snowball, kicked by Jung Yeonshin, shattered the man's eye.
With a dull thud, infused with a trace of Radiant Wheel energy, it exploded, but the sound did little to stir those around him.
Jung Yeonshin's gaze narrowed.
'They could clearly see my counterattack. And the fact that I allowed a strike to land is an issue.'
The heat within the Heaven-Spanning Net only grew thicker. Even after the swordsman's corpse toppled backward.
The jackals had now completely discerned the tiger's condition. More warriors flooded in from below.
"It's true! He's there!"
"The He Shou Wu! The Thousand-Year He Shou Wu is in his possession!"
"The woman slung over his back—her robe, isn't that from Mount Hua Sect? Could it be…?"
"What does the identity of that Taoist matter when we're here to take down the Radiant Demon Squad's leader? With those two heads, we could join the Thirteen Celestial Demons!"
The encirclement continued to tighten. The barrier of warriors, now thicker than ever, emanated a fierce energy presence.
The surging battle spirit and killing intent, carried upon the wind, were enough to make the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's robes billow.
"Golden Hero, when should we strike?"
"Let's wait a little longer. It's about to explode."
Amidst the murmured discussions, a mixture of ease and excitement lingered.
All around, those who had gathered to challenge him had begun shifting their attention, not to Jung Yeonshin, but to the others in the crowd.
This was the raw, unfiltered Murim.
Jung Yeonshin, carrying the Mount Hua Sect's Leader on his back, moved forward in silence.
She spoke.
"Bin Do insists on descending the mountain…."
"You are not the Fortress Lord."
He gave a short reply, already preparing for the inevitable clash. Lowering his head slightly, he sharpened his energy sense for close combat.
Crunch, crunch.
One should never cast aside those who have shown goodwill. Yulha Nangnang's identity had nothing to do with it.
In the place where his mother had settled, he had learned the value of kindness. And so, he would protect it.
This was the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's form of chivalry. With every step forward, the white footprints trailing behind him grew deeper.
Seventeen steps later.
'Hm?'
Jung Yeonshin suddenly lifted his head. The reason was simple, the world had fallen silent.
A chill, colder than the winter wind, settled over the area. The once-raucous warriors had all fallen into rigid silence.
Only the faint sound of pine needles rolling over the snow could be heard.
As he surveyed his surroundings, the cause of this eerie stillness became clear.
"..."
Twenty figures had encircled the three hundred warriors of the Heaven-Spanning Net.
A black-haired beauty, standing upright with her sword planted into the ground. A nobleman chewing on a blood-red poppy with furrowed brows. A young man with the air of a heroic swordsman, scanning the crowd with barely restrained fury. A woman of aristocratic lineage, standing atop an inverted branch, holding a bow at the ready.
Each held their own stance.
Their robes, as if dipped in the sky itself, fluttered in the wind, a brilliant shade of blue.
Emblazoned on each of their shoulders was the character 'Desolate', standing out in silent prominence.
The young swordsman in the hero's attire spoke.
"There is little to be said. You all should turn back now."
"No."
A voice echoed from high above.
It came from the branches above the noblemen in ghost masks. A one-eyed young noble, wrapped in a dark hood, shook his head.
As he ran a hand along the blade at his side, his expression remained unreadable beneath his naturally graceful features.
"Kill them all."
Kwachik!
Below him, the abdomen of a bandit stiffened, impaled by a jet-black sword light.
It was the blade of Baek Miryeo, her unnaturally dark hair cascading down her shoulders. Encased in a thick shroud of demonic energy.
"Leader, it's time to return."
White veins bulged along the back of her hand gripping the sword. And then, without hesitation.
She twisted her waist, splitting the bandit's torso upward in a single, clean motion.
Crack—!
With a sickening snap, his ribs shattered in unison, sending a torrent of blood into the air.
A move that froze time itself.
[T/L: Please support me AND read further chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans.]
[T/L: Subscribe for a membership on my Buy Me a Coffee page and receive 15 extra chapters upon joining, along with daily updates of one chapter: buymeacoffee.com/revengerscans ]
[Additional Info: If anyone is facing the issue of payment on Ko-Fi, please contact me on revengerscans1@gmail.com]