“Is that a human hand? Could it be… Ma Gwang-ik Lord?”
Zhuge Hyeon, the leader of the Hyuncheon Unit, raised his eyebrows.
Deep lines etched across his forehead betrayed his astonishnt as he stared at the hand piercing through the curtain.
Sleek.
The hand that had penetrated the curtain possessed fingers that were both smooth and sturdy, radiating a tangible sense of strength.
It wasn’t rely a piece of silk that had been pierced.
Wooong.
The go stones scattered around the room trembled slightly.
The vibrations ca from a dozen white and black stones that had activated the Whirling Wind Barrier Formation. This formation, established during the construction of the Martial Alliance headquarters, had been carefully calibrated.
This formation was a masterpiece of engineering and mysticism, embedded into every material of the room—from the rafters and beams to the columns, eaves, and foundation stones—imbued with intricate energy derived from geomantic and philosophical studies.
This wasn’t sothing that should have been so easily disrupted.
“What in the…!”
Techniques like this, crafted through mysticism, were difficult to define with a few words. Unlike martial arts, they lacked a standardized structure of principles.
Their only commonality was their manipulation of the universe's fundantal truths, a study that bordered on the divine.
For soone without training in the mystical arts to even approach this domain was unheard of, especially for martial artists who cultivated deep but straightforward internal energy.
To breach the formation with raw force would require extraordinary strength. Even a sect master of one of the Nine Great Sects might struggle to withstand its effects.
“Unbelievable.”
For soone to shatter it with a single strike ant they had entered the realm of prodigious supernatural mastery—an area reserved for legends.
It evoked mories of the great masters who had left indelible marks on martial history, such as:
Zhang Sanfeng, the Taoist master who reached the pinnacle of mystical arts.
Bodhidharma, the Buddhist patriarch who infused his martial techniques with the essence of Buddhist law.
Wooong!
A divine resonance emanated from the hand, unseen ripples enveloping the room in a palpable aura.
Zhuge Hyeon imdiately realized that the formation was unraveling, as though it had never existed. The trendous resources and effort invested in the setup were undone in monts.
“This isn’t ordinary internal energy! Could it be Taoist… or perhaps Buddhist…?”
It was all over in an instant.
The power that flowed from the hand was pure, refined, and overwhelming. Such pristine energy was rare in the world.
Had the intruder used martial force, it would have been easier to counter.
“This is…” Zhuge Hyeon’s words trailed off as he stared in disbelief.
The voice that responded was calm yet laced with cold authority.
“I was told to enter, so I did.”
The hand waved, pulling aside the green silk curtain.
As the curtain fluttered down, the black-robed figure of Jeong Yeon-shin, Ma Gwang-ik Lord, ca into view.
Still wearing the black leather boots that had briefly shown beneath the curtain, the boy casually stepped into the room, exuding an aura of mysterious dignity.
“I trust I haven’t breached any etiquette. All I did was remove an obstruction,” the boy said, his face betraying no emotion.
For soone so young, his indifferent deanor seed extraordinary. Then again, given his position and martial prowess, every gesture carried weight, making it difficult to decipher his mood.
“That’s unmistakably the black uniform of Ipwang Fortress.” Zhuge Hyeon thought.
Despite his age, Jeong Yeon-shin’s abilities matched his attire, signaling his status as a prodigy.
A boy who had torn apart a mystical formation with one move stood before him, radiating pressure that far exceeded the realm of typical young talents.
To most martial artists, he might not even appear human.
“…I welco the Ma Gwang-ik Lord’s visit. I am Zhuge Hyeon, acting Grand Marshal of the Martial Alliance,” Zhuge Hyeon said, struggling to maintain a calm expression.
Pretending that nothing had happened was his only option.
His earlier attempt to provoke Jeong Yeon-shin had backfired spectacularly. He had not anticipated the boy’s ability to destroy mystical barriers.
He had planned to dismantle the formation himself after testing the boy’s temperant with a bit of provocation, but the young lord had outmaneuvered him.
“Is this how your Alliance greets an envoy?” Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice was cold and direct.
“…You must be speaking in jest. Perhaps the fatigue of your journey has clouded your judgnt. Would it not be better to rest for now? I’ll ensure you’re provided with suitable accommodations,” Zhuge Hyeon replied diplomatically.
“I am Jeong Yeon-shin, Ma Gwang-ik Lord. Show the respect befitting my position,” Jeong Yeon-shin declared, leaving no room for further excuses.
As he advanced toward Zhuge Hyeon, the swish of his long black robe sounded unnervingly crisp, as if the night sky itself had descended into the room.
His aura was sharp and uncompromising, his every step brimming with authority.
“This wasn’t a decision made by one person alone, was it? After all, this is a reception for an envoy,” Jeong Yeon-shin said, his tone icy.
“Apologize to , on behalf of the Martial Alliance.”
He frad the incident as a matter between the two factions, not a personal slight. His words were as precise and unyielding as a blade.
Behind him, Hyeon Won-chang, the White-Ranked Warrior of Ipwang Fortress, clicked his tongue.
“There he goes. Our lord has descended from his mountain.”
“….”
Zhuge Hyeon fell silent. He now understood why this boy had been elevated to the position of Lord.
It wasn’t just his martial prowess. He was articulate, decisive, and unrelenting, much like a predator that clamped its jaws around its prey and refused to let go.
The very formation Zhuge Hyeon had used to provoke him had beco a liability.
Zhuge Hyeon thought, “What if this disgrace doesn’t remain a personal matter?”
He hadn’t beco the leader of the Hyuncheon Unit by sheer martial strength. His mastery of formations, broad perspective, and respectable martial arts had earned him the Zhuge family’s trust.
Should he call reinforcents? How many n and how much ti would it take to subdue the Ma Gwang-ik Lord?
Even if they succeeded, the resulting chaos would be catastrophic. The story of the Martial Alliance targeting an envoy would spread uncontrollably.
“No. A hardline response would be disastrous. The risks outweigh the benefits.”
Slowly, Zhuge Hyeon raised his trembling hand to his chest and bowed.
“…I apologize for the disrespect shown to the Ma Gwang-ik Lord. On behalf of the White Path Martial Alliance, I sincerely offer my regrets.”
It was an apology Zhuge Hyeon had never uttered, save perhaps to his family head.
A faint smirk curled Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips.
“I’ll take sothing as proof. Deny this ever happened, and there will be consequences,” he said.
Raising his left hand, the sleeve of his wide robe slid down, revealing a well-trained arm. A storm of energy erupted from his palm.
Kwaaaa—!
An imnse suction force filled the room.
The ceiling of Zhuge Hyeon’s office was ripped away entirely, chunks of wood and dust scattering everywhere.
Amid the chaos, Jeong Yeon-shin caught a splinter of the shattered beam, holding it up for inspection.
“As decreed by the law. This was part of the formation, wasn’t it?” Jeong Yeon-shin murmured, reading the characters engraved into the wood.
The phrase reminded him of the formations used by the Bloodfla Cult.
“Quite powerful. Was this inscribed by the Zhuge Family Head?”
“Do not speak of the family head so lightly,” Zhuge Hyeon snapped, his expression turning fierce.
“Oh?”
“The family head surpasses you in rank and status.”
“I was taught by the Lord of Ipwang Fortress,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied coolly.
“….”
Few dared discuss lineage and hierarchy in the presence of the Ipwang Lord. Zhuge Hyeon’s lips tightened, and even the martial artists who had stord into the office froze.
Hyeon Won-chang smirked, echoing words Jeong Yeon-shin had once said to Tae Yeom-ryong.
“Behave yourself.”
The young Ma Gwang-ik Lord patted Hyeon Won-chang on the shoulder and turned to leave.
Despite the commotion, only the furnishings had been damaged. Zhuge Hyeon himself remained unscathed.
As the Martial Alliance’s guards stepped aside, Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice rang out one last ti.
“Let’s et again. I’m sure the servants will guide to my quarters.”
***
The relationship between Ipwang Fortress and the secular orthodox martial sects was far from straightforward—particularly before the formation of the Martial Alliance.
For years, the orthodox sects, collectively known as the White Path (Baekdo), refrained from openly antagonizing Ipwang Fortress.
After all, Ipwang Fortress was the most active force in protecting the livelihoods of the people.
Though they might criticize the Fortress' thods behind closed doors, they would never dare to condemn it publicly.
As long as the ideals of the orthodox martial world were tied to righteousness and heroism, they had little choice.
Yet, they also maintained their distance.
This separation was due to Ipwang Fortress' uncompromising conduct.
It did not cater to the circumstances of the martial artists. It acted with complete independence, exposing the hypocrisy of its so-called righteous peers, and did not hesitate to draw its blade—even leading to the eradication of entire clans.
Orthodox sects, at least in na, pursued both righteousness and justice.
The terms "righteous path," "White Path," and "orthodox" referred to martial arts factions that sought renown through upright ideals.
However, in truth, the "heroism" of the martial world had little in common with justice.
The differences were stark.
When viewed through the lens of Confucian teachings, the martial world's beliefs often seed bizarre.
"For instance," Tae Yeom-ryong said, casually tapping the table with his large hand. Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin sat with him, listening intently.
"If a family commits a grave cri and is subsequently wiped out… a third party connected to that family might stand with them in battle and die alongside them.
In such cases, the one who perishes is called a hero (hyeopsa)—because they upheld loyalty and belief until the bitter end.
That’s the reality of our martial world.”
“I thought I understood the martial world,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied.
Tae Yeom-ryong chuckled lazily.
"The world of gallant fighters is, at its core, crude and foolish. That’s why they can never be close to Ipwang Fortress—because they must uphold their version of heroism."
Their assigned residence, Unhyangwon ("Fragrant lody Courtyard"), lived up to its na.
It exuded a remarkable sense of elegance.
Simply opening the door revealed an upper-level pavilion that ford the entrance—creating a two-story gateway.
The centerpiece of the courtyard was a stunning miniature mountain sculpted from stone, perched delicately above the pond in the garden.
It was undoubtedly a place fit for honored guests.
Yet, one detail made its location peculiar.
“So,” Jeong Yeon-shin asked, breaking the montary silence, “does this an we can expect trouble soon?”
Tae Yeom-ryong tilted his head toward his shoulder and responded, “That’s one way of putting it.
Can’t you hear it?
The endless chatter, the thunderous footsteps reverberating all around us?
Of course, it’s to be expected. We’re staying in a house built in the very heart of the Alliance’s headquarters.”
He leaned back, his expression a mixture of fatigue and amusent.
“I hear there are over a hundred martial sects united under the Alliance. Even if their intentions aren’t crystal clear, doesn’t this arrangent feel like a blatant sche?”
“I see your point,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied simply.
Tae Yeom-ryong raised an eyebrow at his companion's reaction.
“…But why are you smiling? I’d rather not die an untily death, you know.”
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