The Murim Alliance's Founding Battle Tournant was held with great grandeur.
To secure provisions and rival Ipwang Fortress, prestige was essential—especially during tis of severe famine.
As the world steadily descended into chaos, public sentint and appearances were more critical than ever. The alliance aid to establish its position as the supre federation of the martial world.
The gates were opened.
The Murim Alliance's sheer scale rivaled even Ipwang Fortress. The banner of chivalry it raised was the impression it sought to leave.
Through the Founding Battle Tournant, it created a presence. Experts from the mysterious sects, inheritors of singular martial arts, knocked on the gates, while swordsn from the Mount Hua Sect descended from the mountains.
Renowned masters of prestigious clans also made grand appearances.
A martial artist of the Eon Clan donned leather gauntlets. One by one, prominent experts with star-like reputations revealed themselves.
The alliance had spent significant ti preparing for this mont.
The beggars of the Beggar Sect spread rumors in every marketplace and pasted notices everywhere. People couldn't help but take notice.
It was said to be a stage for the righteous martial artists of the White Path to display their prowess.
Crowds sward in.
The vast lands of Hanzhong had no villages left unvisited. Fires in the roadside inns and taverns lining the streets never went out.
“I’ve been blessed with a feast for my eyes. The Mo Yong Clan’s River-Severing Sword Style truly lives up to its na. I wonder how the Mount Hua Sect's Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Style will asure up. They say it’s the most dazzling sword art under heaven—I’m thrilled just thinking about it. Missing it would’ve been a lifelong regret.”
“I saw nothing myself. Your sect's martial arts must be more impressive than I thought—or is it just boasting?”
“Boasting? How could a low-tier practitioner grasp the vision of a master?”
Laughter and chatter mingled. The wide road leading to the gates was so packed that there was barely room to step.
On days when word spread of a well-known expert stepping into the ring, the streets transford into bustling marketplaces.
Peasants sold flatbread and candy. Even the errand boys from rundown inns ca out to pester passersby.
A sea of people.
It was an apt description of the crowds. Today was no exception.
“I never knew such pavilions existed in this world. Tall, grand, and elegant. It truly felt like another realm. Perhaps the Murim Alliance truly is the best under heaven.”
“The real otherworldly marvel was the Eon Clan’s Heaven-Defying Fist. Is it not a display of shaking heaven and earth with re human strength? I now understand why noble clans act so loftily, like royalty. It’s as if they could singlehandedly defy an army.”
The focused attention was overwhelming. For ordinary people, getting a glimpse of the Murim Alliance’s main hall was a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
Even if they managed to enter, their movents would be heavily restricted, and their identities ticulously verified. Yet enduring such scrutiny was a price worth paying.
Peasants, rchants, minor sect martial artists, and bodyguards protecting traveling goods—
The tide of humanity was even a spectacle for the martial artists of the Murim Alliance themselves.
Opportunities to take in such vast crowds at a glance were rare. Even for the man and woman seated atop the seventh-story pavilion inside the alliance’s main hall.
It was a vantage point that overlooked the grand road leading to the gates.
“The Murim Alliance Leader is definitely not the Sword Saint. The Zhuge Clan Leader is deciding everything.”
The woman sprawled almost lazily against the roof beams said. She was none other than the Lady Ye of the Ye family.
Her eyes were covered with a soft, white cloth, but she glanced downward as if possessing clairvoyant powers.
“Why are there so many of them? They look like cockroaches.”
“In comparison to the noble bloodline, that is so,” replied the middle-aged man dressed neatly in pure white martial robes. He stood upright beneath Lady Ye.
Even as strong winds howled, his posture showed no sign of faltering. The presence of martial discipline was ingrained in him.
“The Zhuge Clan Leader’s dominance was inevitable. Establishing a legitimate federation in their ancestral lands—it’s the price for their years of underground toil. They now stand at the forefront of Murim’s governance.”
“At least the Sword Saint is on my side. That’s a relief.”
Lady Ye spoke as she gently adjusted her long, white blindfold with elegant fingers.
“I wasn’t sure it would work. I never imagined soone like that would fall for it. He has no clue. These so-called supre masters—they’re all eccentric with their own flaws. Even the late Cult Leader was like that. Why do you think that is?”
“There are stages of enlightennt that are achieved only by relinquishing sanity. The absolute masters of this era likely embody such extres. There is a saying that the realm of absolute mastery is one of madness. It was the Commander of the Ipwang Divine Swords who remarked this.”
“Hmm, but the Rogue Hero was slightly different. The thod he used to burn the Cult Leader was sothing even the First Apostle should have witnessed. Perhaps it’s because he’s our Taesa’s grandfather, but he truly recognized and mastered those techniques? I was so envious.”
“Underestimating the Sword Saint is unwise. The mont even a trace of our sect’s martial techniques becos apparent in his conduct, it would spell catastrophe. As your humble servant, I have repeatedly counseled caution, but more vigilance is always required.”
“Is this unreliable?”
Lady Ye brushed her fingers lightly across the edges of her blindfold, causing a glimr to flash in the middle-aged man’s eyes.
“That is undoubtedly a sacred relic of our sect. It is a magical artifact passed down through generations of Cult Leaders, designed to protect the direct lineage from the lowly masses. The noble bloodline has always been a target, even without practicing blood arts.”
“So this really is the object that sustained our lineage?”
“When a noble descendent veils their eyes with it, none can identify them. Within the realm of sorcery, it distorts perception. As long as no blood arts are displayed, the illusion remains intact. Its limitations are minimal, making it truly a divine relic.”
“But didn’t you say not to let my guard down?”
“Even if one’s disposition, voice, and appearance are concealed, behavior is another matter.”
“That’s a line I’ve heard too often. I’m feeling a bit anxious. Our Taesa will be here soon. He is a divine being who has developed purifying techniques using inner strength. What if we’re discovered?”
Her fingers, which had been fidgeting with her blindfold, moved down to toy with the ends of her obsidian-black hair, twisting it slightly.
The middle-aged man, standing with a blank expression as if blind to her actions, responded calmly.
“You have erased all traces of your original habits. You possess qualities surpassing even the previous Cult Leader. With the deepest respect, I advise you to focus solely on your conduct. That is the hardest task of all.”
“Well, fine. Either way, I can’t wait. It’s been ages since I’ve been able to stay this close.”
“…The sacred relic is unparalleled in the world. Treasure it deeply.”
“There’s only one thing precious to .”
Lady Ye’s lips curved into a smooth smile. It was flawless.
***
Jeong Yeon-shin, accompanied by his party, stepped inside the main hall of the Murim Alliance.
The energy exuding from the countless people inside was almost overwhelming, stimulating his Baihui Point relentlessly.
At the sa ti, a subtle sense of incongruity nagged at him.
"Golden silk robes... What an ostentatious outfit for such a young noble."
"Wait a mont. At that age, wearing the Hwang (荒) character and a black longcoat... Could that be none other than the Seomye of Ipwang Fortress, Ma Gwang-ik Lord?"
"What? He’s real?!"
"Stop acting like a bumpkin from Guangdong. You’ll only get on his nerves. Let’s just quietly pass by."
It was different from before. There were no gazes of challenge or hostility mingled with curiosity.
Those unaffiliated with the Murim Alliance stared at Jeong Yeon-shin and his party with interest, while the Alliance’s martial artists deliberately averted their eyes and let them pass.
“They must be aware of their sha. Inviting an envoy and then starting the opening ceremony without them?”
Hуeon Won-chang’s sarcasm was blatant, but no response ca. Gongsun Min and So Geomhwi, walking alongside them, wore awkward expressions, a rare sight.
"Could this be so kind of misunderstanding?"
The young scion of the Gong Sun family spoke. Despite his youth, he was the heir of a great noble family, and his pitch-black eyes sparked with ebony flas—the manifestation of his clan's unique internal power.
He had recently witnessed Ma Gwang-ik Lord resolve a duel with the Sword Sovereign of Hanam Province.
Gongsun Min’s face displayed a mix of sha and inner turmoil.
“For an organization claiming to be righteous, this is shaful. Even if noble clans chase worldly fa, my family would never agree to this. It’s a disgrace to the principles of pure martial arts.”
“Well, reports say Simmuryun has retreated. There must be more than a few beggars of the Beggar Sect roaming Hanzhong. If soone from a noble family had achieved what Lord Jeong has, they would have been out here greeting him ages ago.”
So Geomhwi of the Small Sword Queen raised her drowsy-looking brows with so effort as she spoke. Both she and Gongsun Min glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin, betraying their unease.
This was unlike her usual detached deanor, a sign that the matter was no trivial affair.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave them a calm glance.
“Rest for now.”
It was a brief statent from the Lord of Ma Gwang-ik, the black-clad expert who had resolved the Alliance’s dilemma singlehandedly.
Gongsun Min widened his eyes and murmured sothing unintelligible, thinking he should retrieve his sword from Mo Yong-myeongjun.
The group split up.
Jeong Yeon-shin had no intention of reporting his progress to the Sword Saint. His priority was to check on Namgung Hwa-shin, who had been left behind.
If the Alliance had hastily launched the opening ceremony for the tournant, Namgung Hwa-shin—given his temperant—would not have remained idle.
Among the vast crowd, Jeong Yeon-shin noticed people scattering in all directions. Upon seeing him, they began to move.
It appeared that martial artists from various factions within the Alliance were heading off to report to their superiors.
Thud.
The young Ma Gwang-ik Lord stepped forward slowly.
With every step, the crowd parted. Faces filled with unease and curiosity spread in all directions.
The reaction to the envoy from Ipwang Fortress beca the focus of attention. Would the Founding Battle Tournant end in disaster?
Or would the festival energy that enveloped Hanzhong transform into a declaration of the Murim Alliance's power, spreading across Zhongyuan?
“The Murim Alliance is vast yet insular. What could have happened?”
The boy, flanked by Tae Yeom-ryong and Hуeon Won-chang, walked silently, his thoughts occupied with Namgung Hwa-shin, his most trusted ally and subordinate.
Namgung Hwa-shin would undoubtedly have raised objections.
In martial circles, discussions often led to physical confrontations. The difference between the demonic and righteous factions was rely one of justification.
When disagreents couldn’t be resolved, matters were typically decided by martial prowess. In such a world, the words of a master were law.
If Namgung Hwa-shin’s opposition had been silenced, Jeong Yeon-shin was prepared to use the Alliance's inner halls as a proving ground for his new swordsmanship.
“If they thought a righteous sect would hesitate to draw their swords, they were mistaken.”
Hуeon Won-chang would undoubtedly clarify the justification. The wounds inflicted by the Youngcheon Sword Demon could be settled by seizing the Poppy of the Red Demon.
Srrrk.
Almost unconsciously, Jeong Yeon-shin’s left hand moved to grasp the hilt of his sword, encasing the blade in the aura of the North Star Divine Sword Technique.
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
The martial artists of the Alliance were stunned. Did they think they were about to witness a supre master draw their sword without warning?
At that mont—
Step, step.
A soft and light sound of footsteps echoed. It was unusually distinct.
“Hm?”
The presence approached quickly, their footwork dreamy, as if walking on clouds.
Within a few steps, they were close enough for Jeong Yeon-shin to catch their scent.
The figure wore pure white robes, their wide sleeves flowing. The outfit straddled the line between martial attire and formal robes.
The woman walked directly toward Jeong Yeon-shin. Her eyes were covered with white silk, and a single strand of hair was tied elegantly behind her.
Her appearance was carefully grood, but her confident stride was striking.
Was she blind, or a martial artist training in heightened senses?
“...”
The surroundings fell silent.
Perhaps it was her status. Or perhaps her appearance.
Sunlight filtering through the leaves cast dappled light on her elegant features, highlighting her fine nose and porcelain-white skin, which glead with a smooth radiance.
Her hair swayed delicately as she moved, exuding an air of mystery.
“She’s training both her ntal technique and movent skill. Her perception is extraordinary.”
From the faintness of her breath and her movents, Jeong Yeon-shin could sense her energy.
Even the positioning of her big toe on her soft pink shoes subtly followed the principles of the Eight Trigrams.
Her lively steps seed to ripple with faint energy.
It was as if the autumn breeze touched her alone, rendering her uniquely transparent. Her every movent carried an innate elegance.
She breathed as though embodying martial arts itself.
If one were to define beauty in the martial world, it might take this form.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a strange sensation in his heart. The movent of the Radiant Wheel Technique was unmistakable.
For a brief mont, there was a pulse—sowhere between resistance and resonance. A portion of the energy within the Radiant Wheel Technique had stirred.
Why, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was due to the unique aura the woman carried.
“What is this?”
As Jeong Yeon-shin pondered, the woman approached and spoke.
Her deanor suggested she paid no heed to the martial artists surrounding them.
“It doesn’t have to be now. That’s the Sword Saint’s ssage.”
“What?”
“Oh, can I speak casually? I know you’re the Lord of Ipwang Fortress. But I’m an envoy, representing the great rchants. Let’s drop the formalities. I even speak casually with the Supre Commander.”
“State your na and status.”
The young Ma Gwang-ik Lord replied tersely.
At that mont, Jeong Yeon-shin felt a peculiar sensation of eye contact, though no malice touched his Danjeon energy sense.
The feeling was akin to the night sky gazing upon him. A brief silence followed.
Then, the woman, now standing right before him, let a faint smile erge—a bewitching expression.
“This is a secret, but since the great Lord of Ma Gwang-ik asked, I’ll tell you.”
She extended her elegant fingers, her crimson lips moving softly.
“Ye Clan Sword Sect, Ye rchant Guild.”
Her pale fingertips rested on Jeong Yeon-shin’s clenched hand, which gripped the hilt of his sword. A faint, unfamiliar fragrance spread.
She gently layered her hand atop the stance of the Ma Gwang-ik Lord’s sword-drawing technique, then bowed her head slightly.
A soft exhale scattered near the boy’s collarbone.
“My na is Ye Harin,” she whispered.
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