Ak Su-rim smiled brightly.
"I'm going to cut off the head of the Zhuge Clan Leader."
The gray stone walls of Wonpyeong Ilgeomjang trembled with an eerie echo.
Her cheerful voice carried the weight of thunder. A supre master known as the Reborn Hidden Dragon. He had been exiled, but he was still one of the Eight Clan Leaders.
As an absolute force of the martial world, his na had resounded for decades.
Jeong Yeon-shin asked, almost reflexively.
"The Zhuge Clan Leader?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Seems like he's trying to establish a new sect. Quite the heresy. And far too discreet about it." She tilted her head slightly. "You've heard the rumors that Yeoryeong is trying to unify the Thirteen Heavens, haven't you? Looks like the Zhuge Clan Leader has one foot in that ss. A massive threat."
"How did you find out?"
"White-level intelligence from the Myeongryu Corps. They’re from a ruined noble house, so they've seen the highs and lows of the world." She tapped her temple. "There are no major sects worth keeping an eye on in Shanxi, so we had a lone agent stationed there under an assud identity."
"Assud identity?"
"A tutor from the Gongya Family. Currently teaching their eldest daughter as a part of a secondary objective."
"Gongya… There's one in Ma Gwang-ik too."
"You an Gongya Mi-ryeong of the Deep Chivalrous Fist? Yeah, I know. They're sixth cousins. Not particularly relevant. The martial world is big enough to make you cough up blood, yet still small in strange ways. Even more so among the upper class."
Ak Su-rim shook her head and continued.
"If you win at the Shanxi Martial Arts Tournant, you get recognized as a joint successor of both the Zhuge Clan Leader and the First Fist of the Eon Clan."
Jeong Yeon-shin frowned. "That's not sothing just anyone can claim."
"Exactly. The rumors are only circulating among a select few local landowners. But the Total Command Bureau has already cross-verified it through several sources. They say it's pretty reliable."
"I thought the intelligence network in Bonseong had fallen behind significantly."
"The Zhuge Clan Leader recently surfaced in Shanxi for a brief mont. We don’t know what he's scheming yet, but..."
Ak Su-rim stretched, letting out a low groan before flashing a crooked grin.
"This ti, I'm coming along too. It's about ti I reminded the world that Bonseong is still very much alive."
"Is there sothing you need to accomplish?"
"No, no!" She waved a slender hand dismissively. "It's just that every now and then, so fools forget Bonseong's strength and start running their mouths. Besides, the bastard did try to kill you, so we have all the justification we need. Honestly, I would've preferred to let the Martial Alliance deal with him."
She made a flicking motion with her wrist, as if shooing away a fly.
"In any case, get ready. Shanxi is quite a ways from here. Though, if you're traveling with , you won't be bored."
"Just the two of us?"
"Jin Ga-ae, the Blood Protection Division Lord, will be coming too. No telling what variables might co up. It's... an odd place. And the Zhuge Clan Leader makes uneasy."
"Senior Shinhyeolgeukma... That is reassuring."
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded placidly, lost in thought.
He couldn't shake his concern for Zhuge Cheong-ah.
She had been in Shaanxi all this ti as an external martial guest of Ma Gwang-ik.
Would it be right to cut off her father’s head?
He was one of the ones who ousted the Zhuge Clan Leader alongside Seonryong...
He would have to talk to her.
***
The Yellow Plains
The barren land stretched endlessly, a wasteland where dust storms swept in fits and bursts.
The winter sun shone bright and cold, casting its indifferent light across the desolation.
Yet the emptiness of the wilds remained undisturbed, save for the faint echoes of clashing swords piercing the silence.
Clang! Thud!
The wind whipped violently against the colorful martial robes swirling in the fray, dozens of sword gleams flashing from every direction.
At the heart of the storm was a scholar, clad in pristine white, encircled by four opponents.
Each ti the encirclent seed ready to break, arrows would whistle through the air, locking down his movent.
"Ugh!"
A man, dressed in refined silk robes, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the battle unfold.
The golden embroidery on his ochre robes glead under the waning light, his sleek cuffs fluttering in the shockwaves of combat.
He observed from beneath a canopy, a deliberate display of leisure, while twenty armored guards flanked him.
A grand rchant’s attire.
His sharp features and luxurious garb exuded nobility, from the slender contours of his face to the golden threadwork woven into his coat.
"The warriors of Ipwang Fortress truly are the hounds of the martial world. Look at him—holding his own against my experts, all while dressed as a re scholar."
He chuckled softly.
A servant beside him bowed his head.
"He won’t last much longer, sir. If you so much as lift a finger, his head will roll."
The rchant smirked.
He was right.
In tis of turmoil, wealthy rchants held both power and martial prowess. A re flick of their fingers could command dozens of blades, each one deadly in its own right.
It was a ti of famine and strife. Warriors of formidable skill had no choice but to gather under those who could provide them with extravagant feasts and lavish lodgings.
The rchant spoke with idle amusent.
"This too is entertainnt. Where else would I find the pleasure of watching the royal hounds of Ipwang Fortress perform their tricks?" He scoffed. "Ipwang warriors are a rare and valuable commodity. Even in the black markets of underground fighting pits, they’re hard to co by."
"My apologies if I interrupted your enjoynt, sir."
The servant bowed again. The rchant’s lips curled slightly.
"Now then, can any of you guess where this scholar's swordsmanship originates from?"
It was a ga to them.
They relished in capturing esteed martial artists and reducing them to re playthings.
Among those who wielded transcendent power, few dared defy the Great Ming Code or challenge Ipwang Fortress outright.
In an era where grandmasters road freely and the strong ruled over the weak, those who had amassed unparalleled might wished only to sit above all others.
Two swordsn stepped forward.
"His scholar’s disguise made think he was using Suncheon Ik's White Wall Radiant Sword Form. But the traces of his movents are too small for that. He favors precision over brute force."
"His wild swings are erratic, aren’t they? Could be Ma Gwang-ik's Ma Gwang-gyeol. That one’s all about instinct-driven combat."
The rchant did not answer.
He rely crossed his arms and continued watching the struggle unfold.
To those who sought power, the Shin Geom Division of Ipwang Fortress was an object of both admiration and loathing.
In regions where martial sects ran rampant, people sought the imperial sword’s protection.
But in places like Shanxi, where no great sects held sway, they were resented.
This was local martial law.
A land where self-governance reigned supre.
For generations, Shanxi had been a stronghold of state officials and military power. Here, an Ipwang warrior was afforded more respect than any bureaucrat.
Those with power—local magnates and rchant lords alike—had learned to bow their heads before them.
But now, a hidden dragon had extended his hand.
He sought to reshape the order of the land.
The Reborn Hidden Dragon, Zhuge Clan Leader.
The rchant had eagerly clasped his offered hand.
And he was not the only one.
For so ti now, the vast lands of Shanxi had been silently answering his call.
They were ready.
They had poured silver into bribing officials, recruited only the most promising martial talents, and ticulously filtered out any foreign eyes.
And fortune had smiled upon them.
He had been enjoying a leisurely tour of the mountain peaks with his subordinates when he witnessed a peculiar sight.
A well-regarded scholar stood at the foot of the mountain, releasing two homing pigeons into the sky.
The man was a guest residing with the Gongya Family, a learned individual without deep ties in the region, currently serving as the eldest daughter’s tutor.
His scholarly credentials had been officially recognized by the county magistrate, who had vouched for him as a retired academic. Word was that he had passed the imperial exam and held the rank of Jinsa.
It was an era where those with power could do whatever they pleased.
—A man with no connections… I had my eye on him as well.
The rchant, having taken a stroll outside, casually ordered one of his subordinates to shoot down one of the pigeons with an arrow.
It was pure fortune. The timing was perfect, and the ssage tied to the bird’s leg hinted at the scholar’s true identity.
Even the official warriors of Ipwang Fortress were, in the end, rely human. Against elite swordsn and a relentless hail of arrows, he had no chance of holding out alone.
He was driven beyond the city walls, pushed further and further into the open fields.
The Damgeuk Trading Guild masterfully guided the battle’s trajectory, maneuvering it into a desolate wasteland where no witnesses would interfere.
—The city is full of wolves. Do not send word. This kill is mine. The Zhuge Clan Leader will be pleased.
The rchant’s eyes glead with anticipation.
It was an age where power dictated status. Wealth had elevated him to the ranks of the strong.
He had beco so enamored with bloodshed that he frequented the underground Black Market arenas to watch gladiatorial combat.
And now, with a re flick of his hand, he was toying with a prized warrior of Ipwang Fortress.
It was exhilarating.
He was, without a doubt, one of the strong.
"Slowly. Subdue him carefully. Do not kill him."
At his command—
Clang!
The formation of four swordsn tightened.
Arrows streaked between them, further restricting the scholar’s movents.
Thin trails of blood splattered across his skin. His once-white robes were now stained red, his swordplay growing increasingly desperate.
He had realized their intent.
They were wearing him down. Draining his energy and stamina, bit by bit.
"Judging by your skill, you're clearly a White-Rank warrior. But our guild’s martial strength is far beyond that of so petty Sohbang Sect. If we are to navigate this turbulent world, we must at least be capable of subduing a single White-Rank swordsman."
The rchant spoke as if reciting poetry.
"If you wish to protect the people, then fatten our purses first. Your outdated ideals are an inconvenience. You buy the labor of the common folk, yet you scorn those of us who ensure they receive generous grain and salt rations. The mont martial arts interfere with profit, you lot always think of punishnt first. My uncle in Hanam suffered greatly at your hands."
He muttered to himself.
—Not that this is a conversation worth having with a re White-Rank warrior.
"You speak as if this were an era of peace... You think stacking gold bars earns you a place in the martial world!?"
The scholar shouted, his voice laced with anger.
His fury had disrupted his own combat rhythm.
The rchant smirked.
"Ah, now that's more like it. Finally, you look the part of a plaything." His voice lowered. "A fine toy indeed... The one who will grant my son a place under the Zhuge Clan Leader's tutelage."
The battle raged on until dusk.
The setting sun cast a soft orange glow along the horizon.
The light unfurled in silken waves, stretching across the cooling air, as the once-clashing blades began to falter.
Then, suddenly—
The scholar’s sword hesitated.
It was a fleeting mont.
Whoooosh—! BOOM!
Soone landed behind the encirclent.
The impact was imnse, as if they had leaped from a distant ridgeline.
The ground trembled violently, sending a radiant shockwave rolling outward.
It was as if starlight had washed away the lingering hues of sunset—
The sight was so surreal, it barely felt real.
"What in the...?"
The rchant and his guards murmured in unease.
They had yet to fully comprehend what had happened.
BOOM! BOOM!
Two more figures crashed down on either side, like teors.
A savage explosion erupted from the impact, splintering the earth in every direction.
Thick dust billowed upward, obscuring their forms.
As the haze settled, the silhouettes of two figures erged—
One was a girl wielding a long spear.
The other was a man, his aura heavy with an unmistakable air of dominance.
The sheer force radiating from them was staggering, as if the entire world had montarily been filled with their presence.
"Who... who are you?"
The rchant forced his expression into one of feigned composure.
The first to arrive raised his arm.
His hair, still tousled from his landing, had not yet settled.
A powerful suction force rippled from his palm, warping the air around it.
In the next instant, a devastating pull and an explosive release collided in a violent shockwave—
And the four swordsn’s blades—along with the scholar’s—were wrenched from their hands.
The sudden eruption of sword light was blinding.
Schlaaash—!
The sound of flesh and bone being cleaved apart echoed sharply.
Thin, ghostly white lines marked the throats of the four encircling swordsn.
Thud!
Four heads hit the ground with a dull thump.
Four bloodstained swords floated midair, along with a single pristine one—
The latter belonged to the scholar.
It remained suspended, solitary and dignified, as if swimming through the sky.
The overwhelming burst of internal energy had been monstrous.
The headless bodies, still upright, swayed as though puppeted by the lingering force of the impact.
Within that eerie stillness—
The scholar, his eyes stark in their contrast of black and white, parted his lips.
"...I have been stationed here for quite so ti, and thus, do not know your esteed na."
He addressed the man with jonham—a formal honorific for one of superior status.
There was a faint rustling as the one who had reached out let his dark hair fall, cascading over his shoulders.
The ink-black strands frad a jawline sharp with an almost sacred presence.
An unmistakable air of dominance radiated from him.
Even as he opened his lips, that sa aura lingered.
"White-Rank warrior."
The scholar gathered his hands together in a respectful bow.
His posture was pristine.
"I greet the Black-Rank of Bonseong."
The man’s gaze remained steady.
"You belong to the Myeongryu Corps, I presu?"
"...Yes, that is correct."
"I am the Lord of Ma Gwang-ik."
He spoke.
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