Mangsan, near Taewon Province.
A faint disturbance stirred the otherwise tranquil valley.
Saaa—
The callia trees, their branches wrapped in a hazy mist, let out a low, whispering cry as they welcod the unexpected guests. The intruder’s feet, burning with internal energy, scorched the leaves as they rushed past.
"Owol Daesalmun suffered losses during the Heavenly Demon Tomb uprising?"
"That’s right."
The silent darkness of the forest was broken by the presence of people.
The rustling of grass and the whisper of movent trailed behind the figures like the tail of a cot. Each step sent a piercing shockwave through the air.
Tae Yeom-ryong’s movent technique was anything but subtle. He soared forward with grand strides, and Shin So-bin, following closely behind, was just as ostentatious.
Unlike them, Salhyup, leading at the front, moved with Phantom Flight, his steps devoid of any presence.
Hyeon Won-chang, too, remained eerily silent, but he couldn't fully suppress his Phantom Flight due to the ongoing conversation with Tae Yeom-ryong.
“…However, the branches we’re visiting now weren’t involved in that incident. That’s why they survived. The only reason the main family mbers held captive at the Mo Yong Clan and Taemo Fortress didn't break under torture was because they had no knowledge of it.”
"So they were tangled in this ss too? That stench of aristocracy again. These martial nobility, always preaching righteousness—how amusing. No doubt they’re funneling money into the nearest governnt office as we speak."
"You don’t need to console . My mind is already clouded with the upcoming trial."
"Console you? As if."
"Regardless, using valuable ti for personal matters and failing… That would be an utter disgrace, both in the eyes of our Grand Master and in light of the Gwang-ye-gyeol secret manual. I’d have no face left to show."
"It’s strange that a branch sect gets to decide whether to acknowledge the main sect’s people or not."
"Owol Daesalmun’s predecessor, Geumga Salmun, was always that kind of clan and sect. To prevent the loss of their secret techniques, they split their martial arts formulas among the branches, allowing them to survive independently. So remained righteous, others fell to the Demonic Sect."
"A fragnted remnant of the Bright Sect? A gatekeeper clan of the Heavenly Demon Tomb?"
"Sothing like that. A distant collateral branch, if you will. However, even if a new Heavenly Demon were to rise today, the Salmun would no longer follow them."
"This trial of yours—it’s not sothing ridiculous like seven days and nights of breath-holding with the Ghost Breath Technique, is it?"
"Not quite. Though, you’re not entirely wrong."
A rich, lodious voice drifted from beneath Salhyup’s black hat.
"You’ll find out soon enough, but rather than testing assassination skills, it’s more about personal martial prowess. The key is whether the one inheriting the secret technique can defend themselves. There may be so peculiar contraptions like the Diamond Bronze n of Shaolin, or perhaps a test of the Sword Path."
"And you can just tell this outright? I thought Salmun matters were supposed to be secret."
"I’m not confident I could handle both Seon-hwi and you at the sa ti."
A faint chuckle laced Salhyup’s words.
"And besides, if you’re Seon-hwi’s friend, that makes you only a few degrees removed from as well. The blood of Salmun runs strong. In the end, it always pulls one back to their roots. Always."
"You’re speaking as if our Great Snow Sword (Dae-seolggeom) is about to walk out on Ma Gwang-ik."
"Take my words with a grain of salt. The sect originates from the Demonic Sect, after all. Ever since I was a child, this place has been filled with nonsense. In the end, we couldn’t stop the combined assault of the great sects, nor the kidnappings of our direct lineage."
Hyeon Won-chang, uncharacteristically, spoke with irritation.
Salhyup did not reply. Only the bitter sound of his quiet laughter brushed against the undergrowth beneath their feet.
***
Bright Sunlight
The golden sunlight poured down in brilliant streams.
The streets stretched wide under the open sky, bustling with people. The main road was alive with noise.
"Just plant this seed, and your land will beco fertile! This is the Su-mi Seed, brought straight from Xinjiang! Ah, just take a chance and wait a year! It’s incredibly rare! I swear, I’m not lying!"
"Co to the tavern with the greatest chef in the land! We have Dongpo Pork tastier than anything you'll find in Hangzhou!"
"Is it true that the Zhuge Clan Leader is dead? The Imperial Sword is getting involved in the martial world of Shanxi?"
"They say he was killed by the Black Warrior of Ipwang Fortress… That Seomye, the Lotus Manifestation. The entire martial world is in an uproar. Even the Ha Trading Company suffered a huge loss."
"Of course! It wasn’t just so nobody—the Reincarnated Hidden Dragon himself is dead! This isn’t just a martial world issue; even the rchant world is going to feel the aftershocks... The investors in Wolseongmun took a huge hit, but I guess waiting a bit longer turned out to be the right move."
"I’m thinking of making so connections with Ipwang Fortress’s Shanxi Branch while I have the chance."
"That place? No way… Isn’t the branch leader just a newly promoted Blue Rank warrior? Strong, sure, but I’d rather work with a Beijing noble. Shanxi’s martial world is a lost cause. Even the Black Warriors who ca to take down the Zhuge Clan Leader will probably leave soon."
The streets were a chaotic mix of different people.
At a glance, one could see countless nobles walking around. As expected of Shanxi’s provincial capital.
The drought hadn’t yet reached this city, the greatest in Shanxi. It was like Ipwang Fortress’s ho province, Yangyang.
Well-maintained taverns lined the streets, their facades gleaming. Beneath one of the second-floor windows, the lively morning market bustled with energy, far from the tranquility one might expect at this hour.
"Everyone, run! War! A civil war is coming! The martial noble families have raised an army!"
"Do you think the Imperial Army and Ipwang Fortress are blind? Stop talking nonsense… Just eat your mooncake."
"It’s Sim Mu-ryeon! They’ll co to claim ownership of your land—yours and mine! I swear it’s true!"
"Even if that’s the case, it’ll only be the martial artists who lose their heads. This is Shanxi. Beijing is right next door. The only ones who’ll die are the vagabonds without identification. No matter how ruthless Sim Mu-ryeon is, they wouldn’t dare touch the commoners who pay their tribute."
—Ssskk.
Jeong Yeon-shin leaned his elbow on the ochre-stained table.
He had just arrived in Taewon after a long journey.
The sturdy texture of the wooden surface pressed against the dust-covered hem of his robe. Resting his chin on the back of his hand, he effortlessly blended into the role of a wandering traveler.
A few passersby glanced up at him from the street, looking through the window. Jeong Yeon-shin, however, t their eyes without a hint of discomfort, simply watching them in silence.
The naïve boy who once tried to enter Ipwang Fortress without knowing the ways of the world was long gone.
Sim Mu-ryeon… That was one of the great martial armies, wasn’t it?
From his sunlit spot on the second floor, he could take in the myriad lives unfolding below.
Street vendors tugging at passersby, rchants sitting by their stalls and chatting about worldly matters, self-proclaid scholars loudly discussing martial world rumors…
These people didn’t need to pretend to be carefree, like Ma Gwang-ik did. They didn’t suffer from deep internal injuries, as Jeong Yeon-shin did now.
But they had their own struggles. Living as a weakling in a world dominated by martial arts was no easy feat.
And with a looming drought creeping ever closer, how much worse would their lives beco?
Would they, too, end up preying on those weaker than themselves? Just like the martial artists who had recently started raiding food supplies?
—Tok.
Jeong Yeon-shin tapped his index finger against the table.
A thought crossed his mind—Jang Sun-il, the herb gatherer.
A boy who had helped him rescue his niece, Jeong Hye, and in return, had taken the Chronicles of the Annihilated Devil Sect. He had sworn to take revenge on the demonic outlaws who had slaughtered his family.
Had he survived? Or had he died along the way, crushed by the rciless world?
"Sir, what would you like to order…?"
A young boy, likely a tavern server, approached cautiously. His eyes flickered toward the Northern Bright Sword strapped to Jeong Yeon-shin’s waist.
There was no fear in his gaze—only curiosity.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips curled into a faint smile. His presence had weakened so much that he no longer inspired caution.
He took a small pouch of salt from his robe and handed it over. The boy’s face imdiately lit up.
"One bowl of noodles and a few dumplings."
"Ah… We’re out of that. It’s too popular—everyone orders it."
"Do you have sliced chicken stir-fry?"
"We don’t have pork, so no pork dishes."
"Kung Pao Chicken, then."
"Oh! We do have chicken! The chef makes it really well! Would you like so wine too?"
"Bamboo l— No, just the food."
"Understood!"
The boy cheerfully replied and hurried off.
Even tavern servers were considered privileged now.
Taverns that still served cooked food had beco as rare as old drinking halls from a few years ago.
With food supplies growing scarce, establishnts had started hiring ard guards to prevent raids. This tavern was no exception.
To even afford food and lodging, one needed more than just a handful of coins—salt or silver was the preferred currency now.
Even bowing to the ard guards at the entrance required a certain status. Ordinary people couldn’t even dream of walking in unchallenged.
"Ah, Grand Master, you’ve arrived. And you as well, Sir."
"Yes, good work."
A woman’s voice rang out from the first floor. Her footsteps hit the ground with weight, their echo unusually loud.
Not one, but two people walked with that sa unshakable confidence.
The presence of martial power radiated from both of them, each carrying a distinct yet overwhelming aura.
They strode through the bustling street as if it were their own courtyard.
"Hey, kid. This is the right place?"
"Huh?"
"They said a stunning beauty ca in here."
"Oh… A noble-looking gentleman did arrive."
"Alright, move aside."
Heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs, the sound reverberating all the way up to the second floor.
It wasn’t careless—no, it was the stride of a triumphant general.
The other guests near Jeong Yeon-shin flinched, ducking their heads toward their food. It was as if so monstrous creature from the Shan Hai Jing were climbing up the stairs.
—Thud.
A small but calloused hand grasped the edge of the second-floor railing. Even at a glance, it was clear that its owner had undergone rigorous training.
Black, dust-covered hair followed, tangled with bits of stone and dirt.
"Let’s see here."
No one voiced a single complaint.
Even though the second floor was filled with wealthy nobles, no one dared to object.
They simply focused on their als, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the woman who grinned at Jeong Yeon-shin.
"Ah, so it’s you. Well, well."
She strode forward with long steps, the hem of her yellow robe swaying with each movent.
Strapped to her back was an enormous saber. Her eyes, naturally gentle in shape, didn’t match the smirk tugging at her lips.
She stared at Jeong Yeon-shin, walking closer before quirking her lips into a crooked grin.
"Huh?"
She shook her head at herself, a sight that was sowhat ridiculous.
"A man. Of course, it’s a man. I ca all this way after listening to rumors, only to be disappointed. What a letdown."
"Very few rumors from the marketplace are worth believing. Besides… what woman would ever take a Grand Master seriously? You’d be better off using this ti to wash up. You reek of wild boar."
The remark ca from a scholarly-looking man who had stepped up beside her.
He was a strikingly handso man with sharp features, holding a folding fan. His pristine white robes and the elegant spread of the crane design on his sleeves suited him perfectly.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes, which had remained indifferent even when looking at the so-called Grand Master, narrowed slightly. His gaze flickered toward the fan.
anwhile, the woman and the man continued their conversation.
"I ca all the way from Henan to Taewon. I’ve been in self-imposed training. If I want to cut down my dear brother, I can’t waste a single mont."
"And yet you still find ti to flirt with every lady you co across? No wonder the Lotus Lord exiled you, calling you a disgrace to the sect. Even went as far as disowning you."
At that mont, Jeong Yeon-shin subtly examined the flow of their inner energy.
It was so loosely concealed that even the leftover scraps of the Zhuge Clan Leader’s Twin Divine Art were better composed. They clearly intended for their conversation to remain secret, but it was laughably easy to overhear.
"What’s wrong with a woman liking won? It’s the fate that was given to , after all."
"I’m saying pick just one—whether it’s the blade or the bedroom."
"You know . My ambitions won’t allow that. I’ll take it all. But first, I need to drag my bastard brother down."
"And between the two of you, which one is the real bastard…?"
"At least I’m not insane enough to throw myself at the Sword Lord. No matter how reckless I am."
"…Well, I suppose you have a point."
Hmph.
The woman scoffed before stepping past the weak boundary of energy concealing their voices. Without hesitation, she plopped herself down directly across from Jeong Yeon-shin.
Her massive saber, still strapped to her back, jutted upward slightly as she sat, but she didn’t seem to care.
"Gun Yu-rin."
"Are you insane?"
Jeong Yeon-shin blurted it out without thinking and imdiately regretted it.
He didn’t let it show, but his niece, Jeong Hye’s scolding words suddenly echoed in his mind.
He had been dealing with so many rough martial artists lately that his words had beco sharper without him realizing it. He needed to control himself. He didn’t want to corrupt his niece’s ears when they t again.
‘It feels like my words are drifting away from my ntal discipline. I need to be careful.’
Puh-hah!
Gun Yu-rin, who had briefly looked stunned, suddenly burst into laughter.
"Right? That’s exactly how I must look! Since I was so rude on our first eting, how about I buy you a drink? I’d like to admire such a rare face for a little longer. Regardless of your gender, you're a rare sight indeed."
"I’m abstaining from alcohol."
"Not that you can’t drink, but that you won’t? You do look a bit young, I suppose."
Jeong Yeon-shin’s lower eyelid twitched.
"This conversation is getting annoying. Leave."
And that was when it happened.
Hwaaak—!
"Judging by the sword you wear, you must be the scion of a prestigious martial family. But surely you’ve heard the saying—one who roams the martial world without knowing how to judge people will surely die."
A folding fan pointed directly at the space between Jeong Yeon-shin’s brows.
The scholarly man beside Gun Yu-rin was now glaring at him.
"Not recognizing the young lady is one thing, but I’ve never heard of soone like you being in Taewon. For your age, you have remarkably refined energy… Now I’m curious about your identity."
Silence filled the tavern.
Even though this was happening in the corner of the second floor, the entire establishnt had focused on them.
Sowhere nearby, the young tavern server from earlier stood anxiously, looking at Jeong Yeon-shin with clear worry.
Considering the tis, eating a full al was enough to make soone arrogant, but the boy’s heart was clearly worn on his sleeve.
So martial artists gained great enlightennt from seemingly trivial monts.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly recalled sothing.
‘The ultimate secret of Sword Control is the unity of sword and spirit (剑神同体).’
The sword and the mind.
It was an ultimate form of transcendence.
Just as true masters could rge their essence, energy, and spirit into one, so too could one rge their mind with the blade.
When Jeong Yeon-shin had first heard this from the Phantom Ghost Blade Baek Seo-goon, he hadn’t understood it at all.
It was a technique that relied on sothing beyond simple energy sensing.
But now… now he understood.
Divine Dragon Transformation Art.
What would happen if he projected the cooperative sensation of his upper dantian into a weapon?
Uuuuung.
Suddenly, the chopsticks in Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand began to vibrate.
At the sa ti, Gun Yu-rin’s eyes widened.
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