The courtyard of Yeokluseong's inner fortress, where Jin Myeong-jo was keenly sensing the atmosphere. Chi Geuk, the Duke of the North, had posed a strange question to Jegal Cheong-ah, and the many northern kings were facing off with the Black Clad warriors.
Jegal Cheong-ah slowly opened her mouth.
"Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin."
Her eyes were unfocused, as if lost in a dream, and tiny sparks flickered darkly in her pupils. They were her eye rays.
Her consciousness was torn between two forces. The desire for those important to Jeong Yeon-shin to know the truth and the influence of Chi Geuk’s refined martial arts techniques.
In the end, she spoke.
"I thought... it was pitiful."
Jegal Cheong-ah said.
She was the acting leader of the Eight Families. It was unimaginable that her ntal defenses were weak.
But despite her sufficient precautions against the Tenfold Gate techniques, she had failed to block the blow from the Demon King's attack completely.
Or perhaps so hesitation had allowed Chi Geuk’s question to slip through a gap. She didn’t know herself at this mont.
"Pitiful?"
The Lord of Bukgung asked again.
Had she been active in the southern martial world rather than the northern, she would’ve been hailed as one of the most famous, regarded as a top master.
As one of the most prominent mbers of the Dukes, she had an unsettling feeling from Jegal Cheong-ah's tone.
"What's going on here? Being a northern king's warrior won't protect you."
"Stop it."
The other dukes also responded to Chi Geuk's attack. But there was «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» no retreat from the northern kings’ side. The warriors under them had stepped forward.
"You should be more careful with your words when speaking of ‘higher kings’."
"Send word to the Northern Empire."
As Jeong Yeon-shin had first arrived as the northern king, the presence of these northern kings today was inevitable. He had entered the heart of the struggle for power.
The battle should have erupted long ago.
If there hadn’t been a woman hidden among the nurous dukes, it might have already happened.
The three northern kings, close to a level of genius, were particularly cautious about her.
The king’s inner chamber.
On the vast rooftop.
There stood the Bloodfla Cult Leader with bright red eyes like a ruby, staring intently.
Wearing a black sleeveless robe on her left arm, exposing her fair white skin, anyone could have mistaken her for another Black Clad warrior.
It was the sa battle robe Jeong Yeon-shin once wore. The youngest Black Clad warrior from the fiercest battles, now wearing clothes soaked in the aura of the treasured weapon.
In that mont, the robe clung to her body like it was about to sink into her skin. Faded blackwood tightly clung to her, her stance was as rigid as a legendary figure’s.
“What’s all this?”
She suddenly spoke, her gaze fixed on the battlefield.
‘Who do you think you are?’
Jin Myeong-jo, who had silently approached the inner fortress, flinched. He had always lowered himself in her presence.
A re mixed-blood and the revered Bloodfla body. There was a significant gap in their status by birth.
He knew that she revered Jeong Yeon-shin in so way, but that was as far as it went. Jin Myeong-jo didn’t want to fathom the madness inherent in the Bloodfla body.
“Keep quiet. If you disrupt the flow of energy, you may very well die.”
She whispered softly.
Her eyes, a deep red, flickered ominously.
The long black hair and robe flowing behind her seed as if they had once been one. Even though it wasn’t an imitation of Jeong Yeon-shin’s form.
"Ah."
Chi Geuk, grinning among the northern kings, lowered his voice.
[What did you think when you saw the poppy woman? When the poppy woman of the Ice Palace spoke of Jeong Yeon-shin.]
A faint murmur, the question returning to Jegal Cheong-ah.
At that mont, a swarm of Black Clads seed to rush toward Chi Geuk but paused. Tae Yeom-ryong’s opinions were ultimately irrelevant.
Moreover, the southern martial world had no knowledge of Jeong Yeon-shin’s true state. The only outsiders who could infiltrate his slumber were those imprisoned under the divine blade.
"Fool."
Tae Yeom-ryong, standing next to Jegal Cheong-ah, shrugged his shoulders. Soon, as he glanced around, his gaze shifted toward the Black Palace’s leader.
"Nothing."
She whispered.
"I don’t know."
"...?"
So of the more sensitive martial artists had their minds swept by the sense of unfamiliar information they couldn’t fully comprehend.
This was what the divine sense, the divine of spirits, referred to in martial arts felt like.
At that mont, Tae Yeom-ryong halted his movents.
Simultaneously, the other kings, including Yeokseong’s leader, Hyeon Won-chang, and the elder of Suncheon, all felt a shift.
They were all deeply ingrained in the martial techniques of the highest order.
Naturally, Jin Myeong-jo also sensed sothing strange. But he quickly pushed it aside.
‘I don’t know what’s going on, but this is ridiculous.’
The loud boastfulness of so of the dukes was fading.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
They had originally kept their bodies at the peak of preparedness, but now, even the trusted Black Clads seed to falter in their concentration.
They started to hear strange creaking noises from their joints and the taste of blood in their mouths. They had been distracted.
Could the northern warriors, now at the peak of their strength, not sense it?
‘Damn it...!’
It was a big deal. That was the sense Jin Myeong-jo had. The monster-level martial powers of Jeong Yeon-shin were nothing new.
In this strange atmosphere, the only person who seed peculiarly calm was Ma Gwang-ik, who had been with Jeong Yeon-shin for a long ti.
“What should we do?”
Cheongmyeong muttered quietly, slipping between the northern king’s forces, his intent seemingly to block their entry.
He was absurdly bold. He alone had the determination to seal the gates they had entered through.
Like the secrets threatening to spill out.
By that ti, Jin Myeong-jo had launched himself onto the walls, with the eerie vibrations of energy surrounding him.
[Silent Night, Prison of Chains.]
A swift victory in hand. The move had already been completed.
“...!”
Every skilled martial artist in the room, like a single unit, turned their heads. From where they stood, a crimson mist began to rise.
Sssss—
Seven invisible blades erged from the air, forming a phantom blade before the northern kings' eyes.
The black-red energy of the blade swirled in the air like an unseen phantom, created in a single breath by Jeong Yeon-shin's control.
‘For now... this is enough!’
It could have been made into more, but Jin Myeong-jo wasn’t sure how many blades he could control at once. So, seven it was.
Crash!
At the sa ti, the sleeves of the Black Blade Commander flared wide like bat wings. It was a calculated move.
Had the northern kings planned to rush forward, he had prepared his stance to tower over them, looking down from the high ground.
At this mont, Jin Myeong-jo, hoping not to appear too arrogant, suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
The martial artists’ gaze was montarily drawn to the invisible blades.
The northern kings had raised their eyes to Jin Myeong-jo.
“...”
A silence filled the room. The ground of the courtyard, once covered in dry earth, now trembled with tension.
Jin Myeong-jo anxiously hoped that, even if the initiative wasn’t taken, the other dukes' posturing would still be effective.
‘The majority here are disorganized. How do we protect the leader while fighting?’
The King of Dragon Resonance.
The Supre King.
The northern king without a master.
The massive warhorse-riding woman and the translucent figure with her monstrous claws, now frozen and still as death, were watching the entire scene unfold.
They hadn’t moved for quite so ti.
But she was clearly staring intently at Jin Myeong-jo.
He felt a knot tightening in his gut.
His mind felt the sa way.
Is this the North? Is this the kind of world Jeong Yeon-shin illuminated with his martial prowess? How many more of these kinds of people are there?
‘Is a northern conquest even possible...?’
When Jin Myeong-jo was imrsed in a deep sense of disbelief,
Suddenly, the King of Dragon Resonance gently stroked the head of the battle steed.
“I’ll return in a month. If North Jeong doesn’t reveal himself by then, I suppose I’ll side with the Southern Emperor,” she said.
“That’s a reasonable point. The legitimacy lies with the North's foremost," the King of Extres quietly muttered.
At the sa ti, an unnad Northern King gazed up at the top of the fortress, where Jeong Yeon-shin was resting, and his teeth glinted ominously.
“I will wait for the Whirling Wind Hollow,” she said.
anwhile, among the supre figures, the King of Extres nonchalantly shrugged, much like Tae Yeom-ryong. He grinned with a subtle smile.
“I apologize for the breach. Although I have marred the face of the Jeong family, I hope you understand that I haven’t tarnished the honor of the Divine Sword Corps,” he said, his eyes briefly glancing at a certain individual.
Sitting calmly, his sword gleaming darkly, was the youth with the impression of the King of the Heavenly Dragon, Wei Ji-geuk. His eyes were closed, and he seed dismissive of the situation.
The King of Extres’ smile grew sharper, like a long fingernail.
“...If the mont is right, we’ll et again.”
Not just Wei Ji-geuk, but all the major figures present, whether standing on the wall or sitting loosely on the ground, were now holding the hilt of their intangible swords, their hands glowing with a dark red light.
It was all happening.
Step by step, the Northern Kings and their followers began to leave.
At last, after exchanging so subtle glances, the ones closest to Jeong Yeon-shin, including Ma Gwang-ik and the others, quietly shifted their positions.
‘As expected, the best answer is the Golden Division.’
Jin Myeong-jo felt a certain certainty as he led the group of great leaders into the royal hall.
At the sa ti, he could not help but voice a request. His voice cracked coldly as it strained through his tense throat.
“No matter how close we are, I’ve been away from the Lord for too long. Even if the first among the North Kings arrives, at least two or three of us need to stay behind.”
Surprisingly, many of the great leaders nodded silently in agreent, sothing that had never happened before.
Crack!
So of the great leaders, fully capable of moving, made their way forward.
Qingming, Hak So-seon, Namgung Hwa-shin, and even Seonmok Ryeong, whose consciousness had flickered after receiving the transcendental punch from Mun Gok, followed, albeit slowly.
The Seven Stars of Blood had already disappeared, their vanished silhouettes having flown away.
Jin Myeong-jo quickly followed.
“...!”
He was stunned as he saw the figure of the Seven Stars of Blood being thrown out of the window of the hall. She had been struck with an impossible counterattack, and a deafening explosion soon followed, shaking the entire hall.
Boom—!
It was a force that could shatter even the fortress walls. The earth trembled as cracks spread out in all directions, dust bursting into the air.
In the next mont, Jin Myeong-jo entered the hall.
As he exhaled, a dozen or more figures in black burst through the broken windows, smashing through the gaps.
Figures like Hahoe Wi-jin and Wei Ji-geuk tore down walls and joined the encirclent.
Crash! Boom! Bam!
“This is...”
A woman's voice erged from the dust.
“So, I’ve been discovered. Everything was ready, though.”
Her voice was playful.
Jin Myeong-jo, along with all the figures in black, now saw her clearly.
Beneath a silver mask that only covered the tip of her nose, a pale set of lips were visible.
She wore a white scarf around her neck, and her figure was draped in white robes. Even with her eyes closed, the sword on her shoulder marked her as a formidable presence.
The Lord of the Divine Sword, So Cheonmujuk.
Her bright white robes fluttered like the emperor’s royal dragon robes, flowing from the bedside of Jeong Yeon-shin, who was resting.
At the sa ti, above their heads, Seon So-bin floated with a book in hand, as though she had just leapt toward the world’s greatest lord.
So Cheonmujuk slowly swept her gaze over them.
“Now that I see you, it’s impressive. I’m glad I started with ‘Desolate Silence.’ Didn’t you feel nothing?” she said.
No one dared to speak in response. War had begun in an instant.
Boom! Crash! Bam!
The intense martial power that had been building exploded all over the hall.
[Shape-shifting and Void.]
With a low laugh, So Cheonmujuk vanished. Not just her—Jeong Yeon-shin and the Sword Master vanished as well.
Literally disappearing in an instant, leaving nothing but emptiness.
Crash! Boom!
Dark, powerful forces bypassed Jeong Yeon-shin’s forr resting place, creating layers of tremors.
None of the strikes caused significant damage, for the leaders' maneuvers had been carefully planned. But it didn’t matter. It was too late.
Now, upon the bed.
A spark flew up from the ceiling, dropping ashes that traced a mischievous line on the blanket, forming dark letters. It was as if the divine lord of the teachings was toying with them.
[How foolish.
I thought you all would know about the Black Sword of the Ming Dynasty, but hearing it from you only seems ridiculous.
Jeong Yeon-shin of Hanam was born with the unlucky White Crown ridians.
The god of the upper realm, pulling energy endlessly from the natural forces, is destined to die soon.
His life won’t last twenty years.
I, the true lord, will take him.
I am his only true understanding.]
The words, written in the ashes, seed almost playful.
The book Seon So-bin had been holding, still floating, dropped to the floor. The cover read "Divine Sword Corps Jeong Ga-donggong" written in formal script with a heavy fragrance of ink. It seed like it had been written midway through a mission.
Yeokluseong froze in silence.
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