Jeong Yeon-shin felt it.
That he was approaching the edge of a vast era. The world was still imasurably wide, too much to take in at a glance, and yet, even so—now, it felt like anything could be attempted.
“......”
The book now in his hand proved it.
One half had gone to Heukhwan, the other taken by So Cheonmujuk, who had claid all belongings of the Violet Battle Robe when they took the headquarters of the Ming Sect.
The treasure that had lured countless martial artists to the North, the Secret Manual of the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan—it was a sacred text.
Its spiritual energy was so deeply infused into his upper dantian that the torn fragnts fused back together the instant they were brought near.
This was why legends about Taoist supernatural powers were passed down through generations.
‘Sword Immortal, Elder...’
Jeong Yeon-shin’s brow twitched.
As if even that tiny movent was noticed through so mysterious sensory technique, the Seventh Apostle smiled faintly.
“Jeong Household’s Young Lord would probably be the sa, no? Maybe even better at rging them.”
Jeong Yeon-shin ignored it smoothly.
At the sa ti, he briefly considered where the original version of the Jeong Family’s martial arts might be.
Since their ho had fallen, it was likely soone else had taken it.
‘Unless Master always kept it on his person...’
Step.
Even as he thought this, Jeong Yeon-shin had already handed the Secret Manual of the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan to Wi Ji-myohwa.
So Cheonmujuk, once again passed over, gave a hollow laugh, but Jeong Yeon-shin only looked into the eyes of the young leader of Zhongnan Sect.
“The Sword Queen of Jeomchang protected it so it wouldn’t fall into Shin Tu’s hands. She’ll be coming down from the north soon. You, as sect leader, should know this.”
“Ah.”
Sword Dragon Wi Ji-myohwa.
She didn’t seem shaken by the clash between Jeong Yeon-shin and So Cheonmujuk.
Unlike their first eting, the storms she had weathered now showed in her gaze. Her black eyes were calm, like the center of a great vortex.
She spoke.
“I won’t accept it. At least not now.”
He had expected that.
But now, Jeong Yeon-shin understood that such matters must be governed by propriety and martial law.
So he asked softly.
“Why not?”
“Of course, since Hye-a found and retrieved it, we should seek her agreent as well. But even before that—if we’re to determine how the sect should handle our secret text—”
Wi Ji-myohwa slowly parted her lips.
“Then the founder of the Radiant Blade Stream should be the first to decide.”
She was referring to the frawork of the Sword Crackling Lightning Form.
Radiant Blade Stream was born from the sword scars left by Gu Yang-cheon, a master swordsman of the past and a disciple of the Sword Sect.
It had since beco the Zhongnan Sect’s technique, branching from the Guhyang First Form.
That very Guhyang First Form had also been passed to Wi Ji-myohwa through Jeong Yeon-shin’s reverse interpretation of martial formulas.
Since then, Zhongnan Sect and Jeong Yeon-shin could no longer be considered strangers.
The bond had long grown deeper than with any outside family of Zhongnan.
Jeong Yeon-shin had the ability to decipher the true aning of martial formulas.
And the world was now in chaos.
The timing and utility were right.
No one could object to Wi Ji-myohwa’s decision.
Swish.
The pale spring breeze connected the strands of their hair in a single stream—like the passage of ti during Jeong Yeon-shin’s journey through the martial world.
It felt like a wind heading toward so unknown destination.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave a faint nod.
“...It was what I hoped for. I thank you for your permission, Sect Leader.”
“What’s that between comrades?”
Wi Ji-myohwa’s lips curled gently.
A smile cool as Zhongnan Mountain’s spring.
Co to think of it, Jinryeong Mountain Range had already given Jeong Yeon-shin two comrades.
‘I wonder if Yu Hyeon is making his way down safely.’
He thought of his close friend, who had grown considerably in both limbs and height.
Yu Hyeon may have already crossed the Great Wall by now.
By the ti he arrived in Shanxi, Jeong Yeon-shin would likely have reclaid Ipwang Fortress in Yangyang.
He had to.
‘I must.’
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly tucked the book into his robes.
All the while listening to Mun Gok, who had pushed away Lord of Hocheonseong with one hand, muttering sothing to Jeong-hye.
“...Then your perspective on formulas must be far-reaching. Would you like to learn from how to read them from multiple angles?”
“From you, Uncle?”
“Despite how I look, I was the top scorer of the county-level civil exam.
My greatest pride—though also my greatest regret...”
“Regret? Why?”
“Because I never took the imperial and palace exams.”
Anyway, only until Lord Jeong finishes his business—
This, despite trampling over the intentions of Zhongnan disciples like a tyrant.
Jeong Yeon-shin was just about to tune out Mun Gok’s voice when—
Rustle.
Strands of golden light shimred in the clear sunlight.
Suddenly, a woman’s hair appeared right in front of Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes.
Hair like flowing gold.
The always-composed mbers of the Divine Sword Corps burst out with qi in shock.
Rumble...!
Dust erupted from various directions.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared silently at the beauty who looked like a youthful fairy.
And slowly opened his mouth.
“Grand Elder.”
“...Seomye, ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) it’s been a long ti.”
Yeo Il-shin spoke strangely clearly, as if placing emphasis on every syllable.
“I heard you’ve been reborn. You’ve grown admirably. It’s a very pleasing sight.”
Her tone was flat—like soone trying to fully awaken from a deep sleep.
She also felt like soone suppressing a trendous flow of internal energy, like a peerless master.
Yet Yeo Il-shin was not such a master.
‘Her inner strength, protective qi, energy storage, divine power in her upper dantian... all of it is off.’
Everything felt unnaturally swollen—like a tree soaked in spiritual energy instead of a human being.
aning, she could unleash a killing strike threatening even Jeong Yeon-shin at any ti.
‘Demonstrative Low Posture Technique.’
In that mont, Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes shimred dark-blue.
Slick.
Her ears stood like blades, and the formless protective qi surrounding her turned translucent.
At the sa ti, her entire form twisted in Jeong Yeon-shin’s vision.
“......”
Everything else looked normal.
A wall of inner energy blocking his ocular technique.
He had never seen a skill like this before.
If they exchanged actual blows, it would be quite troubleso.
“Tch.”
Yeo Il-shin’s voice.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
In the next mont, her figure returned to normal.
As if she had voluntarily reduced the density of her protective qi.
Her lips curved bitterly.
Like fallen leaves layered on late autumn soil.
“My apologies.”
“I was the one who overstepped.”
“No.
Anyone would have.”
Yeo Il-shin slowly shook her head and continued.
“Before I leave the sect for good,
I wished to et you at least once.
Shall we have so tea?”
Wi Ji-myohwa’s expression grew heavy.
She didn’t yet understand the reason—but she would soon enough.
Step.
As Jeong Yeon-shin followed after her—
So Cheonmujuk’s voice scattered into the sunlight from behind.
“Even if I am an uninvited guest...”
At that mont, the entire Zhongnan Hall sank into silence.
Though Mun Gok and the Seventh Apostle stood right beside her, none believed the movent of the world’s most infamous cult leader was completely sealed.
“To treat with such disdain... is a violation of proper conduct.”
So declared the leader of the Ming Cult in the very heart of an orthodox faction.
No one could believe she was in her right mind.
So Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.
Black, misty demonic energy from the third halo lightly escaped his lips like breath.
“Wait.”
And he began walking again.
That was all.
No other movent followed.
Even as Jeong Yeon-shin and Yeo Il-shin walked far off into the distance, everyone else remained still—
simply watching in stunned silence as So Cheonmujuk and Jeong Yeon-shin’s backs disappeared.
***
The two sat facing each other.
A small tea table was set between them.
“Co to think of it, it’s truly a long-standing connection.”
Yeo Il-shin’s voice mingled with the trickling sound of tea pouring. In that mont, the stream of tea from the kettle extended in golden streaks, like her hair. Jeong Yeon-shin quietly stared at the teacup for a while.
They called it Jingwei Fu Tea.
He slowly opened his mouth.
“...I owe my life to more people than I can count now, but the first was you, Grand Elder.”
For the first ti, Yeo Il-shin smiled without a trace of shadow.
“There’s no rit on my part, is there? I still rember it vividly. A young boy swinging his sword like he was possessed.”
Then, she took a sip of the tea she had poured herself. Just for that mont, Yeo Il-shin’s throat moved with a natural curve.
The fragrant aroma spread gently. It was a deeply quiet atmosphere. Just like when he had first arrived at Zhongnan Sect.
So many mories.
—I’d like to take this golden tea with when I return.
Heon-won Chang had once pleaded with Zhongnan to obtain that tea and brewed it for Ma Jin, who was then the Lord of Ma Light Pavilion. It was the night of Jeong Yeon-shin’s coming-of-age ceremony, when the Ma Light Pavilion seniors held a rather grand drinking party.
Drunken Ma Jin, unusually inebriated, had no interest in hangovers. He simply viewed the precious tea as sothing scooped up from a chamber pot.
—If it ca from a worthless man, it must surely be poisonous. Bring a silver needle.
—Heh, I really must report this to the Zhongnan Grand Elder...
—Even if you don’t speak of it, there’s a sliver of a chance they already know. The nobler the clan, the less they don’t know. They’re an unpleasant sort. How else would Zhongnan have known in advance about the ambush from the Sword-Destroying Sect?
—Noble... unpleasant... Lord...?
—Bring the silver needle.
Demon Slayer Ma Jin.
Where could he be now?
Being the forr Lord of Ipwang Castle, there was a sliver of a chance. With the whole martial world descending upon them, he may have perished fighting countless enemies in a futile attempt to protect the main fortress.
The sa could be said for the other warriors of Ipwang Castle. All of them were like uncles to Jeong Yeon-shin.
Family no different from blood. Since returning to the Central Plains, Jeong Yeon-shin had quietly suppressed his worry for them, but it was a concern that could turn into fury at any mont.
‘I must find them all.’
Just as he was about to speak again, Yeo Il-shin’s lips moved first.
“I’ve had my body taken by that one. Even now, it’s difficult to maintain my sanity.”
He had briefly forgotten. She had her own reasons for being here.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t ask who "that one" was. It was a being he had already conversed with in Beijing. The one that had seemingly possessed the Lord of Ipwang Castle.
‘The Celestial Tree.’
The edge of all mysteries in the world.
“I’ll get to the point. I don’t have much ti left.”
“I’m listening.”
“If one carries a high concentration of the noble clan’s blood, and cos into contact with the Celestial Tree’s root, a new persona can be conceived like Won Yeong-shin Demon. It becos sothing mixed—part of themselves and part of the tree... and with that cos four enforced gifts.”
Yeo Il-shin spread her long fingers and curled in her thumb. A habit born from explaining things at eye level to young disciples ever since the Sword-Destroying Sect attacked Zhongnan Mountain. Co to think of it, even her words and behavior were oddly intuitive.
“Qi, Spirit, Perception, and Life. Increase in internal energy reserves, upper dantian’s spiritual power, full-body sensory perception, and regenerative capabilities. A supply of power one could never reach even if obsessed with martial arts—like nutrients from a tree root. That is the Celestial Tree.”
“Though it doesn’t construct a salvation-level technique that reaches the Voidless Dance, the strength itself is of the absolute realm...?”
“That’s correct. Of course, even so, I was defeated by a re mber of the Divine Sword Corps without a title.”
“That was only natural.”
Jeong Yeon-shin calmly accepted her words.
Yeo Il-shin, who had been watching him quietly, faintly smiled.
“Regardless... this is akin to an incomprehensible demonic art. It doesn’t even trigger latent potential. It simply grants excessive power through bloodline and the will of a great tree. And what do you think the price of that is?”
“......”
“If it’s one of the most mystical and vicious demonic arts in the world, then naturally, its end would be an early death.”
And then Yeo Il-shin said,
But what aning does that have? The world will die before I do.
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly asked,
“What is the Celestial Tree’s objective?”
“Even after becoming part of the tree, I still don’t know. If you want to find out, you’ll have to break through the Four Great Guardians of Gonghoubozi and face it directly.”
The Dragon Blade Duke, Northern Sea Fist Marquis, Sky-Cutting Palace Earl, and Golden Wall Viscount.
“They too must have been consud, and probably achieved even greater ascension than I have. They were in positions suited for it.”
All of them were close to the walking tree, and valued the Celestial Tree more than anyone. Not to ntion their bloodlines.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded slightly.
And asked,
“You said you’ve beco part of the Celestial Tree. Does that an you can now see all areas affected by the roots?”
In other words—places like this. The walking tree, the main fortress of Ipwang Castle, all the mountains of the nine old sects, and the lands filled with spiritual earth where powerful figures naturally gathered.
But Yeo Il-shin shook her head.
“You already know. That’s far too much power, isn’t it? To sit still, and without any risk, observe all forbidden mystical places and assess the state of all powerful figures... Only the true body of the Celestial Tree could possess such a power.”
She continued calmly.
“I’m rely one of the walking roots. Even ‘that one’ understands the vastness of the world and the value of information better than anyone. To maintain the greatest power in the world, one must erect the greatest spiritual wall in the upper dantian...”
“Being a root is enough.”
“...Hm?”
“That power.”
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly moved his arm.
His hand, brushing through the faint steam of the two teacups, naturally interlocked fingers with Yeo Il-shin.
“I’ll take it.”
A seamless golden hand lock.
Sarak.
Calloused fingers softly rubbed at their joints. Jeong Yeon-shin, using the full-body pulse projection of Jeong Ga-dong-gong, drew out hundreds of streams of energy in one breath, all of which pierced transparently into Yeo Il-shin’s energy stream.
Just like he once did with the Lord of Ipwang Castle.
In that instant, Yeo Il-shin’s eyes turned white, like a winter tree stripped of its leaves.
Wooooom—
Powered by the two-syllable secret art.
‘Heart Blade.’
The quiet fragrance of tea was swept away. Then, in a flash, the spirit leapt thousands of miles.
With one breath, the Divine Sword Corps leader’s gaze swept across the Central Plains.
And a rare few transcendent masters of the martial world lifted their heads beneath that gaze.
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