The air within Myeonggondo grew heavier, an unusually chilly breeze brushing past the masters of the Tang Sect and the Beggars' Sect.
The wind, which grazed the stone walls of the cavern, echoed with rough, dull sounds—sounds that mirrored the state of Hu Gae’s heart.
‘Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin. The Blue Rank of Ma Gwang-ik, interim Da-ju of the Mu-ryeok Unit.’
Conflicting emotions surged within him: awe and caution. As a martial artist, he couldn’t help but be impressed.
The speed of the boy’s growth was too fast, and the depth of his martial knowledge seemed as profound as an abyss.
For Hu Gae’s level of mastery, this boy’s martial power clearly surpassed the limits of the later stages of supreme mastery.
‘He has reached the Black Rank of Ipwang Fortress. It wouldn’t be surprising if a new Da-ju emerges under the Singeom Division soon.’
There was more to it than just building martial prowess. Defeating a supreme master of equal or greater rank was a completely different matter.
It meant he had an innate sense of battle and skills that far exceeded the levels of his techniques.
To find a martial artist who had reached such heights at Seomye’s age, one would have to search through history itself.
Even then, only a handful of names would come to mind—Dharma, Zhang Sanfeng, and the founder of the Ming Cult.
This was why it was so astonishing, a rarity that filled him with wonder. For anyone walking the martial path, it was impossible not to be moved.
However, from the perspective of someone managing the martial world, the situation was entirely different. As part of the Nine Great Sects, the Beggars' Sect was responsible for preserving the order and harmony of the martial world.
The sudden emergence of a prodigy like Seomye could not help but raise concerns.
‘Soon, the grand assembly of the martial alliance will take place. Even if only symbolically, we cannot avoid inviting the masters of Ipwang Fortress. If that boy attends, will there even be a peer among his age group to face him?’
No one came to mind.
Few sects in the martial world would welcome the achievements of Ipwang Fortress’s masters.
Unless they were sects cultivating themselves in pure and serene places, like the Nine Great Sects, most others would secretly harbor daggers in their hearts.
Even without provocation, Ipwang Fortress was despised for their policies of suppressing the martial world under the guise of protecting civilians.
Except for religious sects like the Nine Great Sects, most martial artists shared similar sentiments, Hu Gae believed.
“Did I harm the commoners? What, did some innkeepers complain? Heroes and champions drink, and sometimes they draw their swords. So what?”
“There are countless evildoers across the land. Ipwang Fortress is sacrificing too much for too little...”
Even Hu Gae somewhat agreed with such sentiments.
“Ipwang Fortress. One of their sharpest blades has dulled... and yet another blade emerges, sharper than ever. A sword so young it has just been forged. Truly unfair.”
He muttered quietly, referring to both Ma Gwang-ik and Seomye.
A young master of the later stages of supreme mastery had defeated two core elites of the Dae Bang Sect.
Not just one, but two. Who would believe it?
The Greatsword of the Tenfold Gate and the Supreme Demon Hand were each comparable to the leaders of the Nine Great Sects.
Dokgo Gwang and Ha Yul-geuk. Even the heads of the martial divisions within the Eight Noble Clans would find them formidable opponents.
‘The balance of the martial world will shift, even if only slightly. An extraordinary prodigy has emerged.’
Hu Gae scratched his back as he pondered, trying to catch a glimpse of Seomye.
However, the boy was hidden among the warriors of Ipwang Fortress, and Hu Gae couldn’t see him clearly.
“Hey, you seem to be scheming something sneaky.”
A soft voice interrupted him, and Hu Gae turned his head.
Tang Leryeo, the Toxic Phoenix, was staring at him, her gaze cold and steady.
“Sneaky? How dare you insult the Beggars' Sect? Call it deep foresight, if you will. While the two sides were fighting, it was us beggars who protected the common people.”
He responded with a sly grin. Tang Leryeo’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
She couldn’t deny the truth. While Ma Gwang-ik was faltering, the Beggars' Sect had stepped in to protect the residents of Myeonggondo.
Most of the Iron Clan members who had gathered far away were safe thanks to their efforts.
Only the desolate land of Myeonggondo was left abandoned.
Hu Gae chuckled and continued, “Before you point out invisible faults in others, how about reflecting on your own conduct? Were you not simply watching Seomye out of fear of losing your sect’s Ten Thousand Blossoms Rain? Sure, your subordinates helped us, but I never imagined a young lady of the Tang Clan would call me sneaky.”
“Don’t make me laugh. Do you think I don’t know you’re constantly sizing people up? Wondering if they’ll be an obstacle to the alliance?”
“Well then, young lady, does your Taesang Ga-ju know about this extended outing of yours?”
“Does that even matter?”
Tang Leryeo brushed her short hair behind her ear and replied.
Her posture and tone radiated the pride of a noble family’s cherished jewel. Hu Gae’s grin deepened.
“If you’re nitpicking at me because of the Ten Thousand Blossoms Rain, I can understand. Nothing in the world is more important than your sect’s ultimate technique. But how many martial artists with Seomye’s talent do you think exist?”
“......”
“However, mind your words. Didn’t the Tang Clan also sign the alliance charter? After what happened with Hwangbo and Namgung, you said you would no longer tolerate such brutal oppression. If your sharp words jeopardize the trust of the alliance, I doubt your Taesang Ga-ju would be pleased.”
Hu Gae smiled as he added, “Let’s keep our distance. I find the Tang Clan rather uncomfortable, after all.”
Though his tone was leisurely, his words carried sharpness. Tang Leryeo offered no further reply.
She realized that engaging in such a quarrel amidst the masters of Ipwang Fortress wasn’t appropriate.
Perhaps because the truth would soon come to light anyway, Hu Gae’s audacity was both astounding and absurd.
It was at that moment—
“Hey, our clan was the one that got annihilated, so why are you making a fuss?”
With an impish tone, a wave of fiery energy swept over them.
A strong arm draped itself over Hu Gae’s shoulder.
It was Tae Yeom-ryong, who had appeared out of nowhere. The atmosphere seemed to boil instantly.
A shockingly powerful Fiery Yang Energy heated the air around them.
“Like a thunderous rascal.”
He spoke while slinging an arm over Hu Gae.
Though his tone sounded utterly indifferent, his presence silenced everyone.
The oppressive heat radiating from him gave the impression of someone invincible.
No one within the later stages of supreme mastery dared to challenge him.
“......”
Hu Gae remained silent, and none of the Beggars' Sect subordinates intervened.
Tae Yeom-ryong had already made a name for himself as a fearsome master.
His display of martial prowess in Myeonggondo today had been nothing short of shocking.
Aside from Seomye, Ma Gwang-ik, and the Tang Ga-ju, everyone knew there was no one who could stand against him.
Thus, Tae Yeom-ryong remained silent for a while, a faint smile playing on his lips, exuding an overwhelming sense of pressure.
Not a single person doubted that this flame-wielding prodigy might truly melt Hu Gae’s neck if he so desired.
“Wow, from here to there, what an incredible sight. It’s truly fascinating. Perhaps the only joy left in my life.”
He muttered to himself like a madman, his arm still around Hu Gae’s neck as he watched Jeong Yeon-shin.
Even then, a soft wave of light continued to emanate from the boy’s body.
“Interesting. Thrilling.”
The vastness of the martial world became strikingly apparent in this moment. Tae Yeom-ryong's lips curled into a wide grin.
Hu Gae remained motionless, unable to move even a muscle. He stood there, rooted to the spot, until Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin completed his energy circulation.
It was all because Tae Yeom-ryong hadn't moved an inch. Had the Beggars' Sect's standing been even slightly weaker, the situation might have taken a dire turn.
It was only when Hu Gae's cold sweat began to evaporate that Jeong Yeon-shin finally concluded his energy circulation.
With a long exhale, the boy opened his eyes amidst the warriors of Ipwang Fortress. Immediately, Hyeon Won-chang rushed forward, holding Jeong Yeon-shin’s Ipwang Sword with both hands.
“Here, take this, So-hyeop.”
He grinned as he offered the weapon, and a faint smile curved on Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips.
There was something undeniably refreshing about Hyeon Won-chang’s demeanor.
“You’ve truly accomplished something astounding. Your progress in martial arts is beyond incredible, I’d say...”
Hyeon Won-chang’s round eyes gleamed as he started lavishing praise, but this was only the beginning.
“Incredible. The next Black Rank is going to come from Ma Gwang-ik, no doubt about it.”
“That final move... Was that the second form of Sihwa Muguk-su? I never thought it could produce such dazzling changes. It was on par with the Plum Blossom Swordsmanship of Mount Hua Sect.”
“I still remember when you were just White Rank. It feels like it was only yesterday.”
The senior warriors of Ma Gwang-ik gathered around. This time, none of them reached out to ruffle his hair or pat his shoulder.
There was a newfound respect for the young prodigy, recognition of a martial artist who had reached extraordinary heights.
Their smiles conveyed pride, even though many of their comrades had perished.
They repressed their sorrow, buried it deep within, and carried on. Each of them had their own way of coping with grief.
Their life experience, their inner strength, surpassed that of Jeong Yeon-shin.
‘I must learn from them.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought, haunted by visions of his fallen comrades and Ma Jin’s severed arm flashing before his eyes.
He struggled to calm his mind. There was no room for complacency until they made it back safely.
After brief reunions with Ma Jin, Baek Mi-ryeo, and Cheongmyeong, Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t linger long.
There were too many wounded to attend to, and the priority was to leave the cavern and find a healer.
Still, the fleeting joy of seeing his comrades again couldn’t be helped.
“Please, wait a moment!”
From the direction of the Dongryeok District of Myeonggondo, a group of over a hundred Iron Clan members approached.
Their first act was to offer deep gratitude.
They gathered and bowed deeply, their postures radiating utmost respect.
Their gestures and words conveyed immeasurable gratitude.
The way they looked at Jeong Yeon-shin and Ma Jin alternated between reverence and near-worship.
These people, who had lived their lives in the confines of the underground, viewed those of Black Rank as akin to deities.
“Is this young master a reincarnation of Lu Dongbin...?”
Someone murmured. Even the name of a legendary Taoist immortal was invoked.
Standing nearby, Cheongmyeong smirked and nudged Jeong Yeon-shin, while Baek Mi-ryeo added her own teasing comment.
Their playful grins brought a moment of levity. Though many seniors had changed their attitudes toward him, the camaraderie of Ma Gwang-ik's faction remained the same.
In retaliation, Jeong Yeon-shin jabbed Cheongmyeong’s bruised abdomen with his elbow and flicked Baek Mi-ryeo's shoulder.
The seniors yelped in protest, their laughter echoing faintly.
Amid the light-hearted banter, the leader of the Iron Clan stepped forward.
“Please, tell us what you desire. We’ll repay you in any way possible.”
Without hesitation, Jeong Yeon-shin replied.
“A prosthetic arm.”
“...Excuse me?”
“I’ve heard that Dharma’s energy was forged into a treasure here. Could you craft a prosthetic arm powered by internal energy? I’ve been told this place is filled with miraculous equipment.”
The grizzled elder with a bushy beard brightened slightly.
“Yes, it’s possible,” he replied, though they couldn’t begin the task immediately.
Even among their group, there were many injured. The conflict between two of the most powerful factions in the martial world had left its mark.
Fragments of energy waves had caused wounds, and many had lost limbs or suffered grave injuries.
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“Not a single person is unscathed.”
The Tang Ga-ju clicked his tongue, casting a complex gaze at Jeong Yeon-shin while surveying the devastated land of Myeonggondo with a sorrowful look.
“We’ll need to find healers outside. Everyone, follow me,” he ordered.
Preparations were necessary. The bodies of fallen comrades were gathered, and urgent wounds were treated with hastily applied Gold Soothing Ointment.
Jeong Yeon-shin bowed his head and offered a silent prayer over the bodies of his seniors.
In that moment, the boy sensed something—a gaze.
The Light Wheel embedded in his heart pulsed faintly. The presence was familiar yet unsettling.
‘This feeling...’
He turned his head, looking far up at the stone wall of the cavern.
What he saw was a slender figure with crimson eyes gleaming like gemstones, framed by flowing black hair.
The Seventh Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult.
Her black robes, lined with the signature Pureblood Robe, fluttered in the gusts of the cavern.
She winked, her red eyes glinting mischievously.
“And what do you want?”
The boy muttered under his breath.