The Tang Clan’s courtyard fell silent for a moment.
“...”
What Jeong Yeon-shin said was true. It was a devastating sight.
The last black-tier master the Tenfold Gate could summon had fallen.
Unable to settle the grudge for her cousin So Jinrang or her lover, Dokgo Gwang.
Swish.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly released his grip.
Leaving the Ipwang Sword lying on the ground, he used both hands to carefully lower Yeo Juha’s body.
To her, Jeong Yeon-shin was a sworn enemy. Yet she had done him no personal harm.
As a warrior, she had challenged him, and he chose to honor her as a warrior in return.
He picked up her spear and laid it beside her. Yeo Juha bore no personal grudge against him.
Her face, now with her eyes closed, appeared peaceful.
Jeong Yeon-shin had used his internal energy to relax the muscles that had been stiffened by shock.
Tap!
Someone from the Tenfold Gate rushed forward—a young man with a strong, upright posture.
He appeared to be about ten years older than Jeong Yeon-shin. His robe was similar to Yeo Juha’s, though in a blue hue.
“Sister... Sister...”
He murmured in a daze, his expression vacant.
He seemed to be her junior disciple, addressing her as a fellow student under the same master. His attitude toward his elder female senior was one of profound respect.
Even in his grief, his sharp gaze darted toward Jeong Yeon-shin.
It was a look that suggested he wanted to tear him apart. Jeong Yeon-shin silently bore the weight of that gaze.
The young man’s reaction, filled with pain and anger, was not surprising. Anyone in his shoes would have reacted the same way.
‘If I were to lose Cheongmyeong or Baek Senior like this...’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself. If he were in that young man’s position, he would have attacked without hesitation.
With that thought, he reached out and extended his hand downward.
The Ipwang Sword floated up on its own and landed in his grip. It was the suction technique of Mancheon Hwawu.
The blade’s energy lingered warmly in his hand, still radiating the heat from the fierce battle.
“Hah...”
The young man, who had been cradling Yeo Juha’s body in his arms, flinched.
For a moment, he must have mistaken the technique for the legendary Sword Control by Qi. Embarrassed, he turned red and quickly carried Yeo Juha’s body away.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently sheathed the Ipwang Sword.
“Master Jeong!”
The Tang siblings approached him simultaneously, moving swiftly with their martial agility.
Holding pieces of fine blue silk, they hurried to clean the bloodstains from Jeong Yeon-shin’s robes, stained with Yeo Juha’s blood.
‘What is this?’
Their servile behavior, taking on such menial tasks, made Jeong Yeon-shin uncomfortable. He pushed their shoulders back with both hands.
The Tang siblings, Tang Ryeo-ryeo and Tang Yuhwa, stepped back obediently, their expressions curious.
The sight reminded him of a white cat that used to sneak into his household to steal leftovers.
‘No, that cat was more arrogant.’
A fleeting thought, devoid of significance. Jeong Yeon-shin shook off the memory of his junior Shin Sobin’s nickname, the White Cat.
As he pushed the siblings back and raised his head, a voice came.
“Your technique to dismantle her fist arts was impressive. It seems you’ve studied counter-techniques for martial arts in this sect. There’s evidence of malice in the precision of your dismantling.”
The voice was deep and calm, and its owner approached slowly from the front.
A middle-aged man clad in brilliant white armor stepped forward, his steps resonating heavily.
Jeong Yeon-shin knew instinctively that the armor wasn’t for protection.
It was ceremonial attire—a symbol of authority, meant to convey the importance of the Lord of the Tenfold Gate stepping forward personally.
“...”
Still, there was no energy radiating from him.
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate stopped ten paces away. His towering frame cast an imposing shadow.
One of his ears appeared to have been severed by a sword, giving him a fearsome yet dignified appearance—a warlord who had seen countless battles.
Even without revealing his energy, his presence seemed to carve itself into the very air.
Yet his eyes were gentle. His pupils, like those of an ox, glimmered with a deep black light.
It was eerie. Jeong Yeon-shin was reminded of the same aura he had seen during the Jeong Clan massacre, when he encountered the Lord of the Blade Specters.
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate spoke slowly.
“If you devised that dismantling technique on your own, then you are truly a genius bestowed by the heavens.”
Despite the death of one of his sect’s masters, his tone was calm. His expression, too, remained placid.
What kind of martial artist was this man? His demeanor raised questions befitting a peerless master.
There was no trace of emotion in his words. It was impossible to discern his thoughts.
‘Still... it doesn’t seem like he knows my curse.’
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate showed no sign of perceiving Jeong Yeon-shin’s unique constitution.
So far, only three individuals had been able to discern it upon first meeting him.
The Lord of Ipwang Fortress, the Zhongnan Sword Sage, and the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps... Perhaps the difference lay in their martial level or the nature of their cultivation techniques.
‘Regardless, he’s a purple-tier master. Letting my guard down would be foolish.’
As Jeong Yeon-shin tightened his grip on the hilt of the Ipwang Sword, the Lord of the Tenfold Gate suddenly smirked.
Looking past Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder, he shouted.
“Tang Unhwang! How far you’ve fallen! Hiding behind the back of a mere boy, is this truly the best you can do?”
“Is that supposed to be a provocation?”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice was steady as he spoke, surrounded by petals of steel floating in the air.
A few paces behind him, Tang Unhwang extended his hand, activating one of his clan’s secret techniques.
Whooooosh!
“...”
For a moment, a heavy silence fell over the courtyard. Only the whirlwinds of Tang Unhwang’s energy disturbed the stillness.
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate’s smirk grew broader, his amusement evident. It seemed he was on the verge of breaking into boisterous laughter.
“Mancheon Hwawu!”
After chuckling briefly, he spoke again.
“Yes, I’ve heard the rumors. Incredible feats occurred on the Main Road of Myeonggondo. The events were so unbelievable that I had to consider them true. You’ve even restored the lost secret techniques of the Tang Clan. And all this was achieved by the hands of a young prodigy raised by the imperial hounds.”
“I expected you to be more reticent.”
Jeong Yeon-shin replied, lowering his stance and resting his hand on the blade.
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate ignored him and continued.
“Enough of that. There is a more pressing matter. To think that the events in Myeonggondo would end in failure... Was it you who seized the Dharani Treasure?”
“The Blood Flame Cult took it.”
Jeong Yeon-shin lied effortlessly, his thoughts briefly turning to Hyeon Won-chang and Tae Yeom-ryong’s faces. It was surprisingly manageable.
However, the Lord of the Tenfold Gate didn’t seem convinced. Perhaps it was his years of experience in the martial world.
“Enough. I’ll search the Tang Clan and the Ipwang Branch myself. Know this: I will kill anyone who stands in my way.”
“Let’s run.”
Tae Yeom-ryong whispered, appearing at Jeong Yeon-shin’s side. But Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t respond.
He simply unsheathed the Ipwang Sword and raised it to the middle guard.
The wind brushing against the blade seemed to split in two.
Having easily defeated Yeo Juha, Jeong Yeon-shin was still in peak condition.
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate approached without drawing his weapon, his expression an unsettling mix of calm and menace.
“I’ll kill you even if you don’t resist. Thanks to you, my sect has fallen into ruin. Now, as I plan its reconstruction, I will ensure I claim a fitting price in blood.”
Snap!
Jeong Yeon-shin listened no further. He couldn’t afford to give the first move to a purple-tier master.
Behind him, Tang Unhwang’s Mancheon Hwawu reacted swiftly.
The moment Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword strike emitted its faint light, the petals of steel around him surged forward, striking alongside him.
“Excellent. Truly excellent!”
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate bellowed with laughter. His steps carried an air of absolute dominance as he advanced.
The surrounding atmosphere trembled as if an earthquake had struck.
His eyes had already caught sight of Jeong Yeon-shin’s Palm Technique of the Clear Stream, previously executed during the fight.
Among the Divine Arts, its sheer force stood out. It demanded immense concentration, evident in the half-closed eyes of its wielder.
When combined with Mancheon Hwawu, the synergy was exceptional.
If an enemy were struck by both the storm of hidden weapons and the flowing martial arts technique, even a master of the Thirteen Heavens wouldn’t escape unscathed.
The Lord of the Tenfold Gate focused intently on Jeong Yeon-shin and the Mancheon Hwawu.
And then it happened.
Crack!
A pale face emerged from behind the Lord of the Tenfold Gate, as if signaling the end of the battle.
It was a stunningly beautiful man.
His pure white hair gleamed as it fluttered, and in the blink of an eye, the Blood Flame Cult leader’s fangs unleashed an overwhelming surge of energy.
It happened in an instant. The moment the wave of energy erupted, his fangs sank into the nape of the Lord of the Tenfold Gate.
Hraaah!
The agonized scream of a peerless master echoed through the air. It was an unbelievable sight.
The Blood Flame Cult leader’s crimson eyes gleamed as he bit into the nape of the Lord of the Tenfold Gate.
The terrifying crimson hue deepened with each passing moment.
Blood Cultivation. Absorption Technique.
He exploited a gap in the master’s defense, driving in like a beast rather than a man.
The speed of absorption from his fangs was extraordinary. The energy flow of the Lord of the Tenfold Gate visibly dwindled.
Heh heh heh...
A chilling laugh escaped from the Blood Flame Cult leader’s mouth, as though rising from the depths of the abyss.
The atmosphere around them froze.
Anyone witnessing this scene would be struck with utter disbelief.
The Blood Flame Cult leader didn’t waste the opportunity.
Still clamped onto the nape of the Lord of the Tenfold Gate, he unleashed a massive surge of energy from his soles.
Boom!
The force exploded from the Yongcheon acupoint in his foot.
With the Lord of the Tenfold Gate in his grasp, he shot skyward as if flying, faster than the eye could follow.
The storm of steel petals from Mancheon Hwawu scattered chaotically, caught in the swirling energy.
A muffled sound of disbelief escaped from Tang Unhwang, standing behind.
‘The Blood Flame Cult Leader... he’s buying time for his absorption.’
Jeong Yeon-shin quickly assessed the situation. If left unchecked, things would escalate into something catastrophic.
His entire body tensed, muscles contracting as the energy of the Radiant Wheel coursed through him.
As he stimulated the acupuncture points under his hips (Seungbu Point), the backs of his thighs (Eummun Point), and the soles of his feet (Yongcheon Point), Jeong Yeon-shin borrowed the movement techniques of Cheongmyeong.
“Stop him!”
“Block him with your bodies!”
Simultaneously, crimson figures rushed at Jeong Yeon-shin. Not just one or two—there were several.
Taking advantage of the confusion that demanded his full attention, these reinforcements had arrived carefully and deliberately.
Ten Blood Flame Cult swordsmen suddenly charged forward. Their goal was clear: to buy time for their cult leader.
Unable to ascend, Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes glimmered with icy resolve.
‘Radiant Sword Style...!’
The Ipwang Sword flashed. He exerted his full strength, gripping the sword’s hilt as the bright blade swept in a crescent arc.
The internal energy concentrated in his triceps and biceps burst out explosively.
The sweeping slash sent waves of destruction through the air, shattering bones and tearing flesh as it went.
Fwoosh!
“Don’t get any closer!”
“Consider the Taesa equal to a high apostle!”
With a single strike, three Blood Flame Cult swordsmen were cut down, their bodies collapsing to the ground. The aftermath of the slash caused even greater damage.
Injured cultists clutched their abdomens and stumbled backward, blood spilling from their wounds.
Groans and spurts of blood echoed from all around.
Jeong Yeon-shin grabbed at his left chest as he prepared to leap forward again.
The intense spinning of the Radiant Wheel technique had strained his heart. It felt as though his chest was being torn apart.
At the same time—
Ahahahahaha—!
A maniacal laugh resounded. It seemed as though the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s elation was spreading in waves across the area.
Even the energy in his voice was immense.
Had he already absorbed the Lord of the Tenfold Gate’s energy completely?
It was an incredible level of energy manipulation, even for the leader of a demonic cult.
Standing atop the roof of a pavilion, the Blood Flame Cult Leader casually discarded the Lord of the Tenfold Gate’s body.
He didn’t spare a glance at the lifeless figure as it fell helplessly to the ground.
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The Grandmaster of Blood Cultivation. The Lord of the Blood Flame Cult.
His slender face bore a smile that radiated an alluring malevolence.
Standing with his feet together, surveying his surroundings, his noble posture exuded an air of dignity.
His refined demeanor gave the impression of a Beijing aristocrat.
‘The gathering of Ipwang Fortress, the Tang Clan, and the Tenfold Gate... He used it as a sacrificial altar to enhance his martial arts.’
Though the cult leader’s arrival was foreseen through Elder Tang Tae-duk’s warning, Jeong Yeon-shin hadn’t expected such a dramatic entry.
Now he understood why peerless masters were likened to natural disasters.
In an instant, the Blood Flame Cult Leader had intervened, wiping out Jeong Yeon-shin’s formidable opponent.
It was a vivid reminder of the vastness of the martial world’s hierarchy. Even the Lord of the Tenfold Gate, a master of the Thirteen Heavens, was overpowered.
‘This is the realm of absolutes. The pinnacle of martial arts.’
Jeong Yeon-shin knew there was no chance left.
At that moment—
A gust of wind brushed past his cheek, as if waiting for this precise moment.
A flowing robe of purple suddenly filled his vision, blocking his sight.
When had he arrived? A warm voice called his name.
“Yeon-shin-ah.”
“Grandfather...?”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes widened slightly. A stately old man stood before him, his back turned to Jeong Yeon-shin.
The man’s white hair, unlike the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s shimmering strands, was coarse and dry, swaying gently in the breeze.
“Only now do I understand how different our times are, my boy.”
The old man’s voice was heavy, tinged with sorrow.
His words took Jeong Yeon-shin by surprise—his grandfather had discerned his unique condition.
“I had hoped to spend more time speaking with you... but the flow of fate does not align with my wishes. Chasing the Blood Flame Cult Leader and refining the Jeong Family’s Dynamic Gong has brought me to this moment.”
“...!”
“Yeon-shin, this is the first and last time we meet. I am ashamed.”
Ma Yeon-jeok’s calm voice resonated like a soft echo.
“Etch this lesson into your eyes, my grandson. You’ll need the fruits of the Heavenly Tree. I will show you the realm you must eventually reach. You, of all people, will surely attain it one day.”
“Ma Yeon-jeok, you pitiful old man. Yet you remain my rival. You managed to track me down after all.”
The Blood Flame Cult Leader grinned, looking down from his vantage point.
The dramatic entry of these two peerless masters seemed to be the result of a prolonged chase.
What twists and turns had unfolded during their pursuit?
For the first time, Jeong Yeon-shin found himself facing a situation entirely beyond his control.
He could only gaze silently at his grandfather’s back.
Woong.
Ma Yeon-jeok lowered his hand diagonally.
A treasured sword, appearing as if from thin air, now rested in his right hand.
Unlike the ethereal, dazzling formless blade of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, this was a straightforward and pure white blade.
It was unmistakably Bowol, the famous sword Ma Yeon-jeok was known to wield.
And yet, it exuded a similar aura.
Its power felt as though it could bear the weight of the entire martial world—a force to be reckoned with across all under heaven.
“Yeon-shin, from this moment on.”
The old man in the purple robe finally spoke, his voice brimming with a fierce vigor, as though borrowing his younger self’s strength for a moment.
Between the wrinkles of his lips, his words rumbled like a lion’s roar.
“Behold the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.”