“The sword of the heart... your winds are excessive.”
The Master of Sunmaren repeated the Lord of Ipwang Fortress’s words with a chuckle.
Her jet-black martial robe billowed in the wind, its dark fabric rippling like shadows, emanating an aura that seemed enshrouded in hellfire.
The final obstacle before returning to Ipwang Fortress was immense and formidable. As the last challenge of this mission, the master of Sunmaren herself emerged as an unsolvable conundrum on the path through Sichuan.
Her demeanor grew increasingly composed.
Hiss—
With a soft hiss, steam from the Sammae Purification Flame wafted from her body, carrying away the bloodstains on her abdomen. A faint burning smell, discernible only to seasoned experts, lingered in the air.
It was clear where the source of the injury lay. The burn extended from her ribs to her pelvis—evidence of her earlier encounter with the Moon Spirit Divine Sword technique of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.
This was no ordinary wound that could be stanched with acupoint sealing. Instead, she had cauterized the long gash on her abdomen, effectively stitching it closed through sheer force of will.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes widened slightly. This improvised solution, relying on extraordinary control over both body and energy, was a hallmark of a supreme martial artist.
Impressive.
Even the faint grin that spread across her lips as she lightly bit down was remarkable. Despite her delicate features, her presence exuded leonine majesty.
A true master of the demonic arts. The impromptu measures taken by the Master of Sunmaren during this duel proved she was indeed the head of an unorthodox sect.
She finally spoke.
“The rumors of the Ipwang Fortress Lord’s martial prowess reaching the heavens have circulated throughout the land for ages. But I didn’t expect someone of your kind to be among their ranks. Tell me, child.”
Her gaze lowered, her striking blue eyes shimmering with an icy, enigmatic light as she smiled at Jeong Yeon-shin.
Her tone and the sheer audacity of her words underscored her uninhibited nature.
“If I had been your Sago, I would have taken you and taught you myself. A true master should wield both strength and words to navigate the turbulent world of the martial arts. Your teacher must be so lofty and dignified they lack even half your ability in verbal sparring.”
(Sago, a term denoting a senior female figure in one’s martial lineage, akin to an aunt within the sect.)
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Her demeanor reflected how freely she flouted conventional martial etiquette.
“Speaking of lofty teachings, it’s astonishing to see a senior talk so flippantly about the affairs of the martial world.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s retort was sharp as he raised his sword stance. His intent was evident as he continued with deliberate sarcasm.
“The side effects of demonic arts truly intrigue me. Your cranial meridians seem extensively blocked. Does your martial path include methods for narrowing the energy channels? If so, I might even consider taking you as my junior.”
“...”
The Master of Sunmaren remained silent. As the leader of the Thirteen Heavens, her status was unmatched.
Her provocative words flowed freely, but she refrained from responding to perceived discourtesies. To her, such exchanges did not befit her dignity.
“Foolish,” Jeong Yeon-shin muttered, launching another verbal jab at the sect leader.
Both Hyeon Won-chang, who stood beside him, and Tae Yeom-ryong discreetly shifted their stances. They braced for the possibility of her attack turning in their direction.
“It seems our interim leader has no fear of an untimely demise. I find that unsettling. Am I the odd one out here?”
Unfazed, Jeong Yeon-shin quietly circulated his energy. A faint tingling sensation coursed through his chest—the rotating energy of the Radiant Wheel Technique.
To resolve this situation while preserving Ma Yeon-jeok’s life, they needed to end the Master of Sunmaren decisively without her clashing with the Ipwang Fortress Lord’s swordsmanship.
This seemingly calm standoff demanded a wise and precise approach.
Ssss.
The Master of Sunmaren’s body began to emit an extraordinary energy wave. Had she bought enough time?
In contrast, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress stood quietly, her gaze fixed on a distant forest.
If no decisive move was forthcoming, Jeong Yeon-shin was prepared to throw his blade and stall for time.
“My defensive arts are still lacking. How can I counter the supreme masters’ transcendent void steps?”
The thought lingered, a lesson carried forward from his battle with Ma Yeon-jeok and the Bloodflame Cult Leader.
As Jeong Yeon-shin contemplated his next move, the answer came unexpectedly.
“It is done.”
The Lord of Ipwang Fortress finally spoke. Moments after she uttered the phrase Sword of the Heart, her emerald-green sleeve rippled gently.
She stepped forward like an illusion, her movements fluid and graceful, and raised her sword in a soft, upward stroke.
The strike seemed aimed at the Master of Sunmaren, who hovered midair using her Transcendent Void Steps. The sword’s arc glimmered faintly—a subtle and unassuming move.
At first glance, it seemed meaningless.
Swish!
But it wasn’t.
From where Jeong Yeon-shin stood, he heard an imperceptible sound. It reverberated faintly in his mind, an echo that seemed to slice through his very consciousness.
Was it the sound of something being severed? Or the sensation of witnessing the impossible?
The Master of Sunmaren gasped audibly. Her midnight-black hair scattered wildly, and her previously steady body wavered in the air, dropping suddenly by nearly three meters.
If she fell three more, she would enter the range of Jeong Yeon-shin’s blade technique.
His eyes gleamed as he gripped the hilt of his sword, its white aura illuminating the air.
But before he could draw, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress’s second strike followed.
Flutter!
Her flowing garments shimmered in hues of green as her blade descended from above, an elegant motion bordering on a dance.
The ethereal glow of her sword extended outward like radiant starlight—a transcendent move unlike anything seen before.
The blade struck directly, shattering the Master of Sunmaren’s dark inner armor and scattering fragments of light across her abdomen.
Her movements froze mid-air as her outstretched hand faltered.
Boom.
The faint sound of colliding energy echoed solely within her body. The shockwave embedded entirely within her frame, as though the sword strike had pierced her essence itself.
Wow.
A silent exclamation of awe escaped Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind. He had never witnessed such an impeccable sword technique in his life.
Even compared to the earlier Sword of the Heart, this was far more breathtaking.
Then—
Boom!
The Master of Sunmaren’s body, plummeting toward the ground, erupted with immense energy. Midnight-black currents surged around her, radiating waves of oppressive power.
Her vitality flared fiercely, her form ascending sharply as she forced her energy to surge anew.
It was reckless—a move that could lead to inner turmoil. But it was enough for her to escape.
“It’s over,” Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
The Master of Sunmaren swiftly turned her trajectory upward, her form disappearing from view as she fled the battlefield.
“The Master of Sunmaren is retreating!” Hyeon Won-chang shouted, his voice brimming with exhilaration as he raised both hands.
Her retreat was decisive, her parting words echoing faintly:
"I will not forget this day!"
The voice of the Master of Sunmaren echoed, her figure now a distant silhouette in the horizon.
Even as she retreated, she seemed acutely aware of Jeong Yeon-shin, who still held his sword stance steady. She had never dared to enter the range of his blade.
“I need to find a way to counter her Transcendent Void Steps and Air-Walking Techniques,” Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself, his mind lingering on this unresolved challenge.
This was the kind of homework destined for the boy who was soon to formally ascend to the Black Rank.
Despite invoking the name of Baek Mi-ryeo and retreating in defeat, the state of the Master of Sunmaren did not seem pitiable. She remained an elusive, nearly insurmountable grandmaster of the demonic path.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently vowed that if they were to meet again in the future, he would stand as a fortress lord himself, ready to face her as an equal.
“The Black Rank’s domain is vast. It will surely surpass that of Blue Rank. If I had possessed the skill and the Radiant Wheel Technique wielded by my uncle or the Myeolseom Corps Commander, I might have been able to confront her effectively. Perhaps mastering the Three Flowers Converging at the Crown should be my next step.”
As the boy collected his thoughts, a clear, melodic voice broke the silence.
"We need to check on Ma Yeon-jeok."
Crunch.
The Lord of Ipwang Fortress approached slowly, moving toward the three carriages where Jeong Yeon-shin and the others stood guard.
She didn’t glance back at the retreating figure of the Master of Sunmaren. Nor did she show any intent to pursue. Her focus remained calm and deliberate.
She seemed unwilling to act recklessly without knowing the exact state of Ma Yeon-jeok. The Master of Sunmaren, after all, was little more than a sect leader from the outskirts of Sichuan in her eyes.
Her demeanor alone revealed a world beyond what the young Jeong Yeon-shin had experienced in his arduous journey through Sichuan’s martial world.
"You protected me."
The fortress lord spoke softly as she passed by Jeong Yeon-shin.
The faint scent of fresh grass tickled his nose, her voice carrying a trace of lighthearted amusement.
It was truly over.
The final obstacle on their mission’s return journey had crumbled at last.
***
After the Master of Sunmaren’s Retreat
The Lord of Ipwang Fortress entered the carriage to check on her old comrade’s condition.
A protective veil of energy encased the carriage, forming an ethereal spectacle. The faint moonlight seemed to weave into silken strands that wrapped around the space.
The scene was almost transcendental.
It was impossible to discern the conversation taking place within.
“They say witnessing the duels of supreme martial artists alone is enough to drain one’s spirit,” remarked Hyeon Won-chang.
“Let’s take a moment to rest, Interim Leader,” added Tae Yeom-ryong.
Their dynamic was peculiar. Though seemingly distant, Hyeon Won-chang was subtly attentive to the reactions of Tae Yeom-ryong, a nameless disciple. Meanwhile, Tae Yeom-ryong nonchalantly reclined, chewing on an opium poppy with an air of carefree indifference.
Amid this, no one paid attention to the Junior Sword Marquis and his group, who stood quietly to the side.
“Rest,” Jeong Yeon-shin commanded, spreading his sensory perception outward.
Even with the Lord of Ipwang Fortress present, he couldn’t afford to lower his guard. He had to embody the demeanor of a leader.
“When I was back at the fortress, I carried myself well,” he recalled.
At the time, he had greeted the administrative officers with poise, confident in his ability to navigate such encounters. Now, with the fortress lord overseeing everything, he needed to display a trustworthy image to earn her favor.
“Merit... achievement...”
A sense of relief washed over him. The safety of his maternal grandfather, his greatest concern, was now assured.
“Look at our young leader. He fits the role better than most actual leaders,” teased Oh Wol-hyang, a senior Blue Rank warrior, her jest directed at both Jeong Yeon-shin and Ma Jin.
The boy shook his head slightly, dismissing the comment.
Meanwhile, Ma Gwang-ik and the other seniors who had been in the carriage exited one by one, settling in various spots. Cheongmyeong climbed into a tree, while Ma Jin fixed his gaze on the carriage containing Ma Yeon-jeok, where the fortress lord had entered.
Only Baek Mi-ryeo remained unseen.
The Master of Sunmaren had called her “sister,” and Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t think it was an empty claim. Baek Mi-ryeo had also cultivated demonic arts, and their physical resemblance was undeniable. However, Ma Jin and the other seniors showed no signs of surprise—they had likely known all along.
“They said they brought Senior Baek from Xinjiang. During that time, my uncle was gravely injured.”
Xinjiang was where the Bright Sect of Xinjiang had once flourished. The sect’s lineage, associated with the Heavenly Demon, had fractured with the founding of the Ming Dynasty. Some had moved to Sichuan and became Sunmaren, while others wandered Xinjiang, attempting to rebuild their sect or resorting to banditry.
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the map briefly revealed by Geukwol Sword of the Ten Front Sect. The man had claimed it marked the tomb of the Heavenly Demon. It seemed connected to Baek Mi-ryeo.
Just then, a voice broke his train of thought.
“You seem preoccupied.”
It was Ma Jin. He had left the carriage and was now seated beside Jeong Yeon-shin, his legs slightly bent, with his heels brushing the sand softly. Despite missing an arm, he maintained perfect balance.
“You shouldn’t worry about Mi-ryeo. Not yet, at least. Perhaps after you’ve ascended to the leader’s rank. For now, it’s unnecessary meddling.”
“That’s true,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied, nodding slowly in quiet agreement. There were already enough pressing matters to handle.
His ascension to the Black Rank, the formation of the Martial Alliance, and the grand Martial Alliance Tournament—these immediate concerns left no room for distractions.
Ma Jin chuckled softly.
“As soon as we return tomorrow, there’ll likely be a leader’s meeting. They’ll probably discuss your Black Rank ascension. The future of Hwanik Corps and Ma Gwang-ik will also be decided then.”
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded silently, while Ma Jin’s expression turned slightly somber.
“The seventeen division leaders of the Divine Sword Corps have strong personalities. There will be challenges.”
“What kind of challenges?”
“Hwanik Corps is the issue. The warriors in your line were gathered from the seventeen divisions that didn’t deploy. If their organization changes, do you think the other leaders will sit idly by? They might not recognize your authority.”
“...”
“They’re all rare elites and skilled commanders in their own right. While they aren’t inherently bad, many are eccentric. You’ll need to stay on guard.”
Ma Jin’s advice was measured and calm.
After a moment of silence, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke with resolve.
“I need to master the Sword of the Heart. By tomorrow, I’ll request it from the fortress lord.”