The Simmuryun forces had split into two groups.
The Western Peak Road and the Sevenfold Gorge.
They weren’t far apart—only three days' travel using light-foot techniques.
‘Based on the information from the Sword Saint and circulating rumors, the Sword Demon of Yongcheon definitely wields power befitting a grandmaster of a major faction. He’s mine to face.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought carefully.
If it were Tae Yeom-ryong, he might stand a chance by relying on sheer luck. But it would cost him his life.
Allocating their members required meticulous consideration.
Tae Yeom-ryong absolutely had to separate from Jeong Yeon-shin. The sheer energy reserves granted by his Sun Meridian Vein were staggering.
Even if Jeong Yeon-shin’s internal energy was denser, Tae Yeom-ryong surpassed him in quantity. His qi detection range was bound to be enormous.
If the group that Jeong Yeon-shin wasn’t part of encountered the Sword Demon, Tae Yeom-ryong would serve as the ideal scout, detecting and retreating without engaging.
“I understand.”
Tae Yeom-ryong nodded lazily after hearing Jeong Yeon-shin’s explanation, a smirk playing on his lips.
He seemed to think he’d been entrusted with a task that befitted the dignity of a Hwangbo clan scion.
The boy wanted to correct that misunderstanding. Tae Yeom-ryong exuded an innate smugness, even just by breathing.
Jeong Yeon-shin was desperately clinging to survival, while Tae Yeom-ryong lived as though he had all the time in the world. It was a little enviable, to be honest.
“Follow the hierarchy.”
Jeong Yeon-shin said.
“Ah, so the Nameless shouldn’t overstep the Whites, is that it?”
Tae Yeom-ryong shot a glance at Hyeon Won-chang, who stood tall, clearing his throat as if to maintain decorum.
Meanwhile, tension was brewing between Gongsun Min and Mo Yong-myeongjun.
“I’ll hang it in my room and brag to Eon Mae about it.”
Gongsun Min hummed the words like a tune, staring at the sword still strapped to Mo Yong-myeongjun’s waist as if it were already his, grinning as though their deal was sealed.
They were the sons of aristocratic clans. Some kind of arrangement had likely been made.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t care what it was.
The thought of using a sword once for battle only to turn it into a collector’s item was absurd, though no less strange than the antics of the Seven Killers.
“We’ll divide the groups as follows.”
The boy began explaining calmly. He proposed to group himself with Zhuge Hyeon and the Small Sword Queen.
Then he suggested that Hyeon Won-chang and Tae Yeom-ryong lead a group consisting of Mo Yong-myeongjun, Gongsun Min, and Ahn Yelim.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s pitch-black eyes scanned them briefly.
None of the Martial Assembly warriors flinched under his gaze, though most instinctively twitched their dominant hands.
“At the edge of life, I’m seeing all sorts of things.”
Tae Yeom-ryong curled his lips into a smirk. The scion of the Hwangbo family guessed at their hidden thoughts.
He found it intriguing—how he might appear to this incomprehensible young master.
A genius recognized as such by his peers, Jeong Yeon-shin’s mere gaze could unnerve lesser fighters.
The strides of a martial artist, the depth of their breathing—these were laid bare by the eyes of a true prodigy.
Even the finest young martial artists, praised as the best of their regions, were no exception.
But Jeong Yeon-shin wasn’t concerned.
“Do not engage the Sword Demon.”
The young Ma Gwang-ikju instructed. It was a warning not to recklessly draw their swords out of misplaced pride. His tone wasn’t condescending.
His expression and voice were so composed that no one could retort.
Then, a long arm raised into the air. Ahn Yelim lifted her hand and stared at Jeong Yeon-shin.
“I don’t understand. We’re already at a disadvantage, outnumbered. Why split up further?”
“To cut down the Sword Demon quickly. That’ll minimize casualties among the villagers. It’ll also make wiping out the disorganized remnants of Simmuryun easier.”
Hyeon Won-chang shook his head, speaking with a lazy drawl.
He was no less irritating than Tae Yeom-ryong. Ahn Yelim raised her eyebrows and replied sharply.
“That’s not the only reason, is it?”
“You’re perceptive.”
“What? Speak plainly. Don’t mock me.”
“There are just over ten days until the Sect Tournament. It’s too risky to keep fighting masters in remote areas. But it’s also unsettling to spend too much time out here.”
Hyeon Won-chang scowled and pointed a finger accusingly.
“Your Assembly’s deputy commander played games during our audience with the Daeju. That wasn’t enough? You gave us Yunhyang Pavilion as quarters and had the gall to leave us in such a precarious spot—one where we couldn’t even safely meditate at night! I wouldn’t put it past some madman from your Assembly to attack!”
“...That was a disgrace. I’ll admit it. But?”
Ahn Yelim, her lashes lowered slightly, replied in a calmer tone. Hyeon Won-chang’s lips curled upward.
“We can’t keep staying apart like this. How can we trust what your Assembly might be plotting? What’s to stop you from suddenly changing the rules of the Sect Tournament? Or accelerating the schedule?”
“What?”
“Imagine if your Assembly wanted to stop our Ma Gwang-ikju from claiming victory. Who knows what you’d try?”
“The Martial Assembly doesn’t resort to such tactics. It’d be the laughingstock of the entire martial world.”
“Who’s to say? Better than letting the world see your Assembly’s experts fall one by one to the young lord of Ma Gwang-ikju.”
“...”
“That’s why time is of the essence. Do you understand now, Lady Ahn? Oh, pardon me—Small Lady. Don’t mind the title. Our Daeju calls even the Cloud Sword Dragon a Hero, but I doubt your stature matches his.”
Hyeon Won-chang spoke with characteristic wit, earning him the nickname “Tongue of Ma Gwang.”
Jeong Yeon-shin silently thought about whether Tae Yeom-ryong and Hyeon Won-chang could both ascend to the Blue Rank together.
He approached and patted Hyeon Won-chang on the shoulder, ensuring Ahn Yelim wouldn’t draw her spear in anger.
“We’ll split here.”
“Yes, I’d say the Daeju has a streak of bad luck.”
Tae Yeom-ryong slung a bag over his shoulder and remarked casually.
“You might bump into the Sword Demon as soon as you arrive. I mean you, not me. Considering the rumors about his Yi Gi Yu Geom, he’s probably monstrously strong. Don’t rush into single combat. Always keep an escape route when facing a hostile master.”
“A novice’s advice.”
Jeong Yeon-shin acknowledged the point with a simple statement. Tae Yeom-ryong grinned, amused.
“Survive, and I’ll come find you. If the Western Peak Road is west, the Sevenfold Gorge should be northwest.”
“Subtle way of asking for backup. The Sword Demon is mine. Don’t overdo it.”
The boy replied.
As sunlight filtered through the smoke rising all around, the group split outside the ruined village.
Their steps carried them in pursuit of the marauding forces of Sima Odo, fanning the flames of chaos in these troubled times.
Though no one seemed to be watching, the entirety of the Martial Assembly's leadership was undoubtedly paying close attention to their every move.
Thud!
As the young masters struck the ground with their light-foot techniques, a gust of dust swirled into the air. The lingering resentment of the villagers ran deep.
Leaving behind the eerie, lifeless village, a surge of determined wind spread across the land.
The warriors, armed with multiple weapons strapped to their backs and waists, raced forward like avenging spirits.
***
The headquarters of the Martial Alliance was abuzz with festivity.
The bangmun (announcements) plastered across the central plains were proving effective. It seemed that martial artists from across the world of Jianghu had received word of the Alliance’s formation. The sheer number of people pouring in was staggering.
“What a shame. They say the young master from Ipwang Fortress clashed with the Ascendant Dragon of the Jegal clan. If only I’d arrived a month earlier.”
“Don’t mention that so carelessly. Rumors say Alliance experts are everywhere in the markets. One wrong word, and you’ll find yourself in trouble.”
“Why is that?”
“They say the young master from Ipwang Fortress wore a black robe. You’re from Nanjili, aren’t you? You must’ve heard of the nickname Seomye, haven’t you?”
“Of course! Are you saying...?”
Wealthy merchants and even commoners, drawn by the promise of rare information, were flocking to the area. As food supplies dwindled, the value of martial strength grew. Those with power could command gold and provisions alike.
It was clear the Martial Alliance was destined to surpass Ipwang Fortress in strength and influence. The gathering of half the martial world had turned this Menghui (Alliance meeting) into a golden goose, laying the groundwork for unmatched prosperity.
The influx of individuals from every corner of Jianghu filled the Han region to the brim. Inns and private residences around the headquarters were overflowing. Tavern lights never dimmed, day or night.
Martial enthusiasts, scribes crafting tales of duels, and martial artists without enough renown to gain entry to the Alliance’s inner circle had all gathered. Voices debating the fate of Jianghu resounded throughout.
Even compared to Ipwang Fortress, the scale was unparalleled. Dozens of merchant caravans had arrived with the intent of establishing a foothold in the Han region. Few were indifferent to the upcoming Sect Challenge (Gaepadaejeon). In a time of famine, the ability to secure even a single grain of rice could determine survival.
Inside one of the rented taverns, the conversations of merchants filled the air.
“Is it true we common folk can watch the Sect Challenge this time?”
“I believe so. Unlike you, I can read quite well, you know. If what’s written on those announcements is true, we’ll be allowed to watch the Martial Alliance in action.”
“Oh, marvelous! Perhaps we’ll find some capable warriors to hire after seeing them for ourselves. Though I doubt we can even dream of recruiting the truly exceptional ones who’ll dominate the Challenge...”
“I’m more interested in observing how they wield their blades. If I can learn to spot true skill and assess the overall atmosphere, it’ll save me from being cheated when hiring wandering warriors in the future.”
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“I should take note of that as well.”
“Word is, even Ipwang Fortress’s experts will be participating as delegates. That’s something worth keeping an eye on. If Ipwang sets the stage with an impressive showing, who knows how the balance might shift? It could divert trade routes away from this Han region to Ipwang’s seat in Yangyang.”
“Hmm, perhaps. But don’t forget that this is the Martial Alliance’s domain. It’s no secret the Jegal clan, long established in this region, forms the backbone of the Alliance. Do you think they would’ve invited Ipwang Fortress without a plan to win? They must have their calculations.”
“True, but the rumors about Ipwang’s young prodigy are hard to ignore.”
“I’ve heard them too. I’ve gathered information even from Sichuan. If we’re talking about likely candidates to win, it’s got to be the Seomye (Rock King of Huazhong), Ungajeilkwon (Ung Family’s First Fist), or the Sword Sage of Huashan. The elders likely won’t participate, after all.”
“Wait, are you saying the leader of the Plum Blossom Swordmasters has come down from Huashan? That venerable swordsman? Incredible! Could it be an attempt to curb the dominance of the noble clans?”
“If you had to bet, which side would you back? Personally, I’d wager on Ung Hwaran of the Ung clan. It’s the safest bet. The Jegal clan will probably pit Seomye and the Sword Sage against each other first.”
“Hmm... Truly a tough choice.”
The Han region had become the epicenter of upheaval, a place where the established order of Jianghu was being rewritten.
***
Four Days Later
Jeong Yeon-shin traveled alongside two companions: Seonryong Jegal-hyeon and Changbong Ak Ye-rim.
Initially, Jeong Yeon-shin had intended to include So Geomhu, but she ended up joining the group led by Heon Won-chang and Tae Yeom-ryong.
This adjustment was made by Jeong Yeon-shin after considering the overall balance of power between the two groups.
So Geomhu would likely be more helpful than Ak Ye-rim’s spear techniques. Heon So-hyeop and Tae Yeom-ryong need to survive.
The decision was made as the leader of Ma Gwang, a position that required balancing the power dynamics of the split group. Including So Geomhu would amplify Tae Yeom-ryong's abilities.
Before Jeong Yeon-shin created the Neungbeop Gwangryun-gi, even he struggled to achieve a 60% win rate against Tae Yeom-ryong. With So Geomhu in their ranks, the group heading to Chiljung Gorge should be capable of dealing with the high-ranking masters of Daebangpa.
Tae Yeom-ryong, though merely a disciple of no renown, possessed exceptional talent. However, the difference in years of experience between them was vast.
During the Yongbong Gathering, Jeong Yeon-shin had barely outperformed him through superior instincts alone. Even after significant growth, Tae Yeom-ryong remained a formidable opponent. It wouldn’t have been surprising if, in a series of ten matches, Jeong Yeon-shin lost three or four.
There were simply too many variables in combat.
From the sequence of techniques to the alignment of strengths and weaknesses, the flow of internal energy, and the subtle changes in body mechanics, the world of martial arts masters was extraordinarily intricate.
Tae Yeom-ryong has an infuriating knack for provocation. If I ever face him again, I’d already be conceding half a step just to keep my composure.
These thoughts flitted through Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind as he glanced briefly at Ak Ye-rim, whom he had swapped in for So Geomhu. It was a good decision for Heon Won-chang’s group.
So Geomhu was often compared to Wi Ji-myo-hwa, a renowned swordsman. Rumors claimed she had mastered the Sahil Sword Technique to its zenith.
If she could harmonize with Tae Yeom-ryong, Heon Won-chang, and the other martial artists, their group might even hold its own against top-tier masters.
“What are you staring at?” Ak Ye-rim glared back at him.
Jeong Yeon-shin nonchalantly replied, “You’re a good addition.”
“What in the world...!” Ak Ye-rim stammered, startled by his bluntness.
Without paying her any further attention, Jeong Yeon-shin continued walking. Their destination had come into view.
It was Seobong Road, a route cutting through the heart of central Hanzhong.
The path stretched wide and open, with neatly cleared vegetation on either side. The mountain ranges flanking the road were visible in their entirety.
Rather than a proper road, it appeared to be an improvised encampment, meant for armies, caravans, or escort services to rest for the night.
Tents dotted the well-trodden ground, lending the area an air of vigilance.
Scattered sentries could be seen patrolling. Unlike typical martial artists, these individuals were clad in leather armor—a clear indication of their affiliation.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes narrowed.
He didn’t need to speculate further to know the answer. This was the military force of Sim Mu-ryeon.
“It seems they’ve established an outpost here,” observed Jegal-hyeon, withdrawing a steel fan from his belt as his eyes gleamed with concentration.
He activated one of the secret techniques of the Jegal Clan. His gaze sharpened as he scrutinized the camp, an extraordinary aura emanating from him.
Was he looking directly into the tents?
A mysterious energy seemed to gather behind Jegal-hyeon’s fine eyes. He had infused his inner energy into the Dongjaryo Acupoint near his eyes.
It was an exceptional technique, bordering on the mystical.
An optical art...
Jeong Yeon-shin’s interest was piqued. He spoke slowly.
“Summarize what you see. Let’s end this quickly and move on.”