A fleeting afterimage of pure white light passed by. The wind, once as fierce as a typhoon, scattered away.
There were no screams. The silence only deepened further.
In the open field of Seobong Road, thirty-nine bodies were added to the scene. Along with the stench of blood that had stained the underbrush a dark red.
It was a sight that did not immediately feel real. This was because those who had perished were elite warriors from the martial forces of the Simmuryun, highly respected in their time.
"......"
A cold, chilling silence filled the air.
All of them had fallen to a single strike of the sword. Every corpse bore the same straight, unerring line of a wound.
Short, decisive battles usually involve a situation where the disadvantaged party attacks the relatively unprepared enemy. But in this case, it appeared as though a swordmaster of unmatched skill had made quick work of them.
If we were to compare it to the rankings of Ipwang Fortress, it would be a mixture of both blue and white, a collective of high-ranking warriors.
Screech.
The young swordsman, standing resolutely at the center, slowly sheathed his sword. The rustling of his dark sleeve could be heard as he did so.
The black-clad warrior of Ipwang Fortress. He was the sole expert of this realm, a lone figure among the chaos. The youthful Ma Gwang-Ikju, the one who exuded an eerie, chilling aura, presided over the moment.
Jeong Yeon-shin and Ak Ye-rim were left speechless.
“Was that just a technique that extended from the sword itself? The trajectory of the strike was odd, almost unexplainable. It couldn’t have been a mere sword maneuver; there must have been something more profound involved...”
“What was that? What exactly happened?”
It was truly staggering. Even though they had witnessed countless sword techniques through the Martial Alliance, nothing had prepared them for this.
It didn’t feel like the stroke of a mere human sword. It felt as though some peculiar, almost otherworldly energy had joined the technique, something akin to the powers wielded by legendary families and their mysterious capabilities.
Swordmasters who had reached such a domain were rare beyond comparison. This was a level of mastery only previously known to them in theory.
The "King of the Namgung Clan’s Sword" had once stood alone at the pinnacle of martial art mastery.
Even the renowned swordmasters who could freely manipulate the wind with their swords could not break free from the might of the King’s sword techniques.
Ma Gwang-Ik was now a living legacy of the first Namgung master.
He wasn’t just another swordmaster. He had transcended.
“Ma Gwang-Ik follows in the footsteps of Qing Qilin, but also breaks free from that lineage...”
Jeong Yeon-shin could not help but feel as though he were staring at the heir to a legendary martial technique.
This was no ordinary opponent. Ma Gwang-Ik had positioned himself as an immortal rival, someone who would only rise further in power.
Tap.
The sound of a fan opening rang out, and Jeong Yeon-shin was calmly observed by Jegal Hyun, who had been silent up until this moment.
Was he simply gathering his thoughts? The young swordsman lowered his head, placing his hand on the sword’s hilt.
A middle-aged man, dressed in black and lying at his feet, appeared stunned. He seemed unable to comprehend the sword techniques even as he lay dying. Perhaps he only realized, in his final moments, that he had been an insignificant underdog all along.
“I have now woven the first strike.”
The young boy muttered quietly as his eyes opened.
It was an unnecessary statement to make. His overflowing energy had naturally drawn out the martial prowess within him.
For a moment, Jegal Hyun thought his ears had deceived him.
“Did he just say he wove it?”
To say that this was a newly created strike meant that it was a technique that belonged to a realm of god-like strength.
It seemed impossible unless one were the reincarnation of a mythical figure like Bodhidharma or Zhang Sanfeng.
The thought that this boy might be the incarnation of the first supreme disciple of a divine sect crossed his mind.
Ak Ye-rim also wore a skeptical expression.
The boy paid no mind to their reactions.
Bang!
With a single movement, he stamped his foot into the ground, sending a powerful vibration through the air.
An unexpected burst of energy launched him forward at incredible speed, with Jegal Hyun and Ak Ye-rim hastily chasing after him.
“Do you think that the Youngcheon Sword Demon is heading towards the Seven Traps?”
Jegal Hyun asked, but Jeong Yeon-shin did not even turn to look, merely nodding in response.
"The man in black... he was pretty strong. It was a senior member of the Simmuryun who was left to cover their retreat.”
"If he hasn’t appeared yet, then it’s clear...” Jegal Hyun’s expression darkened, anxiety creeping into his thoughts. He could not help but worry about the safety of Mo Yong-myeongjun and Gong Sun-min.
Gong Sun-min was beloved by many in the Martial Alliance for his bright and kind nature, a favorite among the majority of their warriors. The idea that he might be killed was unsettling. Additionally, the aftermath of such a death would certainly lead to chaos within the Alliance.
Jegal Hyun also felt a certain unease about his father. The cold and calculating nature of his father, the head of the Jegeal family, had long weighed on him. His father’s strict adherence to the larger picture had overshadowed his childhood, leaving him feeling distant.
Only a sword master could keep a man like Jegeal Ga-joo in check, but now, after this incident, he feared it might cost him dearly.
He could only hope that luck was on their side.
“We must trust in Tae Yeom-ryong.”
Young Ma Gwang-Ik mumbled, and Jegal Hyun nodded silently.
Before the appearance of Jeong Yeon-shin, the two were rivals in the later stages of the swordmaster's field.
The sharp senses and control of the sun-derived Qi left Jegal Hyun with little choice but to believe in his strength.
"I had told them to avoid direct confrontation. If we had approached cautiously from the outside, we wouldn’t have run into trouble...”
The boy thought quietly as he bolted forward.
Whoosh!
He rushed like a storm, ignoring the pain surging within his body. The sensation of his intestines burning as he pushed past his limits.
The damage to his body was comparable to that sustained by the swordmaster from the Namgung Clan who had quickly subdued the enemy using rapid strikes and a quick breath.
He had forced himself to engage quickly, hoping to end the fight. He closed his eyes briefly after the battle, trying to ease the internal injuries.
The one who had been slain by Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword technique was presumed to be the Grandmaster of Youngcheon Sword Demon.
With each swing of his sword, he thought of his next moves, calculating the necessary steps for the upcoming conflict.
He had to end this quickly, for the sake of his companions.
He trusted in Tae Yeom-ryong’s perception.
Yet, the reality was far more difficult than he anticipated.
The ones who had survived and faced him head-on were far stronger than expected.
They were not as powerful as the legendary warriors who had hidden their true power, like Hyeon Won-chang, but the thirty strong figures he had faced were enough to be formidable.
If So Geomhwi could showcase the same level of mastery as the Demon Dragon, then escaping was a real possibility.
Perhaps it was because of their shared mastery of sword techniques, but Jeong Yeon-shin couldn’t help but think of the elite martial artists from the Namgung Sect and other famous clans.
He couldn’t help but wonder what the future would have been like if there were more individuals with such noble hearts in the martial world. The harsh years would have been more bearable.
Boom!
He increased his pace, the sensation of stone and earth being crushed beneath his feet sending a shockwave through his body.
The force was fierce. From his feet, the swirling energy of the radiance erupted, pouring out in ripples.
His companions slowly fell behind, clearly displaying the gap in martial abilities.
“No!”
Ak Ye-rim bit her lip, recalling the letter she had received from her aunt in the past.
"I’ve heard enough. Why are they calling a child ‘young lord’ at his age?" She had been baffled by those words when she heard them. Now, seeing Ma Gwang-Ik, she finally understood.
Jeong Yeon-shin was a child with the full power of darkness. She realized that there was sincerity behind the eccentricity of Ak Su-rim’s strange mannerisms.
She muttered quietly to herself.
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"I still have to see more of his character..."
A sword technique that reminded him of a deceased lover was now before his eyes. The sword, like a tribute to Qing Qilin's spirit, seemed to honor the past.
Ma Gwang-Ik's words echoed in his mind once again. He had once vowed that even if his status turned purple, he would be treated with equal respect.
I want to see more. I need to see more.
Clash!
However, Ma Gwang-Ik's black cloak did not stop its relentless advance. The speed was incomprehensible.
Only the wind brushing against the black fabric reached him. Ak Ye-rim's face, filled with confusion, mirrored the confusion in her thoughts.
At this moment, she couldn't reach out, nor could she catch up. The boy's figure moved farther away, indifferent.
“During the clan wars, I’ll definitely...!”
Ak Ye-rim’s eyelashes barely obscured her gaze. She was in no position to catch up now, so she decided to wait for a better opportunity later.
Boom!
Jeong Yeon-shin, undeterred, pressed his foot firmly against the Yongcheon Point on the ground.
He intended to repay Jegal Hyun for the enlightenment, but he didn’t look back.
“The alias for the Youngcheon Sword Demon varies depending on the region and sect. In places like Simmuryun or Hanam, he’s also called the Sword Master (劍尊)! The flow of his swordsmanship is far more seasoned than the Grand Master’s, so relying more on instinct than experience is advisable!”
The late cry of Jegal Hyun, the leader of the Sunryong Sect, echoed behind him.
Thus, two days passed.
He ran alone for two full days and nights, a feat that even surprised him.
The inner stamina gifted by the Neungbeop Gwangryun-gi technique combined with his body cultivated through Jeong Ga-donggong was truly remarkable.
His growing body, in its prime, was unmistakably accelerating toward perfection.
The boy finally arrived at a massive stone cliff, following a winding trail. He stood on a small hill, facing the fierce wind.
The black cloak of the Ipwang Fortress Master fluttered in the wind, a stark contrast to his surroundings.
His vision opened up. Below, an endless, winding ravine stretched before him, with twilight creeping across the valley.
The red dusk light seemed unusually cold.
This is it.
The boy stared ahead, noting that every peak in the distance held a strategic post.
It was tightly guarded.
The soldiers, like those of the imperial military, had even raised flags. What was the reason a mere regional lord would receive such support, close to rebellion?
Even if the royal family deemed him a traitor, it wouldn’t be surprising.
It was said that once one turned black, it was difficult to remain free of politics. It was a matter worth considering as it related to his future actions.
Now, it’s time.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not hesitate and stepped forward, ascending the nearest peak.
He reached the lowest point of the Seven Traps, where the first stronghold stood.
The wind clashing with the ravine shook five large tents. A massive stone wall rose on one side.
He had been discovered immediately. It was no surprise, as he hadn’t even bothered to hide his presence.
“An intruder. What’s this kid doing here?”
“A fool! Doesn’t he see the wild yellow flag?”
“Isn’t that the Grand Master of Ipwang Fortress...?”
“Ma Gwang-Ik! It’s Ma Gwang-Ik, the Sword Master!”
Whoosh!
A dozen Simmuryun warriors, armed with spears, appeared instantly.
They each landed swiftly, using quick reflexes to plant their feet firmly on the rocky ground.
Their coordinated movements created a powerful gust of wind, and Jeong Yeon-shin’s black cloak swirled dramatically in the air.
“The reinforcements have arrived early. And while the Sword Master is still enjoying himself,” one of the soldiers remarked with a faint smile.
“They called it right. The black warrior of Ipwang Fortress is strong enough to lead an army on his own. It means he has the same combat power as the rest of us combined.”
The soldiers in leather armor, though part of the Simmuryun forces, were originally warriors who had studied the basics of martial arts.
Their words carried a certain level of casual grace.
“Hide, young black warrior. For now, we can let you go, knowing how strong your martial arts are.”
“The Sword Master is truly a formidable high-level expert. You, a mere newcomer, won’t be able to keep up in a drawn-out battle.”
“No matter how high the fortress walls are, they can’t match the spirit of this force. The great battle surrounding this cliff, the final position, is soon...”
In an instant.
The black cloak closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Jeong Yeon-shin seized one of the soldiers by the face.
The one who had been babbling about strategy didn’t even recognize the speed of the attack.
“...!”
The moment was filled with shock and confusion.
A wave of force radiated from Jeong Yeon-shin’s palm as he gripped the soldier’s face. The peak beneath him shook violently.
The roar of the winds in the ravine reverberated through the air, aligning perfectly with his sword strike.
The swirling winds mercilessly tore apart any resistance to the soldier’s futile advice.
Whoooooooosh!
The soldiers had indeed been enjoying the power of the Sword Master, but now they felt the pressure closing in on them.
Not even a single breath was spared.
Boom!
He struck the ground with immense force, still holding the soldier’s face. With the breeze brushing against his cheek, he smashed the soldier’s head against the stone wall.
A deep, resonating tremor reverberated beneath his feet. The overwhelming power radiating from Jeong Yeon-shin’s right hand was undeniable. Fear passed across the soldier’s face.
“Please, reconsider...!”
But Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t listen. He continued the flow of the Hwanikibo, his energy building and surging toward its peak.
The blood energy from Neungbeop Gwangryun-gi and his martial power quickly reached a climax.
Jeong Yeon-shin activated his final strike.
Blue veins began to writhe across his palm, an unparalleled power erupting like lightning.
KABOOM!
With the deafening roar, the entire ravine trembled. Cracks began to spread across the solid cliff face.
The explosive power echoed throughout the valley, cascading outward in every direction.
It was Ma Gwang-Ik’s summons to the Youngcheon Sword Demon.