‘The Black Seniors...?’
Jeong Yeon-shin rotated the luminous wheel of his heart.
The Radiant Wheel Technique surged upward in a subtle stream.
It passed through his solar plexus, ascending to the Fengchi Acupoint (located where the meridians of the nape and the area below the ears converge), intensifying his internal energy.
The surrounding veins sharpened the sensitivity of his neural pathways—a method of honing auditory perception.
Sounds entering through his ears amplified.
Even amidst the growing cacophony, the conversation of the black-clad figures was faint. Only by intensifying the spread of the Radiant Wheel Technique could he finally capture their words.
It seemed that as soon as Hahoe Wi-jin, the Heavenly Forest Division Master, had shouted, they had erected a barrier of internal energy to mask their voices.
Hahoe Wi-jin had only raised his voice with internal energy once.
After that, the voices were merely spoken aloud. Within the sound-blocking Qi Curtain of the division masters, only Jeong Yeon-shin could overhear their exchange.
Through the refined resonance of the Radiant Wheel Technique, the faint voice of a young woman reached him.
“...Are you out of your mind? How could you just blurt out the name of the secret manual like that?”
Few in this world could chastise the Heavenly Forest Division Master so boldly.
This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.
It was undoubtedly the voice of Ak Su-rim, the Spear of Ipwang Fortress. She appeared to be running alongside Hahoe Wi-jin. A gruff query followed her rebuke.
“What’s the issue?”
“I know you’re not stupid, so why act like it? The name itself is the issue. Now it’s like waving a red flag at the White Vein sect, daring them to react!”
“It’s a well-chosen name.”
“And anyone with half a brain could figure out what it implies. How can you be so dense, you big oaf? Are you insane?”
“I simply dislike hiding things. This is the sort of knowledge that should be widely shared. There’s a stark difference between maintaining grace and being overly cautious. If one fears external powers and keeps silent, isn’t that a betrayal of our Black Sect’s dignity?”
“You’re out of your mind. Do you realize what might happen if this gets exposed? Stop glaring like a bear and start seeing the situation clearly, like a wise fox! You think just being good at the Secret Mental Arts makes you invincible?”
“I can handle it. The Divine Sword Corps is strong.”
“And what about when a dozen purple ranks and scores of black ranks come for us? Do you even understand the scale of what you’ve triggered? The factions in question aren’t ones you can simply brush off, even at the level of a large alliance.”
“You overestimate the Eight Noble Clans and their household leaders. A dozen purple ranks, you say?”
“Can you stop this pointless argument and read the room? Am I wrong? If you could single-handedly defeat even one of the Noble Clan heads, I’d take your side. But how likely is that, given everything we know? And don’t forget the roaming masterless warriors of unmatched skill.”
“The Seventeen Greats of the Divine Sword Corps, united—”
“Even three purples were almost too much for us in the past. And honestly, have some sense. If the fortress abandons the livelihood of its people, then it ceases to be Ipwang Fortress.”
“......”
“You’re impossible. You let your pride erode your sense of caution. If you die on a mission, it’ll be because of this exact reason, mark my words.”
“I have a plan. And this isn’t something that should remain exclusive to the Black Sect. Rather, elevating the fortress as a whole—”
“What’s the point of risking exposure and strengthening only the righteous sects? Do you think the Thirteen Heavens will just sit by? Keeping this within the Black Sect is the only reasonable approach. Honestly, look at you, arguing back like a stubborn child. Acting unilaterally without discussion—it’s pure madness!”
“Where in Ipwang Fortress’s Grand Martial Arena have you found any black rank who actually listens seriously to my words? Most would dismiss me outright. And speaking of your ‘fifty moves’—that doesn’t quite align with my recollections.”
“What?”
“Didn’t I manage at least sixty moves?”
A derisive laugh echoed.
“And is your short breathing technique supposed to be something to boast about? Your inefficiency is what makes you second-rate!”
“Let’s end this. It’s already done. Heavenly Forest Division Master acted recklessly. There will be consequences. Thankfully, it’s the dead of night.”
The voices, heated and argumentative, gradually drew closer.
By the time Yun So-yu, Master of the Yullyeong Division, spoke in her melodious tone, three figures came into view.
They emerged directly opposite the main gate of Ma Gwang-ik’s Pavilion.
Each figure moved with their own distinct rhythm.
Fwoosh!
Ak Su-rim leapt with a light, nimble stride, while Yun So-yu’s steps were so graceful they left no sound, exuding elasticity.
By contrast, Hahoe Wi-jin’s movements were awkwardly weightless, as though he had not yet mastered the lightness technique. Even to a seasoned eye, his steps seemed hesitant, revealing his ongoing efforts to train under Jeong Yeon-shin’s guidance.
Despite their deliberate pace, they were still black ranks. The moment their forms entered sight, they closed the distance rapidly.
The blue ranks of Ma Gwang-ik’s Pavilion, who had been standing in a defensive posture, withdrew behind Jeong Yeon-shin toward the gate.
Cheongmyeong and Baek Mi-ryeo, their blue robes brushing against the shoulders of their leaders, stepped forward.
Even Pung Ran and Na Il-cheon, who had accompanied the Blood Guard, instinctively aligned themselves with Ma Gwang-ik’s group.
In that moment, the three division masters arrived.
A strong gust of wind swept through. Jeong Yeon-shin’s hair fluttered back slightly.
“Greetings, seniors.”
Jeong Yeon-shin offered a composed bow, his gaze studying the three figures.
Earlier, Hahoe Wi-jin had mentioned Pa-Baek Chongram, a martial compendium.
Apparently, this was the culmination of efforts at the Grand Martial Arena—a revealing of a meticulously crafted manual.
Curiosity piqued, Jeong Yeon-shin wondered if the contents had been insufficient.
‘Come to think of it... I also broke through the Bo Defense Technique of the Shandong Ak Family,’ he mused.
He recalled Ak Ye-rim, the spear maiden of Changbong. Once betrothed to the Azure Qilin, she had offered Jeong Yeon-shin an apology upon their farewell.
If she was Ak Su-rim’s niece, then perhaps some of her techniques would also apply to dismantling Ak Su-rim’s martial arts.
At that moment—
Step.
Ak Su-rim landed directly in front of him, flashing a grin.
“Our little Seomye is becoming more striking by the day, isn’t he? Your hands and feet are always in motion; you’d better firmly grasp the concepts of alignment and balance. You do know that the spacing between experts can mean life and death, right? Even the smallest margin changes the efficiency of an explosive strike.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
“As if you don’t already know.”
She gave a light wave of her hand.
At that moment, a massive silhouette loomed over Ak Su-rim’s crown.
Under the bright moonlight, Hahoe Wi-jin’s towering frame was striking. Even his shadow exuded an overwhelming presence.
A figure standing seven cheok tall, known as the Great Wall of Ipwang Fortress, he was regarded as a Divine General, a protector descended by divine will upon the mortal world.
His presence was a testament to his moniker, Heavenly Power Strength God. His time in the Black Sect far surpassed Ak Su-rim’s.
“How do you look at things and think that way?”
He suddenly posed the question. Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly and replied succinctly.
“Pardon?”
"It seems you haven't trained in the Absolute Methodology, yet your insight and ideas are remarkable. To think that someone your age could create such a thing with your own hands. Even I, who trained in my clan's Absolute Methodology, lack such finesse."
"You're too kind."
"I only skimmed through the first few chapters before coming here. Now, first—"
Whoosh.
As Hahoe Wi-jin dragged out his words, a colorless ripple emanated from his body.
It grazed across Jeong Yeon-shin's skin, faintly forming a hazy barrier. The manifestation of true qi—a semi-visible Soundproof Curtain in the shape of a hemisphere.
Only someone with immense mastery of internal energy could construct such a precise technique.
Even the way his true qi was sustained reflected the state of Jing-Qi-Shen—the harmonious integration of essence, energy, and spirit.
"Let’s go inside. There are matters to discuss among the division masters."
"Pa-Baek Chongram? What exactly is—"
The external sounds grew distant, fading entirely alongside the murmurs of the blue-ranked masters of Ma Gwang-ik's Pavilion.
The space was now completely sealed.
Within the barrier stood Ma Gwang-ik, Yun So-yu, Hahoe Wi-jin, and Ak Su-rim.
It was a boundary that separated the dignified black ranks from everyone else. The faint hum of energy testified to the immense depth of an absolute master’s internal strength.
Even with the accumulated power of Jeong Yeon-shin’s Radiant Wheel Technique, such a feat remained beyond his reach.
It was a reminder of the noble lineage that shaped these individuals. Their decades of cultivating True Qi Refinement stood on a different plane.
‘If I rotate the Radiant Wheel for another year without rest, maybe I can catch up. But that’s still a long way off,’ Jeong Yeon-shin mused, silently marveling.
Hahoe Wi-jin glanced down at him with a peculiar expression.
"Let’s start by discussing the Thirteen Sword Steps of the Mo Yong Clan’s Tianling Sect. The counter-method you wrote for it seemed brief."
His deep voice carried a palpable heat.
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the Tianling Sword Division Master, whom he had crossed blades with during the Opening Martial Tournament of the Murim Alliance.
That swordsman seemed to bear some grudge against Ipwang Fortress. Representing the Mo Yong Clan, he had schemed to tarnish Jeong Yeon-shin’s reputation.
The attempt had been absurdly transparent. Naturally, he was defeated by Jeong Yeon-shin’s superior sword techniques.
‘Their swordsmanship had a hidden depth. It won’t be as easy the next time we meet,’ Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
“Back then, he nearly met his end at the Tianling Sword Formation,” Ak Su-rim interjected, her tone teasing. “Apparently, he tried to take on thirty swordsmen from the formation by himself, just to protect his subordinates.”
Smirking, she added, “He’s lucky he didn’t die. If someone hadn’t lured the Tianling Division Master away, he’d be in the afterlife by now. Honestly, not many of your seniors here are what you’d call ‘normal.’ Maybe just Yun So-yu and me.”
Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his lashes slightly, feigning ignorance of her provocation, while inwardly feeling a renewed gratitude for his late grandfather’s measured demeanor.
“The essentials were sufficiently recorded,” he stated calmly.
Hahoe Wi-jin’s stern face shifted slightly, his voice resonating with authority.
“You’re not wrong. The essentials are there. But there are nuances that only the author of the manual could understand. For instance, when breaking the Mo Yong Clan’s rigid sword stance, you mentioned directing true qi at the lower horizontal stroke of the character ‘冗’ (Yong). You advised adding an additional thirty percent strength to the lower stroke—why was that?”
“The Tianling Sword Formation’s structure was inherently insidious.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke with deliberate composure.
“The shape of the internal energy surrounding the arms and the sword path was peculiar. Its qi structure had distinct strengths and weaknesses. Using a stabbing strike with concentrated force could exploit the weak points in their flow. Of course, if one relied on luck to target those areas, it could work. But for stable combat control, luck isn’t enough. By calibrating the dispersal of shockwaves into two strokes, victory becomes much more secure.”
Slowly, Hahoe Wi-jin fell silent.
His thick brows twitched ever so slightly. For a moment, the typically unreadable expression characteristic of Ipwang Fortress’s division masters flickered with something else.
With his hair swept cleanly back, the shift in his demeanor was stark.
For a few seconds, none of the division masters spoke—neither Ak Su-rim nor Yun So-yu.
The weight of realization hung in the air.
The author of the Pa-Baek Chongram, the counter-manual for dismantling the Tianling Sword Formation, was indeed their junior.
The owner of the manual.
A rookie black rank who had already accomplished feats surpassing those of many veterans. It was no ordinary achievement.
Though Jeong Yeon-shin’s cumulative contributions might not yet compare to those of the seasoned division masters, the magnitude of his singular accomplishments set him apart.
Such an extraordinary junior might no longer be just a promising subordinate but a future rival.
He was sprinting alongside them on the path toward the Purple Robe, and it was unclear who would reach the finish line first.
Hahoe Wi-jin finally spoke, his voice rough, as if to suppress his astonishment.
“You should take on something big next. A mission requiring collaboration between two Martial Forces.”
His tone was gruff, and his expression carefully neutral, but his words betrayed a sense of internal conflict.
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly. Why?
“Anyway, let’s return to the topic of the Thirteen Sword Steps.”
Hahoe Wi-jin shifted the conversation back nonchalantly.
“You explained the structure of the qi flow and adding thirty percent to the lower stroke. But if overwhelming internal energy was enough to solve the problem, there wouldn’t even be a counter-method. The key lies in how to distribute the total qi. There were gaps in your explanations. Understandable, given how busy you’ve been.”
“Is that why you came here?”
“Is it not important?”
“I didn’t consider it. Isn’t that basic knowledge? The annotations lacked space, and in actual combat, it’s enough to adjust as needed—”
The moment Jeong Yeon-shin finished speaking, he noticed the subtle changes in his seniors’ expressions.
Their faces were akin to those who had been woken up from sleep by an unexpected challenge.
For a brief moment, he faltered.
‘Is there a problem?’