“Where are the two rabbits heading?”
The voices of a man and a woman swept through the dense thicket like the wind. Their sound waves extended outward, sending ripples through the air with martial energy.
The vibrant green leaves of the evergreen trees shivered in unison, shattering the tranquil silence of the mountain slopes.
Their voices were ominous.
“Do disciples of a fallen sect have any place to rest?”
The voices, a duet of male and female tones, merged into a sinister melody. Laced with a mocking undertone, they resembled wildcats toying with their prey.
The ridicule echoed repeatedly.
Their finely-honed martial sound arts were being used for provocation and pursuit. The distant taunts even reached the woman carrying a sword.
Her jet-black hair, adorned with a feathered ornament, fluttered urgently—a rare sight for someone of her composure.
Tap.
Dew burst from the ground underfoot as she leapt, the branches beneath bending like drawn bows to absorb the impact of her step. The droplets caught in the turbulent energy shattered into a fine mist that dissipated into the fog.
The branches, momentarily pressed down by her weight, rebounded as if lashing out in protest at being trampled. Yet, the owner of the leather shoes, reinforced with blue fabric, was already slicing through the mist, ascending into the sky.
Her movements flowed seamlessly.
The hazy mist wreathed the evergreens like silk, their coordinated swaying accompanied by faint cracking sounds. The intruder’s leaps, imbued with an imperceptible martial energy, caused branches to tremble as she passed.
This was Wei Ji Myo-hwa, the foremost prodigy of Shaanxi, hailed as the Cloud Dragon of Zhongnan.
“They’re getting closer.”
She carried Jeong Hye in her arms as she sped forward, splitting through the trees using the secret Zhongnan footwork technique, Chuk-un Beop (Pursuing Cloud Method).
Despite cradling a child, her movements felt like walking on air. Yet, her urgency was betrayed by the tension in her steps.
The faint orange glow of dawn crept into the mist-laden valleys.
They were in the mountainous region of the Qinling Range in Shaanxi.
The ridges stretched endlessly, and so had the chase.
The terrain, an extension of Zhongnan Mountain, was vast and treacherous. It resembled the myth of the titan Pangu lying prostrate, with streams snaking through the valleys like his lifeblood.
Wei Ji Myo-hwa had crossed multiple cliffs surrounding the streams, yet she hadn’t managed to shake her pursuers.
She was not of the famed Ming family, after all. There were limits to how much she could suppress her presence while using her martial footwork. Even as the Sword Dragon of Zhongnan, reputed as the strongest among Shaanxi’s young swordsmen, this disadvantage remained.
Her enemies were far from ordinary.
“Brilliant Sound Demon Twins.”
These were renowned experts from the Thirteen Heavens, Yeoryeong, assisting the Blade Specters.
They excelled in sound-based martial arts, a pair of ruthless twin siblings.
Together, they had reached the ranks of seasoned experts. While Yeoryeong was known for stealth and secrecy as a faction of the Daebang Sect, the Brilliant Sound Demon Twins stood out due to their flamboyant sound techniques, which possessed a twisted elegance.
Their exposure made them akin to military field commanders, constantly in the limelight.
“Where are the two rabbits going?”
Another burst of sound waves struck. The energy surged forward like a gust of wind, brushing perilously close to the hem of her blue robes. The foliage behind her quivered as though struck by invisible hands.
The voices seemed to burrow into Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s mind with increasing intensity. The twin voices carried a martial spell’s power, as if large, unwelcome chunks of foreign matter were lodging themselves in her consciousness.
This was a sinister martial sound art.
The power seemed capable of influencing the mind, a terrifying ability often used against assassins or hidden swordsmen.
“I can’t let it touch us.”
She needed to get as far away as possible. Allowing the energy waves to make proper contact would reveal her exact location.
Once pinpointed, escape would be impossible. The combined sound arts of the Brilliant Sound Demon Twins were techniques even elders of the Nine Great Sects dared not underestimate.
Wei Ji Myo-hwa bit her lower lip, the sharp pain jolting her back into focus.
The child in her arms, Jeong Hye, clenched her eyes shut. She was a young girl, her downy lashes quivering in distress.
For now, she remained conscious. Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s martial energy encased her ears, shielding her from the invasive sound waves.
This was Jeong Hye, granddaughter of the Jeong Household head and niece to the legendary Ma Gwang-ik.
She had endured the destruction of her sect twice at a young age.
Even after joining Zhongnan, she had sought out Jeong Yeon-shin far more than the sect master, Jeong Jung-san. Her exceptional martial talent had earned her techniques directly from the Sword Immortal, yet her disposition remained kind-hearted.
Many disciples adored her, and even when she was granted status equal to that of the sect leader as a disciple of the Sword Immortal, no one begrudged her.
Jeong Hye honored them all, going so far as to break tradition by referring to them as “Sajil-nim” in secret rather than using a more authoritative title.
She had even extended this courtesy to Wei Ji Myo-hwa.
“I must protect this young Sajil.”
Determination sharpened Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s beautiful gaze. Her conviction was as steely as the blade she wielded.
Tap.
Kicking off from another branch, Wei Ji Myo-hwa solidified her resolve.
“The Sword Dragon of Zhongnan is said to be fierce, but it seems there are many who’ve only witnessed her running like a rabbit. Perhaps ‘Running Dragon’ suits better than ‘Sword Dragon.’”
“Now, we’re starting to get a lock on her presence. Don’t you think it would be wiser to drop the child now? Even if she’s the disciple of an old Zhongnan master, isn’t she just an illegitimate brat?”
“Not illegitimate. She’s blood-related to Ma Gwang-ik, isn’t she?”
“Then Ma Gwang-ik must be illegitimate too. Don’t contradict your elder sister.”
The taunts of the Brilliant Sound Demon Twins continued relentlessly.
“I can’t even tell where we are anymore.”
Wei Ji Myo-hwa thought to herself.
The nearest major sect was Mount Hua.
However, the Yeoryeong martial artists of the Daebang Sect wouldn’t allow a collaboration between Mount Hua and Zhongnan. Yeoryeong had secretly blocked the roads leading to Huayin County and the nearby mountain paths even before the Blade Specters launched their surprise attack on Zhongnan.
The combined forces of two factions from the Thirteen Heavens had been overwhelming.
The Blade Specters had cut down Zhongnan disciples with ruthless precision, while the Yeoryeong martial artists formed an impenetrable trap.
Wei Ji Myo-hwa had no choice but to change course toward the southwest—toward Yangyang in Huguang Province.
That was the region where Ma Gwang-ik, the Lord of Suncheon, resided.
If the niece of a figure as prominent as the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps was in danger, even Ipwang Fortress would intervene, regardless of their official stance as a royalist faction.
Wei Ji Myo-hwa hoped that the clandestine network of Ipwang Fortress would relay the situation to Ma Gwang-ik.
“Even borrowing aid from lesser sects would only lead to more casualties.”
The journey wasn’t a short one—it would take a day or two at best.
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But it had to be done.
Buzz.
She channeled energy into the Yongcheon Acupoint on her soles, minimizing the flow of her internal energy to avoid detection. Her strides grew longer as she accelerated, the wind whipping against her face. In her arms, Jeong Hye’s lips moved faintly.
“Sajil-nim...”
“We’ll be fine.”
Wei Ji Myo-hwa silently reassured her with a soft smile.
At that moment—
“Huh? Isn’t that... Hey, sister, doesn’t that one look familiar?”
“Strong swordswoman, ghastly gray hair... It’s the Sword Specter of Simmuryun.”
The voices of the Brilliant Sound Demon Twins rang out. Their words, as always, carried martial energy.
The unruly martial artists of the Thirteen Heavens often upheld their egos through such childish displays.
“A noisy melody drew me here... Did I hear something about illegitimacy?”
A new voice echoed, deeper and more resonant, overpowering the twins.
The person blocking their path seemed no less temperamental than the twins themselves.
Wei Ji Myo-hwa recognized the name: Baek Seo-goon, the Sword Specter of Simmuryun. A fearsome expert of sword control.
She did not stop running but strained her ears to listen as the conversation unfolded.
“What are you chasing?” Baek Seo-goon asked plainly.
“That’s none of your concern,” replied Jin So-joon, the male twin, with a dismissive tone. “We’re in a hurry. Step aside, and perhaps I’ll compose a fine melody for you someday. You seem worthy of such an exchange.”
“Exchange? We don’t have time for this!” snapped Jin So-ryeong, the sister, her sharp voice piercing the air. “Interfere, and this will be taken as a declaration of war against Yeoryeong! The Blade Specter Lord has already ascended Zhongnan Mountain—you should know that!”
Baek Seo-goon’s reply was calm yet threatening.
“That’s not my concern. I asked you something just now. Did I hear you call her illegitimate?”
His voice deepened, turning ice-cold.
“If you intend to pass without answering, prepare for your bodies to be split in two.”
The chilling threat halted even Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s steps momentarily.
***
Wonpyeong Ilgeomjang
Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze swept across the expansive interior. This was his second visit.
The first had been when he was formally entrusted with duties by his uncle, Ma Jin. Now, he entered as a full-fledged commander (Daeju), stepping across the threshold with full authority.
This was the uppermost echelon of Ipwang Fortress.
The domain of the true commanders.
A peculiar sense of reflection washed over him.
Seated around the circular stone table were individuals of unparalleled power. The air itself was dense with an oppressive tension, the atmosphere charged by their controlled martial energy. Each of these individuals exemplified the might of the greatest faction under heaven.
Their energy rippled faintly yet densely, like tautly drawn strings. The room felt stifling, as though the very air had been compressed.
Present at the table were:
The Grand Overseer, Im Jin-myeong, murmured quietly from one side of the round table.
Six supreme martial masters in black.
No other warrior, no matter how renowned, would dare to approach this gathering unless they were the Fortress Lord of Ipwang himself.
For the Grand Overseer, this gathering was the culmination of an old, grand ambition.
To gather such a force in one place and use it to crush the rival factions. If the world were only a little smaller, he might have attempted it already.
“If the martial world weren’t so vast... if the Central Plains weren’t riddled with so many cracks like a leaky jar...”
There was no doubt about the power amassed here.
Black-clad supreme masters were the decisive weapons of any faction war. Unless something like the Thirteen Heavens allied against them, victory was nearly assured.
But the forces of Ipwang Fortress could not act on such ambitions anymore. They had already experienced the backlash.
Once, the fortress had emptied several of its branches and assembled five elite units under the Divine Sword Corps.
The result had been overwhelming, but the repercussions were catastrophic.
It was an event of long-standing infamy.
“Impossible now.”
The Grand Overseer reflected on the past, shaking his head internally as he observed the round table before him.
The six supreme masters sat at intervals, their presence radiating an oppressive force that prickled the skin.
Previously, five of them had convened when the Pa-Baek Chongram was to be unveiled.
Even then, the resonance of their collective energy had been astounding. But now, with a new commander added to their ranks, the intensity was even greater.
Commander of the Ma Gwang Corps, Seomye.
Jeong Yeon-shin sat quietly, his finely sculpted jawline slightly tilted downward as though lost in thought. His youthful face bore an air of detachment, his expression serene yet unreadable.
His black longcoat, with one sleeve conspicuously missing, somehow complemented his demeanor.
“A man who breathes through martial arts alone.”
The Grand Overseer smiled in satisfaction.
A commander-level supreme master was not easily found. Warriors of such skill typically established their own factions or styled themselves as sovereign rulers.
The departure of the previous Commander of the Ma Gwang Corps had been a devastating loss, but his nephew had stepped in seamlessly to fill the void. It was both astonishing and deeply gratifying.
Even just watching them converse was enough to lift one’s spirits.
“Ma Gwang Commander, I’m not trying to rush you, but... I must ask carefully: the Pa-Baek Chongram? Your hands seem empty.”
“It’s far from complete.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s curt response caused Hahoe Wi-jin’s brow to lift slightly. His uncharacteristically flustered expression caught the Grand Overseer’s attention.
It was rare to see anyone address the Commander of the Heavenly Forest Corps so bluntly. What had transpired to lead to such a casual demeanor?
“Do you have that much to write?”
“There is much to be done.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s response was concise once again.
He had come prepared, having taken to heart Ak Su-rim’s advice.
This place was a battlefield.
Recruiting newly minted warriors from the Ipwang trials, overseeing promotions for subordinates, acquiring suitable missions, assigning them—all of it demanded focus.
The annotated version of the Pa-Baek Chongram was not a priority. After all, the original was already in the possession of the Fortress Lord of Ipwang.
The black-clad veterans likely had all the instructions committed to memory. Annotations would be unnecessary for them. It was a given.
“This is not a place for seniors or juniors,” Ak Su-rim had told him.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a pang of guilt for his grandfather, who had likely heard about his absence from the Ma Gwang Pavilion. But he pushed the thought away.
“He’ll understand soon enough.”
For now, he had to focus on fulfilling his duties as a commander.
His expression shifted, growing cold and stoic, as it often did during his time in the martial world.
The seasoned black-clad commanders, including Hahoe Wi-jin, interpreted his attitude differently. The boldness of the young Ma Gwang Commander conveyed one message clearly:
"If you need me, act accordingly."
Thus, the meeting of the commanders of Ipwang Fortress began.