The mountain range was silent, eerily still.
The wind brushed through the dense foliage. Amid the jagged peaks of a canyon, there was a notably gentle slope atop one of the hills.
Blades of green grass swayed haphazardly in the breeze. Despite winter's breath clinging to the air, they remained vibrantly green, as if defying the season.
"......"
Posters had been plastered everywhere, ensuring no one could miss them.
A group that subdued the Seven Noble Clans has now provoked the Blade Specters.
This was no ordinary proclamation. It directly targeted the Elder of the Blade Specters.
The words, both polished and audacious, left readers slack-jawed. Some even hastily turned away, unwilling to linger.
Conversations buzzed throughout the region.
Most branded the act as reckless audacity.
Heaven Beyond Heaven —
That was the name for the highest echelon of Murim, which included the Blade Specters. It meant "a sky beyond the sky," symbolizing untouchable might.
No one dared to lay a hand on the paper.
The entire city of Xi’an was in uproar. The waves of interest stretched even to this peak.
"The one who swept through the Seven Clans in one fell swoop."
"How could anyone hope to contend with the Ghostblade Sword Saint?"
Spectators were plentiful.
The peaks, as if filled with military ambushes, were teeming with hidden presences. Among the rustling pine needles, faint and heavy breaths of martial artists filled the air.
It was unlike when the Seven Noble Clans faced annihilation. This time, martial artists from all corners had gathered.
Some harbored faint hope, believing merely witnessing this event might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Others anticipated seeing Ye So-hyang, once hailed alongside the Zhongnan Sword Immortal as a celestial being among swordsmen.
The appearance of an unparalleled martial artist was a rarity in anyone's life.
"There! Over there!"
"Wow!"
The moment a black speck emerged in the sky, even cheers erupted—briefly, from those untouched by the scourge of heretical sects.
The tyrannical celestial figure had finally descended. All eyes turned upward.
Hoooonng―!
A piercing sound sliced through the air, growing louder like a ghost's wail. It was as if a divine general of the heavenly realm was descending.
From the lofty heavens came a reverberation, overwhelming in its mere descent.
So loud.
Standing alone on the hill, Jeong Yeon-shin activated the radiant wheel in his core.
As energy surged from his wrists, his flowing black sleeves billowed outward.
Saaak!
From both his hands, silver threads shot out, wrapping around the nearby pine trees within a radius of ten jang (roughly 30 meters).
Dozens of strands, made from the spoils of war—the Sacred Sword's threads—twined together tightly, creating a resonating instrument using nature itself, like a divine gayageum.
Jeong Yeon-shin leaped gracefully, landing atop the golden strands. The ground beneath him vibrated faintly.
Ding―
The harmony of internal energy resonated within the threads of the Sacred Sword. The deep and resonant chime echoed throughout the forest, spreading clarity and serenity.
As the gazes, initially fixed on the skies, began to shift downward toward Jeong Yeon-shin, he tilted his head up without concern for the sunlight.
He wasn’t even aware of how mystifying his presence must have appeared.
All he did was watch.
It came into view.
Descending from the sky, stepping on a single sword, was a figure.
An old woman, her ears sharp like sword blades, radiated an aura so sharp it was almost unthinkable.
A destructive, colorless sword energy enveloped her entire body, causing the air to groan under its weight.
The sound, like a snake’s hiss, echoed continuously. It was clear why she was called the Ghostblade Sword Saint.
Her left sleeve flapped empty in the air, yet her stance was unshakable. The asymmetry typical of one-armed swordsmen was entirely absent.
It was no wonder she was a match for the Zhongnan Sword Immortal—her left Yangming Large Intestine Meridian had been severed entirely, yet she still embodied the name of the Blade Specters.
Her entire being seemed to have become one with her sword.
"Child, those words."
The old woman’s wrinkled lips moved, her voice resonating from atop the sword she stood upon.
"Did you write them?"
She did not descend fully. She remained three jang above the ground, the sword beneath her appearing like a throne.
With her hands behind her back, she gazed down at Jeong Yeon-shin. The weight of her years, and the pride built upon them, was palpable.
Jeong Yeon-shin knew.
This was someone who had once stepped into the purple domain of mastery.
If not, such an overwhelming aura despite her decline would have been unthinkable.
The sword energy emanating from Ye So-hyang naturally reached Jeong Yeon-shin’s breath.
It was sharp and ceaselessly rippling, so much so that the protective energy around his face was constantly being stimulated.
"I dictated it, and the words are true to the last. Do you find any part of it incorrect?"
Jeong Yeon-shin answered casually, not expecting much. The intuition techniques of renowned martial masters were adept at discerning truth.
Even Cheongmyeong was like that. Surely the elder of the Blade Specters would be no different. What unsettled him was Hyeon Won-chang's insistence on using his alias on the posters.
The Ghostblade Sword Saint, Ye So-hyang’s eyes glinted with fury.
"A lie. Yet..."
Suddenly, the sword she had been standing on shot upward into her grasp. It was a technique of Sword Command.
Those who flew with swords could not possibly lack the skill to command them.
Even as she held it with one hand, she remained afloat as though the sword had become her center of gravity. Her lips quivered faintly.
"You still bear responsibility."
In an instant, the sword's concentrated energy surged and formed an invisible greatsword.
The longsword she held pulsed violently. In a flash, the intangible blade arced toward another peak—toward the cluster of spectators.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s instincts screamed. One of the three ultimate techniques described by Zhuge Hyeon was about to manifest.
Chungdan Parang Sword Technique—Crashing Walls.
The air ahead distorted violently.
Kwooooom!
The energy compressed into Ye So-hyang’s sword erupted explosively. A straight slash, glowing faintly as it tore through the air, struck the middle of the distant peak.
The rock face shattered with a deafening crash. A wave of intangible force rippled outward.
In mere moments, the entire peak, which housed hundreds, was severed in one blow. Dust rose in surreal waves as the massive cut slashed down and across the mountain. Boulders and debris cascaded downward.
Kugugugung!
Screams erupted—cries born of terror and disbelief. Throats strained, voices cracking in anguish.
Resistance was futile.
It was like a natural disaster.
Some clung to uprooted trees as they plummeted into the abyss. Others, clutching to tree trunks, fell alongside the collapsing mountain.
It was chaos, pure pandemonium. Far off, the muted thud of impact echoed. In a single strike, countless lives were thrown into disarray.
The sheer speed at which it unfolded was breathtaking. Like a streak of lightning.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
"Those vermin came running, emboldened by a scrap of paper mocking their sect master. They’re no better than scavenging rats."
Ye So-hyang’s voice, raspy and old, carried a calm menace.
Even as Jeong Yeon-shin’s Sacred Sword threads brushed against her feet, she evaded them effortlessly. In mid-air, she ascended even higher.
Her longsword returned beneath her feet as though it had been waiting. The sight was ethereal.
"Eradicating the trash comes first. As for you, child..."
Standing regally on her sword, she stared coldly down at Jeong Yeon-shin.
It was the gaze of an old master who had ruled from the summit for decades. Even her slow parting of lips carried an oppressive weight.
"Your execution will be... very, very slow."
"Silence, you decrepit fool."
Jeong Yeon-shin swiftly scanned his surroundings with his senses.
The dispersed scouts from Ma Gwang-ik’s group were tasked with identifying strong opponents. This was to ensure the Blade Specters’ elites didn’t overwhelm them. His comrades—including Wei Ji Myo-hwa, Zhuge Hyeon, and Tae Yeom-ryong—lay in wait, disguised on other peaks.
For now, they were safe from the devastating sword strike.
Or rather—was it safety?
No, it wasn’t.
Jeong Yeon-shin had just witnessed a massacre.
Ordinary people and martial artists alike had been swept away. The numbers weren’t small. Ye So-hyang had killed well over a hundred.
Hovering safely in the air with her Sword Command technique, beyond the reach of Ma Gwang-ik’s counterattacks.
Hoooonng...
Even Now
Ye So-hyang, riding her sword, moved farther away. It seemed she was heading toward the opposite peak.
Though already out of range for any technique, she now shifted as if to an entirely different realm.
This wasn’t the behavior Jeong Yeon-shin had heard about from Zhuge Hyeon.
It was madness. The Elder of the Blade Specters was unhinged.
Her swift sword—a rarity in the world—was unleashed upon the populace with terrifying precision, so fast that even Jeong Yeon-shin struggled to track it. Chaos erupted around them.
People scrambled in every direction, a sudden flood of evacuees descending the slopes. Among the clusters of villagers shielding their heads with their hands, Jeong Yeon-shin caught glimpses of his comrades from Ma Gwang-ik’s group, their faces equally tense.
I have to stop her.
Jeong Yeon-shin's gaze hardened.
Rage burned in his chest. The radiant wheel embedded in his heart spun with heated fervor.
The lives of commoners must not be treated so lightly. Their existence lay outside the martial world’s web of violence.
Jeong Yeon-shin had wielded his sword to obtain the fruit of the Celestial Tree—his own thread of life hanging by a single strand.
But how many threads of life were now being severed on that far cliff? Each one weighed the same as his.
Kugugugung!
Another peak was cleaved diagonally and crumbled into the abyss. A place far out of Jeong Yeon-shin’s reach.
Can I handle this?
His expression darkened.
He and Zhuge Hyeon had carefully analyzed Ye So-hyang's strength.
The left arm she had lost during the Zhongnan Sect’s rebellion, the diminishing power of her techniques, the decline brought by age—all pointed to a fighter far past her prime.
But facing her directly was different. She felt like an entirely different being.
He hadn’t even seen her draw her blade clearly. Her domineering swordsmanship truly lived up to its name, a blade that sought supremacy in the demonic path. Her strikes were unnervingly swift, her energy explosive.
Her sheer power was overwhelming, reminiscent of Hahoe Wi-jin, the Heavenly Power Strength God.
Her fame had spread across the vast martial world. The swordswoman who could cleave mountains—none traversing the Central Plains were ignorant of her name.
Even with the compatibility of the Radiant Wheel Technique, failing to read her moves rendered it useless. As things stood, he could not win.
His thoughts converged into a single resolution.
I have to complete it here.
Quickly. Now.
He would use the time this arrogant Elder of the Blade Specters had unwittingly gifted him.
Intuition...
Jeong Yeon-shin’s talent reacted. His gifts, nurtured by consuming his own lifespan, always answered ferociously when the moment called for it.
Now he felt it was possible. The wind brushing against his skin carried a sensation that was fresh yet familiar—a clarity bordering on omnipotence.
Just before closing his eyes, the sky reflected in Jeong Yeon-shin’s pupils.
Hoooh—
With a deep inhale, his consciousness sank inward.
He delved deep, retracing everything he had seen so far.
Through the Myunggong Gathering, he had expanded his knowledge with the Pa-Baek Chongram. He had faced the polished techniques of Baek Seo-goon, the Youngcheon Sword Demon.
Returning to his essence, he had mingled with senior masters and gleaned their wisdom. The martial world was vast beyond imagination.
He had realized just how diverse the use of the body could be—particularly through the guidance of Jin, the Blood Master.
He had observed his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, rejuvenated through reverse cultivation, examining the flow of his revitalized energy.
He compared it to the body of the contemporary Sword Corps Captain, whom he had studied in his blue-rank days, tracing the qi flow of the peerless masters who were beyond ordinary reach.
All of it was insight.
Now, Jeong Yeon-shin’s understanding was both broad and deep.
I must establish the foundation of my martial vision.
Absorbing all of it at once like a lightning strike.
He would read everything in its entirety.
Thump—
In this extreme moment, Ye So-hyang’s sword strikes and his current state of mind intertwined, forming inspiration.
A sharp, azure sensation struck his crown. The radiant wheel in his heart spun faster.
I must stop this old woman. If I don’t utterly crush every one of her techniques, winning will be no different from losing. I need a method that governs what lies directly in front of me with absolute authority. One that allows even the strongest opponents no room for escape.
The eyes of Ma Gwang-ik’s leader, tasked with safeguarding the lives of all beneath heaven.
The Radiant Wheel Technique began to rise toward his head. Warm energy coursed through his neural pathways, filling every capillary.
From his face to his eyes, the energy ignited pressure points like Saekbaek, Chanjuk, and Indang.
Delicate waves of qi radiated from his face, rewiring his nervous system.
Wooooong—!
A faint blue light began to spill from the corners of Jeong Yeon-shin’s tightly closed eyes.
He had long since constructed the necessary structure of his energy. All he needed now was to outline the martial form with clarity.
The insights floating in his mind merged with his innate talent, transforming into light that coursed through his entire being.
Ma Gwang-ik’s leader was a grandmaster of his time. Within moments, he shaped his understanding, talent, and intent into a martial art the world had never seen.
A technique that would preemptively crush all that offended his sight.
I will name it... Shicheon Method.
His entire gaze burned with heat. Every flow of energy converged on his crown’s Baihui Point.
These will be the eyes through which I see the world.
The waves of the Radiant Wheel surged toward his head.
Complete convergence.
Flash—!
The apex energy center in his brain blazed blue.
It felt as though his crown had been struck by lightning. Within the blue radiance, a seamless flow of energy formed.
A fixed structure of internal energy continuously circulated between his optic nerves and Baihui Point. Without warning, a supreme ocular technique had been born.
Jeong Yeon-shin opened his eyes.
And then, he spoke.
"The Elder of the Blade Specters butchered my father mercilessly. Perhaps she lacked proper guidance from her own parents. Maybe even her wet nurse failed her."
The radiant wheel in his voice echoed far and wide.
Borrowing Hyeon Won-chang’s style, it proved highly effective.
Hwaaaack!
A gust of wind tousled Jeong Yeon-shin’s hair violently. Ye So-hyang had returned in an instant, her sword flight as fearsome as ever.
Amidst the fluttering brown pine needles, she stood with her hands behind her back, staring down at him.
"So, you are rushing toward your demise. Were you so eager to fall in one stroke?"
Jeong Yeon-shin met her gaze with composure, resting his hand on the silver sword energy of his Northern Bright Sword.
"Why don’t you worry about your own sins, old crone of the demonic path? You're bound for hell soon enough."
"......"
Ye So-hyang’s lips twisted.
"Child, you have peculiar eyes to match that sharp tongue. Tell me, what do you see?"
"All of you."
Ma Gwang-ik’s leader’s eyes flared with brilliant blue light.