Ye So-hyang's eyes widened in shock.
For a fleeting moment, Jeong Yeon-shin felt a vile sense of satisfaction. Perhaps it was because his opponent was the sworn enemy who had annihilated his family’s home. Her words from earlier still echoed vividly in his mind:
— “I was on an excursion. Beneath me lay a land far too prosperous. Fertile soil is nothing more than prey for the heavens, so your family deserved to be devastated.”
— “For such a reason? There were many common folk who lived on the land my mother had chosen.”
— “How pitiable. Instead of gratitude for contributing to our sect leader’s grand vision, you dare hold resentment.”
The battle with one of the core high-ranking elites of the Thirteen Heavens was nearing its end.
Jeong Yeon-shin had severed her sole remaining arm entirely. The elder of the Blade Specters, famed for her swordsmanship even more than her protective inner qi, was no longer able to defend herself.
The transparent winter sunlight glinted off Ye So-hyang's severed right arm, casting shadows that ebbed and flowed as if mourning the fight’s conclusion.
At last—
“Guh...!”
A guttural groan escaped from Ye So-hyang's lips as her expression twisted in agony. Her once-composed and lofty demeanor shattered, replaced by convulsions of pain that wracked her aged body.
The sword beneath her feet lost its momentum, sending her plummeting toward the earth.
“You... damn wretch!”
Ye So-hyang twisted her body mid-air, now reduced to a torso and legs.
Blood sprayed wildly around her as her dissipating qi exploded in erratic bursts. Even the residual energy in her fragmented veins was monumental in scale.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t let his guard down. Clenching his left fist, he readied himself. His opponent, even as a fallen master, had once rivaled the Violet Rank. It was only natural to expect dozens of hidden techniques or escape arts.
If she managed to remotely manipulate her flying sword with just her toes, the consequences could be dire. She had to be subdued completely.
‘Tsk.’
Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed a groan.
The Azure Sunlit Day technique he had executed earlier aligned every last thread of his inner energy with his sword technique. The toll it exacted on his body was immense.
His entire frame felt like a drenched rag, heavy and sluggish. Still, he couldn’t afford to yield to the recoil of the technique—not yet.
“Just one more move... One last strike...”
Even the searing pain from his wounds would have to be weaponized. He steeled his resolve, drawing sharp clarity from the icy sting of his injuries.
Whoosh!
Plunging downward alongside Ye So-hyang, Jeong Yeon-shin used the brief descent to his advantage.
For a martial master of his caliber, even a short time in the air was enough to execute several exchanges.
His clenched left fist struck her abdomen.
Boom!
A solid impact rang out, his qi-laden blow slamming into her protective barrier. The texture beneath his knuckles was unnervingly firm—a testament to her unparalleled mastery of inner qi.
Despite the loss of significant meridians, Ye So-hyang had maintained a steadfast energy shield.
But Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t stop.
Boom! Boom!
He continued hammering her with relentless strikes, channeling the relentless energy flow of the Flowerless Bloom Technique.
The sensation in his hands was akin to his bones being ground to dust. For any martial artist without the tempered foundation of Jeong Ga’s techniques, such exertion would mean irreversible damage. For him, it was nothing more than excruciating pain.
His punches carried the radiant power of the Luminous Method Wheel Qi. Each successive strike layered explosive energy upon the last, magnifying its force with every hit.
“I’ll strip you of your martial arts.”
Driving his qi-infused fists into her lower dantian, Jeong Yeon-shin shattered her inner energy defenses. The protective barrier fractured, unleashing a torrent of chaotic qi fragments.
The mismatch between her Destructive Path Energy and his Luminous Method Wheel Qi created cascading distortions in her flow of inner energy.
His relentless assault didn’t stop until the barrier was completely obliterated. Finally, his fist pierced through the shattered remains and slammed directly into her lower dantian.
Crack!
In that single moment, twenty-four distinct impacts resonated from his fist. Her dantian shattered, and translucent fragments of energy dissipated like petals scattered in the wind.
A torrent of blood erupted from Ye So-hyang's mouth as she began her rapid descent toward the ground.
The earth rushed up to meet them.
‘I won’t let my guard down.’
Jeong Yeon-shin shifted his bloodied left shoulder, preparing for the final blow. While he lacked the energy for Rebounding Steel, his Force Wall Technique would suffice.
With Ye So-hyang’s face twisted into a demonic grimace, he drove his last strike into her middle dantian.
The remaining energy in his body coalesced into his fist as it connected.
Boom!
A thunderous burst of qi ruptured her midsection, obliterating her core. He felt the satisfying crunch of her dantian shattering completely.
“Hurgh...!”
Ye So-hyang let out a final gasp of pain before the two of them crashed into the forest floor.
The sound of their landing was muted, blending with the rustle of grass and the scattering of blood. Her severed right arm fell a short distance away, staining the earth a dark red.
A harrowing silence descended upon the battlefield.
The severed limb of a once-revered martial legend now lay discarded on the ground, an eerie reminder of the fight’s brutality.
Hoo.
Jeong Yeon-shin exhaled slowly. He planted a knee on the ground and pushed himself to his feet.
All around him, the gathered onlookers watched in stunned silence.
Some gawked with mouths agape, while others grimaced, unable to hide their conflicted emotions. Not a single voice broke the oppressive stillness.
The legendary Sword of the Ghost Blade had been defeated.
“......”
Only a few breaths had passed, yet the expressions of everyone present had already shifted dramatically.
From commoners watching from the cliffs to martial artists who had crept closer, all bore witness to the unthinkable:
The elder of the Blade Specters, a figure revered as one of the most formidable martial artists in Shaanxi, had fallen to a youthful prodigy.
The oppressive silence was punctuated by the gentle rustle of the wind over the valley. Shock, disbelief, and awe lingered in the air.
Jeong Yeon-shin broke the silence, standing tall despite his battered body.
“That... was an excellent technique.”
“I’m glad it served its purpose. Though it’s not a pleasant memory, the world has its peculiarities.”
Jeong Hyun approached from the side, his expression betraying a mixture of reverence and composure. As the eldest son of the Jeong Family, he had much to reflect on.
He thought to himself, In three years, the power dynamics of the martial world may shift entirely.
The Celestial Dragon Jeong Hyun recalled the moment he had lent his fan to Jeong Yeon-shin at the Jeong Family’s gate.
“To think the elder of the Blade Specters would be brought down like this... Jeong Yeon-shin’s achievement is monumental. This is no ordinary feat. The ramifications will be immense, far surpassing the upheaval caused by the Great Sect War.”
His gaze grew heavier.
“...And yet, he just keeps surpassing expectations. What a monstrous talent.”
From the other side, Tae Yeom-ryong approached with his characteristic nonchalance.
However, his casual demeanor faltered when a lone sword floated into the air nearby.
It was the sword of Yongcheon’s Spirit Phantom.
The flying blade, which had struck both the Yin-Yang Twin Marauders and Ye So-hyang with surgical precision, began its descent toward the cliffs.
A faint voice drifted to Jeong Yeon-shin’s ears.
— I lack the face to meet you properly, so I must leave for now. But I shall visit soon. Please... do not turn me away. For this, I am sorry.
It was a raspy yet gentle voice he had heard once before.
“The Spirit Phantom of Yongcheon. The Sword Saint of Henan....”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes narrowed. The sudden assistance, followed by cryptic words, left him puzzled.
He pondered the connection. What link did this person have to the Jeong Family? Their aid today had been nothing short of lifesaving.
He gave a small nod of acknowledgment. Though he wanted to express his gratitude with a formal salute, his guise as a Blade Sect figure made that impossible.
Perhaps the acknowledgment was enough.
The floating sword trembled faintly before vanishing over the cliff’s edge like a streak of light, leaving only the faintest echo behind.
Jeong Hyun and Tae Yeom-ryong refrained from commenting.
They understood the weight of such a connection. Ties to the highest echelons of the martial world were akin to possessing a treasure trove of invaluable knowledge.
To pry would be unwise.
“Huuh...”
A hollow sound, like air escaping a punctured lung, accompanied Ye So-hyang’s shallow breaths. She lay crumpled at Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet, her arms lost to karmic retribution.
Her left arm had been severed by the Sword Sage of Zhongnan, her right by the Marquis of Radiance himself. Now, with her pressure points sealed and her body paralyzed, she couldn’t even summon the strength to take her own life. All she could manage were faint whispers.
Jeong Yeon-shin gazed down at the elder, his eyes unreadable, before speaking.
"I’ll interrogate you."
A strained, hollow laugh bubbled up from Ye So-hyang’s throat.
“F-foolish... notion...”
Her cracked lips twisted into a faint smirk, as if mocking the very thought. Even now, stripped of her arms, with her lower and middle dantian shattered, she radiated the unyielding resolve of a warrior. The remnants of her energy, though fragmented, still clung to her battered form like the stubborn embers of a dying flame.
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly, as though genuinely puzzled.
"Before the fight, you were so confident. Doesn’t it embarrass you? The only thing more absurd than the bravado of a defeated warrior is..."
His words trailed off, leaving the question to linger unspoken. Ye So-hyang’s lips pressed shut.
Jeong Yeon-shin no longer spared her another glance. As one of the senior leaders of the Thirteen Heavens, she would not yield easily to simple questioning.
“I’m no expert in torture...”
But that wasn’t a concern.
Turning his head, his gaze settled on a figure approaching from the distance, her dark hair flowing like ink.
It was Bai Mi-ryeo, the Sword Maiden of a Thousand Blades. Her pale face was tinged with concern as she hurried toward him, her white robes fluttering gracefully despite their rough fabric.
Even with the unassuming aura she exuded, Bai Mi-ryeo possessed a pure and deadly energy—a testament to her mastery of martial arts. She was as trustworthy as Jin Senior and Qing Ming, the other stalwarts of the Radiant Marquisate.
She would know how to handle Ye So-hyang. Infusing her with energy alone would undoubtedly be a torturous experience for the fallen elder.
Meanwhile—
“The Sword of the Ghost Blade has fallen!”
“She’s beyond recovery... or maybe even dead!”
“A new star rises in the martial world! His power defies the heavens!”
“Spread the word! Everyone must know!”
The entire gorge erupted into chaos. It was as if the martial world had been distilled into this single, turbulent moment.
Messenger hawks flapped their wings wildly, scattering in all directions, while some of the more astute onlookers kept a close eye on Jeong Yeon-shin and his companions.
Jeong Yeon-shin began walking, his silence broken only by the soft crunch of his footsteps. He cast a brief glance at Ye So-hyang’s battered form before jerking his chin toward Tae Yeom-ryong.
“You want me to carry her?” Tae Yeom-ryong’s incredulous expression went ignored as Jeong Yeon-shin strode away, his focus unwavering. The sunlight filtered through the sparse trees ahead, glinting noisily off the rustling leaves.
The wind carried whispers of the battle far and wide, ensuring that this moment would not be forgotten.
***
The Ming Dynasty was an empire.
The foundation of its power lay in its people, and it did not tolerate negligence toward their well-being. If wandering martial artists wreaked havoc under the guise of justice, the common folk would suffer, leading to unrest or delayed tributes—problems that could destabilize governance.
Thus, the government and the martial world were inseparable. They could not exist apart, for the martial world was a realm built atop the livelihoods of the people.
Even the black-market factions, who collected protection fees from inns and shops, paid tribute to the local magistrates. They did so to avoid visits from the White Guards of Yiphuang City. These elite enforcers possessed the strength of dozens of rogue fighters and could singlehandedly dismantle a small sect.
The mere act of a magistrate reporting to Yiphuang City often resulted in the removal of plaques from sect headquarters—a fate avoided only through regular bribes.
Th𝓮 most uptodate nov𝑒ls are publish𝒆d on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.
During a famine, corruption reached its peak, with officials and sects colluding to exploit the vulnerable.
The rhythmic thud-thud-thud of horses echoed along the main road. A lavish carriage, drawn by two fine steeds, left a trail of dust in its wake.
The bustling streets fell silent. Shops and storefronts cautiously opened or closed their windows, as if trying to gauge the danger. To keep one’s head intact, it was best to remain unnoticed.
This was the arrival of a Zhifu, a provincial commissioner—a figure who had been observing the chaotic martial conflicts in the region from afar. The recent faction war in Xi’an Prefecture, Shaanxi, which bordered rebellion, had been brought to an end. It was now time to restore order to the lucrative city and its surrounding territories.
Inside the carriage, voices mingled with the rumble of its wheels.
“Guangye Chaeju, huh. I still can’t believe it. I spent a fortune—sacks of silver—and yet, those mad dogs have vanished, as if swallowed by the earth.”
“That is the way of the unorthodox martial world, is it not? They destroy one another and are, in turn, destroyed. What loyalty can one expect from such fractious hordes?”
“Are you implying I miscalculated?”
“No, my lord. I merely—”
“Merely jest, was it? What a wit you are.”
“Nonetheless, you must exercise caution. This Guangye Chaeju... they say he defeated the Ghost Blade Swordmaster herself. Surely, such a person must be an exceptionally vicious brute.”
“Do you not know my pedigree? I understand such lowly martial men better than anyone. Cultivating internal energy requires intellectual discipline. If his skill is so refined, he cannot be wholly uneducated. The idea that the government and martial world are inviolable is the talk of the naive.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“No martial artist would dare attack a Zhifu in broad daylight. All I need do is manage appearances. As for you, hold your tongue. Do not provoke him unnecessarily. These are the very sorts to double the tribute they extract.”
“Yes, my lord Zhifu.”
At that moment, the carriage slowed to a halt.
They had arrived at their destination: an inn with an adjoining private annex.