The words were uttered amidst the chaos of the battlefield. The claim was that killing Ma Gwang-ik's warriors would reveal a satisfying reaction from Jeong Yeon-shin, and so they acted upon it.
As the elite warriors of Yeoryeong, who had ruled the martial world with secretive terror, lay collapsed on the ground or retreated, Ma Gwang-ik-ju returned the words of the Shaanxi Supreme Demon with a sharp retort.
"What about Yeoryeong, whose warriors were slaughtered by the dozens under Mancheon Hwawu?"
Wi Geuk-sang laughed heartily, his wide sleeves flaring like banners in the wind.
"That bandage of yours, the trembling energy waves—your pain from internal and external wounds seems immense. Have you been drinking? I heard the Beggar Sect's Divine Beggar employs drunken techniques, but I'm not sure if your swordplay can compare. Judging by Mancheon Hwawu, you must be Ma Gwang-ik-ju Seomye, and these men are Ma Gwang-ik's warriors. Have you come to retrieve Jeong Hye? You've taken the bait!"
The words were chaotic and arrogant, closer to incoherent ramblings than an actual conversation—a sign of a demon’s distorted mind after prolonged immersion in dark martial arts.
However, there was truth in his nonsensical chatter. Yeoryeong's insights were rooted in intelligence.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not respond.
Step.
He silently walked toward the Shaanxi Supreme Demon, his steps echoing on the hard earth of the courtyard.
His vision blurred slightly, accompanied by faint hallucinations brought on by the numbing effects of the medicine.
It was a relief that Mancheon Hwawu had cleared the chaos earlier; otherwise, the situation might have been overwhelming.
"I feel no pain now. It’s not something I’d take again, but... this will suffice."
The path ahead was clear. No one stood in his way.
"The Lord has finally arrived," someone muttered.
"Why those eyes...?"
"Could it be...?"
The Ma Gwang-ik warriors who had retreated from Wi Geuk-sang whispered among themselves.
Most of them were Jeong Yeon-shin's seniors. Their keen gazes, unmatched even among other martial artists, scrutinized every detail: his erratic breathing from unstable internal energy circulation, his slightly contracted pupils, and his twisted, faintly unnatural smile.
Everyone noticed—Baek Mi-ryeo, Hyeon Won-chang, Cheongmyeong, and all the others.
"We should’ve buried that Hwangbo brat sooner!"
"Should we stop him?"
"No. If we are to deal with the Supreme Demon, the Lord must draw his sword. There’s no retreating from this confrontation. Using retreating movement techniques to escape the Shaanxi Supreme Demon is impossible."
"Have you seen the Lord's injuries? Even at his best, handling that monstrous demon would be difficult, and now..."
Jeong Yeon-shin deliberately ignored their concerns.
Even as he succumbed to the amplified effects of the medicine coursing through his veins, he didn’t have the strength to meet their worried gazes.
He simply thought calmly. Aren’t I the one who caused their concern?
“Not afraid of the black tide, are they?”
No, they must have understood Wi Geuk-sang's martial prowess. Their concern wasn’t for themselves but for the Lord who might lose his nephew.
He was deeply grateful. He resolved to teach them the Gwangye-gyeol techniques even more thoroughly after rescuing Jeong Hye.
Swoosh.
Jeong Yeon-shin stopped ten steps away from the Shaanxi Supreme Demon.
Even though the demon’s aura had lessened, a peculiar pressure filled the air. This was a master of the highest level, one who had merged internal energy and willpower through the advanced state of Three Flowers Converging at the Crown.
The oppressive presence brushing against his skin was extraordinary—unlike the Pure Devil Divine Beast he had crushed with Dharmic remnants on Myeonggong Island.
Perhaps it was because this being inherited the martial lineage of Zhongyuan rather than Xinjiang. The combat instinct and practical tendencies of real martial arts were unmistakable.
Wi Geuk-sang’s grin deepened as he observed Jeong Yeon-shin quietly.
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"The black of Ipwang Fortress, the imperial hound oppressing the martial world. Such arrogant creatures."
At the Supreme Demon’s words, Ma Gwang-ik-ju tilted his head slightly.
"Aren’t you someone who thrives off the structure Shaanxi’s nation built? You neither farm the fields, construct homes, manage foreign powers, nor maintain security. You’re nothing more than thugs who break property and disrupt the system. For brutes like you to talk about martial oppression... it’s always been laughable. Don’t you feel ashamed?"
"..."
"Why not live in the wilderness instead? You’re no different from parasites."
The tone was calm, but the words were an unprecedented insult.
Even as a demon from the unorthodox path, he dared to utter such blatant disrespect in the face of someone exuding the composed dignity of a seasoned martial master.
In the distance, Baek Mi-ryeo suddenly stepped on Hyeon Won-chang's foot while staring at Jeong Yeon-shin.
Wi Geuk-sang, who had been silently observing, slowly opened his mouth.
"...Once, some bureaucrats irritated me, so I took their heads. A few weeks later, the leader of the So Yeon Brigade came to me alone. Said he could handle me on his own, but I could see right through him. He was terrified his subordinates might lose their heads, just like you."
"So Yeon Brigade?"
Jeong Yeon-shin responded, his mind suddenly clear.
Like Ma Gwang-ik, the So Yeon Brigade was an integral part of Ipwang Fortress’s Divine Sword Corps.
Renowned for their Unhindered Eternal Life Technique, their captain was famed for mastery in evasion techniques.
Wi Geuk-sang's eyes crinkled further with a sly grin.
"He kept blabbering about the people’s welfare but died by my hand. So now you’re his replacement. That man was nimble, unlike you. Word has it your internal energy borders on Dharmic strength—don't rely on that nonsense to act recklessly against Yeoryeong unless you’ve severely miscalculated."
Jeong Yeon-shin smirked faintly.
"A demon kidnapping innocents dares to talk about decency. How tedious."
"...You're not wrong, but I despise your words. Die."
Crash!
Wi Geuk-sang’s yellow sleeves suddenly bristled, and a blade infused with demonic power emerged.
In an instant, he forged a nearly perfect sword momentum, despite having just changed his mind mid-conversation.
There was no consideration for martial etiquette or giving his opponent the first move.
The air tightened with tension. It felt as though an invisible thread between the two tightened and trembled violently—a sign of supreme swordsmen preparing for a life-and-death duel.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s vision wavered continuously, making it difficult to pinpoint the moment to draw his sword.
The medicine’s effects.
Even so, this was better. The numbed pain allowed him to move freely.
Jeong Yeon-shin calmly adjusted his grip on the Northern Bright Sword, ensuring the center of his palm aligned with the hilt and adjusting his index and middle fingers higher.
A foreign stance, even to himself. Yet it didn’t feel awkward.
"I saw it from afar."
Before the swords clashed, he had already devised a counter-technique.
He had heard countless tales of the Supreme Demon’s murderous exploits and had caught a glimpse of his clashes with Ma Gwang-ik earlier. It was enough. He had reconstructed the intricate framework of the demon’s sword technique.
The bloom of energy in his upper energy center remained undiminished, even under the numbing influence of the painkillers.
"His strikes are heavy. His qi flows like a phantom blade. He separates sword strikes from sword qi."
Jeong Yeon-shin’s thoughts organized the principles of the demon’s technique as Wi Geuk-sang took a heavy step forward, lowering his blade.
Whoosh—
A chilling sense of unease arose—something deeply unsettling yet awe-inspiring to seasoned martial artists familiar with Seomye.
Wi Geuk-sang’s lips twisted as he approached.
"Your eyes provoke me!"
Boom!
His exclamation reverberated as he stomped the ground. Black waves rippled outward, rapidly expanding in concentric circles. His demonic energy manifested into a visible force.
Krrraaaa!
The waves surged forward, like the hellfire of the underworld itself. Black flames flooded the battlefield.
The Shaanxi Supreme Demon’s single step was rumored to be capable of melting fortress walls. This technique, Hell-Bound Sovereign Blade, was a technique of legendary status.
Jeong Yeon-shin infused his Radiant Wheel Qi into the Yongcheon point of his sole as he raised his knee.
Step.
From his step, a sacred ripple emanated. The clear, colorless waves pushed aside the black flames advancing like an army.
Hwanikibo.
Like the demon, he pierced through the overwhelming force in one stride. The demonic energy faltered and unraveled before his Radiant Wheel Qi.
The confrontation between the Shaanxi Supreme Demon and Ipwang Fortress's Black General began in such a manner.
Whoosh!
The collision of qi created a powerful gale. Jeong Yeon-shin’s black hair flowed dramatically behind him.
As the battle drew all eyes, Ma Gwang-ik-ju turned his back to the descending strands of hair and swung the Northern Bright Sword.
Leaves scattered in the air as invisible energy wrapped around the blade exploded like a storm.
Bang!
It wasn’t an offensive maneuver but a defensive one. After dispersing the black flames, Jeong Yeon-shin found the Supreme Demon lunging with his sword.
The tremendous force behind the opposing blade seemed enough to overpower his own.
Unlike his fight with Ma Gwang-ik, Wi Geuk-sang’s internal energy was not externalized.
His sword’s power alone was overwhelming.
Their eyes met across the crossed blades, and Wi Geuk-sang smirked. It was the smirk of a veteran predator.
"He compressed his energy into his sword and body the moment he realized our energy fields clashed."
Jeong Yeon-shin instantly understood. The Supreme Demon had adapted to the conflicting energies and countered effectively.
Rather than waste energy, he intended to crush his opponent with raw power and technical skill.
This truly was a madman. Even under the pressure of radiant qi, his smile widened.
It was a sadistic grin, tinged with cruelty.
Vrooom!
Jeong Yeon-shin interrupted the contest of strength, channeling Radiant Wheel Qi through his sword. It was a technique of Weight Dispersion Method.
The instant it penetrated his opponent’s body, it would tear through the veins like a storm.
Wi Geuk-sang let out a grunt.
“Guh.”
In that instant, the force pushing against the Northern Bright Sword shattered. The demonic energy-infused black sword was discarded.
A blurred, distorted figure of Wi Geuk-sang appeared at Jeong Yeon-shin's side.
It was Dominion Sovereign's Step. The lowered black blade hummed ominously, then came up in a rising slash.
Clang—!
Jeong Yeon-shin countered with Simgeuk Kirin, but a powerful shock coursed through his hand—the terrifying might of Wi Geuk-sang’s sword.
The concentrated force in that single strike was immense. It was as if the internal energy, meant to manifest as sword qi, had been entirely channeled into the sword’s momentum.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s thoughts raced.
“His swordplay is fast and precise. His strikes exploit gaps with an uncanny realism. He's a veteran—a completed warrior. He can adapt to any situation.”
If not of a distinguished bloodline, Wi Geuk-sang’s age alone placed him among the seasoned elite. Martial artists following the unorthodox path declined at varying rates depending on their training.
This opponent was still in his prime—a mid-level master of dark martial arts who retained his full power.
As if to confirm this, Wi Geuk-sang smiled while delivering another strike, unwilling to yield to the oppressive energy of the Radiant Wheel Qi.
Clang! Clang!
The black blade left afterimages as it cut through the air. Each swing caused the tremor of Jeong Yeon-shin's grip—a display of an absolute swordsman’s skill.
It was dazzling. Without even segmenting his energy into sword qi, Wi Geuk-sang showcased the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
Black and white trajectories intertwined in a chaotic dance.
At some point, neither combatant moved forward or back. Wi Geuk-sang’s Dominion Sovereign's Step, aiming for Jeong Yeon-shin’s flanks, was completely countered.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s sharp senses didn’t allow the same approach twice. Whenever Wi Geuk-sang tried to withdraw or disappear, Jeong Yeon-shin responded in one of two ways: stepping forward with relentless offense or angling his toes to preemptively dominate the direction of the battle.
Jeong Yeon-shin tightly cornered the Shaanxi Supreme Demon with overwhelming awareness.
Bang! Clang! Clang!
Their swords clashed repeatedly, moving so fast they appeared as a blur to the surrounding onlookers.
Only the shattered stalks of winter grass scattered around the field were clearly visible.
Jeong Yeon-shin delivered optimal countermeasures at every moment. Neither could unleash their full strength in such close quarters, but it worked to his advantage.
He moved through a dimming vision and a dull, numbing sensation in his skin. Wi Geuk-sang, meanwhile, was constrained by the Dharmic energy of the Radiant Wheel Qi, unable to bring out his full repertoire.
Silence fell over the gathered audience.
With every exchange, Wi Geuk-sang’s eyes burned darker, brimming with malice and murderous intent.
"A sapling worthy of the heavens. You must die here."
Splurt—!
The moment he resolved this, blood sprayed from Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder. The distorted tip of the black blade, fluttering like a moth’s wing, grazed his flesh before rising.
The bandage already wrapped around his shoulder soaked red as residual energy from the strike dyed the area crimson.
With an indifferent expression, Wi Geuk-sang activated the Demonic Reversal Sword of Hell-Bound Sovereign Arts once more.
Ma Gwang-ik-ju Seomye was moving under a strange intoxication, his body already pushed to its limits.
Though Wi Geuk-sang found the unfamiliar Dharmic energy martial art astounding, he didn’t consider it insurmountable. Not even the unusual technique Heaven’s Burial Sword Qi could shake his confidence.
He swung his right hand, gripping the black sword, and launched a series of chained strikes. The motion was serpentine, slithering and extending like a massive snake.
Clang! Clang! Bang!
Jeong Yeon-shin’s abdomen and chest were cut. The wounds weren’t deep, but they forced him to step half a pace back, his eyes now glowing faintly blue.
From the perspective of the martial world, the Supreme Demon’s Demonic Reversal Sword was an absolute technique. Yet it repeatedly failed against Jeong Yeon-shin. That spoke volumes about the caliber of his opponent.
"That body can’t sustain a burst of power for a short duel or endure a prolonged battle lasting hundreds of exchanges. His natural talent is outright insane. No wonder the Ming Sect speaks of defying the heavens. Such unfairness from the heavens..."
Wi Geuk-sang’s eyes twitched with irritation as the thought passed.
"Make way!"
"Lord! Lord!"
"They’re pressing in! Form a dense line!"
The surroundings became chaotic. Seeing their leader at a disadvantage, the martial artists of Ma Gwang-ik surged forward. Yeoryeong’s warriors encircled them, forming a defensive line.
Wi Geuk-sang remained focused solely on his duel with Ma Gwang-ik-ju.
These were the warriors who proudly served the Lord of Ipwang Fortress. Yeoryeong’s branch fighters alone were not sufficient to hold back Ma Gwang-ik’s forces.
Still, even a few seconds bought were enough. Eliminating the head of the Divine Sword Corps was the priority.
At that moment.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes narrowed. They were half-closed, reminiscent of a meditative monk's gaze.
He repeated the motions of parrying, retreating, and stepping forward without conscious thought. His body moved on its own.
"Have I ever felt this free?"
His body had always obeyed his will perfectly. Every muscle and fiber responded with precision, as if they were extensions of his mind.
Now, however, it felt completely unshackled.
"Yulha Nanglang! The Sacred Sword Spirit of Mount Hua...!"
Even the surrounding commotion faded into the distance.
A single luminous line etched itself into his pain-numbed vision—a shimmering streak, erratic yet brilliant.
Boundless talent radiated from the realm of sensation. Following the immense energy of the Radiant Wheel Qi, he crushed the ground beneath his feet and swung his right hand.
As the arc of the Northern Bright Sword aligned with the etched line in his vision...
Vrrrrooom—!
Every meridian in his body surged as if struck by thunder.