"......"
The warriors gathered in the hall remained silent for a moment, unable to speak.
Masters of internal energy are, by necessity, deeply attuned to the human body.
Without understanding the network of meridians and acupoints, it is impossible to achieve the full circulation of internal energy, the "Great Circuit."
Thus, what they witnessed—Ma Gwang-ik rising—bordered on incomprehensible.
Everyone knew the severity of his wounds, both external and internal. There wasn’t a single person present who hadn’t scrutinized the details of his injuries.
“Could it be... a Reversal of Light and Reflection?”
“What? What did you just say?”
The warriors of Ma Gwang-ik’s group were battle-hardened and ruthless. Before the man who carelessly mentioned the technique could finish his thought, Cheongmyeong struck his solar plexus with the back of her hand, sending him retreating in pain.
Meanwhile, Baek Mi-ryeo and Hyeon Won-chang knelt at the leader's side.
“How many...?”
“Five.”
Jeong Yeon-shin answered calmly, lowering his gaze from the outstretched hand of the Ipwang Divine Commander.
Above him, the delicate jawline of the head of the Mount Hua Sect entered his view. Lying flat, Jeong Yeon-shin rolled his eyes upward to meet her gaze.
“My condition isn’t great, so forgive me for treating an esteemed guest in this manner. I hope you will understand.”
He was merely returning the same words Yulha Nangnang had spoken when she first confronted him. There was no particular intention behind his remark.
The Mount Hua Sect's Sacred Flower Sword God seemed to take it in stride. Her lips curved faintly, forming an elegant smile like a pristine white plum blossom.
A faint fragrance wafted from her—not perceptible through the senses, but something felt at an intuitive level.
‘Overwhelming.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself.
If he had to name it, it would be the "Sword Fragrance." It was an aura of extreme danger. Her protective energy, which enveloped her entire body, appeared as if it could shatter and scatter like a burst of blossoms at any moment.
It felt as if she was perpetually surrounded by the essence of "Ten Thousand Flowers in Steel Rain." Perhaps it was one of the ultimate techniques of the Mount Hua Sect's "Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Style."
Even without activating his Vision Technique, he grasped it intuitively.
‘I’ve learned much from the Sword Saint at the Murim Alliance Assembly...’
But the head of the Mount Hua Sect was on another level. While the Sword Saint exhibited endless versatility in battle, Yulha Nangnang felt like a lofty mountain peak—noble and unreachable.
Even her aura felt ethereal and elevated, as if she could manipulate the sword to achieve anything, an art befitting one from the Nine Great Sects, known for their divine martial techniques.
“Does my presence intrigue you so?”
Yulha Nangnang finally broke the silence, her smile still in place.
“They say the eyes of Ipwang Fortress’s Seomye are sharp, like gazing into a bottomless hot spring atop a famous mountain. I find it unsettling yet oddly pleasant.”
She adjusted the sleeve of her pink robe with an elegant yet playful motion, though it didn’t appear comical in the least.
This was the martial world of the strong, a world of survival of the fittest. The bearing of an absolute powerhouse, one who held life and death in her hands, was something to be taken seriously by anyone present.
“So, what do you see in me?”
She tilted her head slightly, her tone neither displeased nor impatient but genuinely curious. She seemed to wonder how she appeared through the eyes of such a rare genius. Her demeanor was that of a true ascetic of the Nine Great Sects.
Their mutual insight into one another left little room for refusal.
Jeong Yeon-shin opened his mouth to speak, inspiration surging after a long time. Perhaps, having saved his nephew, he could afford a moment’s indulgence.
“Just now, the energy flow around the Sect Leader’s collarbone resembled plum blossoms. It harmonized in dual rhythms. Rather than the Five Elements, Six Harmonies, or Eight Trigrams, it seemed to blend the interstitial spaces of the Taiji. If I may venture a guess, the essence of the ‘Evening Glow of the Purple Mist’ might be derived from the energies of twilight, where day and night meet.”
“Hmm?”
“The defensive barrier of internal energy flows through your entire body with both sharpness and softness, woven into a sword aura. The structure of this energy is remarkable. Observing this, I must acknowledge that the martial arts world is indeed boundless. I am merely grateful for the chance to witness the unity of offense and defense at its peak.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly and deliberately.
With this, he gained a small foothold into the workings of her protective energy.
The Mount Hua Sect was not particularly famous for defensive barriers of internal energy. Yet, the ultimate masters of Ipwang Fortress, with their unparalleled skills in both internal energy and weapons, seemed to transcend the limits of their own techniques.
The Sword Saint had been the same. Meeting him up close revealed a profound and terrifying depth.
Though Jeong Yeon-shin was lying down, and his posture left much to be desired, his tone remained formal and respectful.
With his body still too stiff to clasp his hands in salute, he could only blink his eyelids slightly as a gesture of courtesy.
“I am honored that you allowed me the privilege of observing you. The virtuous legacy of the Nine Great Sects is truly noble and pure. I owe a debt of gratitude to you, Sect Leader.”
His words carried immense respect.
Yulha Nangnang’s pale chin tilted slightly upward as her gaze drifted toward the distant sky.
“...We are, after all, a pure sanctuary. Our teachings differ from those of the secular world. The spirit of our sect has always mirrored that of Mount Hua. How clear and green the vegetation grows, piercing through the barren rocky mountains. It has been our hope that all our disciples embody this purity.”
“It certainly seems so.”
Jeong Yeon-shin responded with unvarnished admiration, nodding his head in agreement.
The grace and dignity of the Sect Leader of a Great Sect were dazzling, almost intimidating in their grandeur.
“...I must say, your compliments are quite pleasing. Rest well.”
Yulha Nangnang swept her sleeve gracefully.
“Let us depart.”
She gave the order to her disciples, no longer meeting Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze.
Nearby, Yu Hyeon, who had been blinking silently, suddenly lifted his head.
“Master!”
“Even so, we must return.”
“But I’ve finally reunited with a friend...”
“Shaanxi will soon descend into chaos. With the Blade Specters, the Bloodflame Cult, and the Yeo-ryeong faction on the rise, how can we afford leisure? Did you not read the Beggar Sect’s report?”
“......”
“The leaders of the Blade Specters and the First Apostle of the Bloodflame Cult are major threats. The Zhongnan Sect has already been annihilated, and Ma Gwang-ik has fulfilled his duty and now lies in recovery. Do not trouble the supreme master who defeated the Ghostly White God and the strongest demon of Shaanxi. At the very least, offer him your well wishes.”
With that, Yulha Nangnang turned away.
Swoosh.
Her white stockings barely touched the edge of the grass. Transparent dew dripped quietly from the blades.
Her steps were ethereal, light as a fairy’s, yet exuding a natural elegance that captured all eyes.
Though her presence radiated the lofty grace of a blossoming plum tree, Yu Hyeon saw only retreat in her movement. The young Taoist thought to himself, understanding the feeling.
“Haa...”
“I’ll keep in touch. It seems I won’t be able to move freely in Shaanxi for a while.”
Jeong Yeon-shin side-eyed the sighing Mount Hua Sect disciple, speaking quietly.
From the Seven Great Clans of Xi’an to the Ghostly White God, and even the Yeo-ryeong faction’s Shaanxi branch, he had been running without rest. It was truly time for recuperation.
Ssshhh—
A transparent breeze suddenly swept through, bringing with it the harmony of nature now that the commotion had subsided.
The cold winter wind pushed through the crowd, brushing against the sleeping bags, its chill grazing Jeong Yeon-shin’s dulled skin.
Ma Gwang-ik said nothing to his leader. Watching Jeong Yeon-shin’s interaction with the Mount Hua Sect Leader had left him keenly aware of how fortunate they were to have avoided disaster.
He merely indulged in the familiar silence after battle, taking time to calm his heightened senses.
Not far away, even the Flame Dragon remained still until it finally rose.
“Hmm? The commander’s energy seems rather faint. Has it succeeded?”
“Well, if your burial begins soon enough...”
One of Ma Gwang-ik’s warriors responded.
After a brief exchange, the Flame Dragon deposited a bundle of bright red blossoms into a nearby graveyard.
“You’ve really picked up some nasty habits.”
“Shut up, you brute. Another one’s peeking out of your coat. Hand it over.”
The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.
“Damn it...”
***
So Baek Sect
The So Baek Sect was a branch of the Zhongnan Sect, one of the Seven Unorthodox Clans in Xi’an, and the only one to have survived the destruction of the others. It hosted the surviving disciples of the Zhongnan Sect and Ma Gwang-ik as honored guests.
This occurred a day after the collapse of the escort agency, which had been a cover for the Yeoryeong faction's Shaanxi branch.
Known as one of the Seven Great Clans of Xi’an, the So Baek Sect's estate was vast. Deep within the grounds lay a small lake and a pavilion, reserved for only the most esteemed guests. Typically, such accommodations were out of reach for ordinary visitors.
Step.
A lone swordswoman tread carefully, her long, jet-black hair cascading down her back.
Her azure robes fluttered in the winter breeze with each step, accentuating her sharp, elegant features and piercing gaze. She was Wei Ji Myo-hwa, the Cloud-Dragon Swordswoman.
As the Zhongnan Sect’s head disciple, her sobriquet, "Cloud Dragon," symbolized her life of concealment among the clouds.
She had taken refuge within the So Baek Sect, which posed as an unorthodox group, and had been staying close to Ma Gwang-ik.
"Gracious Benefactor."
Her lips moved softly, her voice carrying across the stillness of the pavilion.
Seated at the center of the crimson octagonal pavilion, Ma Gwang-ik opened his eyes. The structure’s open design allowed a view in all directions, and Wei Ji Myo-hwa met his gaze directly.
"Swordswoman Dragon," he greeted her with a faint smile.
Jeong Yeon-shin had never altered how he addressed Wei Ji Myo-hwa, calling her by this title since his days as a White Rank warrior at Ipwang Fortress and even after becoming its leader.
Now, this realization came to Wei Ji Myo-hwa anew. Perhaps it was part of why she revered him as her benefactor.
He had saved Jeong Hye and slain the strongest demon in Shaanxi, offering her immense relief.
At a time when her sect had been wiped out, further despair might have crushed her completely.
Thus, the words "Gracious Benefactor" came to her lips naturally, even more so than when she had been restored to life by the Guhyang Ilshik technique in Zhongnan Mountain.
“Did the morning meal suit your taste?”
“Yes. Thanks to being able to use chopsticks by myself again.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s reply was calm, his voice carrying a hint of quiet satisfaction.
This was after Shaanxi had turned into a battlefield due to the conflict with the Blade Specters and the Bloodflame Cult. Seven days had passed since he slew the strongest demon of Shaanxi, and by the day before, he had regained enough strength to move.
Though large movements were still beyond him, he was content simply to feed himself without relying on his overzealous subordinates. His family’s martial technique, Jeong Family Dynamic Gong, had accelerated his recovery.
He could now handle simple tools, like chopsticks or a brush, and had even managed to ward off his subordinates, who had been hovering over him.
Even the most formidable leader had limits to their patience.
"Ah."
Wei Ji Myo-hwa smiled faintly.
“You seem to have found peace.”
“Yes, somewhat.”
“No, more so than when you first climbed Zhongnan Mountain.”
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a touch of awkwardness at her observation.
“By the way, didn’t you mention that you worked alongside the Sword Ghost of Simmu-ryeon?”
“...Yes, they were of great help. Their aid saved my life.”
Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s thoughts briefly drifted to the Sword Lord of Hanyang.
To save Jeong Hye, the White Qilin of Simmu-ryeon had stood against the Blade Specters and the Yeoryeong faction, declaring their intent to protect the young prodigy. They seemed unaware that Jeong Yeon-shin’s lifespan might be short.
‘But that’s not for me to comment on.’
Wei Ji Myo-hwa slowly parted her lips.
“Gracious Benefactor, another distinguished guest has come to see you, someone of significant standing.”
“Are you referring to the Mount Hua Sect’s Leader? Or perhaps their companion...?”
“Both, actually. Though hiding here has been awkward, I see that your sense of perception remains intact.”
The voice rang out, clear and lively, from behind the wall. Yulha Nangnang stepped forward with graceful steps.
Behind her followed a man dressed in formal green official attire, his sharp eyes visible beneath a clean official’s hat.
“Since I happened to visit Xi’an, I brought along someone looking for Gwangye Chaeju.”
“I am Censorate Inspector So Woon.”
The man didn’t bother with formalities. His expression carried a faint trace of hostility.
“A Censorate Inspector?”
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly echoed.
“That’s correct. You, the head of a newly-risen unorthodox group, have been implicated. Zhifu Wang Weixiu was reportedly killed by Gwangye Chaeju. In short, we consider you a prime suspect.”
So Woon’s tone was sharp.
—What trivial concerns. Deaths are common in times like these. Taxes won’t change significantly, nor will the flow of money to the upper echelons. The rest is merely a matter of connections and politics. Fortunately, the Inspectorate understands this dynamic quite well.
Recalling the Zhifu’s words, Jeong Yeon-shin turned his gaze to Yulha Nangnang.
“Do they see me only as Gwangye Chaeju?”
“Is it not unbecoming for a mere vagabond to question such matters? If a Censorate Inspector requires you, you must comply. After all, we’ve known each other for quite some time.”
She replied with a serene smile, suggesting she had lured a corrupt official into her trap.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded silently before speaking.
“Let us hear what the Sect Leader wishes to say first.”
“You dare...!”
So Woon’s lips trembled with rage. His indignation was only natural, for even if the Mount Hua Sect Leader’s words with Gwangye Chaeju seemed peculiar, the Censorate Inspectorate wielded power beyond rank.
From his perspective, hardened by disdain for martial artists due to Ipwang Fortress’s dominance, the arrogant attitude of this unorthodox leader was intolerable.
Yet, contrary to his expectations, the Mount Hua Sect Leader nodded calmly in agreement with Jeong Yeon-shin.
“The world is in turmoil. Shaanxi, even more so.”
“I am aware. Even lying here, I have heard the rumors.”
Jeong Yeon-shin reflected on the reports he had received.
[The Gongchang Prefecture of Shaanxi saw the emergence of the Blade Specters' leader. Three factions in the prefecture were annihilated, and civilian casualties are mounting.]
[The Bongyu Prefecture of Shaanxi was targeted by the Bloodflame Cult’s First Apostle, who wiped out the populace, seemingly in search of something. They show no mercy, whether to civilians or martial artists.]
[Bloodthirsty ghosts of the Bloodflame Cult are spreading across Shaanxi. Clashes between martial factions occur frequently.]
“Please, have a seat. You as well, Swordswoman Dragon.”
Ma Gwang-ik moved the writing materials and books on the table aside.
The faint scent of ink still lingered on the cover of one particular manuscript, momentarily revealed between his fingers.
The Comprehensive Index of Destruction.
By Seomye.
The neatly penned title in formal script caught the attention of both Yulha Nangnang and Wei Ji Myo-hwa as they stepped into the pavilion.