Yulha Nangnang glanced briefly at the title of the manuscript, Catalogue of Extermination and Demonic Suppression. Her lips parted.
“May I ask what this is? The title is... quite grandiose.”
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.
“It seems we should get to the main topic first.”
“Very well. Let’s do that.”
“What is the meaning of this behavior?”
The Inspector General stood below the pavilion, glaring, while the Huashan Sect Master and Ma Gwang-ik Lord sat facing each other. Hesitant, Wei Ji Myohwa finally took her seat in the center.
"Not long ago, the Heavenly Master sustained serious injuries from Il Sado. Fortunately, it wasn’t fatal.”
“...That is indeed fortunate.”
Jeong Yeon-shin replied, recalling the resolute face of the Heavenly Master of the Huashan Sect.
A supreme swordsman who had mastered the Subtle Fragrance of Plum Blossoms Technique. Jeong Yeon-shin had narrowly won against him during the Murim Alliance’s founding tournament. At the time, the Heavenly Master had already been injured internally, but he’d shown no discernible weakness.
Now, however, Jeong Yeon-shin had heard he was fighting for his life after falling to Il Sado of the Bloodflame Cult while Jeong had been recuperating.
“I came here to check on your condition. The forces of demonic and heretical sects rampaging through Shaanxi are too strong, and we lack enough skilled hands. The strife between the righteous and the unorthodox sects is another headache. Even inns and temples are in ruins.”
“My subordinates are working in the area.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice was calm. Currently, more than half of Ma Gwang-ik’s forces were out in disguise, maintaining order outside.
As their commander, Jeong had sent them. It was tiresome to endure the overly protective behavior of his comrades, who insisted on staying by his side out of concern for his safety.
They were sharp-eyed enough to notice the faint growth of his injured limbs and make a fuss over it. Even their teasing—spoon-feeding him and joking about the timing of his recovery—was difficult to tolerate.
“Enough already.”
The Lord's authority could not be ignored. His comrades had no choice but to leave and fulfill their duties as warriors of Ipwang Fortress.
“Of course, their efforts greatly contribute to the people’s welfare. However, the purpose of a sword varies. How many swordsmen can fill the Heavenly Master’s absence? You, too, are preoccupied with monitoring the Sword Lord.”
“The Sword Lord...”
Jeong Yeon-shin murmured the name that loomed like a fortress in his mind. Even the name itself exuded an overwhelming presence.
Yulha Nangnang’s sharp gaze studied Jeong's expression before she spoke.
“The blood fiends multiplying like insects are another issue. These are truly bleak times. Soon, I won’t be able to leave the main Huashan base myself. You should understand what that means, being someone of high rank. Huashan cannot abandon its own.”
“I will conduct myself as I see fit once I recover.”
“Good. There’s no need for me to meddle further.”
“Was that your primary purpose in coming here? To tell me that even Huashan is struggling to maintain control over Shaanxi?”
“I came to check on you as well,” Yulha Nangnang replied with a faint smile, her expression inscrutable.
She asked, “How old are you this year?”
The question was not new to Jeong Yeon-shin.
“I’ll be seventeen in fifteen days.”
Wei Ji Myohwa’s fingertips flinched slightly.
Yulha Nangnang chuckled.
“You must’ve faced no shortage of astonishment. Being called a prodigy, hearing that your martial prowess far surpasses your years.”
“Yes.”
Ma Gwang-ik Lord's response was succinct, yet even the refined lashes of the Huashan Sect Master twitched slightly at his humility.
“I see. Still, I regret not taking the time to offer guidance earlier. As a senior, it feels remiss.”
“What kind of guidance...?”
“Your body.”
For a brief moment, a faint crimson glow, like the hues of twilight, flickered in Yulha Nangnang’s eyes.
“Your Shin—your spirit—seems immensely developed. It is extraordinarily refined, so much so that it overshadows your remarkably trained physical body. It’s quite astonishing, almost divine. It’s as if you were born fulfilling the lifelong aspirations of Daoist cultivators. But this... doesn’t seem like a blessing. Judging by your expression, you already know this.”
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t ask why she had come to him despite their limited acquaintance. There was an old saying: Among peerless masters, none are without eccentricities.
—Those who manifest microcosms outside their own bodies—are they even human?
Invincible.
Talent like a divine blade at birth was secondary. Even relentless training came second. What truly forged absolute masters were their extreme circumstances and an obsession with martial arts that bordered on madness.
They accumulated these over decades, even centuries, to achieve an unmatched pinnacle.
“You probably survive on energy fruits, don’t you? But doesn’t the spirit residing in your lower danjeon reject the harmony of mind, energy, and body? With your brilliance and rapid achievements, you should already be nearing the Three Flowers Converge Upon the Crown stage. Yet you appear far from it.”
Her tone was archaic yet unrestrained, carrying the clear and noble essence of a pure white plum blossom.
“That’s true. You’re correct,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied, rather shamelessly. Yulha Nangnang appeared momentarily surprised but didn’t press further.
“Well, in any case, there’s no shortcut to mastering the Three Flowers Convergence. Even the leaders of the Thirteen Heavens cultivate the balance of mind, energy, and body. For you, this is likely the first wall you’ve encountered, but don’t be disheartened. Be a good friend to Yu Hyeon—he speaks of you often. It weighs on my mind.”
“You came here to tell me that?”
“I feared that, as a young martial artist, you might stray into the heretical path. Your current achievements are already significant within the martial world. Keep walking the path, and the fruit of your efforts will follow. Don’t let impatience take hold.”
Her voice was soft and her smile serene, radiating the demeanor of a righteous master.
Suddenly, warmth coursed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind.
It wasn’t reassurance. The Sacred Flame Swordsman couldn’t perceive the time he had left. She had merely shared her concerns as a senior warrior—gently, like twilight settling over the mountains.
Jeong Yeon-shin immediately raised his hands in salute.
“Once again, I owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you, Sect Master.”
Yulha Nangnang’s smile faltered briefly at his words, “once again,” but Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t notice.
His body was already worn to its limits. Time was now his lifeline, and his delay in progressing only added to his impatience.
But her words to take things slow had resonated deeply, sparking a new realization.
“I won’t let myself be constrained by the Three Flowers Convergence. There are countless paths to becoming stronger. I’ve thought of another way.”
He began to contemplate using his recovery period as an opportunity for seclusion and training.
“Other martial artists set aside dedicated time for training; perhaps I should try that as well.”
“Hmm...?”
***
The setting sun spilled over the pavilion's beams, casting long shadows across the lake.
It was moments after the head of the Mount Hua Sect had departed. Outside the pavilion, the Imperial Inspector So Un narrowed his eyes, contemplating.
Only now did he begin to grasp the intent behind Yulha Nangnang’s abrupt departure, leaving him behind so suddenly.
“That boy is not part of the Evil Path.”
He stroked his thick black beard downward, lost in thought.
He hadn’t overheard the entire conversation—at some point, a qi curtain had enveloped the pavilion, cutting off sound.
Even so, So Un was adept at reading between the lines. He had survived as an Imperial Inspector in a world overrun by martial arts, mysterious techniques, and the unexplainable.
Unlike some officials who relied on their rank and authority to recklessly confront martial artists, So Un had honed his perceptiveness into a razor-sharp tool, as reliable as any sword.
The boy before him was someone personally sought out by the head of the Mount Hua Sect.
He was receiving honored treatment at the So Baek Sect, the only one among the Seven Great Sects of the West to escape annihilation.
“Not only does he possess martial skill, but he has also gained considerable recognition within the martial world.”
Even the Sacred Fire Swordmaster, one of the most trusted protectors in the world, had abandoned her post to follow him.
Considering the Mount Hua Sect’s proximity to the Imperial Court and their staunch alignment with the Crown, it was an unthinkable decision. But it could only mean that the boy had enough power and status to warrant such faith.
“Allow me to formally introduce myself.”
So Un clasped his hands and bowed toward the man and woman descending from the pavilion.
“I am the eldest son of the Nanjing So Clan. After passing the Imperial Examination and receiving a seal from His Majesty, I was entrusted with overseeing the Shaanxi Provincial Office. Though the prestige of the regional lords may be high, it is no greater than the land beneath the Emperor’s feet. I believe the same applies to you, regardless of your rank or status.”
“...”
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had just stepped onto the ground, raised his head. Beside him, Wei Ji Myo-hwa wore an expression of subtle curiosity.
“So Un, Imperial Inspector.”
“Speak.”
“I have considered your purpose.”
Ma Gwang-ikju, as Jeong Yeon-shin was also called, curled his lips into a faint smile.
“But you lack the qualifications. If you want to learn of my identity, you’ll first need to reflect on your manner of speech.”
“What are you talking about—”
“Take him.”
Crack!
In an instant, a shadow shot out from the lakeside, moving with the force of a thunderbolt.
The figure executed a perfect linear glide-step, snatching So Un and vanishing into the distance. A rough gust of wind followed, leaving only stunned silence in its wake.
Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s eyes widened slightly.
“That just now...?”
“A colleague from the Bloodblade Guards, Surama Baek Na Il-cheon.”
“The Bloodblade Guards? Does this mean that the Lord of Blood Mystics at Ipwang Fortress handed over one of his subordinates?”
“Yes. He is one of the senior commanders I respect the most—not only for his martial skills but also for his exceptional character.”
Jeong Yeon-shin smiled faintly, a rare expression for him, and clenched his right hand before releasing it.
The dull pain coursing through his wrist and veins lingered. However, the wisdom imparted to him by the head of the Mount Hua Sect had been monumental.
He had never before immersed himself in study or training so intensively as to call it closed-door cultivation, yet a strange curiosity had begun to stir within him.
“With this, I’ve sent all my colleagues away...”
To grow stronger without passing through the Three Flowers Converging at the Crown state.
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For the first time, he set a clear, intermediate goal for his training.
He stood by the lakeside, where the pavilion floated above the shimmering water. The sunlight danced on the rippling waves, and Jeong Yeon-shin’s reflection stared back at him. His eyes glimmered with a brilliant blue radiance, filled with determination.
***
The year had turned.
Ma Gwang-ikju, also known as Seomye, was now truly seventeen.
Meanwhile, the vast Shaanxi region was growing increasingly chaotic.
Even as Ma Gwang-ikju rested and recuperated, the martial world moved ceaselessly.
The assassination of Gui Baek-shin, the Ghost of the Hundred Strikes, and the so-called Greatest Devil of Shaanxi had undoubtedly sent shockwaves through the martial community of Shaanxi.
In addition, the events at the Shaanxi branch of the Murim Alliance, attributed to the Guangye Chae faction, further solidified the reputation of the Guangye Chae Master as a rising power.
But the chaos that began with the annihilation of the Zhongnan Sect was like a storm. Every day brought new rumors and upheavals.
— "They say the First Apostle of the Bloodflame Cult is discussing dominance over Shaanxi using the Great Blood Accumulation Method. Apparently, the entire Fengyou County turned into a bloodbath in an instant. The Mount Hua Swordsmen were forced to retreat miserably..."
— "The title 'Shaanxi's Greatest' is more fitting for either the Blade Specter Patriarch or the Sacred Fire Swordmaster. The whole martial world is buzzing about when those two Grandmasters will finally clash. I hear that people in more fortunate areas are even placing bets on it."
— "You must be lucky to sit here debating martial world affairs. Who knows when those crazed blood demons will show up at your door? You’d better start packing your things."
— "Don’t be so dramatic. Just yesterday, the Zhamdo Sect and the Jin Family Manor clashed. They accused each other of harboring blood demons, but everyone knows it was just a dispute over field boundaries."
In a time of famine, territorial rights became more valuable than ever. Martial artists drew their blades not only to secure food but to establish control over fertile land.
Across countless locations, countless warriors clashed.
Amid this chaos, the Bloodflame Cult was expanding its territory, and the Blade Specter Clan, having lost Gui Baek-shin, was said to be frantically searching for the Guangye Chae Master. It was truly an age of disorder.
Then, a massive rumor erupted.
— "There’s a millennium-old He Shou Wu on Mount Taebaek’s Seven Maiden Peaks!"
Rumors of miraculous elixirs and herbs always drew blood.
Even if it was the scheme of someone trying to manipulate the chaos to their advantage, it made no difference. The rumor had to be investigated, whether true or not.
This was no exception.
A legendary herb like the He Shou Wu held immense value. It was said to cure all ailments and grant immense martial power.
Countless martial artists from all corners flocked to the location, including those from major sects.
The timing was peculiar.
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been secluded at the manor for the past month, now faced a new challenge.
Jeong Hye, who had been rendered unconscious, still had not awakened. Even though the Radiant Wheel Qi had neutralized the Heavenly Demon’s energy, her eyelids remained closed.
The owner of the manor, the leader of the So Baek Sect’s Zhongnan branch, had summoned a renowned physician, but she remained in a death-like sleep.
It was the sorcery of Shaanxi’s Greatest Devil, a practitioner of the Thirteen Heavens' arts. Even in death, the devil’s grip on Jeong Hye persisted.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood at the edge of the brown-tiled roof, his upper body still wrapped in bandages.
“Departure,” he muttered.
Flutter!
He draped a jet-black longcoat over his shoulders, the flowing fabric casting a shadow beneath the manor walls.
Attached to the coat’s shoulder was a small traveling sack, the bottom of which was angular, hinting at the shape of books within.
“This is a solo mission. Ma Gwang-ik will continue to oversee the people’s welfare.”
“What nonsense... Did you take my opium poppy again?”
Taeyeom-ryong emerged, scratching his ear, but Ma Gwang-ikju was already gone.