The pure white sword blade beneath Baek Seo-gun’s feet shimmered as she turned her head. Her gaze swept across the assembled crowd, briefly resting on the commoners who had agreed with Salhyup’s words.
There was an aura of divinity about her, a presence so profound that even those ignorant of Jianghu instinctively bowed their heads.
To the common folk, sword-flight was a skill passed down through Taoist legends, a technique of Sword Immortal Lu Dongbin himself.
"A sacred artifact?"
Her voice was clear and steady, carrying weight despite its softness.
Her transparent gaze descended from the sky, yet Salhyup—unlike most warriors—did not flinch under it.
He met it fearlessly, as if he had encountered beings of the highest caliber before—masters like Kwon Mugong, Ma Gwang-ik, and Yeongcheon Sword Demon.
"Yes," he replied smoothly. "It is an object left behind by Ma Gwang-ik, who took the life of Eon Hwayeon, the first master of the Eon Family’s Supreme Fist. There is no one here with a personal connection to her. Who else would take it?"
His fingers absently adjusted the black silk wrapped around his mouth, a gesture that carried an air of mockery.
He appeared to be mulling over the relationship between Ma Gwang-ik and the Sword Master of Shim Mu-ryeon, his natural elegance laced with subtle craftiness.
"Who are you?"
Baek Seo-gun’s voice was calm.
She did not comment on the artifact.
The moment her eyes flicked downward, a strange breeze arose, chilling the garments of the noble martial masters surrounding her.
The mere presence of her pitch-black pupils exuded overwhelming energy.
Her gaze briefly lingered on the pebble at Salhyup’s feet before she seemed to grasp the situation entirely.
The noble clans and commoners reacted differently.
Some muttered in shock, still struggling to comprehend the reality of sword-flight.
"The Sword Demon of Henan... Why is she in Shanxi?"
"That technique is real? I thought it was merely a legend..."
Read latest chapters at freёweɓnovel.com Only.
"A celestial maiden has descended! No, a divine general!"
Among the stunned crowd, Salhyup stood unshaken.
He tilted his black sakkat slightly upward, revealing more of his face.
"I must apologize," he said with a smile. "Due to some lingering enmities, I cannot share my true name... But in Shanxi, people have been so kind as to call me Salhyup."
He let out a lighthearted chuckle and exaggeratedly cupped his hands in a respectful bow.
As his jet-black sleeves shifted slightly, the taut muscles along his forearm became visible. His body was one forged through the mastery of extreme-speed swordsmanship.
Baek Seo-gun, still gazing down from above, remained indifferent.
"I do not know you."
"Of course you wouldn’t," Salhyup replied, his voice playful yet measured. "Compared to a revered Sword Master, I am but a lowly assassin. Only my school’s name carries any recognition—the Five-Month Execution Sect."
"The Five-Month Execution Sect...?"
For a brief moment, a glimmer of recognition passed through Baek Seo-gun’s ashen gaze.
The sharp light of internal energy flickered in her eyes.
Salhyup’s hand, which had been adjusting his sleeves, briefly paused.
But Baek Seo-gun paid him no further mind.
"I see where you come from," she said, her voice cold. "You have survived well... But that is of no concern to me."
She reached out her hand—and the artifact responded.
A dim glow shimmered at Salhyup’s feet as the sacred relic was drawn toward her.
It was not a vacuum technique.
She had retrieved it using the mystical properties of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) her sword.
The movement caused no significant energy fluctuations, but it was eerie enough to make the noble martial masters visibly tense.
The pebble coiled into her flowing gray sleeve without ever touching her skin.
It was clear to anyone watching—she cared about who would claim the artifact.
"Sword Master of Shim Mu-ryeon! We, the noble clans of Shanxi, were just about to mediate this matter!*"
"Would you not consider stepping down for a moment?"
The noble masters surrounding Salhyup raised their voices.
Despite their controlled manner, their killing intent was as sharp as blades.
They did not dare to make a move against Baek Seo-gun.
Even if they could defeat her, the real threat lay in the forces behind her—the army of Shim Mu-ryeon.
The Blood Flame Cult had numbers, but Shim Mu-ryeon had disciplined elites.
And their current master was openly referred to as the Military King Emperor.
It was one of the Thirteen Heavens’ ultimate titles.
Even with the imperial family and Ipwang Fortress keeping watch, such a title had spread across Jianghu.
The headquarters of Shim Mu-ryeon was in northwestern Henan, not far from Shanxi.
And now, its second-in-command was floating above them.
There was no one who wouldn’t hesitate.
Even as Baek Seo-gun turned her gaze toward the distant mountains, the noble clans instinctively lowered their voices.
"Sword Master, this is not how conflicts in Jianghu should be resolved.*"
"This dueling tournament was painstakingly prepared by our noble houses...!"
"Hmph."
Salhyup’s black silk mask quivered slightly.
"They are using Heart Sword techniques," he murmured. "They could kill a man from shame alone."
His voice carried a trace of laughter, but he did not lower his volume.
The noble clans did not respond rashly.
They had just witnessed the deadly duel between Eon Hwayeon and Ma Gwang-ik.
The crowd remained eerily silent, their gazes fixed on Baek Seo-gun—as if awaiting judgment.
But she was no longer paying attention.
She simply stared in the direction Ma Gwang-ik had gone.
Her feet wavered slightly on the floating sword.
For the first time since descending like an immortal, she hesitated.
"Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin."
The boy who had unraveled the principles of Go with his sword.
The young strategist who had once wielded his blade in the stance of Gija Jangseon.
He had been a source of solace in recent times.
Her identity had weighed on her for so long that even worldly luxuries felt meaningless.
But the principles she had once received from Jeong Ban-ak—
Now mirrored in the shape of Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword.
For the first time in years, she had felt a connection.
"If I had made a different choice, I might have walked through Shinyahyeon with you. But even so... I am relieved. You have received love where I could not give it. Your complexion is healthy. I wonder how you were raised."
The memories surged forth.
"Ah..."
The words from that day pressed against her chest like iron bars.
A cold weight coiled inside her, cracking the facade of the Sword Master.
For years, she had served as Jeong Ban-ak’s attendant.
It was a burden that had replayed endlessly in her mind.
She had to sever it.
Slowly, Baek Seo-gun shook her head.
She had to face it.
She had to stand as Baek Seo-gun, the Sword Master.
The gleaming white blade beneath her hummed—and shot into the sky.
And just like that—she disappeared.
***
A faint glow carved a long, straight line through the air.
Swaaaaash—!
The current Ma Gwang-ik was sprinting forward. The shredded wind erupted in a deafening roar behind him.
He cut straight across swamps and lakes as he encountered them.
The Ten Ri Light Stride incorporated the subtleties of Transcendent Flight and Level Step Crossing. It had been created with inspiration drawn from the noble clans.
It was a movement technique shaping Jeong Yeon-shin into a flawless martial artist.
Kwaaah!
A massive resistance pressed down on his skin, tightening around him. But Jeong Yeon-shin kept his eyes wide open. As he quickly scanned his surroundings with his ki perception, he meticulously observed the landscape passing through his vision.
‘It has to be this way.’
He traced the faint lingering traces of the powerful energy fluctuations left by the Deputy of the Divine Sword Unit and the Blood Sovereign Unit.
The distinctive and unfathomable qualities of their internal energy still remained. He relentlessly pursued them, occasionally activating his Sight Heaven Technique, refining it into a tracking method unique to himself.
At this moment, he had no reason to envy the tracking skills of the young herbalist Jang Sun-il, who had studied the Extinction Demon Anthology.
His pursuit was flawless.
‘But...’
The traces suddenly cut off, as if they had been forcefully severed, and then reappeared at a completely different location, beyond a snow-covered hillside obstructed by dense forest.
This was the third time.
It meant that the two seniors had been inside some kind of disconnected space. And they had continued to move.
Unless this was some fabled technique where immortals folded space itself, no ordinary martial technique could create such an effect.
It was a trace of something beyond comprehension. A sign of direct combat with Jegal Gaju.
Pak!
Jeong Yeon-shin kicked off the ground once more, his eyes narrowing. The battle had gone on for too long. That meant it had been at least an even match.
"Uh..."
For a moment, a chilling sensation crawled over his chest.
The spinning rings in his mind momentarily halted. A dull sound escaped his lips, a faint murmur leaking out as his thoughts instinctively veered towards the worst possibility.
Ak Su-rim and Jin Myeong-jo... dead?
‘No. That can’t happen.’
Boom!
A shockwave of energy burst from beneath his feet. The surrounding underbrush flattened in all directions, while fragments of shattered leaves scattered into the air, swept up by the wind.
"Sseomye! It's Sseomye!"
A girl’s voice suddenly grew louder from the sky above. At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin’s head snapped up, his eyes widening.
Flap! Flap!
A black garment billowed violently in the wind.
Short, jet-black hair streamed wildly in the air, distorting the space behind her with an enormous surge of movement energy. She had leaped from an incredible height.
"Get me some meat and blood! It’s not that urgent, so make sure to keep an eye on your surroundings!"
Ak Su-rim shouted from high above.
She was barely managing to balance a heavy, pitch-black figure on her narrow shoulders.
***
Crunch.
The dry grass of an unknown mountain crumbled beneath black leather boots.
Jeong Yeon-shin scanned his surroundings. He had been running in all directions, but finding no sign of life, he had stopped.
Jin Myeong-jo's condition was too critical for them to head straight into a city or town. He needed to probe deep underground.
He hadn’t even had the chance to hear the full story. The only thing that mattered was escaping from Jegal Gaju’s domain.
Ak Su-rim had immediately taken a seated meditation posture and begun circulating her internal energy.
She had already surpassed Three Flowers in Unity and was aiming for the Five Origins Returning to One. As an extreme master of internal cultivation, she didn’t need protection while she meditated.
‘Mountain beasts...’
It was a harsh winter of famine. They said even wild boars had become rare.
Even the most powerful martial artists struggled to detect them. That was why looting was rampant and strong warriors were valued.
Hoo—
A white breath escaped Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips.
It had already been an entire hour.
Yet the black-clad supreme martial artist had failed to make a single kill.
No one would believe that.
Was it due to his lack of experience? For the first time, he truly felt the severity of this famine.
‘Senior Jin needs the life force within fresh blood...’
Jeong Yeon-shin bit his lower lip slightly.
Suddenly, something massive caught his eye from the edge of his vision. Along with a sharp, bloody scent.
From a distance, a large form was floating in the air, gliding toward them. It moved as if someone was using an advanced light-body technique.
A dead wild boar.
"...?"
It hesitated, almost as if it were reluctant to approach, then finally dropped with a heavy thud.
The enormous beast rolled to a stop at Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet, its sheer presence unsettling.
It had been thrown to them.
But this was an age of chaos. No warrior who carried a sword would readily accept a gift like this. Even if it came from someone who had once helped them greatly.
"What the hell? Acting like a wildcat."
The current Ma Gwang-ik's gaze sharpened.