BOOM!
The recoil from the wave of the palm technique was immense. Jeong Yeon-shin immediately concentrated additional energy into the meridians of his right arm.
The long path of the Twelve Standard Meridians of the Large Intestine, from his shoulder to his index finger, displayed the solid resilience of his Su Yangming Large Intestine Meridian (手陽明大腸經).
This technique was a preventative measure to keep his shoulder from dislocating due to the immense backlash.
CRAAACK!
Yet, even with this, he was forced backward. The feeling of his feet carving grooves into the dirt below was rough and unyielding.
The blast of energy stormed outward in all directions, kicking up clouds of yellow dust. The thick haze blurred his vision.
“As expected.”
The sensation of his strike connecting had been faint. In the split second prior, the Seventh Apostle had distanced herself with lightning-fast footwork, her martial aura swelling rapidly in that brief moment.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s direct attack at close range had been evaded.
Her response, as if she had predicted it, was typical of a cunning and adaptable master.
Though weakened compared to her peak state, the Seventh Apostle’s movements were still formidable. Her evasion had been only a fraction slower than usual.
Yet she wasn’t as weak as she appeared. Her frail demeanor was partly an exaggeration—a calculated façade.
She remained dangerous. Was she trying to evoke sympathy?
“What are you scheming?”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke while staring through the dusty air. The silhouette of the Seventh Apostle stood five paces away, her figure imposing despite her slight retreat.
With a mere wave of her hand, a hot summer breeze swept through the air, clearing the dust and restoring visibility.
Her flowing black hair cascaded down her back, revealing her crimson eyes and her lips, curved into a faint smile.
“You... created a new martial art, didn’t you?”
The Seventh Apostle ran her hand gently over her abdomen. Her red Celestial Silk Robe (천잠사 무복) clung to her as if soaked, revealing a slight indentation.
She had failed to fully absorb the force of Jeong Yeon-shin’s attack.
This meant one thing: her usually impenetrable Protective Qi (호신기) had been momentarily breached.
The implications were profound. Jeong Yeon-shin now possessed an attack capable of piercing even the Black Domain, a significant milestone.
Someday, this technique might save his life—a Life-Saving Absolute Move (구명절초).
‘Hitting is one thing. Landing the strike is another.’
It was difficult to deliver the necessary speed and precision. The setup for the technique was conspicuous, and its flow of energy too pronounced.
Suppressing his sense of accomplishment, Jeong Yeon-shin fixed his gaze on the Seventh Apostle, who began speaking with a manic grin.
“Even though it wasn’t a direct hit... this is impressive.”
Her lips curled into an innocent smile.
“Had it landed properly, I doubt I’d have survived. Incredible!”
She looked at him with genuine excitement, her crimson eye glittering brightly, as if even the hidden eye beneath her black eyepatch could see his potential.
“I asked you. What are you plotting?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to take the Taesa.”
Her voice softened, her gaze dropping briefly as she trailed off.
Her demeanor shifted. In that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin grasped an undeniable truth about the martial world:
Power defined freedom.
His growth, aided by Namgung Hwa-shin’s presence, had transformed him.
True liberty belonged solely to the strong. The logic of the martial world was simple and unforgiving.
As a Seomye, with refined martial prowess, and alongside the power exuded by the White Qilin, Jeong Yeon-shin was now a force even the injured Seventh Apostle couldn’t capture with impunity.
‘I’ll end it here.’
Jeong Yeon-shin made his decision.
This was the moment to strike. It was rare to find the Seventh Apostle in such a weakened state. She was a clear and present danger, second only to the Blade Specter Lord.
“My Taesa. Come with me, won’t you?”
Her tone was sincere, almost pleading.
It was laughable, coming from someone who had drained the life essence from countless victims.
Where was the ruthless master of the Blood Flame Cult, the one who had effortlessly subdued him at Qingya Valley?
Jeong Yeon-shin studied her carefully. Her bright red lips were curled faintly upward—a sign of hesitation.
She knew she couldn’t subdue him easily, yet she had no intention of leaving. Was she planning to cling to him, as she had back at the cult’s main base?
“Your Blood Art.”
When Jeong Yeon-shin finally spoke, her face lit up with hope.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve perfected the formula. It’s within me now.”
Whoosh!
As he activated the Mara’s Roaring Blood Technique (마라굉혈공), an eerie aura emerged.
Invisible waves of true qi exploded outward from his body, transforming the calm energy he had been exuding into a ferocious, demonic force.
The hissing sound of a serpent’s tongue filled the air, amplifying the sinister atmosphere.
Sssss—
Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression, however, remained calm. There was no trace of the characteristic madness of blood techniques in his demeanor.
The energy surrounding him, known among the Blood Flame Cult as “pure blood energy,” now enveloped his body entirely.
In an instant, his blue Ipwang Fortress martial robe seemed to transform into a Pureblood Robe (순혈포).
He had refined the fourth stance and completely modified the technique’s formula, retaining only its explosive power and lethal intent.
Any master familiar with Mara’s Roaring Blood Technique would immediately sense the difference.
“Ah...!”
The Seventh Apostle let out a sound of astonished delight. Her face, now flushed with heat, reflected her elation.
“The hundred-character formula is complete. I’ll grant you four characters each time you block one of my ambushes.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice was calm, as he wagered the secret formula of a martial art against their confrontation.
“Namgung So-hyeop and I will continue moving. You are to maintain a minimum distance of three hundred jang (approximately 900 meters). Only I am allowed to close that gap. If you break this rule, I’ll take one of your arms. Even if I die, I’ll make sure you lose a limb.”
The harshness of Jeong Yeon-shin’s tone, amplified by the energy of his blood art, sounded like a demonic voice from the Eighteen Hells of Buddhist Lore.
Namgung Hwa-shin, observing from nearby, thought silently, “What a profound mind. Not a single reckless move.”
Despite their dire situation, Namgung Hwa-shin remained steadfast, awed by Jeong Yeon-shin’s calculated audacity.
“What’s this?”
The Seventh Apostle laughed, clearly entertained.
The offer was absurd—a hundred-character formula, given four characters at a time, in exchange for her compliance.
If she ambushed him twenty-five times, she would gain the complete formula. Yet, she could not kill him, bound by her own obsession and past actions.
However, if she attempted to capture him recklessly, she would face both Jeong Yeon-shin and the White Qilin’s combined assault.
Even she hesitated to risk such a scenario. With her injuries, losing an arm was a real possibility.
The situation had shifted entirely.
“If you agree, leave now.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice cut through the tension.
The Seventh Apostle’s smile grew faintly amused.
“And what if you give me a fake formula?”
“I have no reason to pull such a cheap trick. You’d notice it immediately, wouldn’t you?”
“What if you don’t ambush me?”
“You’re just like the other selfish martial clans—ignorant of debts and grudges. This grudge is of your own making. You’ll die by my hand.”
His tone was steady, filled with quiet determination.
Bound to an unwanted title, forced to endure relentless pressure, Jeong Yeon-shin had lived the past month in constant tension. Forgiveness was not an option.
The Seventh Apostle stared at him in silence before slowly responding.
“Four characters is too little. Six.”
Her proposal was casual, her tone light.
Namgung Hwa-shin’s face flickered with faint alarm.
Standing beside Jeong Yeon-shin, her hand gripped the hilt of her sword tightly.
“As expected of a madwoman of the demonic cult.”
Jeong Yeon-shin muttered as he responded.
“I’m not a merchant.”
“Six characters.”
“Five.”
“Fine. I look forward to savoring your skill, my Taesa.”
The Seventh Apostle grinned.
The surrounding air grew colder, as if the sun above had lost its warmth. The immense release of blood energy had altered the atmosphere.
The once-green vegetation near the road began to wither. Leaves scattered as a dry, qi-laden wind passed through.
Without a word, Jeong Yeon-shin withdrew his Mara’s Roaring Blood Technique.
A trade of martial secrets and threats of violence—this, too, was the way of the martial world.
“Go.”
“Until next time.”
Her unsettlingly casual farewell heightened the tension.
At a distance of three hundred jang, she would still pose a threat.
Even as she departed, her Protective Qi ensured she would monitor their every move. No messengers or carrier pigeons would escape her watchful gaze.
Rustle.
Her red Pureblood Robe fluttered briefly as her figure vanished with light steps, blending into the horizon.
Namgung Hwa-shin, watching her retreat, finally broke the silence.
“From the start, it felt like a storm. If she tries to return, she’ll cover the three hundred jang in an instant.”
“She accepted because the distance was reasonable,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
“You’re bold, So-hyeop. I thought you would settle this here and now.”
“Demonic sect warriors are selfish. Unless the fight is clearly in their favor, they hesitate. Even if we die, that madwoman knows she’ll lose a limb in the process.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke from his experience with the Thirteen Heavens. Namgung Hwa-shin nodded.
“But will you really ambush her twenty times?”
“We can’t let her recover. If we don’t act now, she’ll become an even greater threat. We must press the attack while her regeneration abilities are limited. Of course, when the time comes...”
“Naturally, I’ll be by your side. Don’t worry. This will be another lesson for me.”
Namgung Hwa-shin smiled as she met Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze, her expression clear and determined.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips curved faintly.
“We’ll make it back alive. The mission will succeed.”
“Of course.”
Even from the first day of their journey, unforeseen challenges had arisen. Thus began their strange odyssey through the martial world.
***
It had been seven days and nights since Chang Ryeong-hwaju Namgung Mi had departed from the main residence of the Namgung family.
She had given the martial artists of Chang Ryeong-hwa the opportunity to accompany her.
With nothing more than a slight hand gesture and a single smile, she had been joined by six of them.
No attendants accompanied her. She anticipated the rough journey through the martial world.
"Too cumbersome."
It was of little concern. She naturally turned the Chang Ryeong-hwa martial artists into her makeshift attendants.
The charm of a high-born young lady, strong and beautiful, was undeniable.
The six elite martial artists divided the labor of the journey amongst themselves without complaint.
For them, this expedition was more than a simple journey. It was a righteous mission to punish the unruly forces of Ipwang Fortress.
"A duel to the death? How insolent and disgraceful!"
"How can we rush to assist without even knowing who that brat is? It was a battlefield. It’s only natural to assess the situation first."
"Ha! There’s no law in the Great Ming Code that obliges us to welcome warriors from Ipwang Fortress!"
Traveling alongside the family's prized warhorses, they eventually arrived in Wuchang (무창), a city within the Huguang region, known for its relay stations.
Two more provinces lay ahead before they would reach Yangyang, where Ipwang Fortress was located.
The Daebang Sect, renowned for its unparalleled intelligence network, was aware of the general behavior of the warriors from Ipwang Fortress.
They knew that the relay stations along the route were frequently used by them.
Upon entering the city, they began to move according to their plan.
CRASH!
The wooden plaque of a gate bearing the inscription "Gate of the Wise Master (현사문)" was shattered into pieces. The name of the sect symbolized wisdom and virtue.
In reality, it was a façade—a rogue sect preying on commoners under the guise of propriety.
"Who dares to act so recklessly?!"
The sect leader’s roar was abruptly silenced as his head was severed in one clean strike.
It was Namgung Mi’s swordsmanship, freezing even the roof’s ridges as her sword cleaved through.
Under the blazing midday sun, the chill emanating from her body condensed into pure white vapor.
"What...?"
The enemies faltered, stunned by the sight before them.
With her Cold Ice Qi (한빙지기) surrounding her, the celestial beauty seemed otherworldly, untouchable.
There was no one among them who could stand against her.
The martial artists of Chang Ryeong-hwa, also under the Namgung family banner, were on an entirely different level compared to the local rogue sect.
The radiant flashes of her sword cut through the Gate of the Wise Master’s followers with ease.
In less than half an hour, the sect was annihilated.
Stepping back into the bustling streets of Wuchang, the group announced their deed.
"Listen here!"
Bloodied yet composed figures, clad in high-quality martial robes, emerged into the public eye.
The chaos of a martial world battle had already spread word quickly.
The crowd, a mix of fear and awe, looked on, unsure of what to do.
One of the Chang Ryeong-hwa martial artists held up the severed head of the sect leader.
"Here stands Chang Ryeong-hwaju of the Namgung family, who has slain the leader of the rogue Gate of the Wise Master! The Namgung family will establish a branch here in its place, ensuring peace and security for all. Rest assured and carry on with your livelihoods!"
"The Namgung family... Namgung Clan?"
"Chang Ryeong-hwaju? Isn’t she one of the famous Nine Phoenixes (구봉)?"
"With such beauty and her aura, it makes sense...!"
The murmurs spread among the martial artists and commoners alike. Even those wary of getting entangled in martial sect conflicts were drawn into the moment.
The crowd grew, their unease giving way to cheers.
The Namgung family, revered as the foremost righteous clan in the martial world, had come to protect them.
In these times of successive poor harvests, when even daily sustenance was scarce, the reckless acts of rogue martial artists had begun to disrupt the livelihoods of the people.
What mattered most at that moment was the promise of immediate safety.
"What is this miracle?"
"The Namgung family! Truly, thank you!"
"The young lady is so beautiful, like a celestial maiden..."
Men and women, young and old alike, praised the Namgung family.
Namgung Mi responded to their cheers with a radiant smile, blending effortlessly with the white sunlight. The applause grew even louder.
"My brother should have been here," she murmured softly, her smile unwavering.
Namgung Se-jin, the Blue Qilin, had been unable to join her.
His responsibilities as the family heir weighed heavily, preventing him from leaving. He awaited the formal schedule for the duel against Ipwang Fortress.
"This is easy," she thought, her smile playful.
While awaiting the imperial watchdogs, she had effortlessly won over the hearts of Wuchang’s people.
It was a simple task that required little of the family’s resources.
She had no fondness for Ipwang Fortress, whose members paraded the martial world, masquerading as lone knights championing the common folk.
Everyone would support her. That was how it should be.
Just then, a voice rang out.
"You despicable fiends! How could you kill innocent servants?"
The shout came from a young boy, who then disappeared into the distance. His running speed was remarkable, and there was an inexplicable dignity in his bearing.
"Killed a servant?"
The crowd murmured in confusion. Public sentiment was quick to shift, especially regarding the actions of a prominent clan like Namgung.
Unlike sects practicing in seclusion or Ipwang Fortress, whose ideals centered on aiding the common folk, established families like Namgung often faced scrutiny.
"Fools," Namgung Mi thought, her smile widening into an icy grin.
Several third-rate martial artists had fled in panic earlier, and some among them might not have practiced martial arts.
Perhaps her own martial artists had cut them down.
"Silence them," she ordered, her voice transmitted through a short whisper.
One of the Chang Ryeong-hwa martial artists nodded and moved to act.
Far beyond the crowd's earshot, in the corner of an inn, two figures whispered.
"Namgung So-hyeop."
"Well done. To counter my sister, this is the way. I endured much as a child, so I knew she wouldn’t sit idly at the main residence. Waiting a day at the relay station was worth it. Good thing I bought extra clothes. Being pursued by the Seventh Apostle didn’t hurt either."
"Do you think there’s reason to postpone the duel?"
"Her temperament has grown more volatile."
"There’s a lingering yin energy (음기) that hasn’t dissipated."
"Exactly. Her qi cultivation wouldn’t have changed so drastically unless she consumed a potent elixir. If she commits fully, even approaching her will be difficult... Why do you ask?"
"Ten seconds."
"What?"
"Perhaps ten seconds will be enough."
The boy replied.