Jeong Yeon-shin sat at the tea table alongside Namgung Hwa-shin. Across from him sat another figure, whom he observed silently.
The man appeared to be in his late twenties, a strikingly handsome young man with gentle, downturned eyes.
His slightly pursed lips seemed to exude an unyielding resolve.
He was the young master of the Namgung Clan.
‘They said he is the elder brother of White Qilin So-hyeop.’
Blue Qilin Namgung Se-jin.
He had once been considered the finest talent among the younger generation in Nanjili. That was a tale of the past, however.
Recently, the martial world had ceased to discuss him as part of the realm of younger talents.
His physique appeared as solid as his refined appearance.
The luxurious, indigo robe of fine silk he wore seemed like an extension of his body, even darker in hue than the blue martial robes of Ipwang Fortress.
Clink.
A swordswoman with long hair from the Namgung Clan poured the tea herself.
Despite the intensity of her aura, her movements were cautious. She seemed unbothered by performing the role of a servant.
In fact, it appeared voluntary.
“Thank you, Yeon-mae,” Namgung Se-jin said.
“...”
She responded to the young master’s words with a faint smile before retreating.
She then stationed herself by the door of the annex, standing guard.
The area was already heavily secured by Namgung Clan warriors. It was a scene fitting for someone of utmost importance.
‘They say the Namgung Clan in Nanjili is like royalty.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought, the rumors now feeling true.
“You look well,” Namgung Se-jin began, gazing warmly at Namgung Hwa-shin.
“I’ve heard Ipwang Fortress is a sect with strict laws. I was worried, but it seems the air of Yangyang in Hoguang Province suits you. You’ve grown much stronger.”
“...It’s thanks to you, Brother.”
“I may have contributed a little,” the young master replied with a playful smile.
“I cannot tell you how much scolding I endured. I was severely punished for aiding your departure. I had to undergo a month of seclusion.”
“Ah...”
“Because I was concerned about you, I achieved nothing significant during that time. The Emperor Sword Form remains a difficult discipline. Who knows when I will master it?”
“I am sorry.”
Namgung Hwa-shin bowed his head. His demeanor was entirely different from when he dealt with Namgung Mi.
Sitting beside him, Jeong Yeon-shin thought the display was understandable.
The young master continued, “I understand your feelings about volunteering for the duel. Since it’s impossible to prevent Ipwang Fortress’s events, you must have decided to resolve matters yourself. It’s both regrettable and admirable.”
“Brother...”
“This is merely the result of karma from the main family.”
His words were muttered like a chant before he slightly turned his head.
“And you must be...”
His steady gaze landed on Jeong Yeon-shin. It was intense. Jeong Yeon-shin did not avoid his eyes and met them evenly.
“The Seomye of Ipwang Fortress. We’ve met before, haven’t we? Your sound-based martial techniques in Qingya Valley were... highly impressive.”
“I’d like to speak about Namgung Mi’s situation,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied, his voice calm as he held his teacup.
The young master shook his head.
“Are you referring to the demonic martial artist who suddenly appeared? It’s fine. She may be my sister, but A-mi carries many sins.”
“Hm...?”
“As the young master of the main family, I investigated the Wuchang sect incident. She handled it in her own way. As her elder brother, I deeply regret not guiding her properly. She has accumulated grudges for a long time—it was bound to erupt at some point.”
“Brother!”
Namgung Mi’s sharp voice rang out from the adjacent guestroom.
The young master briefly closed his eyes and reopened them. His disregard for his sister was evident.
Perhaps it was due to the immense martial energy he possessed as the heir of the Namgung Clan—or simply his personality.
The radiant light in his eyes burned clearly, devoid of emotion.
He turned back to Jeong Yeon-shin and spoke.
“I, too, am a narrow-minded man like the elders of our clan. Even now, after seeing you, I’ve wrestled with my thoughts. But I believe this is the right course of action.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should have started by apologizing to you.”
After finishing his sentence, the young master stood from his seat.
Swish.
He stepped to the side of the tea table.
Then, his body slowly bent forward. He extended his hands and bowed deeply.
There was no sign that he would stop until his upper body nearly touched the ground. Gasps filled the room.
Thus, the young master of the Namgung Clan bowed to a sixteen-year-old boy from a rival sect.
“They call it the bow of a hundredfold apology. It is an apology long overdue. Though it may not carry the weight of the Namgung name, this is...”
His voice resonated low from his bowed position.
“My deep gratitude for your support of Namgung in Qingya Valley, my apology as the young master of Namgung for repaying your kindness with betrayal, and my inadequate attempt to face the duel with even a shred of dignity.”
“...”
A heavy silence descended over the surroundings.
They said a martial artist who held dominion over an entire province was no less than a king of a small nation.
Namgung Se-jin, the man poised to become the ruler of Nanjili’s martial world, was akin to a crown prince. His strength and authority supported such claims.
Jeong Yeon-shin gazed down with a calm expression.
Namgung Se-jin showed no sign of rising. His determination appeared resolute.
‘This man’s swordsmanship must be terrifying.’
The boy betrayed no change in his expression. Internally, however, he was unsettled.
Namgung Se-jin was a man of unwavering principles, someone who clearly distinguished between kindness and enmity.
Jeong Yeon-shin had not expected his opponent in the life-and-death duel to be such a man.
“I dare not ask for forgiveness. I know this bow cannot absolve Namgung’s sins. The duel has already been set, so all I ask is that you accept it.”
The young master remained bowed for a long time.
Namgung Hwa-shin watched in silence, his expression tinged with bitterness.
As the Namgung Clan’s warriors, each bearing different expressions, stood by, Jeong Yeon-shin sipped his tea before speaking.
“You’re right. The life-and-death duel is already decided. One of us must die, so there’s no point in debating its meaning now.”
“...”
“I’ll accept your apology. You may rise and speak of your purpose here.”
“Thank you,” the young master said, rising and brushing himself off.
Slowly, he lifted his head. His face carried a faint, awkward smile.
‘Even his heart seems refined.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
The man before him possessed an unyielding inner strength. It was both chilling and intriguing.
What kind of path of the sword does he walk?
***
“I’ve heard that you encountered some troubles on your way here. I’ve come to protect my sister, A-shin, and you,” said Namgung Se-jin, his tone steady. “Of course, my subordinates will not follow us. How could I expect you, Seomye, to trust us otherwise?”
The young master of the Namgung Clan acted as he had promised. He dismissed all the martial artists of the Namgung Clan who had accompanied him.
“Young Master, it would be best if you maintained your position,” one of them protested.
“Wandering freely across the martial world is for vagabonds,” Namgung Se-jin replied sharply.
Some of them were reluctant to leave, understandably so.
The Namgung Clan of Huizhou was one of the foremost noble families in the orthodox sects, often hailed as the greatest in the world.
A young master of their lineage was not someone who could casually roam the martial world.
“Do not disgrace me further. It’s shameful enough for me to face the martial artists of Ipwang Fortress with your behavior. Do not even think of following me from a distance. Disobedience will be punished under my authority as the young master.”
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With those resolute words, Namgung Se-jin expelled them all, his demeanor unwavering.
Namgung Mi attempted to accompany her subordinates, but the young master stopped her with a shake of his head.
“The vitality of Ethereal Needle Acupuncture is miraculous. I know your body has recovered. This might be your final journey in the martial world. Have we siblings ever traveled together peacefully across the land?”
“Final journey? What nonsense—!”
“Follow me. Huizhou is close. It will only take a few days.”
And so, there were four of them left: Jeong Yeon-shin, Namgung Hwa-shin, Namgung Mi, and Namgung Se-jin.
Their party, having spent five unplanned days in Hwangju, set off.
Quietly, they treaded through the forest paths. Occasionally, eight footprints marked the golden, dappled earth.
If the Seventh Apostle was following Jeong Yeon-shin, ten sets of prints might have been more accurate.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s party, comprising Namgung Hwa-shin, Namgung Mi, and Namgung Se-jin, was hardly one for casual camaraderie. Someone had to die.
Only the occasional wry remarks from Namgung Se-jin broke the tension, scattering the dust beneath their feet.
“It’s a good thing,” Namgung Se-jin said suddenly, his smile refined as he glanced between Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin.
“The names of Seomye and White Qilin are starting to spread beyond Hoguang Province. If you two survive, cherish the bond of rivalry. True adversaries temper each other into divine swords. I had that with the Flaming Dragon of the Hwangbo Clan... though I hear he’s now imprisoned in Ipwang Fortress.”
“I wonder how he’s still alive,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied. He recalled the man, whose wild expression and opium-induced stupor were unforgettable. It was hard to imagine him as a companion of Namgung Se-jin.
“He seemed carefree, but he was a foolish friend,” Namgung Se-jin said. “He wanted to escape his clan but only dreamed of it. We shared many similarities, though we walked different paths. Perhaps he achieved his dream in some way... Yet the martial world is unpredictable.”
The young master chuckled bitterly.
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin and the others turned as one.
“Is the Seomye of Ipwang Fortress here?”
A booming voice infused with internal energy echoed through the forest. It was less of a question and more of a declaration.
A group of martial artists charged toward them from the rear at an alarming speed. All were armed.
There appeared to be about twenty of them, and the collective surge of energy they emitted was no small matter.
The tranquil forest air was disrupted, swaying like a gale.
“The boy in blue from Ipwang Fortress! Prepare to face the punishment of the Great Duke of Simmuryun!”
Among them was an exceptionally skilled individual. The apparent leader darted ahead at incredible speed, his sword already drawn.
Sssaaak!
Without any consideration of right or wrong, a sword strike came flying.
‘Simmuryun,’ Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
He immediately recalled his journey to craft Purifying Azure Subjugation Energy.
It had been during a mission aboard a ship with Yuanjong Seonsa of Shaolin and younger martial artists of the Thirteen Heavens.
At that time, he had executed a woman named Geomye Hwaran for threatening an innocent family.
Later, Ma Jin had warned him: the woman was engaged, and he should expect grudges.
The Thirteen Heavens included enemies Jeong Yeon-shin had clashed with—Blade Specters, the Bloodflame Cult, and now, Simmuryun.
When Ipwang Fortress sent a formal challenge to the Namgung Clan, the martial world had been shaken.
The duelists’ names were well-known, and their path to Nanjili was predictable. Spending five days in Hwangju had only made them more conspicuous.
‘It’s no surprise they’re pursuing us.’
Prepared for this, Jeong Yeon-shin gripped the hilt of the Ipwang Sword and retaliated.
Clang!
His draw was met with a clash of blades. The impact of his opponent’s strike reverberated to his hand.
The power behind the blow was extraordinary, far beyond average.
“A great duke?” Jeong Yeon-shin muttered.
“I am the Captain of One Hundred in Simmuryun! The great duke has sent me to punish you!”
The middle-aged man shouted with a voice like a lion’s roar.
So, it wasn’t the duke himself, Jeong Yeon-shin noted internally.
The captain claimed to lead a hundred men, yet he had only brought twenty. That was a secondary concern.
Time was running out, and the number of enemies kept increasing. A grim thought crossed his mind: Would I die before I achieved my goals?
It was then that an overwhelming presence emerged from the front, where the Simmuryun warriors were advancing.
The young master’s aura erupted like a tidal wave, displacing the air in its wake.
Whooosh—!
The Simmuryun warriors abruptly slowed, their movements nearly frozen.
‘No,’ Jeong Yeon-shin realized.
They weren’t just slow—they weren’t moving at all. The twenty warriors were as good as statues.
It was a surreal sight. These were practitioners of advanced internal energy techniques from the Thirteen Heavens.
This was no ordinary feat.
The realm of Namgung Se-jin’s Emperor Sword Form transcended the limits of human martial prowess.
“Emperor... Sword Form...” Namgung Hwa-shin murmured in awe as he had drawn his sword alongside Jeong Yeon-shin.
While Jeong Yeon-shin was locked in combat with the captain, Namgung Se-jin had stepped forward to confront the subordinates.
The true power of the Emperor Sword Form unfolded before their eyes. This was the unparalleled martial art of the Namgung Clan.
“Blue Qilin! Why do you interfere? Ipwang Fortress is a public enemy of the martial world! We should slaughter these pests and then resolve our business!”
The captain bellowed as he struggled against Jeong Yeon-shin’s blade.
Namgung Se-jin did not respond. Maintaining his technique, he turned to Jeong Yeon-shin.
“I heard recently that you took the head of Palgung Nachalgeom of Blade Specters. Word has even reached Nanjili. Did you know the beggars of the Beggar’s Sect were present at the time? They call themselves parasites, but their insight is second to none. Thanks to them, I was able to purchase excellent information.”
He turned back toward the immobilized Simmuryun warriors, all armed but unable to move.
“I’ve heard you’re skilled at breaking and dismantling forms, Seomye. You’re good at unraveling and destroying techniques. That’s why I won’t show you my sword techniques yet.”
“Haaargh!”
The warriors trapped within the Emperor Sword Form roared, but none of them could move.
In that suffocating field, only Namgung Se-jin remained unimpeded.
With his resplendent treasured sword drawn, he began walking leisurely along the forest path.
One by one, he severed the necks of the frozen warriors.
His steps were leisurely, yet each exuded dignity.
No one could counter his strikes, not because they didn’t try, but because they couldn’t move.
Each breath of despair was snuffed out in a single stroke.
This was the essence of Chukmamaeolsa—the ruthless eradication of demonic sect practitioners.
Despite their supposed righteousness, the martial artists of orthodox sects showed no mercy in their strikes.
When the last subordinate of the captain had fallen, Namgung Se-jin quietly asked, “What do you think?”
“Seomye, could you break through this?”
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. Instead, he swiftly reversed his grip on the Ipwang Sword and hurled it with explosive energy.
As the captain deflected the blade, Jeong Yeon-shin charged forward.
Grabbing the stunned man’s sword, he placed his left palm against his abdomen.
At that moment, he simultaneously activated Mara’s Roaring Blood Technique and Purifying Azure Subjugation Energy, merging their opposing forces into one cohesive strike.
Sssaaak!
Jeong Yeon-shin held nothing back. He unleashed the incomplete technique in full.
The sheer force of the impact shook the surrounding trees and sent flocks of birds scattering.
“...”
The captain’s mangled body was flung far away, barely recognizable.
Jeong Yeon-shin wiped the blood from his hands and turned his head.
Namgung Hwa-shin looked at him with a slightly furrowed brow, while Namgung Mi’s face betrayed outright shock.
Jeong Yeon-shin locked eyes with Namgung Se-jin, who stood calm and composed.
“I’ve shown you,” the boy said.
The duel had already begun.