When Namgung Se-jin, the Azure Qilin, was struck by Jeong Yeon-shin's palm strike, chaos erupted from both sides. Namgung Clan experts reacted with fierce determination, but they weren’t the only ones to move forward. The Sword Corps of Ipwang Fortress also stepped into action.
The Sword Corps (Shingeomdae):
It was the first and foremost division under the command of the Divine Sword Division. Both in terms of founding and strength, it was unrivaled, hailed as the strongest force in Ipwang Fortress.
“Winning from such close quarters.”
“Look at the way he moves, seamlessly controlling the distance. That’s a natural talent.”
“Does anyone recognize that technique? I’ve heard that Seomye relies exclusively on unique martial arts.”
“Without formidable protective energy, anyone struck by that would die instantly. It’s like compressing the Hundred-Step Divine Fist into a single devastating blow at close range.”
“It seems to require significant preparation time. It’s neither particularly precise nor controlled—it relies entirely on the user’s instincts.”
“Even if you criticize its refinement... its sheer power qualifies it as a divine technique. Such force isn’t ordinary.”
The twenty members of the Sword Corps represented a broad spectrum of ages and appearances. Among them were men, women, and even a boy and girl, their external appearances deceptively varied.
A girl wearing a jet-black coat, with a spear strapped to her back, smirked.
“Look at those cowards, retreating in fear.”
“The old lady’s aura is overwhelming, sure, but I doubt it’s because of us. They’re Namgung, after all.”
A middle-aged man, who addressed the girl as an old lady despite her youthful appearance, added in a playful tone.
Nobody found this exchange odd. The martial world had its fair share of eccentric geniuses, and the experts of the Sword Corps were particularly renowned for their peculiarities.
“Please compose yourselves. We’re being watched by many.”
“Leave them be. When has our group ever stood on ceremony?”
Despite the gravity of the situation, their banter remained lighthearted. It was a group that naturally blended all levels of formality.
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They spent most of the year roaming the martial world together, tasked with ongoing missions for Ip-hwang Fortress. Their camaraderie mirrored that of wandering vagabonds.
However, their skills set them apart. Aside from their black-cloaked sub-commander, a supreme expert, every member was a peak-level martial artist.
Moreover, the leader, who also commanded the Sword Corps and the Divine Sword Division, was an absolute master of the violet realm. Bound by camaraderie, they carried themselves without regard for the judgment of others.
“But... doesn’t So-ga-ju’s power seem underwhelming? Perhaps something happened before the duel?”
“Does it matter? In the end, he fell.”
As Namgung Se-jin, the Azure Qilin, slowly collapsed, even the Sword Corps fell silent.
The death of a brilliant talent always brought a moment of quiet reverence. Namgung Se-jin, dignified to the end, was no exception.
A comet of the martial world, graced with unparalleled skill, spirit, and honor, had been extinguished. A new era for the martial world struggled to bloom, only to fade prematurely.
“...He was worthy of mourning,” one of them murmured.
“What a waste. Such a pity.”
“But that boy, Seomye—he looks like he intends to keep going, doesn’t he?”
A youthful member of the corps gestured toward Jeong Yeon-shin with his chin.
The boy indeed showed no signs of retreat. Gripping the Ipwang Sword, he had yet to sheathe it.
He simply stood there, watching as the Namgung Clan martial artists gathered Namgung Se-jin’s body.
The black-cloaked girl clicked her tongue.
“He’s not showing resolve; he’s in a state of emptiness. He’s probably in shock after defeating such an opponent. At that age, it’s not uncommon to fall into melancholic reflection.”
“Why don’t you bring him in, Grandma? If he really is in a trance-like state, even an average peak-level martial artist might struggle to handle him.”
The young man named So-ha looked uneasily at Seomye.
“You’re right.”
The girl grinned and dramatically clasped her hands to her lips before unleashing an immense surge of energy.
[Hey, boy! Come here now—!]
Her voice thundered, rivaling the explosive roar of Jeong Yeon-shin’s Hwan River technique.
Amid the already chaotic exodus of the crowd, her deafening shout shook the canyon once more, sending vibrations through the very air.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s head snapped up. The black-cloaked girl smirked mischievously, having shouted with deliberate audacity.
“You must know your place! Are you not now the one who defeated Namgung So-ga-ju? Look at those Namgung bastards over there! Their blackened eyes look ready to cut you down at any moment!”
“You could’ve just brought him over without drawing so much attention...,” So-ha muttered, shaking his head.
“Ah....”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips parted slightly as he stood in the distance.
While the Sword Corps played out their theatrical antics, the boy finally snapped back to reality.
And he was startled. The Sword Corps were legendary, their names reaching unparalleled heights even within the Divine Sword Division.
‘That person....’
He had a hunch about the identity of the girl who had called out to him.
Ak Su-rim (岳收霖), the Divine Spear of Ip-hwang Fortress.
A legendary elder who had reversed the ravages of time through mastery of extraordinary martial arts.
This feat, known as Returning to Youth, was a rare attainment, requiring profound enlightenment, a miraculous opportunity, and mastery of unique divine techniques.
Ak Su-rim was one such individual, as renowned as the commander of the Divine Sword Division.
For her to personally call upon Jeong Yeon-shin meant he had earned the minimum recognition required to stand among such figures.
Yet, the boy felt no particular elation.
‘How bothersome.’
The thought crossed his mind unbidden. He wished to immerse himself in the enlightenment Namgung Se-jin’s final moments had granted him.
How should one live as a martial artist? Even if he prioritized survival, was it truly enough to walk the martial path for that alone?
He was, after all, the final opponent of the Azure Qilin.
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his back on the experts of the Sword Corps.
“Next....”
He spoke slowly, deliberately.
“Next. Step forward.”
He addressed the Namgung Clan, whose formation emanated a storm of killing intent from both mid-tier and peak-level experts alike.
They stared at him as though ready to kill him on the spot, their collective energy converging like a massive specter of malice.
Jeong Yeon-shin remained unfazed. He had already seen through Namgung Mi’s scheming attempts at surrender.
Relying on the disparity in ranks to preserve life and honor? He had no intention of indulging such strategies. That plan had died with her.
The boy stood tall, resolute in his place.
The death of Namgung Se-jin had forged his resolve. The latent energy lingering in the corpse had yet to dissipate, and Jeong Yeon-shin refused to show disgrace in its presence.
“Is it spirit or recklessness...,” Ak Su-rim murmured as if in disbelief.
“Very well! I gladly accept the challenge of this exceptional junior!”
A booming voice rang out as a middle-aged man in blue martial robes leaped forward.
Boom!
As the sands beneath his feet shifted slightly and the oppressive qi pricked his skin, Jeong Yeon-shin squinted slightly. The man standing before him was a sight to behold—a master radiating an intense presence that was almost overwhelming.
The opponent wasn’t just any swordsman.
‘The leader of the Changgun Sword Celestial Division of the Namgung Clan.’
A man with eyes as sharp as blades, exuding a chilling killing intent that was undeniable. Even at this moment, the rippling waves of qi emanating from his body were nothing short of monstrous, making it hard for Jeong Yeon-shin to stand unfazed.
‘Didn’t the Lord of Ipwang say he defeated their vice-leader?’
It was said that the vice-leader of this group had been one of the Namgung Clan's top swordsmen, a figure to be reckoned with. And yet, the Lord of Ipwang had slain him in a single stroke. That event had etched itself into the annals of martial history as a testament to supreme martial prowess.
Perhaps it was the weight of that history or the cascading losses that had driven the leader of the Changgun Sword Celestial Division into this maddened frenzy. The man’s qi sharpened with every passing moment, coalescing into a nearly tangible blade poised to strike.
Yet, Jeong Yeon-shin stood firm, his resolve unwavering.
‘I just need to land the Hwangang.’
He thought of the ultimate strike of his Shihwa Muguk Su, the one Namgung Sejin himself had named. It was a technique whose power had already been proven. All he had to do was find the opening to deliver it.
But before the next move could be made, a voice rang out, calm yet unyielding.
“Stop right there.”
The voice was clear as a bell, cutting through the tension in the air like a blade through water.
The reaction from the leader of the Changgun Sword Celestial Division was instantaneous. His eyes widened in recognition, and his voice broke into a shocked exclamation.
“...The Commander of the Divine Sword Division!”
Jeong Yeon-shin froze momentarily, caught off guard by the sheer gravity of the name that had been uttered. Slowly, he turned his head, sensing a presence so immense it sent chills coursing down his spine.
Behind him stood a man whose aura was unlike any other.
A towering figure with an aura that seemed to encompass everything around him, the Divine Sword Commander exuded an effortless dominance. His violet scholar’s robes fluttered lightly, and his refined appearance could have been mistaken for that of a literary figure. Yet, the qi rolling off him made it abundantly clear—this man was no ordinary scholar.
Without missing a beat, the Divine Sword Commander addressed the leader of the Changgun Sword Celestial Division.
“Sword Celestial Leader. That’s enough.”
The leader stiffened, a scowl forming on his face. “Enough? How dare you...!”
“You’re the shameless one,” the Commander interrupted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Picking on a mere boy—what does that say about your honor?”
The words, delivered so casually, struck harder than any blade.
Step by step, the Divine Sword Commander advanced, each movement exuding an untouchable grace. Despite the fiery gazes from the Namgung Clan members, no one dared to obstruct him.
Even the Namgung Clan Head, standing in the distance with an unreadable expression, merely watched in silence. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, as though deliberating whether to act.
The Commander finally stopped in front of Jeong Yeon-shin, his gaze steady and penetrating.
“You’re the one they call Seomye, yes?”
Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight nod and clasped his hands in greeting. “I greet the Commander.”
The man’s lips curled into a faint smile. “For a moment, I thought you were blind. The way you fought so deeply immersed in your own world, as though nothing around you mattered. Quite the rare sight.”
“...I apologize if I was disrespectful,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied evenly.
The Commander waved a hand dismissively. “Not at all. In fact, it’s fascinating. Yet I must ask—how about you step back for now? You’ve already fought two life-and-death duels, and your opponent is far beyond your current level. No one would question your withdrawal.”
Jeong Yeon-shin opened his mouth to reply, but the Commander cut him off, his tone light yet firm.
“Of course, I see that you’re determined. So let me offer you something in return. I’ll pass down one of my techniques to you, and I’ll help you forge connections in the martial world. Surely, you can’t refuse such a proposal?”
Jeong Yeon-shin hesitated. The weight of the offer was not lost on him; the Divine Sword Commander’s teachings and connections were worth more than gold. But stepping back here—where Namgung Se-jin’s body still lay—felt like a betrayal.
The Commander’s smile softened. “You’ve done more than enough to preserve your honor. Perhaps it’s time you consider the greater picture.”
The words struck a chord, but Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t respond.
“Good,” the Commander said with a knowing smile, taking Jeong Yeon-shin’s silence as agreement. He placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder, gently guiding him to step aside.
In that moment, the overwhelming aura of the Changgun Sword Celestial Leader dissipated as though swept away by a tide.
“From this moment forward,” the Commander declared, his voice calm yet commanding, “all duels between Namgung and Ipwang will involve me directly.”
“That’s absurd!” a Namgung elder protested from the sidelines.
The Commander tilted his head slightly, his tone almost playful. “Wasn’t it your suggestion to begin with? Starting with the youngest? Or do you now want to see our elders take the stage?”
Before anyone could respond, another figure moved with startling speed. The Divine Spear, Ak Su-rim, appeared next to Namgung Hwa-shin, her spear a blur as it struck the young man’s nape.
Thunk!
The sound echoed as Hwa-shin crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The Commander chuckled softly. “Well done. Let’s wrap this up quickly. Seomye still has much to learn.”
None of the Divine Sword Division members seemed surprised by the sudden turn of events. It was as though this unorthodox conduct was second nature to them.
The Commander turned back toward the Namgung Clan’s gathering. “It seems Namgung Hwa-shin is unfit for combat. I suppose we’ll consider this your loss.”
And with a faint smile, he added, “Next time, I’ll be your opponent.”