After Jeong Yeon-shin returned to the tent—

The gaps between the sparse sleet began to close on their own. Fragments of cold air, like feathers, filled the sky and fell.

As if frost had formed in the dragon’s heart, where even a small whim could change the weather.

Hoo!

A landscape of pure white.

Amid the snowfall pouring down like white rain, Yong Hui-myeong cast a deliberately serious glance toward Jin Myeong-jo.

“Are you sane?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m afraid you might strike.”

His voice was cold, like something frozen.

“Afraid?”

Yong Hui-myeong’s head tilted grotesquely slow at that moment. For a brief instant, he no longer resembled a person, but something inanimate—a rock, a scale, or a cloud.

“You don’t seem scared of anything.”

“......”

“You remind me of the emperor of the fallen Yi clan. A monster forged from a sense of justice known only to himself.”

“What I said wasn’t wrong.”

“But it was inappropriate. For the Divine Sword Corps to harvest the Heavenly Tree’s fruit without the imperial court’s approval? That’s treason.”

“The Ming court won’t collapse just because the fruit of the Heavenly Tree goes to Lord Jeong. It would take a natural disaster hitting the Forbidden City to cause that. But if Lord Jeong dies, this land loses its national sword. And more than anything...”

Jin Myeong-jo asked quietly.

“Were you ever the sword of the imperial court, Master Yong?”

A wry smile tugged at Yong Hui-myeong’s lips.

“I’m the Ming’s divine sword, sure—but I’ve also been a toy blade that even peasant children could swing around. I doubt the old heads of the imperial court will approve of the Divine Sword being passed to Seomye.”

“That will happen not because of the Ming leadership, but when the members of Ipwang Fortress are of one mind. Isn’t that the only right granted to those who lay down their lives on the front lines? The right to bolster the Master’s authority.”

“When did you become so eloquent?”

“Mixed blood adapts well to survive.”

The martial elites of the Divine Sword Corps—

All of them were people who had mastered survival.

It was a kind of adaptability that could just as easily be directed ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) not at himself, but at Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Please cooperate.”

Jin Myeong-jo spoke quietly. Yong Hui-myeong’s bitter smile deepened.

“Hand over the Divine Sword already? Is that how you speak to a superior?”

Pushing himself straight to the edge of the cliff—Yong Hui-myeong muttered.

***

Atop a sheer cliff.

This was where the temporary base of the Divine Sword Corps had been established.

The ridge was wide. Naturally, it was easy to defend against rapid light-footed assaults.

To the east, one could look down on the ruined Black Path. To the west, even the gorge that led toward Russia could be seen.

The snow-covered peaks made everything in sight blinding white. The dozen or so tents scattered about and the occasional rising wisps of smoke were the same.

The far edge of the north was white.

Jeong Yeon-shin carved deep footprints into its center.

Crunch.

Halfway down the cliff, a sea of faint clouds stretched out. Beyond the cloud sea, a faint source of sunlight flickered on the horizon.

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the scenery, and for a brief moment, felt as if he were standing at the highest point in the world.

‘That, too, is true.’

Now, across the entire north-south border of the Great Wall, no martial faction was stronger than the Divine Sword Corps.

Excluding large-scale military forces organized at a national level, the chivalrous warriors of Ipwang Fortress were indisputably the peak of the martial world.

Whether the southern martial world acknowledged it or not—it was fact.

With that power came equally heavy responsibility. His feelings for the main fortress had to take priority over any personal resentment.

That was why Jeong Yeon-shin first stepped into the tent of Suncheon Lords.

Just then, the eyes of the white-clad martial artist standing guard at the entrance widened. Already, she had reflexively brought her hands together before him. Her gaze, reminiscent of a startled cat, stood out.

Only after offering her salute did a questioning voice follow.

“Acting Master?”

It was Shin Bin-bin, the Guardian Sword Courier of Suncheon Lords.

A warrior who had once accompanied Jeong Yeon-shin during the Sichuan mission under Hwanik Unit, and also the older sister of Shin So-bin. She had long admired Baek Girin Namgung Hwa-shin, which had caused minor frictions with Jeong Yeon-shin in the past.

Her gaze resembled Shin So-bin’s, but her limbs were shorter than her sister’s, who had trained in the Jeong Family’s Internal Arts.

Still, in this moment, her breath poured out thickly like white fire, then scattered—a reflection of the intensity of the battle just past.

‘They’re all probably like this.’

Whatever their pasts, they were now undeniably warriors of Ipwang Fortress.

“...?”

As Jeong Yeon-shin passed her with only a glance, he stopped. For an instant, her hand had almost grasped his violet sleeve before pulling back.

She had something urgent to say, but clearly could not bring herself to touch the violet robe.

At the same time, Shin Bin-bin’s voice transmission wove forth in a tangled thread of unease.

—The Lord of Suncheon is in critical condition. He was struck directly by the sword energy of the Northern King, a supreme master... We tried everything from the main fortress's greatest arts to wake him, but he hasn’t regained consciousness. The Acting Master’s words are desperately needed. Please... speak kindly to him....

Jeong Yeon-shin faintly furrowed his brow. He held down the unease rising in his heart.

“Don’t undermine your direct superior’s dignity.”

—That’s not what I meant...!

As he walked toward the entrance, Jeong Yeon-shin glanced sideways at her profile. Hardened like a worn-out blade over the years. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You returned well. Black Path must’ve been rough.”

Rustle.

A pale law force brushed against Shin Bin-bin’s qi field and dispersed. Her unstable inner breath calmed slightly at the same time. That was because the Jeong Family’s Heavenly Scripture was orthodox martial arts.

Namgung Hwa-shin wasn’t the only one who deserved commendation from the Master of the Divine Sword Corps. Everyone from the main fortress was in the same position.

“......!”

Shin Bin-bin’s round eyes grew even wider.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin silently pushed open the flap of the tent and stepped inside. Separate from the faintly trembling presence behind him, a thick medicinal scent brushed against the tip of his nose. Just how much Gold Evergreen Ointment had been applied?

What lay before him was a sickbed.

Namgung Hwa-shin lay asleep atop a heap of bloodstained blankets. His entire body was wrapped in bandages. Those surrounding him had already risen and were bowing to Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Lord Jeong.”

“Acting Master.”

Five familiar senior warriors of Suncheon Lords, along with Hyeon Won-chang and Shin So-bin, were present.

For a moment, Jeong Yeon-shin reflexively avoided meeting Shin So-bin’s eyes. The moment he stepped inside, she had started watching him quietly. She was no different from the other black robes.

It was all because of what the Little Heavenly Invincible had done at Yeoklu Fortress.

‘That damned bastard.’

Her face flickered across his mind—only briefly.

The next moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was standing naturally at Namgung Hwa-shin’s bedside. At the same time, a gust of sonic wind swept outward like a hook, raking across the surroundings.

Recently, the boundary between ordinary walking and formal step techniques had greatly eroded. The warriors of Suncheon Lords were visibly startled, stepping back half a pace.

At the same time, Namgung Hwa-shin’s eyelids lifted like a dream. An uncanny movement. Like a drawn sword pulled reflexively by a swordsman who had honed his senses to the extreme.

“......!”

The expressions of the Suncheon warriors, who had shown only surprise, now turned to shock, and Namgung Hwa-shin tilted his head slightly, locking eyes with Jeong Yeon-shin.

“...I knew you would be unharmed.”

“Your efforts were great, Master Namgung.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly, recalling the time of Namgung Hwa-shin’s admission test to Ipwang Fortress. Even after defeating Jeong Yeon-shin in a duel, he had admitted his own defeat—a display of heroic spirit.

Even before entering Ipwang Fortress, the young man had made a name for himself throughout the orthodox factions as a prodigy.

Like Jeong Yeon-shin, he had endured much.

His mother and lover were killed. He had never managed to settle the bitter entanglement with his sister, a murderer. While unconscious, his older brother Cheong Girin had died, and then the previous Lord of Suncheon, Ha Do-un, was suddenly slain.

Even though he had studied under Master Girin himself, he hadn’t been able to compete in the Huashan Internal Duel.

When the great war of Ipwang erupted and Mong In-wol attacked the Suncheon Pavilion, he had been on the verge of death.

They said he had succumbed to madness.

So much so that even other Masters avoided him. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

His misfortunes ran deep. Perhaps Namgung Hwa-shin was the very embodiment of troubled times. Jeong Yeon-shin, who had also experienced deviation into madness, was no different.

But as the Master of the Divine Sword Corps, there was nothing else to say.

“It's fortunate you survived. Thanks to you, I was able to reach the Black Path Palace quickly.”

That was the end of it. They said the qilin (kirin) was a mythical beast that shone brightly inside and out.

Namgung Hwa-shin, who had once been the martial world’s qilin years ago, was not inferior to Jeong Yeon-shin as a man. He would surely emerge from his inner madness on his own.

‘Yes, no matter how long it takes...’

Jeong Yeon-shin hoped that the current Lord of Suncheon would regain his life—before his own came to an end.

Suddenly, Namgung Hwa-shin spoke solemnly.

“Lord Jeong.”

“Speak.”

“I cut Ultimate Martial Way.”

“Pardon?”

“Truly.”

No further words followed. He had already closed his eyes again. Leaving behind only what had to be said. Jeong Yeon-shin decided to restore Namgung Hwa-shin’s life swiftly.

‘The Heavenly Demon Tomb.’

They said all things demonic slept within the legacy of the Heavenly Demon.

Once, people had only referred to it as an unnamed tomb of the Heavenly Demon. But Jeong Yeon-shin had recently heard from the Little Heavenly Invincible that the First Heavenly Demon’s legacy lay within Central Lands.

Hyeon Won-chang let out an awkward laugh.

“Well, in any case... since he’s spoken, that means his internal breath is circulating again. I stayed by his side just in case we needed to mobilize for close combat—this is truly fortunate.”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s reply came through voice transmission.

—Seven-Circuit Golden Blood Technique.

Now it was Hyeon Won-chang’s eyes that widened. Naturally, Jeong Yeon-shin also spoke of what had happened at the Ming Cult and the lifting of the Restriction Seal. Calmly, but in a tone that seemed to reproach himself.

Hyeon Won-chang stared at him silently, then eventually gave a faint smile.

—I’m fine for now. This is the unmatched Ghost Breathing Technique, after all. Especially for those trained in assassination arts. To keep up with Lord Jeong’s battles, I need this restriction. That monster who smiled like he was playing a game of Go while turning the ground into a board... I was only able to fool that Liu clan general’s energy sense thanks to this Seven-Circuit Golden Blood Technique.

—Hyeon-won hyung.

—Of course, I can’t keep up with the fights you're facing now. The senior black robes, the opium peddlers, and So-bin, who’s already uncovered the secret... These things can’t be handled with words or illusions alone.

That was the end of it.

Jeong Yeon-shin once again stepped out of the tent and headed straight toward the source of the eerie Blood Qi.

He had only meant to organize post-battle affairs, but his mind had grown even more tangled. Perhaps if he saw a woman more complicated than these matters, his spirit would clear.

‘Use poison to fight poison...’

Meanwhile, a dark shadow overlapped with his silhouette.

It was none other than Shin So-bin’s crown—she had been trailing in his shadow ever since he stepped out of the tent.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Come later. I’ll call you.”

“In the gorge over there, the Dark Sword... I mean, Master Ma is dueling the World’s Swiftest Sword and the Reinforcement School’s leader. I’d like to show Lord Jeong the completion of my Ten-Mile Light Leap.”

“Later’s fine too. When should I see you next?”

“Any time.”

It felt like there was nowhere left to place his foot.

Had the Deputy of the Divine Sword Corps ever trailed the Master like this before? Jeong Yeon-shin moved forward with retreating footwork, arriving at the tents of the Seven Killers and the Crimson Blood Royal House.

It was a place filled with a noble scent, like a field of flowers.

Jeong Yeon-shin had a sudden instinct—that this fleeting peace might be the last taste of honey before plunging back into chaos.

Even so, he had to step forward.

With the great war of the Black Path, the Divine Sword Corps was now even more understaffed. They had proven themselves the strongest in the world, but at a great cost in lives.

Now that the north and south of the Great Wall were one united world, the establishment of factions like the “Ipwang Crimson House” was urgently needed.

Nothing must be left unused for the greater cause.

That was what the Master of the Divine Sword Corps had learned from the Sword Saint and the Southern Emperor.

‘They call themselves the Northern Royal Clan. They won’t actually join the main fortress just because I ask...’

Rustle.

The moment he pushed open the tent’s entrance—it was yet another battlefield.