“......”

For a moment, the entire snowy field froze.

Even the breaths of the Divine Sword Corps masters, and the trembling snow that softly quivered in response to the Divine Sword Inheritance. Even the falling snowflakes that had been pouring like rain the instant Eo Ung-gong's Ultimate Martial Way activated... had begun to cease.

That’s the kind of person Mun Gok was.

A suffocating sense of pressure was always present around him. He looked like a scholar from the capital, his hair neatly arranged and covering one eye. He even wore a thin scholar’s robe, as if spring had already come.

“It’s been a long time.”

Mun Gok held Yangcheon Lord in one hand and gave Jeong Yeon-shin a gentle smile. The overwhelming waves of inner force clung to his body like a tsunami.

The deep navy-blue defensive energy barrier of the greatest external force master of the era amplified the sheer size of his already massive fist. It was an utterly unreal sight. That was why he could grab one of the Three High Protectors of the Imperial Court with a single hand.

“...Tch.”

Yangcheon Lord turned his head slightly toward Mun Gok, the corner of his mouth twitching up faintly.

“...So I’ve ended up in the grasp of the most monstrous bastard in the entire Demon Realm.”

The heat radiating from Mun Gok’s forged Celestial Light Armor, “Yeonmyeol (Eradication),” was still horrifying. So much so that Yangcheon Lord’s whole body began emitting wisps of white smoke, rising like mist.

Sssshh—

His body-protecting inner force burned against itself.

A sound like dry reed leaves being scorched filled the air one after another, and within the rising smoke, Yangcheon Lord let out a lightly amused voice.

“Hey, Mun Gok.”

“Yangcheon Lord, it has truly been a long time. Have you been well?”

“I can’t move like this... Can’t you hold me differently?”

“Regrettably, no.”

“I meant, hold me tighter. When I return home, I should boil up some tonic and drink it. Compared to the monster you used to be, there’s not even the faintest strength left in your grip.”

“...?”

“Oh, how nice. Yes, this is more like you.”

Yangcheon Lord furrowed his brow ever so slightly, as if soaking in hot bathwater. As he spoke, a taut, rope-like sound of tension came from Mun Gok’s grip.

The corners of Mun Gok’s mouth rose faintly.

“...I had a feeling from far away, but has the Ming Imperial Court really fallen so low?”

“Even so, that doesn’t mean I cease being of the Zhu lineage. Let’s get to business quickly.”

“You should be grateful that I didn’t come alone.”

Then—

A thunderclap cracked above the crowd’s heads.

Rumble!

It was clearly the aftermath of Thunder Power. In that instant, Wi Jiguk, Cheon So-so, and Wu Geuk Lord Geum Cheong-won, who had been standing around Jeong Yeon-shin, reacted.

“Lord Jeong, that’s the one we fought in the Black Blade warzone. The Northern King of that Thunder-Electric Qi Technique...”

“Great King Vajra.”

“We nearly killed each other.”

Three Commanders.

Each one let their energy surge downward, preparing to counter any potential ambush.

Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.

“At this point, your internal injuries are far more serious than mine. Do not draw your weapons.”

At the same time, he slowly raised the Divine Sword.

Srak.

He affixed it to his waist. The symbol of the Divine Sword Corps Commander slipped softly into the violet waistband with black trim.

A long-standing goal achieved.

Now, he was the unequivocal Divine Sword of a nation. The history and symbolism imbued in that single blade had entered his hands, and the radiance nearby briefly blurred his vision.

—If someone like me eats the fruit of the World Tree, can I live?

—Its effects have been exaggerated somewhat, but yes. You’ll be able to achieve what you desire.

—Can I really obtain it?

—That depends on you.

An old conversation. For a moment, the faint breath of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress seemed to brush against his ear.

‘I wonder if he’s doing well.’

If they were to reunite now, as a Divine Sword Corps Commander who had achieved merit—what should he ask for?

It was different from that day when he only thought of the fruit. Jeong Yeon-shin had been unconsciously, endlessly contemplating it.

Meanwhile—

Ruuuumble—

The wall of light called “Celestial Heart Restriction Order,” which had rounded and closed in around the Divine Sword Corps base, now crushed even the tents and left faint burn marks on Mun Gok’s skin.

Added to the fact that the Third High Protector of the Imperial Court, Eo Ung-gong, had already activated his Ultimate Martial Way, and that Mun Gok now held Yangcheon Lord unharmed in his grasp—

“You’ve grasped the Divine Sword now, which means you’ve practically seized all of Ming’s power. Truly well done.”

“Come to think of it, I heard you requested a conference with our nation’s Divine Sword Corps Commander. Mun Gok, what exactly are you scheming?”

“It’s better that Yangcheon Lord does not know.”

A three-way deadlock.

On the verge of explosion. The Divine Sword Corps’ base was in grave danger. For days, the snowy field had been peaceful, but now, disasters followed one after another.

Wu Geuk Lord Geum Cheong-won now stood beside Divine Sword Corps Commander Jeong Yeon-shin. The man most skilled in defensive martial arts in all of Ipwang Fortress. He alternated his gaze between overhead and the cliff in front of them as he muttered.

“How chaotic. Each of the great warriors has their own agenda—truly a time of chaos.”

If Liu Yuan Star Lord Mun Gok and Great King Vajra began rampaging without distinguishing friend from foe, it would become a battlefield that would shake the heavens and the earth.

That was why the black-clad warriors, forming a circle as if guarding Jeong Yeon-shin, were either drawing their weapons or urging Jin Myeong-jo to draw the Demon Sword.

“...It’s not time yet.”

“If the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Unit says so, then it must be. Surely, a friend who has overcome the limits of bloodline isn’t delaying this out of weakness.”

“The limits of bloodline...?”

Before the question from the Blood King Clan’s Jeok Iseo could even fully form—

Boom—

The wall of light trembled and began to shatter like a lie.

Another thunderclap boomed high above.

Rumble!

It was because Great King Vajra had unleashed Thunder Power against Eo Ung-gong, who had previously cast down a technique composed of pure light energy.

[The little warrior's anguish is deep. He could have dodged it.]

A noble woman’s voice.

Whether Great King Vajra had launched a full-power surprise attack from the start, or Eo Ung-gong had deliberately released Ultimate Martial Way—it was impossible to say.

“Don’t hate Eo Ung-gong.”

Before anyone noticed, Joo Gwang-shin, the Drunken Beggar King, appeared behind Ma Yeon-jeok and spoke as he lay on the snowy ground.

“The name of the technique is Radiant Spear. It’s originally in the form of a giant spear—once the final stage is triggered, a deadly attack is inevitable. He just dragged it out a while because he didn’t want to feel shame.”

But for Mun Gok, it seemed meaningless. He simply shrugged his massive shoulders at those standing before him and asked—

“Shall we consider the conversation ready to begin?”

Step.

Jeong Yeon-shin took a step forward.

A faded purple robe. The hilt of the Divine Sword, now a dull gray, worn down by countless years.

He stood alone.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Having weathered the Black Blade war, both of his sacred weapons had grown even older. He was their sole master.

Ma Yeon-jeok and Yong Hui-myeong no longer stood beside him. They stood slightly behind him now, quietly positioned as part of the snowy backdrop.

And so it would remain.

‘Their internal and external injuries are no small matter. And the Sect has been left unattended for too long.’

Now, Jeong Yeon-shin had to walk forward alone. That was the nature of a Divine Sword Corps Commander.

Mun Gok looked down at him slightly and smiled.

“Perfection.”

“...?”

“Now that you’ve gathered everything, I’m curious. What kind of answer will you find?”

“Did you come as Black Blade’s representative?”

“I represent the Demon Realm.”

Mun Gok spoke of the affairs of an entire nation with astonishing calm. For a moment, the trials he had endured in the Demon Realm flashed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind.

‘A monster.’

At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin glanced briefly at Yangcheon Lord, who was silently held by Mun Gok. At some point, an old fishing rod had been casually slung across his shoulder, and he was gazing at Jeong Yeon-shin with a complicated look in his eyes.

—This is merely a gesture of respect for your efforts and achievements. Please understand that we are in a difficult position to build ties with the Northern Empire.

Yangcheon Lord’s low transmission pierced Jeong Yeon-shin’s ear. Like a mantra, it accelerated rapidly and conveyed his intent in the blink of an eye.

In contrast, Jeong Yeon-shin asked aloud,

“What do you mean by that?”

—I mean that one day, I might appear before you like an assassin. Not just me, but also Eo-ung, Gyocheon, even the Three Grand Marshals and some major sects. Keep in mind that the Ming Empire has become a stagnant well.

“......”

—The clans who, due to the World Tree, have had the history of defeat engraved into their upper dantian. That’s why most of the warriors of the Zhu clan are ghosts bound by the word ‘Ming.’ Only the late emperor transcended it all—he was the only true emperor. Back when he was alive, every martial artist of the Ming clan had to prepare for the Gate and train their martial arts... but you, too, must admit the era has changed.

“What do you mean by a history of defeat?”

—So I apologize in advance. It would be better for both of us if we didn’t meet again. Just accept the congratulations today. Truly, thank you. You’ve worked very hard.

Body Protection Secret Art: Formless Dragon Form.

Hwaak!

In an instant, Yangcheon Lord shot up, slipping from Mun Gok’s grasp. Incredibly, it was as if the friction from his body-protecting energy had vanished. Jeong Yeon-shin immediately recognized this as an extreme mastery of the highest flame level, honed over a long time.

Carrying only a fishing rod, Yangcheon [N O V E L I G H T] Lord swam through the sky like a dragon.

Jeong Yeon-shin quietly watched the sight, then flicked his hand once.

Boom!

In the blink of an eye, Yangcheon Lord, who had risen even to the clouds, accelerated again with a radial shockwave bursting out. Jeong Yeon-shin had struck a Void Palm right under Yangcheon Lord’s feet.

“......!”

The faint surprise reached even below. At that moment, Mun Gok’s amused voice followed.

“You’ve made two things clear with a single move: First, the Northern Empire has no reason to be hostile toward Ming just yet. Second, in the current world order, it’s not the Ming Imperial Family but the Divine Sword Corps that holds the blade’s hilt... well done.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, with no particular thoughts, replied honestly.

“I simply added some force so that a decent man wouldn’t get caught by your rough hand.”

“A good decision. Facing the Ming Empire that wields stature and ritual like an axe, you managed to secure both justification and gain with just one Void Palm. If you keep a clever strategist by your side, you’ll enjoy much more freedom from this alone.”

A deeply meaningful statement.

So much so that the Blood King, Lord of the Imperial Red Pavilion, who had been carefully watching Jeong Yeon-shin, the Seven Sabers, Jin Myeong-jo, and Jeok Iseo, widened his eyes.

‘Strategist...?’ 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly ran his hand over the hilt of the Divine Sword. It was to grow familiar with its feel.

“Just get to the point.”

“I’ve come to ask you to visit the Dark Territory, despite the long journey. Right now, before returning to the Central Plains, I would like you to come with me.”

Mun Gok extended his hand like a refined scholar toward the cliff below. A posture as if introducing something. At the tip of his large fingers spread a dark, distant metropolis.

The capital of the Dark Territory, inevitably far from the encampment.

The very place the Divine Sword Corps once made their battlefield.

“It’s a little different from that day.”

Mun Gok added with a small smile.

“Elite martial forces personally trained by Lord Namje of Geomun are stationed in the city. Thirty thousand in total.”

“You want me to go with you there? Are you looking to die?”

Suddenly, hair black as ebony brushed lightly against Jeong Yeon-shin’s cheek. It came with an unbelievably fragrant scent of flesh. Just before the Seven Sabers struck at Mun Gok, Jeong Yeon-shin grabbed her shoulder. The hem of the stolen black long robe wrinkled lightly, and the faint martial energy that was about to burst from the Seven Sabers' whole body subsided at once.

Sarak.

In that way, he returned the Seven Sabers to her original position. Jeong Yeon-shin’s whisper touched her earlobe as she turned smoothly.

“He’s not your opponent. Are you crazy?”

“Mhm.”

Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head silently to face forward again and asked Mun Gok,

“Only thirty thousand?”

Mun Gok’s smile deepened to an eerie degree.

“There’s also the relic of Green Sovereign North Province, waiting for a new master. A manuscript that should return to the Tyrant Hero who won the Life-and-Death Battle.”

“Cut the crap.”

Behind Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder, Ma Yeon-jeok spoke sharply, his hands clasped behind his back as if everything was now entrusted to his grandson.

“More importantly, there are North Kings who must resolve their own affairs. It’s quite a long journey to the Dark Territory, but won’t you visit—out of respect for those you fought? Especially if you care for the people of the Central Plains.”

The Central Plains.

A vast land where sects constantly rise and fall, where the imperial family, the Thirteen Heavens, old sects, and the Eight Families all bring about a law of power by strength.

No one could know what state it was in now.

The North Kings of the Dark Territory stood in contrast to the heads of those great sects. Each unpredictable in nature and martial style.

Perhaps Jeong Yeon-shin truly would have to become the “Northern Emperor”—to unite all the North Kings.

Suddenly, Jeong Yeon-shin recalled words he had once said to Shin-ui.

—The world.

Mun Gok spoke.

“Aesingarakra Heukhwan is keeping the Lightning Thunder Sword. Fortunately, she hasn’t broken it. She said she wanted to speak with you.”

“By force?”

“That remains to be seen. Will you not at least accompany me to the Dark Territory? The journey won’t be boring.”

Jeong Yeon-shin fell silent for a moment, then slowly began to walk.

“Lead the way.”

He said.

At the same time, the Divine Sword Corps followed behind.

***

The journey from the snowy cliff to the Dark Territory was quite long. Inevitably, all sorts of exotic sights unfolded.

The inn “Saha” in the Dark Territory, reeking of metal and blood; the towers of corpses that pierced the sky here and there; starving peasants digging up shriveled seeds from the ground only to get into petty fights over them; demonic race martial artists sitting nearby, cheering loudly, only to quickly bow when they saw Jeong Yeon-shin...

“How do they know my face?”

“Wind Dispersing Aura. Like the Heavenly Forged Armor, even fugitives from the South can learn it.”

They passed countless scenes like that.

And before long, they had arrived at the Dark Palace.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced around at the peerless masters surrounding him.

The old palace grounds, now completely in ruins, had long since been filled with a terrifying pressure.

Each person stood in a unique posture around Jeong Yeon-shin. The only vaguely familiar face was a one-armed monk from the Western Regions.

‘Mun Gok, Heavenly Patriarch Noban, Silent Sword Lord, Vajra, Four Kings of Dragon Sound Temple, Aesingarakra Heukhwan, Dharma King... is that Sunjeong...?’

One of them he decided to ignore.

Still, strangely, he didn’t feel any sense of danger.

With this much power gathered, they could kill anyone in the world.

“If you want revenge, I’ll accept it.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke in a low voice, resting his arm atop the hilt of the Divine Sword.

There was no need to even draw the blade.