The hall was cleared in an instant.

The Demonic Cult Leader, So Cheonmujuk, withdrew the black flames as if it had all been a lie, and at that moment, the Blue Dragon Hall Lord of the Four Saints Martial Alliance—who had been about to draw his sword—froze in place the moment he caught Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze.

‘He wouldn’t have stood a chance. Have madmen increased in number?’

Jeong Yeon-shin thought.

Back at the gate of Mount Undae, when he had embedded the Stepping Moon Blade, he’d been so ashamed of his vain strike that he pierced straight through the floor and descended below.

He had briefly considered whether Wei Ji Myo-hwa and the Post-Heaven Radiant Star had recognized his face. But of course, there was no way to know for sure.

So, in the middle of that endless fall, he had slipped out midway down Mount Undae, felt the aura of this gathering, and come walking toward it.

‘...Did they see me?’

Jeong Yeon-shin, using the graceful Returning Phantom of Rebuttal Step, naturally gauged the two people’s reactions. Wei Ji Myo-hwa and the Post-Heaven Radiant Star. It had been a long time since he’d seen them.

Wei Ji Myo-hwa, the Sword Dragon, was the same as ever. Flawlessly beautiful, with a dignified presence like a divine sword—seeming like someone who would never change. She had a feather ornament fixed atop her hair, which was tied in a single line. Except for the sky-faded hue of the feather, her temperament remained as it was the day they first met.

‘But her inner force is different now.’

He could feel it—the density of her energy rippling with terrifying depth. That unique quality of Three Harmonies Gathering Essence: in other words, she had become a master who had unified essence, energy, and spirit.

When she and Jeong Yeon-shin first met, he had still been wearing white robes. But now, he was Sword Heaven and Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. Regardless of how fast Jeong Yeon-shin had lived, it was only natural that others' lives had changed, too.

Some might have gone into seclusion for extraordinary cultivation. Others, like Jeong Yeon-shin or Wei Ji Myo-hwa, had grown through ferocious real combat.

They say a supreme master is one who never stops ascending in strength. Like the Post-Heaven Radiant Star, now sitting across the wide round table without a single sign of presence—as someone who never stopped pushing the limits of achievement, they remained forever mad and forever strong.

Wei Ji Myo-hwa, soon to mature as Sect Leader of the Old School, was the same. It meant they shared the same kind of blood.

“......”

When her gaze met Jeong Yeon-shin’s, her eyes curled faintly in a soft smile. Even in such a setting, her composure ran deep—regardless of his Stepping Moon Blade, she acted fully in accordance with someone who led a sect.

In contrast, the Post-Heaven Radiant Star looked at Jeong Yeon-shin differently. There was a mix of surprise and strange curiosity in his gaze, made more distinct by his broad facial lines.

“...Now that you represent Ipwang Fortress as Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, I suppose I should offer formal greeting.”

Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.

“If you treat me that way all the time, it would only burden your junior. It’s enough to speak formally only in official settings.”

The Post-Heaven Radiant Star’s gaze turned strange.

“You carry yourself like someone used to representing a whole sect. You’re not the same man I saw last.”

Jeong Yeon-shin recalled his embarrassing sword strike at Mount Undae again, but turned away, figuring that his elder simply felt the staggering difference in their growth. After all, the core of Returning Phantom of Rebuttal Step was to deceive even oneself with conviction.

“Very well... as you, Commander Jeong, have said, I will speak formally only here.”

At the Post-Heaven Radiant Star’s words, Jeong Yeon-shin felt relief. Indeed, the failed sword had been erased from memory, and only then did he begin to notice his surroundings.

“...So that’s the Sword of Transcendence.”

It was the muttering of a middle-aged swordsman.

His gaze had been fixed on the sword at Jeong Yeon-shin’s waist. Ever since the days it was held by the first Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, it had been a symbol of martial dominance across the land.

‘The Grand Pure Justice Alliance and the Four Saints Martial Alliance.’

Jeong Yeon-shin already knew this man’s identity from having heard most of the earlier conversation outside. He was the Blue Dragon Hall Lord from the Four Saints Martial Alliance. And right now, the man’s thick skin was stripped away by sheer shock.

“Seomye is the Divine Sword Commander? Then is he truly... in Zhongyuan?”

From that short burst of confusion, much could be inferred. The Four Saints Martial Alliance didn’t have someone like a Wind King from the Zhu royal line, and they hadn’t expected the Divine Sword Corps to reappear in Zhongyuan.

“The portrait of the Sword of Transcendence hangs even in our sect. So, Commander Jeong is no longer acting as proxy.”

Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s clear voice carried a touch of light-hearted laughter. Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight nod and replied.

“I heard a rumor that the Sect Leader of Zhongnan holds a presence equal to that of the Leader of Mount Cheongseong. Seeing you now, it seems that may be true.”

The corners of Wei Ji Myo-hwa’s lips lifted like the tip of a feather.

“When a sect leader changes in an old school, it’s natural for the world’s expectations to follow. But I could hardly compare myself to Cheongsu Zhenin, the Twin-Wall Sword Lord.”

Jeong Yeon-shin replied with a smile of his own, deferring the answer. A gentle breeze danced around the two’s robes, and soon, he spoke of the main topic.

“There’s something you must know before you hear what they have to say. I came here leaving comrades on Mount Zhongnan. Some martial artists tried to break through Senior Jung-san and Hye-a to climb up.”

“Comrades...?”

“They’re the ones who always create one-on-one situations for the Divine Sword Commander.”

That was all he said. It was enough. Trust saturated every word.

Meanwhile—

From one side, the old man Lee Beom was staring quietly at Jeong Yeon-shin’s face, like a fortune teller in the market. When he heard that Jeong had brought an entire force, he smiled gently.

Then Lee Beom carefully asked:

“If it’s not disrespectful... may I ask which faction they belong to?”

“Divine Sword Unit.”

At that short answer, Wei Ji Myo-hwa parted her lips.

“Commander Jeong, that old man is the General Overseer of the Grand Pure Justice Alliance. His name is Lee Beom. He’s also known as the Invincible One. I doubt you’ve grasped the scale of the Alliance yet—if you reveal too much information carelessly, you might suffer for it.”

“That’s fine.”

“Pardon?”

“The world needs to know. There’s no more vacancy at Ipwang Fortress.”

“...Still the same. Both you and the Divine Sword Corps.”

“That’s what I thought when I saw you, Lady Wei.”

The Sect Leader of Zhongnan and the Divine Sword Commander shared an easy familiarity. Anyone in the political world of Shaanxi would consider it dangerous. Especially since, as was well known, she wasn’t the only Old Sect Leader to have ties with Jeong Yeon-shin.

“......”

As the Blue Dragon Hall Lord’s eyes narrowed—

“Oh ho, the Divine Sword Unit of the Divine Sword Corps...”

Lee Beom let out a leisurely sigh of admiration. The shock that had gripped him just moments ago had vanished like a lie.

Jeong Yeon-shin quietly asked:

“They call you the Invincible One?”

“The people of the land are far too generous with names. In truth, half of it is mockery, and the other half disdain.”

The old man laughed softly.

It must have been a title earned through dealing only with those of great stature—like the martial aristocrats of prestigious sects who rarely cross swords with the untrained.

Jeong Yeon-shin continued his questioning.

“Your purpose?”

“To increase the number of sects joining the Grand Pure Justice Alliance. But I never expected to meet the Divine Sword Commander of the world today.”

“You mean to pull the Old Sects into your private coalition?”

Lee Beom smiled gently.

“Mount Hua once joined the Hanzhong Martial Alliance. Why not the Grand Pure Justice Alliance?”

“How laughable.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“The Ming dynasty has fallen. Ipwang Fortress floats like a cloud. Since we’ve met like this, I intended to formally invite you to join our Alliance. I’ll make it clear—we are not just a private gathering.”

Jeong Yeon-shin had more to say, but chose to hold his tongue.

After all, there was someone far more suited for this kind of ideological clash.

“Speak to my strategist.”

"A strategist? The Divine Sword Corps has one of those now?"

"I brought one in recently."

"A strategist taken in haste during an age of chaos is usually just good at cheap tricks... I’ll see for myself whether he suits someone like Commander Jeong."

"Do as you like."

Jeong Yeon-shin had just finished explaining the situation at Mount Zhongnan to Wei Ji Myo-hwa. At this moment, things like the Grand Pure Justice Alliance or the Four Saints Martial Alliance—names he’d neither heard nor cared for—meant nothing to him.

He slowly brought his two hands together in front of him.

"This is Seomye of the Jeong Household, offering respects to the Joint Sect Leader."

“...Your body is like a sword."

The Post-Heaven Radiant Star murmured.

If someone had reached the realm of Heavenly Illumination through Emptiness, then they would each carry a powerful mental image within themselves. The Post-Heaven Radiant Star was reading the Silent Night Radiance Sword Sutra from Jeong Yeon-shin’s presence.

In contrast, Jeong Yeon-shin thought of the demonic martial artists—those from the Southern Emperor and the Blood King’s lineages. The martial path they pursued. That overwhelming freedom of the Northern wild wind. That is, the realm of unity with nature.

‘A natural body...?’

It was hard to gauge how complete his mastery was. The Returning Phantom of Rebuttal Step was constantly active in the Post-Heaven Radiant Star’s body.

Jeong Yeon-shin felt, truly, that time had passed even in Zhongyuan’s martial world. These were people who had always been far ahead of him—though they might have plateaued briefly, they never stopped progressing. Just like the Divine Sword Corps as a whole had grown stronger.

“Hm.”

After staring at Jeong Yeon-shin for a moment, the Post-Heaven Radiant Star gave a faint smile.

"Your world is greater than what a mere sect leader governs. You go ahead and handle your business first."

"I shall."

With that, Jeong Yeon-shin turned his gaze to the side. To the seat where So Cheonmujuk was seated.

She sat as if nothing around her mattered, silently lost in thought.

Even sitting at the same table, she exuded a detached presence. As if removed from the world.

It was fitting for the Demonic Cult Leader.

Jeong Yeon-shin faintly smiled.

"You seem tense."

"......."

"You can treat me as you used to. I’m your junior now, aren’t I?"

For a moment, So Cheonmujuk’s lips slowly parted.

"Not sure you'll still be smiling like this once the Heavenly Demon Tomb is opened. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said the entire Jinryeong Mountain Range is the grave of the First Heavenly Demon. There’s a reason I gathered all those lowly wanderers."

"I’ve already faced Senior Xin °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Cheon-hwa. Do you truly mean to resurrect the First Heavenly Demon? Just to pursue your own future?"

So Cheonmujuk’s lips curled upward.

"He’s coming soon. Stop me if you can."

Her voice was as dry as the cracked earth of a famine-stricken land.

***

The spring forest was dried out like the wings of a dead cicada, but the only places where the dew of dawn rolled were the underbrush and fallen leaves.

Rustle.

Sixteen men and women were shouldering a massive palanquin. A literal sixteen-person carriage. Four legs, four people per leg, each clad in fluttering blue silk robes that danced like grass blades in the wind.

They were clearly acting as attendants, yet not a single one of them seemed insignificant. Especially not after the earth-shattering battle they had just endured.

The Sixteen Trees of Martial Painting.

A formation that, when united, could slay even peerless masters.

They had just managed to shake off the pursuit of Mun Gok the Strategist of the Mu Ryong Association. It was thanks to the sword formation of the Natural Sword, a technique conceived before the era of the Original-Ming transition. And this had happened without the intervention of the Jade Veil Master himself.

Saaa—

The wind flowing from the hems of two among the sixteen swept away the dust. At the same time, crater-like pits in the earth became visible.

“The strength of the Mad Strategist Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol exceeded our assumptions. To think he escaped the One Origin Sword Formation.”

The voice came from within the palanquin. It was like a wind that had passed through the cracks of a withered tree.

Standing apart from the group, the old man not part of their party—Jade Veil Master of Wudang—stared silently down at the ground.

“Only a lunatic obsessed with martial arts could create the Ultimate Martial Way. All those who have refined their Hundred Convergences Acupoint to such an absolute degree must feel it. That the end of an era is approaching, and those who played the role of the strong only to stagnate will meet a miserable death.”

Inside the palanquin sat a woman whose body resembled a gnarled branch. It was the Grand Empress Dowager Wi Yeon, and she murmured briefly,

“Insight into the Upper Dantian.”

“That’s right.”

“To perceive an era, to interfere with the flow of the world—such is the peerless. Truly troublesome. Those who defy ordained fate.”

Her archaic tone carried no emotion. Wi Yeon slowly concluded her words.

“Thanks to the Sixteen Trees of Martial Painting, my qi-breathing was not disturbed. I can now use the Wind King’s technique. It’s about time I confirmed a few things.”

“What do you mean?”

“The variables of this era. The ones currently in the Central Plains will determine the fate of the world.”

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed through the forest, lifting the brushwood. The dewdrops clinging to dry leaves and foliage shattered into fragments, and those watery shards began to form all kinds of images, like reflections in a mirror. As though the spring breeze itself had begun to whisper.

The Grand Empress Dowager Wi Yeon spoke slowly.

“Children, look.”

The gaze of the Sixteen Trees bearing the palanquin followed the scattered dewdrops.

—Stop following me. I didn’t expect you to come all the way past the Great Wall... If I fight you, we’ll both die.

—Only you will die. Let’s see what your blade can do.

A blind man in a straw hat wandered over to Liu Yuan Star General Mun Gok, who tilted his head in confusion.

At the same time, the dew quietly popped and vanished on its own. As if it had fulfilled its purpose by briefly illuminating them.

That was the beginning.

The Grand Empress Dowager Wi Yeon continued slowly.

“Keep watching.”

Within the mass of dew under the sunlight, the world shimmered transparently. The hum of the wind resonated alongside it.

Each drop reflected a different scene.

—The Commander of the Law Division is heading to Hanan. The Heavenly Dragon Commander is carrying her. Proceed with utmost caution.

—So he really went north. Are those the defeated remnants?

—There’s more. We’ve tracked down the trail of the Cheonrim Commander, Hahoе Wi-jin. Headed toward Guangdong... Should we inform the Alliance Leader?

A vast mountain range. Martial artists from across the Central Plains watching the movements of the Divine Sword Corps.

—Tell Elder Iljang to take more Wood Qi. My head feels messed up. Like I’m bathing in lightning.

—In a moment, Baekyak will have another seizure. His energy has grown more violent. Warn the clan outside so they won’t be startled.

Voices flowing from a tree as massive as a fortress. Meanwhile, hundreds of tree roots surged through the ground like horned dragons, toppling the city in their path into instant ruin.

The era was shifting.

The Sword Sovereign of Simmuryun in Hanan was bowing deeply to his patriarch.

A black-robed girl holding a spear stood blankly in an abandoned house in Shandong.

The world’s greatest swordsman, now soulless, met a group with vacant eyes.

A limping War God, seated atop a mountain of noble corpses, offered a drink to the Emperor of Yongjing.

At the same time, the young Commander of the Divine Sword Corps lifted the flawless chin of the new Lord of the Martial Alliance—no one could tell if the gesture was a threat or a reconciliation.

—I allow it.

—What?

—I pity you. Try whatever you want.

That was as far as it went.

The dewdrops burst violently—pwak!—and from within, the soft voice of the Grand Empress Dowager Wi Yeon flowed out.

“So it has come at last.”

“......”

“We live in an era where it’s impossible to know what’s right.”

After the storm of shocking visions. The convergence and separation of countless powerful figures. A world too chaotic to predict a single step ahead.

“We must share the power of the World Tree with the clans.”

Wi Yeon’s voice settled into the silence, cold as ice.