The Ink-Swallowing Radiant Sword Scripture was unlike the Entrance Moon Technique.

It was a skill akin to a chronicle of doomed swordsmen’s experiences in the martial world, and instead of seeking swift victory, it aimed to elevate the completeness of battle itself. Therefore, it demanded time. Like the martial arts of many peerless masters.

Jeong Yeon-shin stood under the darkness spreading like ebony across the distant ridgeline, deep in thought.

‘There are too many martial artists in the world, and they’re too scattered. Sword Song won’t work. I wish the ones swarming the mountain range would back off out of fear...’

Mount Hua was a sacred mountain that housed a Gate. It must not become a battlefield.

If a clash were to occur near the sect, even someone like Jeong Yeon-shin could not predict what chaotic variables might emerge.

Meanwhile, from his palm, faint streaks of sword light shot upward like comets, crashing into the sky. It painted the still-cool spring of the Jinryeong Mountains with the dark colors of a northern winter.

Kiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

This space allowed him to fully express the profundities of the sword he had gained through the years, untouched by time. It had to be woven together with the serene mindfulness of a poet or painter devoting their heart to the brush. Like a young Daoist and an old vagabond debating the dull truths of life.

The Divine Sword Corps Commander’s departure from the Central Plains had entered its final countdown.

The domain his sword had manifested was too visible to be ignored. At this moment, it had already begun reflecting in the eyes of countless martial artists scattered throughout the Jinryeong Mountains.

‘Hmm?’

Suddenly, Jeong Yeon-shin looked down.

The Seventh Apostle, gliding ghost-like through the air, had changed course toward the peak where So Cheonmujuk sat slanted in meditation.

It was quite a distance away.

—Where are you going?

—I need to take care of that. I don’t know when it might stab into your heart like a dagger.

—What?

—Yeon-shin, do what you need to do. I’ll do what I need to do.

—Are you insane?

There was no answer.

The Seventh Apostle’s presence vanished into the sky in the blink of an eye. Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly felt more powerless than before.

Was it the accumulation of so many losses?

The emptiness of her absence, who had always hovered at his side, now weighed more heavily.

Like the subtle scent of new buds that had vanished without a trace.

Even as that thought settled, the darkened domain of the Ink-Swallowing Radiant Sword Scripture kept staining space like black ink.

***

A Jianghu without Ipwang Fortress.

It had been no different from a sky unbound—like the night sky. And now, as if time had fast-forwarded, the sky was turning pitch-black.

Wuuuuuuuuuuuuung—

Martial artists climbing the mountain with light steps as if walking on flat ground halted.

Though it was only a portion compared to the vast expanse of the Jinryeong Mountains, the corner of the sky had rippled with a deep, resonating hum and was dyed inky-black.

And it was steadily expanding, flickering with faint light like constellations.

“Night falls early in the Jinryeong Mountains...?”

“No way. Winter’s already passed.”

“It’s probably some sorcery from the Demonic Cult, or a technique of the Outer Sky Triple Layer. Or maybe Taoist arts from Mount Hua... Either way, hold tight to your lower dantian! Or you might lose your soul without realizing it...!”

Ruuuuumble—!

Cracks of varying thicknesses spread like spiderwebs down the rugged ridge.

The martial pressure released by powerful warriors ascending the mountain was the cause.

They had long roamed the freedom of a "Great Liberty" winter in the absence of the Divine Sword Corps.

“We’ve come to the right place!”

“Clan members, prepare for sword formation!” 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

“Namo Avalokiteśvara...!” (Amen...!)

In this Jianghu overflowing with hungry lunatics and madmen,

Those who dared to act as strong must, naturally, be familiar with all kinds of bizarre martial arts.

So among such figures, there were few who would cower at such ominous phenomena.

It was as if all the old masters who had secluded themselves to pass on their lineage or perfect themselves were suddenly descending en masse.

The order of the Central Plains had already been drastically reshaped long ago, and Ipwang Fortress had no place in it anymore.

There was no martial artist now who would retreat just because night had come early, like in the North.

That held true even for Simmuryun.

“Master Lyeon, it seems the Heavenly Demon Tomb really does exist!”

A man in scholarly garb shouted amid the ceaseless wind that lashed at their ears.

One sleeve of his robe flapped violently in the wind—completely empty—because he was being carried by another middle-aged man who, like him, only had one arm, slicing through the air.

That man was Jeon Baek, the Evil Cult Practitioner.

He had long served as a close aide to Gun Yu-rin, heir of Simmuryun.

He glanced up at the distant sky before hastily turning his head.

KWAANG!

“Whoaa!”

They burst clean through a rocky mountain full of nothing but sheer cliff face.

It had already happened dozens of times.

As pale dust rained down over his head, Jeon Baek, held tightly in a massive hand, inwardly reeled in shock.

‘She’s continuing this swordlight barrage without pause...! Sub-Lord, you’ve become a monster!’

It was no longer possible to approach Gun Yu-rin.

The one now accompanying him was none other than Lord Gun Wi-hu of Simmuryun, said to have recently broken seclusion after a great awakening.

His mere return had already reshuffled the power structure of the massive sect that ruled over thousands of martial artists.

From Sub-Lord Gun Yu-rin, back to Lord Gun Wi-hu.

He had always been considered the greatest wildcard in the fight for the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb.

But having experienced it firsthand, Jeon Baek realized:

Gun Wi-hu alone possessed the divine might to envelop the entire Jinryeong Mountains.

He was an entire order of power unto himself.

‘If he gets his hands on the legacy of the Heavenly Demon... it’s over! The founder of Eight Illusions Divine Arts, who once contacted the Sub-Lord, must be stronger than him...!’

Jeon Baek called out, his face grim.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Lord! You’re heading away from Mount Hua and toward Zhongnan! Why...?!”

“Did you sense nothing? Pitiful dantian.”

Only good for writing clever words and quick thinking—

A voice rose from the depths, as if dredged up from underground.

“...Excuse me?”

“Entering enemy territory that has already completed formation is folly. Especially when even their cannons are aimed our way.”

A man possessing invincible martial arts suddenly spoke of military strategy.

Jeon Baek couldn’t help but frown in confusion.

“Lord, is that dim sky really that dangerous? Even the petty guardians of the Great Righteous League wouldn’t fall for such a simple illusion...”

“You may know literature, but in martial arts, you’re an imbecile. Silence.”

The true Invincible One had spoken.

And then—

Thud!

Gun Wi-hu’s figure blurred across the mountains and turned westward.

It truly was the direction of Zhongnan Mountain.

‘He said he’d dig through the foot of Mount Hua, but now... is that what he gleaned with his dantian insight...?!’

Clinging behind him and looking back over the ridges, Jeon Baek saw that Gun Wi-hu was not the only one who had changed direction.

Many martial artists who had been about to cross into the darkened sky had suddenly halted their movement mid-qinggong and veered away.

It was as if the mountains had undulated like a slithering dragon.

“What’s going on?”

“Master, why did you suddenly...?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling! There are other sacred mountains where the Heavenly Demon might’ve hidden their legacy!”

“Cowards! As if the Heavenly Demon’s tomb would be something cheap like your ancestors’ graves! This level of ominousness was to be expected!”

“The Explosive Battalion will proceed as planned! The ancestors of our sects walk with us!”

“Don’t fall behind, Blue Dragon Formation!”

Though none among the countless powerful martial artists understood what exactly was happening,

The martial world of the Jinryeong Mountains was beginning to divide itself.

Toward Zhongnan Mountain.

Toward the sacred mountain of the old, toothless orthodox sect.

***

The Jinryeong Mountains were a mountain range of great significance.

They had long served as the border of martial arts, culture, and power in the world.

Naturally, they were absurdly vast and long. Even Zhongnan and Mount Hua were practically extensions of the Jinryeong range.

“...So, the mountain paths of Southern Five Peaks in Zhongnan are inevitably convoluted. Especially for martial artists trained in lightness techniques, the roads leading to Zhongnan Sect must feel like sword paths woven with illusions.”

It was Mun Gok who spoke.

A mountain path thick with barren branches.

Hуeon Won-chang and Yeon So-ha, both Liu Yuan Star Lords, stared blankly as they discussed the mountain paths of the Central Plains, but offered no particular sentiment. Their conversations only unfolded when the mood was right.

“Thinking about it now, it’s remarkable what New Blood Star achieved. In front of that presence...”

At Hуeon Won-chang’s murmur, Mun Gok responded immediately.

“You mean Lord Jin from the Divine Sword Corps? He was certainly remarkable. Though he was a Blood Demon of mixed lineage with rumored issues in regeneration... Once he returns with his arm fully restored, the Divine Sword Corps will be able to utilize a far broader range of tactics. Right away, strategies like the Stratagem of Enemy Engagement or the Stratagem of Chaos from the Thirty-Six Stratagems...”

Only a few in the Corps, like Oh Wol-hyang and Wi Ye-ryeong, were listening carefully to his words.

The rest—over a dozen—were either scanning the distance from sheer cliffs or quietly feeling out nearby presences with their eyes closed. Each of them distanced themselves slightly from Mun Gok.

They would follow Jeong Yeon-shin’s decision to bring Mun Gok into the fold, but they could not bring back the fallen warriors of Ipwang Fortress lost in the Demonic Realm. That was why, even if most members of the Divine Sword Corps were more familiar with loss than Jeong Yeon-shin, time was still necessary.

Hуeon Won-chang thought,

‘How could the ramblings of a monster ever sound like human speech?’

Meanwhile.

Far to the east, the edge of the sky had dimmed into a dusky hue. The spring rain had yet to fall—perhaps ominous storm clouds were gathering instead.

Dry branches fallen over the winter crunched beneath their feet. Yet no new buds were visible, only cold, damp soil pressing against bare skin in the spring wind.

Rustle.

It was the sound of the youngest, Shin So-bin, stepping to the right.

She shaded her forehead with a flat hand and asked,

“Is that a storm cloud?”

She stared intently at the far eastern sky.

Her blue robes fluttered helplessly in the hollow spring breeze, but her gaze toward the direction Jeong Yeon-shin had vanished into did not waver.

“Only that side of the sky has darkened. It’s just like what I saw in the Dark Path... And didn’t Senior Heon once enter the Dark Path Palace himself? Seomye’s martial pulse—are we sure it’s normal?”

Hуeon Won-chang felt a stormy gale rise. Somehow, it was a familiar feeling.

“After Lord Jeong, is it White Miao next? For the next supply drop, we’ll need to prepare extra sleeping bags...”

“What?”

“Nothing. So what you’re saying is, that’s the life-saving anomaly Lord Jeong manifested in the Dark Path?”

It was a relaxed question. Those from Ma Gwang-ik’s circle were used to Jeong Yeon-shin unfurling grand techniques like ceremonial banners.

Swish.

Shin So-bin drew her sword and said,

“It doesn’t feel like Lord Jeong is in danger, like the term ‘life-saving anomaly’ would suggest, but this must be the beginning of a major battle. We need to be ready.”

“I already feel military presence around us. It’s not the disciplined aura of a well-trained army... but there’s a lot. Just a whole lot.”

Hуeon Won-chang’s voice was tinged with weariness as his gaze swept in all directions, assessing the terrain.

At the same time, the moment he stopped speaking, silence spread in every direction.

“.......”

The sound of dry bushes brushing against themselves.

The wind, distant and low like the growl of some monstrous beast.

The long, internal breathing of Divine Sword Corps warriors.

And then, presences began surrounding them—stealthily encircling the area using the silent footwork of Grass-Flight Steps.

They were countless, like a swarm of bees.

Indeed, battles fought to defend something were the hardest in the world.

Oh Wol-hyang, the one-armed middle-aged swordswoman of the Divine Sword Corps, slowly unsheathed her blade and smiled awkwardly.

“For decades, rumors about the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb have circulated through Shanxi... and now it’s been revealed that the tomb of an unnamed demon actually belonged to the First Heavenly Demon? And the only places sacred enough to conceal such overwhelming spiritual energy would be the hidden valleys of Mount Hua or Zhongnan? So then, you’re saying that in the stronghold of the righteous martial world... the demon lies sleeping?”

Her blue long coat had faded from years of martial wandering, but that made it blend more naturally with the soft spring sky.

“In an ordinary time, this kind of thing wouldn’t even be thinkable. Not unless a new order stronger than the old factions had formed in the Central Plains.”

That was the reply from April Palace Ghost, Wi Ye-ryeong.

“The real problem is probably the major orthodox sects who’ve come all the way out here.”

Yeon So-ha added his voice.

A sharp-witted youth from a noble family in Beijing, he thumped the ground with his foot using the Resonant Step of the Hwanik Division, speaking leisurely.

“It’s practically barging in and trying to break down Zhongnan Sect’s front gate. No way that kind of preparation ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) is ordinary. They’ll come with justifications too... probably bring someone who’s good with words to match swords with speeches. They’ll try to justify this use of force with sophistry.”

While everyone was storing up energy.

Suddenly, all eyes of the Divine Sword Corps snapped to the rear.

There, peeking out from behind a tree trunk, was a little girl—no older than seven or eight at most.

It was Jeong Hye from the Zhongnan Sect.

She spoke clearly and firmly.

“You can’t leave sect affairs to outsiders. That’s like riding on a stranger’s back.”

“......!”

In that instant, the fine hairs on Hуeon Won-chang and Yeon So-ha’s arms stood on end—as if triggered by instinct.

By then, a thick beam of light was already rising from below the mountain path, passing between the two of them.

Its trajectory soared straight toward Zhongnan.

Rumble rumble rumble rumble!

The mountain path flipped deeply as if it were a valley.

It was quite literally a landslide. Just from the uninvited guest's movement, the ground had been gouged out, and the entire terrain was changing.

‘In the middle of that... Hye-ah...!’

Hуeon Won-chang’s eyes twitched violently as he recognized the light streak for what it was in an instant.

It was a natural disaster bearing the very features of the Lord of Simmuryun.

It was irresistible for anyone.

A massive shadow blocked Jeong Hye just then.

The crimson-black energy of the Heavenly Armor erupted like a nightmare.

BOOOOOOM―!

Lord Gun Wi-hu of Simmuryun was blasted away by successive shockwaves.