The Heavenly Demon staggered.

It was a slow, almost grotesque sight—like some ancient beast flailing through eternity.

“......”

The mountain’s silence was suffocating.

The dry rasp of dead branches brushing together, the rumble of distant landslides, and now and then, stone fragments flying all the way to the peaks... all of it was swallowed by the stillness. Dusk and twilight gradually cloaked the ridgelines.

The masters atop the peak kept their mouths shut.

But—

“There’s no sense of incompleteness to him.”

Jeong Yeon-shin thought, still holding the barely-burning Transcendence Sword, whose deep blue flame had nearly extinguished.

He steadied his internal breathing, silently fixing his gaze ahead.

It was clear that something had gone awry in the fusion between the Heavenly Demon and Baek Mi-ryeo. Yet it also seemed like he had been intoxicated—perhaps by the martial essence Yeon-shin had transmitted during their clash.

He was still smiling, wasn’t he?

“To your younger brother,”

the Heavenly Demon slowly parted his lips,

“How does it feel to be so thoroughly beaten?”

It seemed he wasn’t even acknowledging Jeong Yeon-shin, Cheonju-jinin, or the elderly Immortals nearby. He had asked someone else entirely—Baek Mi-ryeo, who resided within him.

“It pleased her.”

It was her reply.

Jeong Yeon-shin calmly asked,

“Is Senior Baek safe?”

“She is my vessel. She’s not like that half-wit.”

Perhaps because their hands, feet, blades—and even spirit—had crossed at such close range, the Heavenly Demon’s cryptic answer was perfectly legible.

If he was speaking of Baek Mi-ryeo’s mind, then yes—she was unharmed.

“That’s enough.”

Yeon-shin didn’t ask any further. The Heavenly Demon’s lips twisted faintly. It might have been a smile.

The Heavenly Demon spoke.

“If you had lived during my time, it might have been quite fun.”

“So Cheonmujuk is preferable.”

Because I can control her—Yeon-shin swallowed the second half.

At that exact moment, a woman’s voice struck like a thunderclap.

—That’s how you really feel? Well, I suppose it makes sense.

It was So Cheonmujuk.

Just as Jeong Yeon-shin had once been inspired by the Radiant Insight of Monk Beomha, her sound-transmission mimicked his own—without the slightest ripple in energy. He couldn’t even locate her position.

What’s she thinking?

She had suffered deep humiliation at the hands of the First Heavenly Demon. It wouldn’t be strange if she had lost her original purpose.

Her next question confirmed it.

—While I was keeping watch on you in Hangzhou, I overheard something by accident. Didn’t the Sword of Sacred Flame once talk about bathing with you? I mean, you were cheeky even with an elder like Monk Beomha—talking lightly like that, just as one would expect from Mount Hua’s youngest Headmaster.

—Why bring that up?

—Because I had to imitate it delicately. My body was in a terrible state, and those crusty old relics of Mount Hua were on the verge of acting against you due to some ridiculous misunderstanding.

So Cheonmujuk’s elegant voice occasionally flickered with static, but she still carried herself with the ease of someone calling herself the Bright Flame Sect Leader.

—Especially that old Twilight Swordsman. After shoving our previous exalted masters back into the gate, he actually developed a mental distortion. Anyway, you don’t need my thanks—it happens all the time.

—Yaryul, she said, using his northern alias, if you still have the strength to flap your gums, you’d better recover. You’re useless against the Heavenly Demon, but you might soon clash with some of the righteous sect’s elder fossils.

—What...?

—What.

It was then—

“To think the Heavenly Demon’s tomb was truly within the Jinryeong Range... The old saying about failing to see what's beneath your nose isn’t enough. Since when...?”

An aged voice.

Jeong Yeon-shin turned his gaze sideways.

Three Twilight Swordsmen came into view. Each wore a dust-covered robe with a faded plum blossom insignia embroidered over the chest.

A clear and refined spiritual aura emanated from them. Their energy was overwhelming.

Mount Hua.

The upper dantian of his Hundred Convergences style recognized them instinctively.

Their presence was like a flower that had once bloomed in full and then fallen to the earth. Among them, the most withered petal seemed to be the leading elder.

The old man briefly introduced himself the moment his gaze met Yeon-shin’s.

“I am called Heegeom. Master of the current Head Disciple.”

His face was lined with deep, graceful wrinkles, making it hard to read his expression.

Jeong Yeon-shin—careful now, wary of the intrigued look blooming on the Heavenly Demon’s face—gave a small nod.

“Jeong Yeon-shin of the Jeong Family greets you, senior.”

“You haven’t even reached your full maturity, by the looks of you. And yet they call you the Master of the Divine Sword Corps?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No martial attainment worth that title can be achieved through mere demonic cultivation or speed training. Your demonic energy isn’t as deep as your spiritual power... Your foundation lies in orthodox martial arts.”

That was as far as he went.

Then the elder, Heegeom, turned his head toward the Heavenly Demon as though that was enough. A free-spirited sword aura emanated from his stance—quintessential Mount Hua.

“Is that the Plum Seed Divine Technique?”

Mount Hua was among the oldest and most renowned sword sects. Naturally, its hidden techniques weren’t limited to the secret arts of the Headmaster.

The Plum Seed Divine Technique was said to amplify the power of every variation within Mount Hua’s sword arts—much like Yong Hui-myeong’s Ten Thousand Intentions Dragon Subduing Art.

At that moment, Heegeom murmured without taking his eyes off the Heavenly Demon.

“You’ve already discerned it. That Transcendence Sword is not excessive for you.”

To Jeong Yeon-shin, the scene appeared as a fragment of a world in chaos.

After all, Heegeom was a supreme master.

Even though Yeon-shin had long roamed the chaotic rivers and lakes of Jianghu, it was still strange to keep encountering such masters in succession.

“The world may say it permits no one to dominate alone...”

But what should he make of the fact that one great sage after another—elders of ancient sects—were stepping outside their gates?

As though the world itself were rushing toward an end.

At the same time, it seemed Heegeom could sense the current of Yeon-shin’s thoughts.

“Don’t let yourself be distracted by how often it’s happening. The very existence of the Heavenly Demon—this revenant of a bygone age—distorts the natural order. Should we not send it back to the heavens first?”

Such was the Sword Immortal of Mount Hua.

He had barely just stepped outside the gate, and yet already he was drawing clear lines about what must be done.

In the blink of an eye, he now stood before the Heavenly Demon, his robe fluttering like a storm.

Ruuuuumble—

Unlike Yulha Nangnang, he didn’t strive for infinite might like the Purple Mist Divine Technique.

But every sword movement crafted within Daoist tradition seemed ready to ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) burst forth like a landslide.

This was the sword aura of one who had cleaved apart not men, but monstrous entities beyond reason.

“This...”

The Heavenly Demon finally parted his lips.

“...is what the Daoists have become?”

“You would judge all the Daoist sects of the world with a single sentence?

Demon, even my humble cultivation is not worth a Mount Hua roof tile.”

Shff.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Heegeom's stance changed, as if it were a lie—his sword was now drawn. A scene fragmented like a moth’s fluttering wings. It was as though, throughout countless years, he'd entangled with such mighty monsters that he unconsciously invoked Body Transposition.

“Mount Hua Sect?”

The Heavenly Demon tilted his head slowly to one side. It was a reaction that attested to the era during which he had once moved.

“No matter how much time passes, you lot... remain so utterly insignificant, it’s blinding. Even a hundred years from now, two hundred years from now, it’ll be the same.”

A voice without inflection.

Whether it was praise or mockery was unclear—only the sense of years long buried within the original Heavenly Demon remained.

At the same time, Boom— the earth shook violently. Heegeom, who had already approached the Heavenly Demon, had struck down with his old iron sword, then withdrew it.

An intangible wave, bursting out from the Heavenly Demon’s body protection energy, had crushed down on Heegeom’s sword strike.

Despite the intense vibration that hummed through his blade, the old Daoist calmly shook it off. And muttered.

“In that condition, you’re barely a shard of the Heavenly Demon Armor... yet you’re still like this, even after the Sword Lord shaved you down...”

“Your sword strikes ride the wind like flower petals. A study too obvious for me. Step aside.”

The moment the command-like words dropped, the ground beneath Heegeom cracked on its own. A natural obedience to the Heavenly Demon’s celestial body. In a flash, a cliff was carved, and Heegeom kicked off into the air.

Wooong!

Dark Fragrance Drifting.

The old Daoist’s body traced a narrow parabola, then returned to the Heavenly Demon’s front like a mirage. A movement of the transcendent realm, as though a fragrance of intent never leaving his path.

But Heegeom had to face Jeong Yeon-shin first. Because the one step of Ten Li Radiance, imbued with the teachings of Master Jоо Gwang-shin, was faster.

Heegeom asked.

“What does this mean?”

A quiet voice. Like the wind brushing against the cliffs of West Peak’s rocky mountains.

Jeong Yeon-shin answered with a calm face.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“I allowed the Heavenly Demon’s manifestation. And I had a reason that made it absolutely necessary. Please, withdraw your sword.”

“You allowed it...? The Sword Lord did?”

For the first time, a clear expression appeared on Heegeom’s wrinkled face. Somewhere between bewilderment and furious rage—and the same was true for the two other old Daoists who had so far observed in silence.

In contrast, Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression didn’t change.

“I have dealt with the Cult Leader for a long time. The Heavenly Demon lineage, in all my experience, is the most proficient in side paths and thoroughly versed in countless mixed techniques. I judged that the original Heavenly Demon would have unique insights regarding calamity and the martial world.”

It was a composed explanation. Even when the Heavenly Demon’s voice, laced with amusement, muttered the word “presumptuous,” Jeong Yeon-shin remained the same.

“If one possesses unfathomable experience and a divine-level upper dantian...”

At that moment, Heegeom cut him off.

“That’s enough.”

“Elder...”

“I understand. It’s plausible enough. But you must understand me as well.”

In an instant, as if it were a lie.

Heegeom’s sword tip was aimed at Jeong Yeon-shin’s throat.

“I lack the insight to determine whether your decision is born of a young absolute’s recklessness or foresight. And this old Daoist has never coexisted with the Demonic, nor will I.”

There was no tremble in the tip of the sword.

He had the air of one ready to cut Jeong Yeon-shin down.

Even just the edge of that intent made the veins on Jeong Yeon-shin’s neck stand taut. His meridians and qi centers reacted on their own, in a broken body desperately pushing itself to heighten response speed.

Yet Jeong Yeon-shin stared not at the aged sword edge, but directly into Heegeom’s eyes.

“It may take days... but conversation is all that’s needed. I intend to talk right here on Mount Hua. You’re welcome to join.”

“I have seen countless demons within the gates. The Heavenly Demon is worse than them all. Can you not feel it in your spiritual essence? Stand down.”

At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin felt heavy pressure to his left and right. The two old Daoists who had accompanied Heegeom now stood to either side.

“Though aggressive, I sensed a proper nature in you. I don’t wish to cross swords. I even hold inner respect for your sword mastery.”

“Though clashes with secular sects have been frequent, Mount Hua and Ip Hwang-seong are fundamentally sworn allies. We do not consider Ip Hwang-seong an unorthodox sect, but a righteous one.”

Sarak.

Their white beards fluttered in the strong wind.

It was clear they were barely holding onto the unity of essence, energy, and spirit. Judging by their accumulated qi and experience within the sect, they could be called veteran masters like Hahoe Wi-jin.

They weren’t peerless masters.

Yet, in terms of palm strikes alone, they had near-peerless destructive power, and their internal techniques had struck true against the sect’s internal monsters time and time again. Though their essence as the physical aspect of the Three Treasures had waned, the insight from their ancient divine dantian remained sharp.

Each gaze seemed to look several moves ahead. These were orthodox old masters well acquainted with the movements of monstrous beings.

They were living cannons.

“The Sword Lord’s cause lies with the world... and so he seeks to protect the Heavenly Demon, even clashing with the Main Mountain for it...?”

It was the muttering of Sword Master Cheon Ju-jin.

At this moment, her face showed the height of confusion—it made it difficult to move rashly. She had her position as a Mount Hua disciple.

Just then, a low, woman’s laugh—like that of a man—spread through the air.

“A bodyguard, huh.”

It was the Heavenly Demon, wearing Baek Mi-ryeo.

“I thought it odd that you showed your back so easily. Dying’s given me experiences I never had in life. Still, the price for seeking my wisdom is cheap.”

There was no hint of bluff in her voice, yet Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.

“Conversation isn’t a transaction—it’s a kindness. I’ve proven my martial strength to you, and I seek to shatter the current flow of the world. If that suits you, then cooperate.”

One corner of the Heavenly Demon’s lips curled upward.

“You do realize what you’re speaking of is rebellion against the heavens?”

“Lingfa.”

He uttered only two syllables, and at that moment, a pale white radiance flickered from Jeong Yeon-shin’s breath. The divine essence of a grandmaster who had built his own martial path.

“It is the core principle of my internal art.”

“......!”

As the Heavenly Demon’s sardonic smile spread and tore wide across her face, faint sword winds shimmered like flower petals from the sword arts of Heegeom and the other old masters of Mount Hua. Along with crushing pressure.

Jeong Yeon-shin realized instinctively.

This was a joint attack too great for his current body to withstand.

At that moment, his lips moved with an otherworldly force, sending out a single sound transmission.

―Come.

“You dare...!”

Heegeom’s shout came just as the mountain air rippled violently.

[Meng Ja Dok Go.]

Suddenly, a giant landed, sending spiderweb-like cracks through the ground, erupting with a quake that shook even the mountains.

Kwakwakwakwakwakwakwakwa—!

The semi-transparent shockwave swept through the entire battlefield like a tidal wave.

“......!”

For a brief moment, the space turned blurry, shaking wildly in all directions—until the field returned to a silence like that of a scholar’s library.