“It’s already been quite a while since the rise of the new Five Heavenly Swords, hasn’t it?”

The sunset was deepening.

“Today’s martial world moves fast. The situation constantly changes. It’s quite unlike our sluggish battles.”

The crimson twilight shimmered in the drifting clouds, and down below, white marble ramparts stood out sharply.

So spoke Wollyo, Lord of Shinyogwangjeok, their voice ringing out clearly—somewhere on the boundary between woman and man.

“The Wudang Sect Leader and the Supreme Sword Master of Paegeom Sect still hold their places, of course... but now, the so-called Supreme Sword of the Unorthodox Path and the two violet-clad warriors of Ipwang Fortress are regarded as Five Heavenly Swords only in slow-witted rural provinces. Ah, I say that to provoke you.”

The voice flowed gently atop the veil of twilight light. Even the tone carried a pleasant musicality, like a song.

“Regardless, three individuals have filled in the gaps. First, of course, we must count the Dragon Sword Lord of the Heavenly Tree. Then the Alliance Master of the Great Pure Sect, not when wielding the Mighty Blade, but the Wandering Wave Sword. And finally, the Sword King of our Tyrant Seven Stars.”

It came from the west.

Suddenly, an overwhelming display of striking power.

KWAKWAKWAKWA—BOOM!

Dust burst out as the marble fortress walls collapsed one after another in a chain. Yet Wollyo’s androgynous voice continued on like a street performer’s recitation.

“Someday, all of the martial world will learn of Yeonhwa Nata’s return... but whether he’ll regain the renown of the Five Heavenly Swords is uncertain. Since he’s retreated from the North, perhaps a decade of seclusion to restore his dignity is worth considering—”

“Shut up!”

Ak Su-rim’s shout burst forth like a battle cry.

Wollyo didn’t listen. Their smooth, sound-infused energy waves merely filled the inner walls of Ipwang Fortress like mist.

“That Celestial Palace Lord mingling with the Singgeom Corps—I've heard the Sword King is similar. Not mountain-born, but a noble savage from the southern coast, who sharpened his blade against the waves of the sea...”

“I said shut up!”

“There has never been an era where the front waves of the Yangtze clashed so swiftly with the back. Perhaps it’s time even the Singgeom lie down in the sand. Aren’t you feeling sleepy by now?”

Wollyo laughed softly.

“Will you really stay up for seven days and nights like some dramatized martial tale?”

That was the trigger.

As if in harmony with their laughter, the air rippled like a lakeside. A translucent roof of energy formed above Ipwang Fortress.

Heaven-Drumming Formless Zither.

The light of the setting sun warped and collided in the air before descending in a massive wave toward the source of the voice.

“They say the swordless warrior Mu Maek is known for quick battles—why hasn’t he died yet?”

It was in front of Ma Gwang-ik’s grand pavilion.

“......!”

Ak Su-rim, who had been flung backward by the Celestial Palace Lord’s monstrous fist wind, slammed her spear into the ground with a loud thud. Her mid-length hair whipped in the air from the recoil. Without even turning her head, she shouted:

“Shin Hwang!”

A roar echoed from the roof of the pavilion.

Right after the Great Warrior of Myeolseom, Shin Hwang, raised both hands to block the shockwave of Heaven-Drumming Formless Zither. His Divine Flame Twin Hands burned white-hot from his large fists.

The spiraling shockwave of distorted twilight stopped abruptly. It was a materialized pulse of inner energy.

In the center of the sonic attack—seemingly in midair with nothing there—Shin Hwang had driven both his hands in.

His lips trembled faintly.

At his feet, roof tiles crumbled like mud. The sonic energy, made material by overwhelming pressure, was pushing down into him.

“This... seems beyond the bounds of understanding now. They say Myeolseom Lord Muk Shingun’s palm technique is peerless, but creating such force for two days and nights is another matter entirely, isn’t it?”

His voice flowed into the ears of the gathering warriors like water. Yet Wollyo’s presence had vanished, hidden like a spring breeze.

It was the secret stealth art of a hermit master.

Meanwhile, cracks began racing across the roof of Ma Gwang-ik’s pavilion.

‘Still heavy. The upper dantian spiritual power of Shinyogwangjeok’s Lord fuels a martial system of explosive energy.’

White breath spilled from Shin Hwang’s mouth. His entire body had been heated through long activation of dynamic qi. His eyes spun wildly, like a madman playing with marbles—searching for Wollyo.

And then— 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

KWAKWAKWA—BOOM!

The entire roof caved in, exploding into shards of shattered tiles. Shin Hwang landed inside the chamber below amid thick dust.

Hack—!

Droplets of blood from a mouthful of coughed-up blood mingled with the dust.

It was the private chamber once used by Jeong Yeon-shin when he was Lord of Ma Gwang-ik. Now, it belonged to Cheongmyeong, the Blue Mist Sword, who had taken an interest in calligraphy and painting. On the wall were portraits of past Ma Gwang-ik Lords he had served.

It was clear martial artists had already rampaged through here.

No painting remained whole. They weren’t burned—just slashed intentionally. Especially Jeong Yeon-shin’s face, which had been meticulously mutilated.

“......!”

Just as Shin Hwang saw the personal seal stamped on the mutilated portrait—

Another orange wave spiraled down in concentric circles. A sonic energy wave, descending from the sky with twilight, aiming to obliterate the entire chamber of Ma Gwang-ik.

CRACK—!

He blocked the energy above his head, and his whole body trembled violently. His eyes briefly caught sight of one of Jeong Yeon-shin’s paintings.

Perhaps the only one not defaced by enemy factions. Given where Cheongmyeong had gone after serving the Ma Gwang-ik Lord, it made sense.

‘...Divine Flame Twin Hands.’

The seal of the Jeong Family’s dynamic qi.

Internal energy drawn to its absolute limit filled both palms, flowing into every point without loss and transforming into striking power. A palm technique once ranked at ten levels of mastery had now reached the mythical twelfth.

BOOM!

He clapped with enough force to crush the air. The sonic wave of twilight compressed and vanished.

A fierce gust swept the chamber. The recoil ended there.

“...Hmm?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

It was Wollyo’s voice. Perhaps the result wasn’t what they expected. Shin Hwang leapt into the open sky where the roof had collapsed. He burst through the air with a sharp wave of motion, heading toward the sparring yard in front of Ma Gwang-ik’s main hall.

Wollyo’s voice followed immediately:

“For someone said to be the seventeenth of the Divine Sword Corps, perhaps you gained enlightenment over these past three days of fighting?”

It was true.

‘The God of War.’

Most in the Central Plains still didn’t know. But few of the senior martial artists had failed to notice the single clash between the God of War and Jeong Yeon-shin during the Grand Dark Path Tournament.

Shin Hwang had sensed it clearly. Even the aftershock of the striking power had been buried in complete calm, like a still lake—just for a second.

He had once seen the Fortress Lord of Ipwang strike. The resemblance was uncanny.

As if it were the mark of the world’s greatest.

It meant there was a shared secret.

If one was a martial artist, it was inevitable to aim toward that.

All the more so for the current black-clad guardian of Ipwang Fortress, who had to protect something great.

It was a thread of realization Shin Hwang had grasped in recent days. Based on countless extermination battles he ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) had fought as Lord of Myeolseom, it might still be insignificant—but perhaps, someday, he could present this understanding to the Lord of the Divine Sword Corps.

“......”

Just as Jeong Yeon-shin’s face flashed through his mind once more, Shin Hwang landed silently in the sparring yard in front of Ma Gwang-ik’s pavilion.

Ten paces ahead.

A sleeveless man was rubbing his knuckles. Of course, it was the Lord of the Celestial Palace. As if he had already sensed Shin Hwang’s approach, he smiled with a flick of his long blue warrior’s sash fluttering behind him.

He was mad for battle.

“Muk Shingun doesn’t tire. I, on the other hand, have a different level of unity between essence, energy, and spirit, so even moving the same way, I don’t lose as much stamina...”

His face was full of delight.

Beside Shin Hwang, Ak Su-rim’s breath was audible.

Haa... haa...

The third day of the battle to retake Ipwang Fortress.

A fight that had gone nonstop for two straight days. It had never once been fought at partial strength. If anything, it was astounding that Ak Su-rim was still on her feet, only exhaling heavily and refusing to collapse.

By contrast, Namgung Hwa-shin of Suncheon Province was buried under a pile of stones by the wall like it was her grave.

She had flown all the way from Shandong to Yangyang using some secret spear technique, and the heat had risen all the way to her head. Just the fact she was still standing on both legs at this point was bizarre.

Whoosh!

Even when the Celestial Palace Lord suddenly appeared in front of her with a step technique and drove a fist into her chest, her reaction came late.

“......!”

The front of her black robe caved in. The punch was so forceful it suppressed even the sound of her ribs shattering. Her defensive qi shimmered faintly, and a thick shockwave burst from the impact point.

CRAAAAASH—!

She was hurled backward, punching through several thick walls of the courtyard, clouds of dust rising on either side like waves.

Just before the Celestial Palace Lord could chase her down in a single step, Shin Hwang seized his wrist with a palm burning white-hot.

Chiiiiik—!

White steam hissed up.

A clash between palm force and defensive inner energy. But the Celestial Palace Lord only grinned despite the crushing grip on his wrist.

“It seems Ipwang Fortress has a new strongest black.”

Just then, the atmosphere rippled in the distance.

It was Ak Su-rim, who had launched herself atop a spear shaft thrown like lightning.

BOOM—!

The shockwave from her spear shattered several walls. She returned at a speed that transcended sound, kicking the end of the spear as it landed. Her body flipped in a graceful arc, sleeves billowing.

The Yue Family Spear. Unyielding Loyalty.

The spearstrike burst with blazing sparks as it crashed into the Celestial Palace Lord’s shoulder. It sounded like iron being crushed. Shin Hwang, still holding his right hand, slammed a knee into the back of his leg to force him to kneel.

“Nggh!”

The Celestial Palace Lord staggered hard for a split second, but caught Ak Su-rim’s ankle with his left hand. With a loud crack, bones groaned in the low air as he slammed her down using her leg like a club.

CRAAACK—!

Then Shin Hwang’s knee burst through the dust and smashed into the Celestial Palace Lord’s flank. The Lord spat blood with a faint, laughing exhale and twisted away with a spinning move laced with Silk-Wrapping Force.

And then he spoke.

“Why does Muk Shingun never seem to tire?”

Shin Hwang didn’t answer. He simply sensed Ak Su-rim landing silently on one foot beside him, and quietly gauged the enemy.

‘Even if he’s a peerless master, he’s still of the new generation. If I fully coordinate with Senior Ak, we can win.’

It was a thoroughly rough and straightforward fist-and-spear style. All rooted in foundational training, it was far from the polished martial arts of a prestigious sect.

Then—

Soft steps.

A handsome man approached, bathed in the twilight like an ornament. His face was pale, painted with powder, and his mere presence disrupted the flow of internal energy.

“Why so persistent? Please die now.”

Wollyo, one of the Thirteen New Celestials.

Until the third bloody sunset stained the sky, he had reigned over the battlefield. With only a few lines of provocation, he had shattered the flow of all three black-clads’ chain strikes, and long since blocked the advance of every blue warrior outside the walls.

The convergence of instant killing intent.

Right now, Ipwang Fortress was a land of death.

Only those whose dynamic inner strength was unified with divine consciousness at the upper dantian could defend their minds. Anyone else would be slaughtered by Wollyo’s overwhelming sonic attacks.

From start to finish.

Every word Wollyo spoke constructed that domain. Even his relaxed provocations had been a form of upper dantian martial technique.

Shin Hwang stepped forward before Ak Su-rim.

“I’ll take the vanguard.”

“What nonsense is that? If they’re all black-clads, obviously I should go first to disperse the energy waves—”

Ak Su-rim abruptly trailed off.

She had sensed that Shin Hwang’s breathing was unusually calm. At the same time, the pale youth buried under the sparring yard wall stood up like a ghost.

SLAM!

He forcefully snapped his dislocated arm back into place, the clear sound of bones popping in the air.

Shin Hwang asked,

“Can you still keep fighting? If you’re exhausted, don’t force yourself.”

“I can fight for seven days and nights.”

Baek Gi-rin of Suncheon Province’s reply left the crowd speechless. Though he showed no sign of backing down, both Wollyo and the Celestial Palace Lord showed faint hints of unease.

“As long as I remain a force of meaning, I won’t abandon my role. That’s what it means to wear black.”

Namgung Hwa-shin spoke evenly.

“The Lord of the Divine Sword Corps who has arrived in Yangyang should be greeted by open gates. He’ll be here soon—but before that, we must finish this.”

“......”

The siege of Ipwang Fortress, facing off against the rising Thirteen Celestials. The reputation of the returning Divine Sword Corps was at stake, and every nearby faction was watching.

Of all of them, only Ak Su-rim was truly exhausted.