Divine Sword Corps Commander’s Office.

“Those rat bastards. Serves them right.”

“Weren’t they terrified of the word ‘Wilderness’? And yet they dared to crawl into Yangyang....”

Outside, spitting and cursing echoed clearly, spat upon the corpses. It was the sound of the commoners of Yangyang—after enduring all manner of horrors—dragging out the corpses of martial artists massacred by Wollyo, the Lord of Shinyogwangjeokmun, through sonic martial arts.

The moment they saw Jeong Yeon-shin entering the city, they had gathered on their own.

“Here, wild mountain vegetables from Mount Oun.”

Ak Su-rim placed the tray onto the pure white marble table, then quietly pushed Wollyo’s head aside—out of courtesy to Jeong Yeon-shin, who sat silently in front of the table.

This was a war trophy presented by Baek Girin of Suncheon Ik-ju to the returning Divine Sword Commander.

‘He fell asleep on his knees back there...’

She thought momentarily of Namgung Hwa-shin, who had slept for three days straight, when Wollyo’s head—now shoved aside like a flowerpot—suddenly trembled with force.

“There has never been, in all of history, such treatment of a Great Enemy’s severed head. Could you perhaps handle it with more reverence?”

“Isn’t there an aphonic point on the head?”

“You’ll have to ask this dead body of mine.”

Ak Su-rim didn’t ask.

He possessed innate inner energy as stubborn as the earth’s qi and had trained sonic arts through his upper body. His spiritual core was entirely focused in his head, and through some strange balance, only his head survived and continued babbling. Even sealing his aphonic points wouldn't silence him.

‘Actually, this works out better.’

At this point, he was nothing more than an information outlet.

What truly mattered was Jeong Yeon-shin, quietly staring down at the food in front of him.

“......”

Was he speechless at a proper meal made for a martial artist? Ak Su-rim thought it could be the case.

“There are no proper cooks in the fortress right now. So someone had to step in. Yep, so I did.”

A spring vegetable dish with five leaves gathered like a flower bud. The fragrance of the fresh leaves was so delicately preserved it felt like the living blade of a Mount Hua swordmaster. Even if it were Jeong Yeon-shin’s grandfather himself, not just the Divine Sword Commander, he’d be forced to marvel.

‘......?’

Wasn’t he from the Ma family?

Ak Su-rim opened her lips immediately.

“Rebuilding the fortress without any imperial support, we were even considering looting—but that’s already been solved. We’ve captured the Clan Leader of Gaebong, so that problem’s over.”

“During the Hangzhou mission and the Ipwang War, there were merchants and rulers who promised to supply food to the fortress.”

Jeong Yeon-shin finally spoke. Ak Su-rim’s lip curled into a sharp crescent, like a musical blade.

“I know. I memorized all of them. King Jeong, the Scarlet Emperor, the Luminous King, the Huishang Daecheonbang... and the rest. According to the Tianjin Scholars, they’ve cut off support completely. Now it’s every man for himself.”

“If we hadn’t passed through Shaanxi, it would’ve been disastrous. That one-armed elder is hard to read, but he rarely lies in speech.”

“If it’s Gaebong Clan Leader we’re talking about, he could feed seventeen households on his own. How did he end up losing an arm? He’s a bigwig who never interfered with the martial world, only dabbled in commerce—and supposedly consumed more elixirs than even the late emperor.”

“He probably reached into misfortune.”

To Jeong Yeon-shin’s calm response, Ak Su-rim gave a loose nod.

“These are chaotic times... Still, it’s a shame. Some of those people I mentioned have sided with the Grand Loyal Alliance or the Celestial Wood faction. They have no worries about supplies.”

She wasn’t particularly angry. She simply reported the facts in a flat, official tone.

Wollyo’s head chuckled lowly.

“If they had been truly wise, they would’ve reserved at least a portion of the supplies. But they foolishly underestimated the Divine Sword Corps—and broke their oaths. By now, they must be full of regret.”

“Like you?”

Wollyo didn’t answer.

“Celestial Wood....”

Jeong Yeon-shin muttered briefly, then asked,

“Does the sanctuary of the Ming-blooded need supplies as well? Last time I went there with Master, the inner valley was overflowing with grain.”

“Grain’s become more precious than silver. Especially polished rice—there’s no such thing as too much of it. Even more so for those trying to dominate the world through overwhelming force.”

Ak Su-rim let out a bitter laugh. It was rare for Jeong Yeon-shin to actually ask her something.

“Hasn’t this fortress always had good relations with the Celestial Wood? Then why, Senior Ak...?”

“Because all the ones running wild are enemies of this fortress. Besides, I’m not Ming-blooded. What I worry about is big guy, Soso, and So-yu.”

She stopped herself mid-rant, realizing too late what she was saying. But Jeong Yeon-shin simply smiled faintly.

“I see.”

“...By the way, about those Divine Sword prisoners—are you planning to bring more in?”

“Yes. We’re short on manpower. If they can contribute to the cause, I’ve decided not to kill even the wicked, at least for now.”

“The mad blood demon, fine—he’s useful to you. But what about that Yozoku? Judging from your face, even you don’t fully trust them.”

“He’s a strategist.”

“A what?”

“We once brought in the so-called Supreme Outlaw Sword as a prisoner too, but he was too uncontrollable to stay. If I see him again, I plan to use even what was meant for Jade Sword Zhenin.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Just then, Jeong Yeon-shin stood up.

“I’ll head to the dungeon for now. If we’re going to reclaim our scattered fortress people, we need to expand our fighting force as much as possible. We also need to secure Yangyang’s outer perimeter.”

“To persuade them...?”

“It was the lack of hands that led to the fall of Ipwang Fortress—and why it was so hard to reclaim this place.”

With that, he handed Ak Su-rim a wooden box scented faintly with ink and walked out of the office. Momentarily stunned as she clutched the box, she remembered her duty as the acting Vice-Commander of the Divine Sword Unit and followed.

As she rose and glanced behind, the spring vegetable dish from Mount Oun sat there steaming softly.

“The smell of herbs is pleasant. If this was meant to torture me, then excellent choic—hm?”

Ak Su-rim seized Wollyo’s head midair and quickly caught up to Jeong Yeon-shin. Her youthful face was lined with quiet worry.

***

Ipwang Fortress – Great Dungeon.

Underground.

Even with rows of lanterns lit, the humid air clung to the skin, and darkness lingered.

It was a place reserved for those who weren’t killed immediately when circumstances ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) aligned—most often used for torture. The purpose was to extract information.

There were no guards.

The only entrance had been opened through the center of the Ipwang Ma family’s inner complex. Upon hearing that, Jeong Yeon-shin gave a faint nod, almost like a sigh of admiration.

“Ma family.”

“That’s right. This way.”

Ak Su-rim halted at one side of the dungeon’s corridor. A sleeveless man beamed brightly the moment he saw Jeong Yeon-shin.

It was the Lord of Cheonseong Palace.

“Fight me. I’ve dreamed only of you.”

The stench of sweat was strong. He had apparently trained his external arts even while confined. Even though he was behind bars, there was something strangely free about him—a worthy candidate for the new Thirteen Lords.

Clang!

Grabbing the bars, he barked out,

“Release me from this dungeon and I won’t harm anyone. Unlock my sealed dantian too.”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked,

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Have you ever killed a civilian? Ever harmed anyone from Ipwang Fortress?”

The moment he spoke, the Lord of Cheonseong Palace grew inexplicably excited. He suddenly began ranting.

“Each joint of my fingers holds secret techniques devised solely to violate the Divine Sword Commander... I’ve longed to show them to you. Let us cross hands now. Whether it's the famed Shihwa Mugeuksu or Geomroe Seomreung Style, I don't care. If it’s something you’ve learned, even claw techniques would be fine.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, silent until now, turned away.

“Toes! Even toes!”

His forehead was mashed against the bars as Ak Su-rim moved up beside her young superior, whispering softly.

“They say he didn’t participate in the fortress's fall. He’s a powerful martial artist who snuck into the fortress like a thief. Other riffraff started worshipping him as some ‘Tyrant Among Seven Fiends.’ Still, I object to letting him in.”

At the same time, Wollyo’s head dangled from Ak Su-rim’s hand.

“The Lord of Cheonseong Palace... what a disgraceful sight. I once conspired with such a man... shameful.”

Ak Su-rim asked the grotesque head,

“When are you dying? We still have a lot to squeeze out of you, so I was planning to keep you around.”

“You may not know, Miss Ak, but the mysterious spirit of a supreme martial master can sometimes turn a personal weapon into an immortal artifact. My voice—my head’s voice—was once sung by elegant artists at Dongting Lake.”

“This is your head voice too?”

Whirl—

Like a fire-whirling toy from eastern Jianghu, Ak Su-rim twirled his hair, while Jeong Yeon-shin turned his back on Wollyo’s sound blast and moved toward another cell.

“Yeon-shin.”

She was one of the Seven Apostates of the Bloodflame Cult.

Sitting with her legs drawn in like a penitent, she looked up at Jeong Yeon-shin with a single crimson eye—strangely pitiful.

Of course, Ak Su-rim found nothing amusing about her performance.

“She said she was going to atone and walked in here herself, only to start cultivating in seclusion. And just now, she stopped right as she was secretly undoing her lotus posture.”

“Come out.”

Ak Su-rim stared forward in silence.

The Divine Sword Corps Commander extending his hand to a blood-drenched demon—it was strangely natural.

The Apostate parted her lips.

“You’re busy now. When will you actually need me?”

“Always.”

Jeong Yeon-shin added something about the unstable security in Yangyang, but before he even finished speaking, she spread the prison bars apart like strips of taffy.

“Help me finish the purge. If your energy touches my Fusion True Blood Qi, my internal circulation speeds up.”

“What principle does that follow?”

“Excitement and pain.”

Then she hooked his sleeve with her index finger, spun half a circle like a dancer, and pressed his hand to the small of her back.

Sarak.

The Mingmen Point.

Its name means “Gate of Life,” and even among dark sects, it’s not a pressure point entrusted to one’s master. If properly struck, even a trace of internal energy could be used to completely observe or kill a target.

Ak Su-rim found the display absurd, but useful. It was behavior that openly declared submission to Jeong Yeon-shin’s control.

‘This is the Central Plains. There are plenty who would make trouble over something like this.’

This was a land where words cut sharper than swords. The influence of scholars and gossipers could equal that of a martial master’s blade—especially when it came to tearing down those in power.

And the Divine Sword Corps Commander who’d succeeded in the Northern Expedition—his name alone could threaten even the emperor.

“Well, serves them right.”

Stepping out from the dungeon, Ak Su-rim murmured under her breath—spitting out a small, useless sense of loss as if it were caught on her tongue.

Up until just recently, those who dreamed of carving up the Central Plains like the sixteen kings of the Five Hu and Sixteen Kingdoms were likely now doing nothing but tallying numbers—calculating the impact of the Divine Sword Corps’ northern losses and the consequences of Ipwang Fortress’s return.

Just then, Wollyo’s severed head buzzed with laughter.

“I’ve played with many on the boats of Dongting Lake, but I’ve never seen a bond this dangerously thrilling.”

“Your head voice?”

“There’s a peculiar spark between them. Go down there now and you might see the Divine Sword Commander’s blade dripping with the blood of that demon beauty—or maybe, just maybe, they’ll be... locking lips....”

Whirrr!

Ak Su-rim spun Wollyo’s head like a rat wheel as she walked, and the dead Thirteenth Lord persistently probed at the edge of her mind.

“So you’ve lost your place.”

“What?”

“He may always be lying around like a fool, but when real siege warfare arises, it’s Suncheon Ik-ju they’ll rely on. When it’s time for decisive moves, they’ll look first to the Lord of Myeolseomdae. Then there’s the inscrutable giant Yozoku, not to mention the Seventeenth Lords from the north—surely grown even stronger—and none of them... would dare pick you, this pitiful creature...?”

As Wollyo’s nose rose into the air, Baekyeon, the white swallow, flew past and struck him with its beak.

Ak Su-rim drew out the wooden box from her robes and opened it.

Inside was a book.

A small note was tucked like a bookmark onto the cover.

<In the absence of the Fortress Lord, the Divine Sword Commander decrees:

Upon completion of this reading, Ak Family’s Mongbi is to take the lead as Ipwang Flagbearer.>

The characters were written in neat, square script.

Mongbi—Ak Su-rim’s courtesy name. It meant “Dreaming Flight,” a title she gave herself to symbolize her ambition to become the greatest spear under heaven.

Back when she succeeded in reversing her age through heavenly providence, she was known more often by her courtesy name than by her moniker “Ipwang Divine Spear.” It was once as renowned as the Tyrant Hero title, but over time had faded into obscurity.

Slide.

Removing the note revealed the title of the book:

“Jeong Family Dynamic Techniques: Mongbi Chapter.”

Even Wollyo’s fallen eyes caught sight of the inscription.

“A secret manual lowering itself to this level? In the hands of the tiny body of the Divine Spear... Ah, my apologies.”

His voice stopped when her fingers dug into his eye.

On her way down the dungeon steps, Ak Su-rim met Jeong Yeon-shin again.

She smiled childishly.

“With those Ma Family thugs gone, I figured I’d play prison guard for a bit.”

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s pace quickened slightly when he saw the secret manual in her hand.

Trailing behind, the Apostate tilted her head.

“Why are you running away?”

His voice floated lightly past Ak Su-rim’s ear.

“I gave her my diary.”

***

Then came a voice—loud and clear.

“Someone from Celestial Wood is coming. Supposedly the Grand Empress Dowager of this country. The report says she’s accompanied by one of the Four Great Guardians—Pagoda Yellow Paper.”

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly raised his head from the desk.

His vision darkened momentarily under the shadow cast by Mun Gok’s report.

He had just returned from the Ipwang Dungeon.

And had just given another assignment to the Apostate—ordering her to protect Yangyang from any sudden ambushes by transcendent masters.

The desk before him was buried in reports.

Supply, structure, companion assignments, the current Central Plains situation, incidents the Divine Sword Corps must intervene in, methods of reintegration for scattered Ipwang residents... all compiled based on the intelligence networks of Mun Gok and the Thirteenth Spirits.

This was the foundation-building phase before rising up again.

But among them, Jeong Yeon-shin was waiting for just one thing:

The report listing matters the Divine Sword Corps Commander must personally handle alongside his Divine Sword.

He had even narrowed his sensory focus to the fortress, as if in secluded meditation—fearing that if he lost concentration for even a moment, he might abandon the fortress to chase down the Tyrant Hero Seven Fiends again.

“There’s a big ripple.”

Mun Gok smiled faintly.

“In Shaolin, the Punishing Heaven Asura... I mean, Abbot Beomha, has descended with some defrocked monk. Their destination, of course, is here. On top of that, the Hao Mun-ju has sent word claiming to be the messenger of the God of Battle. And from Simmuryun, a faded noble who calls himself a monarch is on the way.”

Beomha and the Martial God.

Those two names stirred entirely different emotions in Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes.

“It should be within the hour. There’s even word that Shaolin and Celestial Wood forces clashed near the northern well of Yangyang....”

In that instant—Jeong Yeon-shin vanished from where he stood.