Every wall in the Ipwang Fortress Lord’s private quarters was covered in ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ tangled vines of the Celestial Tree.

The trunks of the Tree of the World were rapidly withering. In the midst of it all, a few leaves even crumbled to dust on their own.

As soon as Jeong Yeon-shin returned to his master’s chamber, he expressed his gratitude to Hell Heaven Monk Beom-ryeol. He did so while restoring the faintly diminished glow of his Radiant Wheel through inner energy breathing.

“I am indebted to you, Master.”

“...I’ve broken the precepts. That act means little to me.”

[To maintain courtesy with such a bloodthirsty face... The Divine Sword Corps Leader is no different from a rakshasa. Had he guarded the gates, how many twisted spirits would have lost their dens?]

Beom-ryeol’s voice and mental intent flowed out at the same time.

A somewhat embarrassed expression accompanied a thought that crossed the line without much care. Perhaps it was the aftereffect of manifesting his dharma power through Guanyin’s Clear River Technique. As a defrocked monk of Shaolin in the same lineage as Great Monk Beomheo, Beom-ryeol was refreshingly unpretentious.

***

Only then did Jeong Yeon-shin realize his own tension.

Bloodthirsty...?

It was time to regain his composure.

He quickly relaxed the facial muscles using Jeong Clan’s Inner Muscle Technique. As if he had felt every delicate and expansive movement, Beom-ryeol’s face noticeably stiffened.

“I spoke out of turn.”

[I need something to wash the sight of that away. Another perverse pupil like this to rival the Muscle-Tendon Classic...?]

Beom-ryeol’s voice overlapped again with a calm layer, and as Jeong Yeon-shin pretended not to hear and evenly rotated the Radiant Wheel in his heart—

“When I was young, I attempted to surpass the peak of the Muscle-Tendon Classic and nearly twisted all my muscles. Please forgive me.”

Great Monk Beomheo continued with a soft smile.

“I was suited for the Muscle-Tendon Classic of the physical body, while Beom-ryeol showed talent in the Upper Elixir Field’s Washing Marrow Scripture. We each pursued different depths in our studies.

As a result of such indulgence, I became crippled in my youth, and my disciple’s mental intent often overflows like a tidal wave.”

“No one would ever consider the Grand Monk’s northern journey as indulgent.”

At that same moment, Jeong Yeon-shin felt something firm and lively twitch at the crook of his arm.

It was the rectus abdominis of Yulha Nangnang.

Uuuung—

Perhaps it was the scent of the Tree of the World forest clinging to her hair that brushed against the front of his robe.

The Radiant Wheel, which had been fiercely spinning without end, now slowly calmed—like it had inhaled the clear air of Mount Hua.

“Your breathing?”

Yulha Nangnang asked as she pulled away from Jeong Yeon-shin’s embrace. He opened his mouth slowly.

“...Fully restored. I overstepped.”

Yulha Nangnang didn’t seem surprised by the speed at which Jeong Yeon-shin had recovered his energy. She only curled the corners of her lips in a faint smile.

“We’ve already exchanged our lives several times. Now there’s another shared experience between us. You’ve officially become the leader of your sect.”

“There’s much I need to hear from you, Nangnang.”

“You should say thank you first. Honestly, I thought I’d be buried beneath the Celestial Tree. It sucks in the earth’s qi so relentlessly, not one of them ever tires....”

That was extremely valuable information from the start. It meant the internal energy endurance of the Four Great Guardians, including the Dragon Sword Body, was monstrous.

A Celestial Sword among the Five Heavenly Swords that never tires and possesses regenerative capabilities—such a being was an overwhelming catastrophe for any faction. They could be considered the “true-blooded clan of the Ming.”

The biggest problem is they can launch a joint assault without warning. To properly counterattack or strike first...

Jeong Yeon-shin was still organizing his thoughts when Beom-ryeol suddenly interjected.

“Is that the Sect Leader of Mount Hua? He seems unusually young among the Taoist ones.”

“I pay respects to the Grand Monk and the Gatekeeper of Songshan.”

Yulha Nangnang joined her hands and bowed toward Beomheo and Beom-ryeol.

There was a different kind of ease in her demeanor compared to how she faced Jeong Yeon-shin. It evoked the image of the seventeenth generation of the Divine Sword Corps—perhaps a sense of old-school camaraderie.

“Gatekeeper, nonsense.”

Beom-ryeol waved a hand.

“I’m just an ill-tempered monk doing odd jobs. I only used Buddhist scriptures as a tool for martial cultivation.”

But Yulha Nangnang didn’t seem to take his words to heart.

Perhaps it was because she held a status that inherently recognized the strength and hierarchy of the traditional sects' gatekeepers.

“I remember hearing from you briefly when I was very young and visited Mount Hua. You said if the disciple had been around, they might have caught the Bloodflame Cult Leader Baek Rak. That among the senior warriors of the Mount Hua Pharmacy, he worked best with young Tyrant Heroes....”

At the same time, she gave a fleeting glance toward Jeong Yeon-shin and offered a smile.

In that moment, it seemed she hoped Beom-ryeol would establish a friendly connection with Jeong Yeon-shin.

Someone who could support the young man who had lost his master.

Beom-ryeol tilted his head toward Beomheo, who stood beside him.

“That almost sounded like an insult.”

“Yes.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, wary of possibly offending his maternal grandfather, quietly stepped half a pace back.

Then, addressing the elders of the old sects, he spoke with courtesy.

“Forgive me, but I must ask you to relocate. This is my master’s office, after all.”

Meanwhile, on Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder, the black character for Wilderness (荒) faintly absorbed the sunlight.

Even though he had deliberately used the word master, the darkened character’s presence only grew more pronounced in silence.

Just like the feeling of his master’s fingers brushing his skin.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyelids fell closed.

Yulha Nangnang, Grand Monk Beomheo, and Beom-ryeol stopped mid-step, silently watching the scene.

***

When he opened his eyes, he was at the Hall of the Chief Command Office.

The elders of the traditional sects were gone.

They had been guided to the Inner Fortress’s Guest Pavilion, as there were matters to handle before any reunion could take place.

Yulha Nangnang needed to regulate her qi through breathwork, and Beom-ryeol was currently acting as her guardian.

Grand Monk Beomheo, in turn, was overseeing Beom-ryeol.

—When that rascal enters Yangyang, he’ll abandon his role as guardian in a heartbeat. But I, being in decline, can’t fully protect the Mount Hua Sect Leader either. We’ll speak later. You have plenty to handle yourself, don’t you?

Hell Heaven Monk Beom-ryeol.

He was said to match the temperament of Jeong Yeon-shin’s maternal grandfather.

Which meant he likely wouldn’t match well with Jeong Yeon-shin.

Besides, Beom-ryeol already seemed slightly wary of the current Divine Sword Corps Leader.

What kind of mental intent did Bodhidharma use to create the Muscle-Tendon Classic...?

Jeong Yeon-shin calmly scanned the hall.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The meeting hall was wrapped in a translucent qi veil that hummed faintly.

A space so densely filled with refined energy that no one could spy on them—those gathered here represented the core of Ipwang Fortress.

“There are no more bodies.”

It was Shin Hwang, the Commander of the Myeolseom Unit, who reported first.

“Thanks to the help of the Blue Fortress and the citizens, most have been cleared away.”

It meant the corpses of the martial artists slaughtered by Wollyo’s deranged sonic arts had been dealt with.

He continued, explaining that since there was no proper burial site, they were all burned.

“It was a cremation devoid of any formality.

Some factions might take issue with that and criticize us, but it was unavoidable.”

Shin Hwang concluded in a detached tone.

Compared to the business of the Ipwang Fortress Lord, this matter was trivial—his expression suggested there was no need to expend effort on mere scavengers.

Jeong Yeon-shin promptly moved the discussion forward. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

“The next issue?”

A middle-aged man with scholarly robes, who had been sitting silently with his brows lowered, spoke swiftly.

“There’s quite a lot of clutter.

Not just from Shaolin and the Tree of the World—requests and messages are pouring in from across the land.”

It was Gi Dae-seung of the Chief Command Office, the same official who had once guided the white-clad Jeong Yeon-shin and Hyeon Won-chang to their lodgings.

Jeong Yeon-shin asked briefly,

“Their business is...?”

"They vary. Some are visiting notices, some are thugs trying to test our base power after the Northern Campaign or asking about future moves. There are also letters inquiring after the former Master and current Master... even a few sects have sent apologies for neglecting the people’s welfare all this time. It’s a small number compared to the entire central region, though.”

“Visiting notices, huh.”

Hyeon Won-chang, who had been sitting with a heavy expression all along, tilted his head and asked.

“Come to think of it, couldn’t those noisy bastards from Cheonhamok have just teleported directly to the Lord’s office? I don’t get why they went through the trouble of walking all the way to Yanyang.”

“Because they know how decisive the Sword Heaven is. The moment any movement was sensed, he’d be waiting, sword drawn like some maniacal butcher. What expert would willingly stick their neck into that?”

That was Mun Gok’s answer.

His voice was so calm, it almost made the long years Hyeon Won-chang had spent with Jeong Yeon-shin feel meaningless.

Mun Gok continued in the same composed tone.

“In any case, we’ll need to shut down the Lord’s office soon. This isn’t disloyalty—it’s the correct action. If, after everyone’s done catching their breath, the entire Unification Myung Clans were to suddenly manifest here, we’d have no way of stopping it. They are an entire nation.”

It was a highly composed persuasion, yet neither Hyeon Won-chang nor Jeong Yeon-shin’s expressions changed. Even as Hyeon Won-chang finally opened his mouth.

“I cut them.”

“...?”

“The branches of Cheonhamok. Starting from the black-robed ones, they could still access the Lord’s office. But now, it’s nothing but dust.”

Mun Gok glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin’s face. His expression was indifferent, showing not the slightest reaction. Like a younger brother who doesn’t involve himself in family matters.

A faint smile curled at Mun Gok’s lips.

“In that case, we can finally talk about the God of War. That was the main topic, wasn’t it?”

God of War.

The moment that name was spoken, silence fell over the round table. Gi Dae-seung with his writing tools in front, Hyeon Won-chang with arms folded, Shin Hwang sitting upright, Namgung Hwa-shin snoring, and Mun Gok holding several letters.

Some reports had already reached the base.

—Hao Mun-ju has made contact with the God of War. Reason unknown.

—Elder Council Head Shin Byeok, Ipwang Shin Clan Lord Shin Seol-ha, and Ipwang Ma Clan Lord Ma Jin were all confirmed to have encountered the God of War. Current status unknown.

—Rumors abound: total massacre, partial capture, or a tiny number having defected and survived.

—Circumstances suggest the God of War is now using Hao Mun like his personal Yeoryeong. No reliable intel on what’s actually happening.

Reconstructing the base was one of the most urgent tasks now facing Jeong Yeon-shin. He also had to recall the elite warriors scattered across the lands under Ipwang Fortress.

Mun Gok said,

“This too is part of the God of War’s technique. It was the same during the Southern clashes. Inflating false intel and misunderstandings, showing up in places he shouldn’t be and annihilating enemy strongholds, pushing the enemy so far they’re begging us for a full-scale war...”

The giant’s face remained emotionless. Whatever he was thinking, it was completely unreadable.

“But he doesn’t show up when we want him to. Even meeting him in battle is a struggle. Who knows what’s happened by now. Unless Emperor Gunreung’s Gongwolmu completely cut off his Whirling Wind Hollow.”

The God of War.

They said he was always a master of confusion. Treating every battle like some kind of game, moving like a ghost, striking where the enemy least expects it—just like the Yozoku’s own divine being.

Hyeon Won-chang muttered as if chewing on the words.

“So he really is a despicable bastard.”

“That’s why even Emperor Gunreung couldn’t push the Great Wall forward. He had no idea where or when Ming might get hit.”

Mun Gok’s face still showed no emotion. As if nothing about the God of War was even worth judging.

“He did anything for his clan. He always said it—martial arts are meaningless. What matters is being able to move the world without leaving your seat.”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly,

“So we can’t predict his plans, and can’t meet him without risk...?”

“But the Sword Heaven earned Namje’s recognition. And you’re accompanied by me, a loyal scholar of the Confucian alliance. As long as your cause is just, you can use villains as your limbs and still walk the path of the Great Way.”

Mun Gok spoke slowly.

“The vast north aligns with your vision. That is why the world must accept even someone branded a Sword Criminal.”

“...”

“And likewise—”

He smiled faintly as he continued.

“Anyone who blocks your path must die. Must be killed without hesitation. Only by caring about nothing at all can you unleash your full strength against the God of War.”

“Let the base captives die?”

“A cause,”

The giant’s voice fell calmly.

“is not a single-edged sword that ensures one side’s safety. It is a double-edged blade. If wielded too comfortably, it becomes the act of a tyrant. And tyrants must fall.”

Then he added in a low voice,

“As Mencius once said.”

Mun Gok’s words didn’t need deep analysis—they sounded like a test. A question of whether he could become heartless.

Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his eyelids as if in thought, then asked the scholar Gi Dae-seung,

“Will you write exactly what I say?”

“Please, go ahead.”

“If you try anything foolish,”

“Yes?”

“I’ll kill Mun Gok.”

“...?”

No one spoke for a moment.

“......”

The silence that followed was chilling. Then Mun Gok broke into a dreadful laugh, as if shedding his scholar’s composure.

Ssshhk.

The sound of Gi Dae-seung’s brush moving.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s letter was delivered through one of the many inns under Hao Mun’s network, and two days later, a reply arrived.

—Tomorrow.

Just that one word.