It was near dusk.

When crimson twilight stained the white fortress walls like paint, Jeong Yeon-shin received a message from the Lord of Hao Mun. It was a request for a private audience with the Master of the Divine Sword Corps.

"Isn't the Lord of Hao Mun now one of the God of War’s limbs?"

Sitting in the General Council Hall, Hyeon Won-chang frowned as he spoke, then added with disbelief,

"Even if he's gathering up every rumor from the central lands, what kind of nerve does someone who barely gets respect from the Yozoku have to send a summons...?"

Northern Emperor Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly.

"I’ll still meet him. It’d be best to decide the location before sunrise."

"Hmm?"

"The reply only included the time. Considering the sender is the God of War, we don’t know where he might suddenly show up."

From the side, Mun Gok nodded.

"He probably included only the time to restrict the Sword Heaven’s movements. The Lord of Hao Mun... even for a short meeting, he’s worth seeing at least once."

"Really?"

He smiled at Hyeon Won-chang’s questioning tone.

"It seems the God of War has taken him as his strategist in my place... If that’s truly the case, then the current Lord of Hao Mun is one of the most important people in the central lands."

Mun Gok didn’t explain further.

The God of War’s unbroken record of success, the weakened intelligence network of Yeoryeong after her death, the open seat in the Beggars’ Sect—all these were enough for anyone to put it together.

Suddenly, Namgung Hwa-shin’s voice cut in with a pleasant rhythm.

"Just before we reclaimed the base... Myungryudae quickly retrieved intel that included the Lord of Hao Mun’s movements. He’s a suspicious man. Not only has he had consistent ties with Simmuryun of the Thirteen Heavens, he also seemed to be feeding intel on the base to the sects that invaded during the Ipwang Fortress siege. He’s extremely dangerous."

"You're just waking up now?"

Hyeon Won-chang asked, but Namgung Hwa-shin had already fallen asleep again. His long eyelashes lay across his cheeks like blades about to be drawn.

"No such thing as a proper schedule at the Sword Platform of Wonpyeong."

To Hyeon Won-chang’s grumbling, Mun Gok replied in a calm tone,

"I’ll meet him."

"Didn’t you say it’d be best to reveal your identity as late as possible?"

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly. Mun Gok gave a faint smile.

"From olden times, the scenery seen through the eyes of the dead was always meaningless. Besides, my martial arts are like the pen of a scholar. If I don’t use it every day, the strokes get dull."

"Are you jealous of the God of War’s new strategist?"

Mun Gok didn’t bother countering Hyeon Won-chang’s sudden jab—because another message from the Lord of Hao Mun had just arrived.

It had been delivered to the main gate of Ipwang Fortress through clueless civilians.

If it truly came from the Lord of Hao Mun, then considering his mastery of techniques like the Turtle Breath Method and Reverse Pulse Ghost Flow, it would be nearly impossible to trace the letter’s origin across the vast lands of Hokwang.

[This is Muryongsan of Hanam.

Whether you bring your entire Divine Sword Corps or come alone is up to you—that °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° is the will of the God of War. Of course, if you bring your full force, he says a game befitting a northern field war shall unfold.

As you know, the God of War’s attack-and-retreat tactics are such that even the greatest masters can hardly respond. In the end, anyone must face him alone in a duel to the death.

Anyway.

I originally intended to set foot in Ipwang Fortress to directly assess the power of the current Divine Sword Corps...

But it seems wiser to preserve my own body and mind, so I’ll just send this message and leave.

Oh right.

To think the one who succeeded in the Northern Campaign is none other than Gwangya Ilmyeol.

Truly dreadful.]

Clearly, a dangerous figure.

He didn’t hesitate to make a mockery of himself.

And now, the man who manipulates the world’s information had joined the God of War.

Ssshhh—

Jeong Yeon-shin, still seated, burned the letter with Sammaejinhwa.

“...Muryongsan.”

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly stood.

As the white smoke curled past his shoulder, the sunlight pouring in from outside twisted atop the black ‘Hwang’ character.

***

It was quickly a moonlit night.

The smoke that lingered over his shoulder rose to the sky, as if becoming a cloud obscuring the full moon. Spring sunlight had been unusually short this year.

“You look lonely.”

Step.

Yulha Nangnang’s bare feet left shallow prints in the flower garden, now nothing but dirt. From where her heels had lifted, faint green sprouts began to rise. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

She had achieved a level of embodying the Living Sword with her entire body.

Once, Jeong Yeon-shin had even thought: if the earth’s energy weren’t so damaged, Yulha Nangnang alone could perhaps end famine.

“Even the head of a martial sect must be pressed for time, yet you made time. I’m grateful.”

She continued slowly.

“Judging from your appearance, weren’t you about to depart? Your luggage looks quite modest...”

“You summoned me, Nangnang.”

At Jeong Yeon-shin’s calm reply, Yulha Nangnang’s lips curved softly.

“Some bastards show up uninvited just to make trouble... Next time, I’ll be sure to call you to our sect’s Falling Wild Goose Peak. The Head of Mount Hua never lies about a vow bound by the Violet Altar.”

“Falling Wild Goose Peak was severed.”

“What?”

“My apologies.”

“I heard there was chaos in the Jinryeong Range, from the Abbot himself...”

Yulha Nangnang trailed off. She clearly wanted to press further but held herself back. Likely because she sensed how Jeong Yeon-shin was deliberately suppressing his qi.

He was preparing his inner force for a major battle.

To draw out the full speed and explosive power of his first strike, to unify spirit, energy, and mind in a clear mirror-like state.

If the current Commander of the Divine Sword Corps was this prepared, no expert who sensed his qi would dare start a casual conversation.

“I sensed your presence, so I called you. There’s something I must say—before I head up to find Yu Hyeon.”

“Please, speak freely.”

Jeong Yeon-shin replied while mentally calculating the distance to Mount Muryong in Hanam.

If he were fully synchronized with Jugwang Sinkae’s speed—what they called Ten Ri Radiance—it would take less than half a day with little effort.

‘Which means...’

He would soon meet the God of War.

As long as that thought filled his mind, he couldn’t afford to devote much focus to Yulha Nangnang.

He had only responded to her call to release the tension in his muscles.

No matter what they spoke of, the Mount Hua Sect Head’s unique floral-scented qi would always brush gently against his skin.

That’s why her sudden question caught him off guard.

“What does it mean to be the best under heaven?”

“...?”

“It’s what I thought when I saw that madman.

It was right after I met the Lord of Ipwang Fortress in Hangzhou. Maybe that’s why it hit harder. It was... quite a shock.”

Even without a name, he knew who she meant.

Master of the Severing Sword Sect—Dan Seong-eum.

Sensing that Jeong Yeon-shin was about to enter a tremendous battle, she brought up the one who had recently come to be called The Strongest Sword Under Heaven. It was her way of helping, in her own style.

“That day was different.”

Yulha Nangnang’s voice flowed slowly.

“It had happened many times before. When we were younger, I was the one who had to teach him how to grip the sword properly. Every now and then, we’d run into each other at things like the Yongbong Assembly in Shaanxi or the sect prescription meetings in Mount Hua.”

“......”

“But after he became the Lord of the Thirteen Heavens, it got harder and harder to withstand his sword force... and that day—on that day, not even my peak-level Ziha Divine Art could withstand his first strike. It was like he had poured his very soul into the hilt.”

It was an absurd tale.

The Living Sword was a realm where one nurtured all living things. It was said that even one’s own innate qi would be bolstered, resulting in a dramatic enhancement of sword power. Every dazzling sword path of Mount Hua was imbued with power that mirrored an immortal’s.

The final destination of Ziha Divine Art—

A realm where one could overcome heavy, oppressive sword pressure with only the subtlety of change.

To pierce through even Yulha Nangnang’s defensive initiation with a single move outside of Empty Moon Dance would be immensely difficult even for Jeong Yeon-shin himself. That is, unless he rotated three rings simultaneously and unleashed Thunder Strike of Sword Lightning Ridge at full force.

“Are you talking about the Master of the Severing Sword? I’ve composed a melody about the Head of Mount Hua and the Master of Severing Sword together...”

From the luggage slung over one shoulder, Wollyo’s voice drifted out.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Yulha Nangnang paused, but Jeong Yeon-shin swung the bundle like an Ak Su-rim’s gourd flask and urged her to continue.

“It’s just a relic of the fortress. Ignore it.”

“...In any case, that first strike clearly transcended reason. It wasn’t human sword power. His eyes were stripped of all rationality—like he’d suffered through eternity and finally lost the one thing that mattered most.”

“His soul...?”

“In my view, the martial world today is far too brutal. If someone wants to bear the title Strongest Under Heaven in a world like this, they have to lose something colossal. Sense. Willpower. Their origins. Their mind. No matter what they’re born with.”

She meant Dan Seong-eum, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, and surely the God of War as well.

“And... one more thing. From what I can tell...”

Yulha Nangnang smiled faintly at Jeong Yeon-shin, who had listened in silence until then.

“I don’t think you need to lose anything more. You already seem to have lost enough.”

Rustle.

Suddenly, her palm silently pressed against his chest.

The hem of his violet robe crinkled faintly.

“All you lack is time. You live in the same era as those who battle for the title of Strongest Under Heaven, but were given far less of it.”

Where the three rings intersected—

“But I’ve made some progress of my own. Now, at least temporarily, I can help bring your time forward.”

The callused hand, as firm as that of a sword-wielding ghost, briefly synchronized with Jeong Yeon-shin’s heartbeat.

Delicate pulse and strong rhythm aligned as one.

Living Sword.

The rings began to rotate on their own, like well-oiled wheels.

Unhindered Flow.

Exactly as the phrase implies—smooth and without resistance.

Like the natural form of a Northern body type, or the fluid sword of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress—it felt unrestrained, supremely free.

Then—

“When did you master Three Clear Strengths...?”

Yulha Nangnang’s eyes widened, and then her lips parted slowly.

“At this rate, you’ll hold out for half a day.”

“Nangnang, this is...”

“You may truly contend for Strongest Under Heaven.”

Because she had shared life and death with the Head of Mount Hua—her voice carried a trace of laughter.

It was distant and upright, like the peaks of Mount Hua in the West.

***

The ridge was a subdued ash-gray.

Mount Muryong, in Hanam.

One of the ranges encircling Shinya County, the hometown of Divine Sword Commander Seomye. A landscape raised up by the ancient, chaotic battles between monsters and demons during the Yuan-Ming transition.

Though the sun had long risen, light had yet to reach the ground.

The surroundings remained divided in black and white, as if stained by smoldering ash.

A clearing, large enough to build a modest thatched cottage.

“......”

The nobleman in a long robe, exposing a bit of his chest, remained silent.

He stole a glance at the figure casually seated on a log.

Light refracted and bounced chaotically around the hulking cripple at the center.

The center of the world.

He tossed and caught a pebble in steady rhythm.

Watching that motion gave the eerie sense the sky itself was trembling.

In the colorless world, the man of noble blood—the current Lord of Hao Moon—thought to himself:

This is the right choice. If I don’t join the Heavenly Eye, then aside from the Simmuryun...

He was certain.

Crunch.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps.

Light slowly filled the area.

When he tilted his gaze to the side, a violet robe fluttered in the spring wind.

It had color—

And that color deepened gradually.

“...!”

Dimly—

Dawn crept across the mountainside.