It was a scene of carnage.

Right after a wide-reaching sword strike tore through the atmosphere. The friction from that line had filled the market street with a reddish mist. Dozens, then hundreds of corpses began tumbling out at the edge of the plaza. All of them split at the waist.

Vessels that had once held the remains of the dead kings shattered or rolled across the ground.

Screams erupted from those who had survived. The former Eight Family Heads who had welcomed the Six Star Lords of the World had already turned their backs.

"This strike... surely the work of an unorthodox master."

"Unbelievable swordsmanship..."

"If such people roam the Central Plains, it's no wonder entire clans are being wiped out."

The blind man in the straw hat gave no reply.

He merely flicked the blood from his sword like a drunken man, and for a moment, Hahoe Wi-jin felt a strange sense of distance.

The Supreme of the Unorthodox.

A level capable of inflicting fatal wounds to all living things.

It was a situation even warriors of Ipwang Fortress could only agonize over. Was a starving commoner who had taken to eating human flesh still a commoner? And if a wicked man slaughtered them all, could he be considered an ally?

‘What a headache.’

Hahoe Wi-jin looked back on the situation.

Resisting the spiritual nature of the Cheonhamok had left him in a state like drunkenness, so much so that he had mistaken himself for Jin Myeong-jo and wandered freely. He had been exposed from the very start by the Grand Alliance, who possessed detailed profiles of all seventeen Division Lords.

Hahoe Wi-jin thought: not just anyone could live like Jin Myeong-jo.

The current situation was the problem.

Both hands were bound behind his back in the restraining ropes of the Grand Alliance’s experts.

He was currently vulnerable to surprise attacks. Having activated the Jeong Household’s Donggong Hundred Convergence Protection chapter to resist Cheonhamok’s mental assault, he had overextended himself.

In his mind, the sound of a young Jeong Yeon-shin clicking his tongue suppressed and pushed away the spiritual pressure of Cheonhamok. It was like the rhythmic sound of a high monk’s wooden bell—mystical resonance. A mnemonic of divine skill.

—You've gone and walked into the heart of a natural disaster. Of all things, a fool like this in the middle of the darkness...

A sound transmission from the One Sword Tiger of Simmuryun. It too was a voice strained and bitter, vanishing quickly from Hahoe Wi-jin’s ears.

‘Two behind me, six farther back. To the left and right, nine out of ten... They’re tightening in from afar. The energy density is close to blue. These are the elites of the elite.’

The noble bloodline’s body sometimes grew sluggish.

Had it not been for the mad blind man rampaging through the streets of Luoyang, he would have suffered a humiliation of historic proportions as a member of the One Sword Pavilion. He might even have been forced to kneel.

That couldn’t happen. Death would be preferable.

‘Am I not the black-blooded direct heir of Seomye Mu-maek?’

A well-known fact.

The dignity of the great masters always depended on those they trained. Hahoe Wi-jin was a renowned top-level master. Even in desperate flight, it was unthinkable for him to disgrace himself with a tether like a criminal.

Jjeoeeoooeong!

He nearly stumbled backward.

A monstrous sword shockwave from afar had struck, and the men who had bound his wrists staggered back several steps before they could regain their balance.

The Supreme Unorthodox Sword had clashed with the former Eight Family Heads.

A major incident shaking the martial world.

‘An opening...!’

Whoosh!

He grabbed the One Sword Tiger’s arm and spun in place like a leaf. Wind Body Technique. A rotation like Jeong Yeon-shin’s movements, slicing wind into existence.

“Block the rear!”

“The Cheonrim Captain is escaping...!”

The Grand Alliance experts kicked off the ground at once, but Hahoe Wi-jin’s turning technique had already become a unity of offense and defense. A pale windstorm swept out in all directions, raking not just the ground but the enemies too.

Kwa-ga-ga-ga-kak!

—You’re trying to escape with me...?

The One Sword Tiger’s voice transmission carried complicated emotions. Though he'd been imprisoned for negotiating with Simmuryun, a bond might have formed.

Hahoe Wi-jin threw him toward the enemies as bait, shouting out with a thunderous ki-infused voice.

[Extra meat.]

He didn’t have time to add a jab about how these scum were no different from Yozoku. A sudden sight swept across his field of vision. One of the Six Star Lords, Mugok, had lifted an entire jar and was drinking from it.

This, even while the battle between the Supreme Unorthodox Sword and the former Eight Family Heads was causing the altar beneath them to cave in.

“We didn’t even know each other, but they’re really good folks, huh? Thanks to them, my energy’s returning.”

He mumbled through leaking speech.

One of the Seven Treasures Divine Lords of the Grand Alliance laughed harshly beside him as he looked down.

“In the current Ming Empire, there are plenty of politicians hiding who deserve to be boiled alive. Royal warlords, the Zhu imperial clan, military ministers, martial noble families, corrupt officials... Most of them have been eating medicinal elixirs like rice. Even for a Star Lord, this is rare delicacy.”

“Your Central Plains intelligence is almost as good as Whirling Wind Hollow’s? How’d you know my inner energy foundation is corpse qi?”

“We didn’t know at all, actually. But are you sure you want to say that out loud? It must be part of your martial secret.”

“Doesn’t matter. The only one who ever interfered with my meals was that blind man over there. Maybe I’ll finally kill him now.”

The huge figure bent at the waist and let out a guttural belch.

“It’s not because he’s the Supreme Unorthodox Sword—it’s the man himself that gives me ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) the creeps. Win or lose, he’s the kind of guy who’d take off my limbs for sure. I avoided him before, but now that his eyes have turned red, maybe I’ll twist his neck.”

He leapt down from the altar.

Thud—

The ground trembled lightly. Dust swept out in all directions, and the giant Mugok strode boldly into the blood-colored mist.

At that moment, Hahoe Wi-jin had stepped back into the edge of the plaza.

The shockwaves from the world-class masters were now frequently bursting the bodies of nearby commoners.

A true martial artist of Ipwang Fortress could not turn his back on slaughtered innocents.

Even if this meant further loss for Jeong Yeon-shin, it was something the Master of the Divine Sword Unit had to endure.

All former Sword Masters of the Ascended Path had done so.

Jjeoeeoooeong!

A single feather struck and bounced off the back of Hahoe Wi-jin’s hand.

In the instant that the pale shockwave from its impact pierced the ground—

Hahoe Wi-jin adjusted the tendons of his wrist against the overwhelming rebound force.

Had it not been for the Jeong Household’s Donggong technique, his power would have been cut in half.

The feather was a fan spoke.

Part of an old-fashioned folding fan.

Its owner was obvious.

It could only be the elderly woman whose softly wrinkled face occasionally flickered amid the storm of sword energy.

Martial Empress of the Celestial Fan Jegal Cheong.

Said to unfold a thousand fans with a single hand—she was the ultimate martial authority of the Jegal clan, once called the embodiment of Empress Wu Zetian.

She was a former Head of the Jegal family, so powerful that even her husband was granted the Jegal surname, and she had lived through the age of tyrants.

She vanished from the Central Plains, having washed her hands of worldly affairs after an incident with Ma Yeonjeok.

‘Now, she’s one of the Seven Tyrants of the Martial Realm...!’

Before Crown King Ak Bigang had even smashed the main gate of Ipwang Fortress, she had already sat at the General Bureau’s desk asking, “What is death?”

It’s said she swept through Ipwang Fortress without any formations or tactical arrays.

According to old records from the main headquarters, she had originally been wandering the far West. She must have returned upon hearing of the death of her son, the previous Jegal Family Head, Jegal Paeryun.

Her granddaughter was Jegal Cheong-a, guest warrior of Ma Gwang-ik and current Jegal Family Head. But the grievances of parent and child seemed separate matters.

Kurururung—!

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

From the feather embedded at Hahoe Wi-jin’s feet, a cloud-like ripple spread out in white concentric circles.

The true energy packed into the long fan spoke repeatedly compressed, expanded, and rotated on its own, binding Hahoe Wi-jin’s feet.

It was a method that marked acupoints without direct contact.

The suction force was terrifying.

A clear message: Ipwang Fortress warriors would go nowhere.

A fierce determination was embedded in it.

‘She’s doing this even while fighting that blind bastard...?’

At some point, the sword shockwaves from the Heavenly Pole Sect Leader had stopped.

Only an eerie silence grew heavier like a creeping chill.

There were four of the former Eight Family Heads.

Enough to tear apart even the sword domain of the Supreme Unorthodox Sword.

Saaaa—

The blood mist surrounding them grew denser, swallowing even sound.

Occasionally, flashes of blue sword light would lash out like lightning, slicing and bursting the man-eating commoners outside the mist.

If not for that, Hahoe Wi-jin might have turned his back and let them fight among themselves.

“...I’ll need at least two more black-blooded ones. Ones still in good shape, ideally.”

He drove both elbows forcefully behind his back.

In his thick thighs, the true energy of the Radiant Art Knot continued to build.

The moment he expanded his muscles using the Jeong Household’s Donggong technique, an explosive leap burst forth like Jeong Yeon-shin’s.

The ground beneath him tore up completely.

Jjeojeojeojeojuk!

Having instantly closed the distance, Hahoe Wi-jin struck another fierce punch.

A beam of light that had nearly pierced a civilian’s back was blasted aside with a crash.

This time, it was a crosswind curving in a zigzag—but instead of the punch, it was a rebound from within his shoulder that deflected it.

Even though it was just a fragment of a Nega Accumulation Method, the nearby dust was blown back in a wave.

It was heavy—so much so that a dull stiffness locked up his muscles.

Even the ground beneath him hummed.

It felt like the pressure of a massive water current spreading like roots.

Thick moisture, true water energy, soaked his meridians and dragged down his body.

‘Goddamn lunatic...! That’s the former Gongson Family Head!’

His courtesy name in later years was Mad Lord.

His name: Gongson Wol.

A monstrous man who forged a friendship with Eastern martial artists and crossed the eastern seas.

Like many peerless masters who pursued the Martial Ultimate into old age, the former Gongson Family Head had also been called a madman.

He’d even thrown away his family headship, inspired by the great battle of the Year of the Imjin War.

He must have returned after hearing news of the Gongson family’s extermination at the hands of the Dark Sky Emperor.

Even madmen had families.

‘I really need to call for backup.’

Kwadeudeuk—

Hahoe Wi-jin restored his crushed muscles with the Jeong Household’s Donggong technique and let out a long whistle.

It was then that the aged will of Martial Empress of the Celestial Fan Jegal Cheong seeped through the red mist.

[You petty noble brat.]

“......?”

[To pull off a Bow-Body Rebound technique like that in windless air... You’ve clearly strayed from traditional martial disciplines. Hard to catch, I see.]

And at that moment—

From within the foggy path where Star Lord Mugok had slowly walked in, a rumbling shockwave echoed on and on.

Something was being repeatedly struck and crushed with the force and speed of thunder and lightning.

Occasionally, the sound of skin being horribly pulverized rang out with sickening flesh-splitting noises.

And as those dozens of heartbeats faded—

“.......”

Silence filled the marketplace.

***

Grand Alliance Reconnaissance Bureau Report

1. The walking tree, Cheonhamok, has arrived in Fujian using absurdly advanced lightfoot techniques.

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress departed from the Tree City. The Zhu clan of Fujian refused “Union” and fiercely resisted using formation mechanisms passed down over centuries. However, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress split the city in two with the Sword of Nirvana, bringing all martial rebellion to an end.

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress is currently known as the Emperor of the Turbid Heavens, or the Martial God of the Wiga Family.

2. Lord Lee Teum-je has given certain instructions to Dan Seong-eum, Head of the Defeated Sword Sect.

Please ensure that no Grand Alliance members interfere with the path of the half-blood noble dragging a greatsword behind him.

Pay particular attention to the former Eight Family Heads. They cannot be controlled.

3. The northern cripple has begun amassing power.

Thousands of martial men are offering bows to him as if to an emperor.

Rumors say even the official roads of Southern Zhilie and Yeoju are filled with people bowing.

The Demon Lord of Combat is considered invulnerable to joint attacks, and there is growing fear that the Huishang Daechunbang of Southern Zhilie may fall under the control of the crippled barbarian.

4. The emperor has fallen under the sway of Sword Master Seomye.

The legitimate authority of the Ming dynasty has essentially shifted hands.

For reasons unknown, the Head of Mount Hua appeared in Ipwang Fortress and vanished like a mirage.

Abbot Beomha of Shaolin traveled north toward Henan with the Sword Master.

Due to repeated information warfare, it’s long been known that Seomye’s magical prowess is genuine.

Suspicions of a connection with Shaolin persist.

Please expedite the planned alliance.

5. There is a baseless rumor that the Moon Demon Lord, now reduced to a severed head, sang a song of the world’s destruction from within Sword Master Seomye’s rucksack.