Mun Gok glanced around. The seats that should have been filled with brushes, ink fragrance, and the literati of Ipwang Fortress were now hollow and empty.

The grand hall, famed for having the sky itself as its ceiling, now merely caught drifting specks of dust floating within the shafts of dazzling sunlight.

The sight he had so long awaited was nowhere to be found.

Mun Gok spoke.

Waiting for each one of them?

There must have been at least seven giants who had passed the provincial examination but abandoned the metropolitan one. This was no trivial matter. Far more meaningful than any idle talk... Grand Commander?

Im Jin-myeong, his face practically buried in a letter, finally lifted his head.

Dark shadows hung under his eyes like poppy blooms.

He looked no different from a man who had spent nights without sleep.

Before Mun Gok could even ask, Im Jin-myeong spoke first.

"You need something?"

"If Brother Im entrusted some work to me as well, perhaps things would ease up a bit. Of course, it’s a matter of trust, isn't it?"

"Brother? Cut the nonsense."

Im Jin-myeong made a face as if the suggestion was absurd, but Mun Gok’s expression remained perfectly calm.

At his casually loosened hand, a figure sprawled onto the floor — a woman, dragged along and leaving a trail of blood as if painted with a human brush.

"Who is it? Turn her face."

"You know of Lee Teum-wang, don’t you?"

"Wang...?"

"Yes."

"That’s not what I heard. Wielding the sword among the Twin Weapons of the Sword and Saber, he’s said to be one of the Five Heavenly Swords, no? They say he deserves the title of Emperor, standing atop the era of warlords carrying even the starving farmers on his back."

"True imperial enthronement isn’t granted to just anyone. If it’s merely a nickname within the martial world, that’s another story."

Mun Gok then pointed with his thick fingers at the unconscious woman.

"They say four women, known as the Four Immortals, are striving to crown him as emperor. According to Yeoryeong, each has a different background and education... Even as the fourth wife, she must be considered a person of interest within the Great Pure Alliance."

"And such a person dared to violate the fortress?"

"She was acting together with the former Lord of the Eon Clan. Had they truly succeeded, they might even have disrupted the Seclusion Training of the Sacred Spear."

"Banished rebel Eon Won-seong...?"

Im Jin-myeong’s expression shifted slightly — Banished Fist Emperor, a martial world title Mun Gok had mentioned earlier.

A man once hunted by the imperial family.

"Truly skilled in measuring their steps. If Lady Yeowicheon ever reaches supreme transcendence, she may become something similar."

"Hmm."

"If they had attacked the fortress directly instead of targeting me, it would have been far more troublesome. That’s the way masters of Fist-Walking techniques operate."

"But they would certainly have died instead. In any case, understood. Judging by her condition, we’ll need to check her pulse first."

Clap.

Im Jin-myeong clapped his hands.

From another seat, the middle-aged scholar Gi Dae-seung rose carefully, cradled the woman, and disappeared toward the medical wing.

Only then did Mun Gok show interest in what he considered the most fleeting matter.

"Are any physicians left?"

"Four. And the head of the Medical Hall is still alive. The rest... we’re still searching."

Im Jin-myeong’s voice trailed off. His face betrayed a quiet bitterness.

Mun Gok clicked his tongue.

"For a force of this size, to have only five physicians left."

"Of those four I mentioned, two are said to have recently regained their true nature. The rest is a matter of time."

The once-unrivaled Fortress of Ipwang, broken and scattered.

Even during the years when it dominated the Central Plains with force, such a downfall had not occurred.

The damage to their prestige was enormous.

Many of the physicians, chefs, attendants, servants, and warriors who had scattered would likely never return.

Even in peaceful times, there were always those eager to seize the wealth and reputation of the Ipwang Fortress.

"In a world like this, even a tattered reputation can be a great source of power."

Mun Gokcontinued in an emotionless voice.

"Some might kill a physician from the Medical Hall, then claim they defeated an Ipwang disciple. If ten sword-wielders gather, they could act like mountain gods over a village of a thousand and never starve. Among them, there are bound to be ignorant fools who scorn a fortress that has already fallen once."

"......"

"If the success of the Northern Campaign quickly becomes clear to the world, it’ll be a different story. By the way... Was that why you mentioned the God of War, Brother Im? I’m curious about your thoughts."

Rustle.

Without a word, Im Jin-myeong handed over a sheet of paper.

Written in chaotic brushstrokes, as if a land dragon were twisting through the earth, it was Yeoryeong’s report sent directly to the Ipwang Fortress Command Center.

"A Yozoku’s handwriting."

Mun Gok shook his head and began to read:

[Regarding the incident at the Sambong Plains.

1. The venerable God of War collided with the Celestial Bowmaster Chi Cheon-gung Baek, the Lord of Seonmokryeong, and the traitorous leader of Muryonghoe.

2. Situation of fragmented battle lines, each fighting for themselves. The God of War overwhelmed them all!

3. The Muryonghoe leader, having been granted the first strike, nearly severed the sacred left shoulder. Bloodied but laughing heartily, the God of War found it amusing.

4. "Put that skill to use on trees."

5. Shocked, the Muryonghoe leader retreated. Chi Cheon-gung Baek exchanged a dozen long-range bow shots with the God of War before retreating as well. Confirmed through lip-reading, the God of War remarked for the first time on the absence of peerless warriors in the world.

6. Lord Mun Gok of Ipwang Fortress, beware of the Northern Emperor’s assassin squads. They are truly vicious.

7. Even amid chaos, waves of qi gathered without cease, forming around Seonmok Lord. Her forehead was like the eternal ice of the Northern Sea. Even the God of War failed to break her head open in the first strike, and her rainbow-colored energy ripples left a scar across his chest.

8. The God of War lifted the unconscious Seonmok Lord and, stepping amidst the Northern Emperor’s assassin squads, smiled broadly.

He is right before your eyes. Now, with brush in hand.

Mun Gok, share a drink with me.]

The handwriting at the end clearly shifted — much older, far more practiced in Chinese characters than the earlier Yozoku scrawl.

Mun Gok’s expression turned strange.

"...He must be feeling lonely. We used to have occasional drinking bouts together in the past."

"Even with Haomun-ju at his side, it’s not enough. In these chaotic times, when all sorts of rabble don armor and gather in droves, it’s natural to long for the Liu Yuan Star Lords. Not just me. Even Master Jeong would feel the same."

A faint smile touched Mun Gok’s lips.

"Are you worried I might leave for good?"

"That's for you to decide."

Im Jin-myeong shook his head firmly.

"We need to prepare to leave Nanjing. I intend to mobilize every available force."

"Then the fortress will empty out again."

"As the Emperor Yungjeong himself said, the Three Great Imperial Protectors and the Three Grand Generals have entered the Central Plains. Disguised as martial artists, no less. They will come here under imperial decree."

Mun Gok let out a low sigh.

"The ones I met were truly martial artists. So, after entrusting the northern front to Ipwang Fortress, the Great Pure Alliance started to look like an eyesore?"

"Something like that."

"Interesting. Among the newly famous masters who appeared, I wonder which of them they really are. And how well they will follow the Zhu clan of Tianxia."

Mun Gok added with a slight shake of his head.

"These are chaotic times indeed. With bribery and betrayal rampant, it’s impossible to distinguish friend from foe at face value."

"...It’s time to clean up our backs thoroughly. If Seonmok Lord is safe, I plan to propose an alliance to the God of War. The Great Pure Alliance and the Tianxia Tree show disturbing signs. But... if it turns out the God of War has private designs on Seonmok Lord because of the Tianxia Tree’s saplings..."

Im Jin-myeong slowly rose from his seat.

"After joining Lord Jeong at Mount Song, I will immediately petition to subdue the God of War. And while at it, clean up the martial world as well."

"......"

Mun Gok remained silent.

He could not help but recall the madmen of Ipwang Fortress he had passed while dragging the Lady Go.

Though the Ipwang faction had always been a place that protected something, the northern martial world he had experienced firsthand — the Shin Sword Corps, solely focused on preemptive strikes — was something else altogether.

'The Central Plains martial world has yet to experience anything like that.'

The Command Pavilion remained hollow, but something had filled those empty spaces — dust, sunlight, and Im Jin-myeong's smoldering wrath.

Even with Mun Gok’s shadow cast across the hall, the sunlight remained dazzlingly bright, almost oppressively so, as if poured down in tyrannical brilliance.

***

Mount Song.

The giant Mun Gok crushed a stone with his step as he climbed the grayish-white hill.

Among the Five Sacred Mountains of the Central Plains, this was the central one, and now under the glaring daylight, a Yozoku was treading it.

Not alone — he was accompanied by dozens of warriors from Ipwang Fortress, the character ‘Hwang’ emblazoned on their shoulders.

"This place, this is..."

A mountain famed for countless poets and scholars who had revered its spirit and recited lofty ideals.

Im Jin-myeong opened his mouth as if to say something to Mun Gok but soon shook his head.

'It’s not that he’s too moved to speak. Even for an eccentric Yozoku, that's unlikely.'

At that moment—

"There was a great battle here. That cliff has collapsed massively."

Mun Gok, surveying the surroundings, pointed to one side.

"And the opposite rock face looks like it was ripped out like a weapon... the light force of Mun Gok. That soot in the shape of a hammer only appears after Mun Gok gives up on a short battle. When the opponent's defenses are absurdly strong, and strength is needed over speed."

Whoosh!

A tremendous gust swept past Mun Gok. At the same time, the ground rumbled ominously.

Mun Gok did not finish his words.

"We should be sensing the 'Gate' by now..."

But what Im Jin-myeong, Shin So-bin, Hyeon Won-chang, and the four armed forces of the Shin Sword Corps encountered was not a battlefield.

It was a human wall, surrounding a large temple.

A mind-boggling mass of people.

"......"

It was impossible to count their heads.

Most of them radiated the fluctuations of inner energy.

Easily over a thousand people, and very few seemed untrained in martial arts.

Unless every powerful clan and local warlord of the Dengbong Prefecture beneath Mount Song had gathered, this was unimaginable.

A massive silence loomed.

Though they had arrived at the proper destination, it felt like they were blocked by something overwhelming.

Some among the crowd looked disheveled, as if they had stayed awake for days and nights.

"What the...?"

Hyeon Won-chang muttered quietly.

A double-edged soliloquy.

What reason could such a mob have to covet the tribute rice of Shaolin, and why were they unable to enter the temple?

"Just one... just need to confirm just one thing..."

A noble-looking youth in silk clothes whispered anxiously.

One of those types often seen wandering the martial world, usually unable to recognize true masters and ruining their family’s fortunes.

But not now.

Despite fidgeting, he did not dare move a step forward — as if an extremely sensitive absolute master were cultivating inside Shaolin.

"Hey there, excuse me—"

The moment Hyeon Won-chang casually spoke up, the unknown nobleman shook his head violently, eyes wide with terror.

And in that instant — a crackling, blue bolt of lightning shot down from the sky toward Hyeon Won-chang's crown.

Zzzzzng—

A deafening sound like a giant bell being muffled by a hand.

It came from Hyeon Won-chang's sword, which he had instinctively drawn.

Overwhelming thunderous energy surged through the blade and into his head, but the Golden Restriction Art of the Seven Veins shattered even that force. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"Hah."

A powerful exhale.

For a fleeting moment, the blue radiance of lightning flashed across Hyeon Won-chang's martial arts-trained eyes.

"Ah, it was you."

A familiar woman’s voice reached his ears.

Suddenly, the surroundings had cleared — as if an epidemic had broken out, the gathered crowd of martial artists had retreated like the wind.

An unobstructed view.

Above the main gate engraved with the words "Shaolin Temple" sat a woman clad in pure white.

Perched atop the character "Lin," one leg dangling down, an elbow resting on her bent knee.

Sunlight danced upon the silver mask covering half her face.

It was Xiao Tianwujie, the Master of the Ming Sect.

"I don’t intend to interfere with people living or dying by their fates," she murmured lazily, "but I happened to see something interesting from afar. So now I’m standing [N O V E L I G H T] guard."

Her lips moved slowly.

"You stay right there too."

"Hmm?"

At that moment of puzzled exclamation from a middle-aged man, the blade in Hyeon Won-chang’s hand buzzed — beneath the plaque defiled by the Demon Sect’s master.

"You there, that thing..."

A man in a wide bamboo hat approached, leaning on a sword instead of a crutch.

A one-armed swordsman — yet his grip on the hilt was so strong and stable it was remarkable.

'The leaders of the External Demonic Path are... guarding Shaolin’s main gate...?'

Hyeon Won-chang doubted his own eyes. Had he come to the wrong place?

"Excuse me, apologies. Excuse me—"

From behind, an exceedingly polite voice squeezed through the crowd, carefully requesting passage.

An attitude bound to artistry and etiquette.

And the shadow over Hyeon Won-chang grew larger, eclipsed by a massive figure.

"Perfect timing."

The shadow finally covered him completely.

Standing face to face with Xiao Tianwujie and the greatest heretic swordsman was Mun Gok, smiling gently.

And immediately, he began speaking in strange, incomprehensible words.

"The God of War had six stars by his side, but he never unified the Demon Realm nor succeeded in the Southern Campaign. It’s because he treated them as companions . To crush the rough and mighty anti-God of War faction, he needed to send his close aides into deadly battle without hesitation."

"......?"

"In contrast, look at you. Even after sweeping through all directions, you have no companions, not even nearby, and have exchanged deep grudges with the Northern Emperor. In a world desperate for pawns to use and discard, you two have none."

Mun Gok spread his arms wide.

"You have become the Six Yuan Star Lords of the Northern Emperor. Only four remain."

Step.

Hyeon Won-chang, worried about catching madness like a disease, began to retreat with careful footwork.

At the same time, he whispered to his sword:

'I can only rely on you and  LordJeong now, my friend.'