* * *
A master's technique reveals many things, even with just a single move.
The direction of the movements, the form of the muscles, as well as the depth of internal energy and the nature of the energy imbued within—it all serves as a clue.
Anyone with decent experience in the martial world can instantly tell whether their opponent is a practitioner of Swift Sword or a swordsman trained in Strong Blade techniques. If they have mastered movement arts, it becomes even easier to see through them.
However, supreme masters are different.
A Swift Sword can create transformations akin to an Illusory Sword. A supreme martial artist who wields a fist capable of shattering mountains must also be adept in Harmonious Balance.
They have no choice but to disperse the recoil inflicted upon their own body.
The leader of the Beggars' Sect, Radiant Divine Beggar, who was known for the fastest movement arts in the world, could unleash earth-shattering power with just a few footwork techniques.
It meant that unless one deeply studied their opponent's movements, it was difficult to discern their true abilities.
Earlier, the Profound Martial Alliance's leader had witnessed the martial arts of the uninvited guest, which were akin to a lifetime's accumulation of profound mastery.
His first move had employed layered explosive force. It resembled Wudang's Ten Stage Brocade.
A martial art where the second strike in a sequence was multiple times stronger than the first. A technique belonging to someone skilled in layered impact techniques.
No martial artist could exert such power using techniques outside their specialty.
Only a seasoned veteran of advanced age could possess such deep comprehension across numerous martial theories.
Even if one required a sequential technique to reach full power, a supreme martial artist with peerless perception could withstand the first strike.
At least, when it came to techniques directed at oneself, that much was reasonable.
A supreme defensive energy art, Radiant Concealed Art, in ten layers.
The ancient layered technique of Radiant Concealed Art swirled around him like a storm.
The body of the Profound Martial Alliance's leader itself was a natural disaster. The absolute counter to layered martial arts like Ten Stage Brocade. He could shatter each stacked explosive force as soon as it formed.
This was why, even as he charged at the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, he had momentarily allowed the uninvited guest beside him to land an attack.
The Lotus Nezha sought to shatter the kneecap of the Desolate Fortress' warrior.
However, perhaps because all his focus had momentarily locked onto the inexplicable presence of the boy, he had failed to account for Revitalization.
A phenomenon so rare that he had overlooked it.
The uninvited guest's martial arts were not something that could be measured by Ten Stage Brocade.
'The pinnacle of Tyrannical Martial Arts…!'
It was a technique capable of condensing immense energy into a single move. A form of martial arts that disregarded the user's body.
In that instant, a hand tinged with a blue glow crushed through both his defensive energy and the layered technique of Radiant Concealed Art, shattering them completely. He had no time to disperse the force.
Had he adjusted his stance to directly face the attack, he would not have been struck down so helplessly.
Kuu-gu-guung—
The overwhelming energy radiating from the Profound Martial Alliance's leader's shoulder wavered. His arm had been completely torn away, shoulder joint and all.
His defensive energy had shattered, and his vital meridians had been obliterated. A massive gush of blood burst forth in a crimson torrent.
Time seemed to slow.
Atop the peak, where swords had been clashing, Jung Yeonshin and the Murong Clan's leader briefly stepped back.
"That bastard…?"
Murong Zhongrak's eyebrows shot up. His expression suggested he had witnessed something truly absurd and astonishing.
His gaze wavered as it took in both Ma Yeonjeok and the Profound Martial Alliance's leader at once. Yet, a strange excitement and a gleam of competitive spirit shone within his silver eyes, making him appear eerie.
Jung Yeonshin offered a brief bow toward the Profound Martial Alliance's leader's shoulder before calmly adjusting his grip on his sword.
It was an act of great gratitude, yet containing the Star-Radiance Grand Sword Lord took precedence.
Meanwhile, the lips of Gun Wi-hoo, the Monarch of Infinite Swords, trembled ever so slightly.
Even his seemingly stoic face could not remain unaffected by the shock of having his limb and meridians torn apart. One monstrous existence had shattered the expression of another monstrous existence.
A brief thought crossed his mind. Why had the man layered explosive force at the beginning? The moment he received that first move, it had felt as though he were forcefully suppressing the blood of fallen soldiers.
"So filthy."
A voice came from the Profound Martial Alliance's leader's side.
A long, flowing robe billowed. Its color bore no particular dignity. A shade of dusty pink, rare in all the world.
"Vile, conceited martial world swordsmen."
Step.
Ma Yeonjeok shifted his foot to the side, having just carelessly discarded the severed arm he had been gripping. The muscular limb, torn out to the bone, thudded onto the ground.
The sporadic bursts of blood failed to stain the heavy-footed path of the Tyrant Hero.
Despite unleashing an absurdly powerful attack, his robe remained utterly spotless.
"So arrogantly impudent."
There was a deep, aged contempt in his tone. It was the posture of someone who did not mingle with martial artists. His demeanor was more arrogant than that of any noble clan in the martial world.
"The leader of the demonic sect? He's nothing but a mongrel. Shaking the foundations of the nation while indulging in the culture and prosperity of cities and villages. Endangering the lives of the people and refusing to fulfill his tribute."
"You…"
A monochrome brilliance flickered in the eyes of the Profound Martial Alliance's leader, Gun Wi-hoo. It took the form of wavering flames.
It was the instability of his energy flow manifesting in his eyes. Simply maintaining Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown was already consuming an immense amount of mental strength.
Ma Yeonjeok spoke with an indifferent expression.
"At the very least, your contributions to the northern front are significant. Live on in your disgrace."
The one listening was a supreme master. Another way to describe him—a fanatic of martial arts.
He was someone who would have preferred to have his sect and name proclaimed before being beheaded in a single stroke.
Gun Wi-hoo's gaze darkened. His fury rising alongside it.
"The Dark Sword of Desolate Fortress… was there another warrior like Tyrant Hero?"
His pain must have been excruciating, yet his voice remained unwavering. It was nearly a soliloquy, as if he were testing something.
"Fool."
A grin curled at the edge of Ma Yeonjeok's lips.
"No such man exists in the martial world."
"..."
Gun Wi-hoo fell silent.
The snowy fur cloak draped over his back, which had been fluttering wildly, suddenly stilled. The turbulence in his eyes settled, and his pitch-black pupils regained their composure.
The blood overflowing from his shoulder gradually slowed, likely stemming from internal energy sealing the wound.
"I have…"
Gun Wi-hoo slowly raised his left hand.
Like a Shaolin monk offering a one-handed prayer, the Monarch of Infinite Swords clasped his fist in a martial salute. His posture was impeccable.
"I have committed discourtesy."
"...!"
Down below, the military forces poised to launch their movement arts abruptly hesitated. A brief murmur rippled through them.
The leader of the Profound Martial Alliance, the Monarch of Infinite Swords.
All the grand titles that once glorified Gun Wi-hoo had just lost their meaning.
Not only had he acknowledged his defeat, but he had also bowed his head. It was an event akin to heaven and earth overturning.
The man who had torn off the alliance leader's arm, however, continued to defy convention.
"Remain quiet, and simply raise your army."
"…So it shall be."
The Profound Martial Alliance's leader responded briefly, turning around slowly.
A seemingly straightforward acknowledgment.
For martial artists who have cultivated internal energy, the meridians form a microcosm, adhering to a precise order like the myriad laws of the universe.
A supreme master has typically surpassed the Greater Circulation of the Upper Body, attaining the state of Full-Body Circulation.
In such an internal energy system, the loss of a limb is directly tied to a significant decline in martial power.
Now, even if a formidable individual were to invade the Profound Martial Alliance alone and charge at its leader, there would be few means to stop them. He had no choice but to act with caution.
If he were to once again bring disgrace upon the nation, he might find himself decapitated by the newcomer in the long robe.
Step.
The Profound Martial Alliance's leader descended the mountainside, unstable energy waves leaking from his body. The sound of his footsteps piercing the silence was bleak and chilling.
The back of a supreme master, once vying for dominance over the world, faded downward, lower and lower, like a setting sun.
Faced with an unforeseen catastrophe, like countless other martial artists who perished anonymously in the wilderness, leaning against a tree, it was a scene straight out of the martial world.
"..."
The mounted warriors waiting at the foot of the slope surrounded the Profound Martial Alliance's leader. None of them dared to look up at Ma Yeonjeok.
They merely moved to conceal their fallen leader, the sound of their horses' hooves accompanying them. The high-ranking demonic faction's warriors, who had always carried themselves with pride, now lowered their gazes in solemn silence.
Clatter.
Gradually, they grew distant, unable to bear the weight of the invisible tyrant.
Among them, the one-armed Tian Po, wearing a peculiar expression, and Gun Yurin, whom he glanced at, walked slightly slower than the others.
—Today and the days to come, I have been utterly defeated.
The deep voice of the Profound Martial Alliance's leader faded into the air.
Beneath the lukewarm yet brilliant sunlight, between the passing winter and the approaching spring, his voice seemed to disappear into the void.
Breaking the silence, a bold and almost lyrical voice rang out.
"Today, 'that person' is the fallen hero, and in the future, it will undoubtedly be our Great Lord. How can the Profound Martial Alliance's leaders delinquent Young Lord and an unconfirmed princess even be compared to Lotus Nezha? They will regret this beyond measure. A martial artist's hand must carry weight, after all."
The voice came from somewhere beyond the slope, just below the mountaintop.
Someone was clinging to the sheer cliff face using Wall-Climbing Technique.
Just as the storm of an incident destined to be spoken of throughout the martial world had barely passed, they let out their musings, only to immediately scurry up the wall in surprise.
The direction was toward the cliffside, near where Jung Yeonshin and the Murong Clan's leader stood.
The moment the heroic scarf tied around their forehead peeked into view, Murong Zhongrak, who had been wearing a grave expression, suddenly moved his sword.
A razor-sharp trajectory was unmistakably aimed at Heon Wonchang.
Zzzzeong!
Blades flashed, illuminating the surroundings. A belated invisible shockwave rippled out, causing the ground to tremble.
It was the sight of the Murong Clan's leader's treasured sword and the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's Beiming crossing below. A single exchange had taken place.
Below them, Heon Wonchang's heroic scarf fluttered wildly in two strands.
At a glance, his expression seemed startled, yet his eyes were unnervingly calm.
Looking down at him, Murong Zhongrak faintly smiled.
"That's the face of someone raised in a well-structured sect. The disciples trust their leader."
"..."
"Radiant Demon Squad's leader, you're keeping up quite well. It seems that lotus flame can be extinguished and relit like a mere lantern."
His tone suggested genuine curiosity. While Ma Yeonjeok had been confronting the Profound Martial Alliance's leader, he had momentarily extinguished Ultimate Thunder, a technique with a time limitation.
Jung Yeonshin slowly spoke.
"Straighten your sword stance."
His tone was close to an order. Not something befitting a squad leader of Desolate Fortress addressing a martial clan's leader.
It was practically a challenge to the hierarchy of the martial world. It conveyed an intent to disregard formal ranking and measure strength directly.
Murong Zhongrak's smile deepened.
"What a predicament. I suppose this is a checkmate situation."
As he spoke, his gaze landed on Ma Yeonjeok, who stood with his arms crossed in the distance.
There was no other way to respond to the situation.
The Profound Martial Alliance's leader had been brought to that state. Even for a supreme martial clan's leader like him, it was an utterly dreadful predicament.
"Murong brat, this old man will not interfere. Spend your strength solely on showing off your meager sword skills."
Ma Yeonjeok spoke indifferently. Murong Zhongrak, however, seemed to pay him no heed.
"No way… Impossible, how could it be? How could Fusion Fist Strike counter that overwhelming destructive force… No martial art should be able to do that…"
He muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Heon Wonchang climbed up the cliff alongside the other two.
"I have witnessed this moment clearly and shall compose a verse to spread it. Radiant Demon Squad's leader is long overdue to challenge the Divine Sword Order. Our squad leader has spent far too much time on this already…"
"You nearly died, and yet you have the audacity to prattle on. If I see even a hint of you becoming a burden, be prepared to meet your end by my own hands. Stay put and out of the way."
"What? That was because of Senior Lazy Flame Dragon just now? Your faith in the squad leader is beyond excessive!"
Dark blue sleeves and pristine white robes brushed against the ground.
The Lazy Flame Dragon and Shin So-bin.
The eldest son of the Hwangbo Clan looked at Heon Wonchang with utter disdain, as if he were beneath his notice. Meanwhile, the heir of Desolate Shin Clan had a gaze filled with reproach toward her senior.
Both of them took a step outward, careful not to interfere with leader Jung Yeonshin.
"These people are so ignorant. Do they think that merely wearing a purple long robe makes one the Divine Sword Order's leader? No, one must first earn a reputation so terrifying that it shakes the entire martial world. And what spreads rumors better than a song? A written record, infused with vivid descriptions, holds the power to capture attention."
It was just as Heon Wonchang, who had silently slipped behind Jung Yeonshin, alongside the two of them, spoke.
Hwaaaaak!
From below, countless shadows erupted. The resonance of energy was piercingly sharp.
Dozens of figures shot up from the cliffs, their auras tightly suppressed until now.
Their appearances varied.
A renowned scholar from a nearby province, a merchant controlling the logistics of Taiyuan, a swordsman clad in tattered robes, likely from a third-rate martial sect, and even a tavern waiter still reeking of kitchen smoke.
The Grand Moon Slaughter Sect.
Scattered across the land in secrecy, they had now returned. They clung to the edges of the cliffs, their gazes converging on one point.
All of their icy, murderous intent was directed at Murong Zhongrak.
It was the fury of those who had just laid eyes upon the enemy of their sect.
"…Ah, I nearly forgot."
Schrring.
Murong Zhongrak's sword slid up the blade of Jung Yeonshin's Beiming, which was held downward.
The monster of Meteor Sword Technique, who had already drawn his weapon, opened his mouth.
"The last mnemonic verse of Heavenly Demon Sacred Arts must reside with you lot."
From the walls spread to his left and right, cries of pure outrage burst forth, bordering on screams.
"You greedy wretch!"
"How dare you! How dare you utter such blasphemy before our very eyes…!"
"What, that day was not enough? I swear, I will slit your throat even if it costs me my life!"
"Elders, restrain yourselves! The bastard is alone! Sharpen your sword energies!"
"You lot wouldn't even withstand a single Explosive Force Strike from the Radiant Demon Squad's leader."
He cast a brief glance at Jung Yeonshin before speaking again.
Perhaps he thought that if he executed his movement arts properly, he could escape even from Ma Yeonjeok.
Perhaps he had Protective Energy Technique, a secret art from the Heavenly Demon Tomb, hidden within his collection of manuals.
The way his pristine white robes billowed carried the confidence of one who believed so.
Even as Radiant Demon Squad's leader's body began to be completely engulfed in a transparent lotus, humming with energy.
"…Ah, now I remember. You, you there."
The supreme swordsman's gaze shifted past Jung Yeonshin's shoulder.
It was unmistakably directed at Heon Wonchang.
For an instant, Heon Wonchang's shoulder flinched, his robe shifting slightly.
It was an unintended reaction, visible for all to see.
"The scholars of the Golden Manor hesitated. I ordered them to lay bare your Eight Extraordinary Meridians and search for any traces of the Heavenly Demon's lineage. But in the end, they became distracted by the mere residual energy of a medicinal elixir and lost track of you. I considered punishing them but decided otherwise."
Saaaa—
From Murong Zhongrak's entire body, heat distortions began to rise.
The air around him took on a faint bluish tint, his energy gradually coiling around him.
It looked almost like the robe of an immortal, woven from mist and imbued with an eerie radiance.
"No matter. My Defensive Energy Art is now on the verge of completion."
At the moment his words came to an end—
Uuuuung!
The air in all directions rippled in monochrome waves.
A shockwave of mystical resonance.
It continuously surged from Murong Zhongrak's body.
In an instant, six members of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect, who had been clinging to the cliffs, fell unconscious where they stood, their eyes wide open.
The turbulence on the Slaughter Sect's side grew increasingly chaotic.
Yet, the relentless waves of energy split neatly into two paths the moment they reached Jung Yeonshin.
Just as the demonic sect's soldiers found themselves powerless before the presence of the Enlightened One.
As for Ma Yeonjeok, standing further down the mountain slope, it was even more dramatic.
The surging energy waves shattered like foam the instant they reached him.
The only thing left undisturbed was the flowing pink sleeves of his robe, billowing at his sides.
"..."
For a moment, Murong Zhongrak closed his mouth.