At that moment, the sound of fluttering fabric brushed through the air.
A straight descent, carrying the unique, rhythmic energy waves of lightness skill. From the opposite hill, it was a single bound to the clearing where Jung Yeonshin stood.
Tap.
A light footstep landed.
White Cat, Shin So-bin. The ends of her long, braided hair lifted slightly in the countercurrent of her descent before settling down.
It seemed she had been passing the time by twisting her hair while surveying the surroundings.
"Leader, it looks fine now."
"Thank you."
Jung Yeonshin faintly smiled.
Even though he had said he was fine, his first disciple had insisted on standing guard, climbing up the hill. A seemingly reckless temperament, yet polished with sharp wit, honed over the years.
Even when Jung Yeonshin entered the enemy ranks, she alone scouted the retreat route from the outside.
All he ever taught her was martial arts, yet Shin So-bin, as if proving her noble lineage, grew on her own. She was always someone who could be entrusted with reconnaissance.
Swoosh.
Shin So-bin rested both knees on the ground and leaned slightly forward. A playful glint flashed in her eyes as she looked up at her leader.
"You really are thankful, right? You didn't think it was unnecessary, did you?"
"..."
"Leader, martial arts mnemonics never get blocked like this, you know."
"They do, when there's no inspiration."
Jung Yeonshin had long realized one of his own qualities, through those who sought to slander his nature.
The ability to dismiss slander indifferently, to state his case calmly.
But such things never worked on the high-ranking masters of the Radiant Demon Squad.
Shin So-bin straightened her posture.
"I heard the Ma Clan and the Shin Clan have never gotten along despite their hundred-year bond, and now I think I understand why."
She swept her hair back over her shoulder and smiled.
Then, clasping her hands behind her back with exaggerated formality, she began to look around like a high-ranking official.
"I did live in Yangyang for quite some time, after all. When you become the Divine Sword Order's leader someday, there'll be times when you have to use empty words. Like when you defeat Uncle Yong and have to visit the imperial family over the leader's position, or when you have to rally the subordinates before the Nine Great Sects' duel at Mount Hua..."
She counted each scenario on her fingers like a fortune-teller, then suddenly froze.
The Seventh Apostle's eyes were open.
At some point, she had turned toward them, lying on her side.
Eyes of a deep crimson hue stood out against the backdrop of the setting sun as she gazed at Jung Yeonshin.
Her cheek was slightly pressed against the ground, lifting it slightly, but the opposite side of her face, where the jawline descended, remained starkly white under the golden twilight.
Porcelain-like, smooth skin—a testament to her bloodline and noble birth.
'A Blood Demon…!'
A chill ran down Shin So-bin's spine.
Even with her leader by her side, it was inevitable.
The youngest among the Apostles. A direct blood descendant, closest to the heir of the Blood Flame Cult leader.
The high-ranking factions of the martial world coveted the Seventh Apostle, even at great cost.
There were no pleasant rumors about the Blood Demons, and Shin So-bin, who had practically grown up among the upper echelons of the martial world, had always feared them.
Yet the Radiant Demon Squad's leader spoke with an untroubled expression.
"I knew you'd be awake."
"…Taesa."
The Seventh Apostle lifted her body to the side.
Her jet-black hair cascaded down her shoulders like silk.
The scattered bloodstains on her body released a faint, smoky mist as they vanished, and the crimson robe of the Pure Blood Garment regained its smooth and vivid luster.
It was an incredibly delicate manifestation of Three Samadhi True Fire, originating from Blood Arts.
Jung Yeonshin glanced at her before shifting his gaze slightly away.
"You, you used a strange mnemonic…"
"My mnemonic is strange? What kind of flea said that nonsense?"
Her lips quivered, genuinely angry.
Her voice remained as seductive as when they first met, yet an unsteady flow of energy seeped out of her body, pushing against the dirt beneath her.
"No one."
Jung Yeonshin cut his words short. That seemed to be enough.
A faint smirk lifted the corners of the Seventh Apostle's lips.
"Of course. It's obviously a martial art tailored for me. I still have a few lines of the mnemonic left, but it already feels intoxicating. You, you know my meridians too well..."
"I checked your pulse."
He took her into his sight once more. Something about the sensation against his skin felt odd.
She would look straight at him, then immediately avert her gaze, only to glance back again, her demeanor seemed far from lucid. Her rambling words were another sign.
"The Namgoong brat, where did he go? Weren't you traveling for the duel with the Namgoong Clan together? Namgoong and Desolate Fortress, I mean."
"…He needs time."
Her Energy Deviation hadn't fully subsided yet.
Jung Yeonshin murmured to himself.
It was said that when turbulent internal energy surged to the head, it could distort one's reasoning.
Before meeting Azure Qilin Namgoong Se-jin, Jung Yeonshin had exchanged techniques and mnemonics with the Seventh Apostle.
At this moment, her consciousness seemed to remain in that time.
Only the Mara Blood Arts, which Jung Yeonshin had developed, could cure her Energy Deviation.
After staring at the Seventh Apostle for a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice deliberately slow.
"Don't you have a sacred artifact? The enchanted cloth that alters perception of energy and physique when covering the eyes."
In that instant, her crimson demon eyes were fully exposed.
"How did you know? Even I found it odd that the Blood-Preserving Silk Veil was on me. This is a sacred relic of the Cult Leader, you know."
"Take it out and use it. We're heading to our true selves."
"With you? Me...?"
There was no sign of refusal.
The Seventh Apostle merely blinked, as if lost in a dream, filling her ruby-like retinas with the image of Jung Yeonshin as a young man, gazing at him blankly for a moment…
Suddenly, the young man's head tilted slightly to the side.
"If it's before my duel with the Namgoong Clan, I should look strange to you…"
At that moment, Jung Yeonshin couldn't finish his murmur.
A thunderous roar, like the heavens splitting apart, erupted.
Circular shockwaves rippled through the distant sky, and from within them, a white-tinged crimson light descended like a bolt of lightning.
Step.
A man clad in a pink long robe stepped into the center of the clearing.
The powerful counterforce from his mastery of Lightness Skill of Empty Void surged above his low footstep.
Even the rebound of his technique transferred to the air, a state of mastery beyond reach.
Soon after, utilizing the profound mystery of Void Grasp, three wild boars, caught mid-flight, crashed down in a heap.
Tyrant Hero Ma Yeonjeok smiled at his grandson.
"I merely watched over you, as you seemed to lack leisure."
"Grandfather."
"It seems things have settled now."
He cast a glance at the Seventh Apostle before speaking. For a moment, her lips parted as if to say Grandfather.
At the same time, Ma Yeonjeok's eyebrows twitched sharply, but he immediately turned to Jung Yeonshin. His time was limited.
"I haven't been given much time, so today, I will act as your grandfather without shame."
* * *
The grandfather and grandson moved to another place.
They sat side by side atop a rocky hill bathed in faint moonlight, gazing at the dark ridge together.
"Your martial arts have grown immensely."
Ma Yeonjeok spoke.
"I want to tell you in advance what you will soon come to know. The Lord is likely absent for this very reason, so I must at least give you some insight to ease my mind."
"What is it that I will come to know?"
"There are many things you will encounter and have to resolve in the Purple Domain. The world is always short on capable hands. The Lord's departure is also related to that."
"I do not understand."
"Do you know the first and third verses of the Great Ming Chronicles?"
Jung Yeonshin turned to glance at his grandfather's profile for a moment, then recited the passage without further question.
It was a phrase he had heard before, even before the Zhongnan Sect and Tyrant Sword Tribe arrived at Jung Manor.
"From the Gate of Heaven, those with long ears and small stature returned, destroying the wicked yuan and founding the Great Ming alongside Taizu."
"And the first and eighth verses?"
"A great demon pursued the brethren, but the gate was shut in time, ensuring its annihilation."
"Engrave it in your mind. The martial world you will face as a purple rank is close to a demon's Lair. You may even see a Flood Dragon with your own eyes."
A Demon's Lair. A cave where demons lurk.
It didn't sound like an empty tale.
It hinted at where his grandfather had been and what he had been doing all this time.
The sheer breadth of his movements across the Martial World of the Other Realm could be roughly estimated.
"This feels like grasping at clouds. Can you tell me more in detail…?"
"You will hear it in full once you reach your true nature. More than that, I want to speak about the necessity of further advancing your martial prowess. Though your martial skills have already grown to an unbelievable extent."
"Are you going to teach me?"
"If you have questions, ask anything. With your current senses, you must have countless topics of inquiry."
Ma Yeonjeok's voice was gentle.
Jung Yeonshin spoke immediately.
"I feel like I am on the verge of grasping Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown, so now, I am curious about Five Energies Returning to Origin. I once heard from my uncle that it was an absolute realm. The studies of those considered invincible in the world must be incredibly profound, mustn't they?"
"Five Energies Returning to Origin, you say?"
Ma Yeonjeok burst into hearty laughter.
"No such realm exists."
"…What?"
"It's just…"
For a moment, Jung Yeonshin involuntarily looked up at the sky, forgetting his manners.
The sensation that the entire surroundings had suddenly brightened was no illusion.
All the stars in his vision, those scattered sparsely across the sky, began to grow larger.
Even those undimmed by the moonlight were drawn downward by his grandfather's gesture.
He doubted his own eyes.
Slowly, threads of whitish radiance curved as they converged toward the grandfather and grandson.
The brilliance was dazzling.
Hundreds of comet tails cascaded down like a dream, evoking the image of heaven and earth reversing.
The luminous streaks of light etched patterns into the air, forming a spectacle akin to a mandala.
"Can you manifest a lifetime's worth of cultivated martial arts through a single technique?"
His grandfather continued, his tone serene.
"With that one technique, the realm of absolute supremacy is determined. That is where the paths of purple and black diverge."
"..."
"Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown is merely a state necessary for manifesting the martial arts within your mind into your body."
Jung Yeonshin suddenly realized.
The spectacle unfolding in the sky was nothing more than an illusion.
It was like an Illusory Sword reaching its peak and splitting into dozens of blades.
Not some mystical spell, but harmony crafted by his grandfather's martial arts.
He had twisted the light-filled void itself with sheer, overwhelming force.
It was the principle of an all-conquering martial art, utterly beyond the realm of common sense.
Perhaps the rumors about the Heavenly Extreme Sect's leader cleaving through providence itself among the Thirteen Celestial Lords were not an exaggeration after all.
'This isn't a martial arts mnemonic.'
He thought.
'He has manifested enlightenment outside his own body.'
Jung Yeonshin recalled the finishing strike of Mount Hua Sect's leader.
A technique that seemed to use the horizon, bathed in the setting sun, as a blade itself.
Of all the supreme masters he had seen wield their techniques, that had been the most dazzling and mysterious.
Yet, his grandfather's effortless gesture surpassed even that.
"That bastard from the Murong Clan had it too."
Ma Yeonjeok muttered abruptly, as if spitting out something distasteful, as if mentioning such filth irked him.
Jung Yeonshin's mind immediately recalled it.
Heaven-Piercing Radiant Spear.
A single thrust from Murong Clan's leader that carried both sword and fist intent.
Back then, Jung Yeonshin had failed to react. He had exposed his stomach helplessly.
"Nine Lives Finishing Strike…"
The words escaped his lips unconsciously.
Ma Yeonjeok laughed.
"How straightforward. Yes, Nine Lives Finishing Strike at its peak would indeed be called supreme. That degenerate Zhuge bastard replaced it with spells, formations, and artifacts. Meanwhile, that Murong brat could unleash it on his own."
"Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown is merely a stepping stone."
"Once you attain the state of uniting Essence, Energy, and Spirit, your thoughts will start to merge with your martial arts. Eventually, you will be able to unify all the techniques you have honed into a single move.
Those who dare to speak of the Purple Realm call it Five Energies Returning to Origin, or Surpassing Limits Martial Arts."
"Surpassing Limits Martial Arts."
Jung Yeonshin repeated the words calmly.
It meant transcending the boundaries of all martial arts.
Suddenly, Ma Yeonjeok furrowed his brows.
"Thanks to you, I have reversed aging, and my enlightenment has taken a new direction. I've ended up using your absurd name as my martial realization."
Smoke Extinction.
The smoke that rises from what remains after burning.
Jung Yeonshin didn't bother asking for its name.
It felt too awkward to do so.
Then, Ma Yeonjeok's expression shifted, breaking into a satisfied smile.
"You have slain both the Zhuge Clan's leader and the Murong Clan's leader without even reaching such a stage. Compared to you, the tyrannical path I walked when I entered the purple rank at thirty is laughable. With that in mind."
He removed his long robe and handed it to his grandson.
The very garment that symbolized the Tyrant Hero of Desolate Fortress was being passed on.
An event that would shake the martial world to its core.
"I would like you to wear this. At one time, this robe sent tremors through the martial world."
"…I do not have the confidence to walk the same path as you, Grandfather. My nature is not as resolute…"
Jung Yeonshin gazed silently at the brilliant pink fabric, then, without a word, returned the robe to his grandfather.
To Ma Yeonjeok's eyes, it was the perfect display of tyrannical grace.