* * *
The rain poured down in a dense, intricate pattern.
It was right after a thunderous roar had echoed across Circling Clouds Peak, where the leaders of the demonic faction and the Radiant Demon Squad had gathered.
Saaa—
Two men, both wearing wide-brimmed straw hats, hid themselves within a bush.
Above them, lush green leaves formed a canopy, while ahead, the village at the base of the mountain was clearly visible.
Despite the rainwater pooling on their brims and dripping down, they remained composed as if they could see everything perfectly.
With peaks towering endlessly behind them, they observed in silence.
"A commotion indeed. The situation, both atop the peak and below, is far from ordinary."
A middle-aged man, with a sword strapped to his waist, spoke. His dry voice was immediately swallowed by the sound of the rain. It was the perfect place for a discreet conversation without wasting energy on sound transmission techniques.
"I wanted to check the top first, to be honest."
The young man beside him grinned.
The small brush and book he held remained untouched by the rain, evidence that it was a sacred artifact imbued with spiritual energy.
"The true nature of the current Radiant Demon Squad's leader has been the talk of the town lately, not just in the Imperial Inspection Bureau, but among those well-versed in state affairs. Rumor has it that the Assistant Governor-General quickly aligned himself upon recognizing his sharp nature, but others claim he's nothing more than a butcher, someone who treats even the local officials like livestock…"
"He's the descendant of the previous Divine Sword Order's leader. That alone makes him a noble man, does it not?"
"Well… Regardless, I never expected to be reporting on Desolate Fortress' black-clad warriors from here. Writing about someone of high status makes my hands itch… but they'll come down soon enough if nothing happens at Circling Clouds Peak, right?"
The young man twirled his brush between his fingers. The middle-aged man, who had been responding nonchalantly, shook his head.
"Don't forget how the eunuch Myung-yu fell from power. Making rash judgments is dangerous."
"Well… I don't intend to insert my own opinions into the report. Considering that he's the grandson of a hero, I'll tread carefully."
"Our duty in the Imperial Inspection Bureau is to report exactly what we see. If you want to live long in the imperial family, only state the facts. That in itself is a privilege we enjoy… The Radiant Demon Squad's leader is a candidate for Desolate Fortress' purple-clad warriors. At this point, personnel appointments are matters of national importance. If you get entangled in this, no matter how prestigious your family is, you could find yourself dragged to the execution grounds without hesitation."
"Oh, come on, would I really be beheaded? Even that eunuch Myung-yu was merely demoted to work as a labor chief…"
"You're being naive. This is different."
"...What?"
"The purple-clad warriors are not just individuals. They are officially recognized by the nation, a virtually omnipotent decisive force. Even Desolate Fortress itself, along with the Imperial Inspection Bureau, the Eastern Depot, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the Five Armies Command, and the Judicial Ministry, all have a say in their appointments. Do you think the life of a mere Imperial Inspection Bureau recorder matters in such affairs? Especially when that Tyrant Hero's grandson could descend upon us at any moment?"
"Ah…"
The Imperial Inspection Bureau—The Imperial Central Bureau of Supervision.
At this moment, the conversation between the Censorate Official and the Recorder remained hidden from the outside world. It was not only the downpour that concealed their presence.
They also had a sacred artifact imbued with the power of concealment—A tightly bound scroll into which the Censorate Official was channeling his inner force.
Only those who had mastered sensory arts to an extreme degree and deliberately scoured the area might barely detect them.
The Recorder let out a sigh.
"Now that I think about it, this is poison in a cup. Hardly something to ease boredom… But still, I can't pretend I didn't see the black-clad warriors right in front of us…"
"Just keep your eyes straight ahead. Watching their every move is part of our duty. The magistrate here seems utterly incompetent. It's a serious problem."
The Censorate Official spoke coldly, his gaze fixed on the path winding between the village and Circling Clouds Peak.
Sasasak—
The distinct sound of footwork techniques, movements as silent as shadows. Small footsteps overlapped without pause.
The scale was massive.
Martial artists of all kinds traversed the long mountain path.
Even at a glance, there were hundreds. Their loud, boisterous voices carried no trace of etiquette or decorum.
"The Wind Blade Sect has come in full force."
"Isn't that the Iron-Heart Blade? I heard he trained under Yeoryung Sect, I wonder how much stronger he's gotten…"
[NOTE - From here on, Yeoryeong Sect will be translated as Yeoryung Sect, please expect further improvisations.]
"I heard high-ranking officials came to watch as well. Best not to mess with their escorts, unless you want a headache."
"Just focus on robbing the merchants."
"Wait a second, isn't that an Imperial Desolate Sword? He must have killed a white-clad warrior to get it, but where…?"
"The blade styles are different, don't accuse him recklessly! Let's just move quietly!"
They chattered among themselves.
There was a man dragging a greatsword on iron chains, another exuding the solitude of a lone wanderer, and a group of several dozen moving in unison, each stepping with identical precision—clear evidence of belonging to the same sect.
The people passing before the Imperial Inspection Bureau officials' eyes were bizarre and diverse.
Golden Wings Sect, Ten Perfections Sect, Pure Demon Alliance.
On top of that, the factions under those three, as well as other demonic faction martial artists, had all gathered.
According to rumors, even warriors who had bowed their heads to Yeoryung and the Tyrant Sword Tribe had entered Sichuan.
The Recorder lowered his head slightly, his face filled with unease.
"The demonic faction, the ambiguous ones, the wandering martial artists… It's not just the main sects, even those hoping to pick up scraps have flocked here. It truly is an age of chaos."
"They plan to wipe out the righteous sects descending from Circling Clouds Peak one by one. This is a Heaven-Spanning Net. With the Golden Wings Sect leading the charge, they must see not only the Radiant Demon Squad's leader but even the sect leaders of Qingcheng and Emei as mere prey."
"With that many people, even a Shaolin master who has perfected the Yijin Sutra would be swallowed by the crowd. At the very least, a dozen Embroidered Uniform Guard squads or the imperial army would be needed…"
"In the current state, where even managing the northern barbarian tribes is a struggle, you speak of the imperial army? The stationed troops in each province are barely enough to maintain public order."
The Censorate Official spoke while glaring at the tail end of the procession.
"Let's hope the local magistrate sent word to Desolate Fortress in time. No matter how elusive martial artists may be, with numbers like that, there should have been enough time to notice something."
"How many officials in Yeoryung haven't taken bribes in gold? If all they ask is for the martial artists' activities to be overlooked, few would refuse, especially with swords pressed to their throats."
"…"
"And with that force, wouldn't even a few Divine Sword Order squads struggle to handle it? It would be fortunate if they weren't wiped out completely."
The Recorder said. The Censorate Official remained silent for a moment.
The worse the famine, the more corrupt officials become, that was the way of the world.
The same applied to Murim. The righteous sects thrived only when the world was abundant.
A hero who distributed food to the common people was nothing compared to the well-fed blades of the Demonic Faction.
This was why many previously neutral martial artists had begun bowing their heads to the demonic faction.
"…By the time they return, my energy will be entirely spent. We need to find a place to hide."
The Censorate Official said.
Well-supplied warriors of Desolate Fortress. Rare government officials in possession of sacred artifacts.
Both were prime targets for plunder. Retribution was no longer a concern. The age of slaughter and annihilation was upon them.
"We should seek shelter in the village and rent a house. A pouch of salt should be enough for ten days' stay."
The Recorder suggested. The Censorate Official sighed.
"What if the demonic faction storms in?"
"They're here to fight the Radiant Demon Squad's leader and the Nine Great Sects. The houses will remain where they are, so there's no reason to waste energy attacking them first. If fools who don't grasp this show up, we can deal with them."
"That's true."
Just as they were about to move—
"Master! Get a hold of yourself!"
A desperate cry rang out from afar.
The aura accompanying it was just as powerful as the group of demonic faction warriors that had just passed.
The Censorate Official and Recorder froze on the spot.
"The Radiant Demon Squad's leader is not here! You may open your eyes now!"
"The leader of Bonggong speaks strangely. It almost sounds as if the leader of the Ten Perfection Sect fears the Radiant Demon Squad's leader. A single defeat can simply be avenged…"
"To awaken the Turtle Breath Technique of our sect, this is necessary! The energy must surge all the way to the Baihui Acupoint! I stepped away for a moment to command the subordinates, and now I return to this disaster! General! General!"
Hearing those words, a chill ran down the Recorder's spine.
Turtle Breath Technique.
A martial art that slows breathing and heart rate, even concealing true energy. It was never originally an assassination technique—it originated from warfare between nations.
Defeated generals used it to survive. By lying among corpses and activating the Turtle Breath Technique, they could convincingly feign death.
The leader of the Ten Perfection Sect had been defeated by the Radiant Demon Squad's leader.
And he had survived by pretending to be dead.
"Sect Leader! You may rest easy now! It is not that terrifying Radiant Demon Squad's leader, but rather the warriors of our sect who are here! You are no coward, are you? It is not the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader that you should fear even in your dreams, but my warm hands of that are right here with you!"
"Kuhh…!"
At last, the sound of breath being released echoed. The harsh inhalation and exhalation were unmistakable to the Imperial Inspection Bureau officials.
There was no doubt whose breath it was.
"The leader of the Ten Perfection Sect…!"
It was the very lifeblood of the demonic faction.
His innate fortune and even his pre-natal energy were entirely different.
At the peak of the demonic faction, surviving countless battlefields inevitably led to mastery in the art of staying alive.
The Recorder whipped his head toward the Censorate Official.
"Isn't this a disaster?! If the leader of the Ten Perfection Sect, who just separated from the group heading for Circling Clouds Peak, takes command of the demonic faction warriors…"
"It is a disaster indeed."
The Censorate Official responded curtly. He was already gazing blankly over the Recorder's shoulder.
"Did you even hear me properly? I said—"
"The world has gathered. The very pillars that upheld the order of this nation."
"…What?"
"The Eastern Depot claimed that the Divine Sword Order's leader has finally committed treason…"
Kugugung—!
A sudden gust of wind.
A fleeting moment. It felt as though it had descended from a distant sky, yet its crushing weight passed over the Recorder's head.
It was as if a dozen massive typhoons were colliding at once.
The Recorder was born into an especially prestigious lineage in Beijing, trained in the Imperial Inspection Bureau's secret sight arts since childhood.
As he lifted his head, he saw black streaks trailing like the tails of comets.
They were incredibly far away, leaping across mountain ranges and using clouds as stepping stones like the Great Sage himself.
Though they appeared tiny due to the vast distance, it seemed they would arrive soon.
"This is dangerous."
The Censorate Official muttered.
"…What?"
"That peak cannot become the battlefield of the martial world. Whether it is the Radiant Demon Squad's leader or the leaders of the Nine Great Sects, one of them must descend. If they do not, the common people who climbed Mount Meishan will be swept away."
The Censorate Official spoke slowly, as if talking to himself.
"But who would willingly walk alone into the Heaven-Spanning Net, where no fewer than three absolute masters await?"
At that moment—
Right in the middle of the village they had been observing.
Spat! Jjeoeeeeeeong—!
Two figures suddenly distorted into view, appearing in the open space surrounded by houses.
Between them, in an instant, hundreds of beams of light flickered in and out of existence.
Each strand of released light carried such an immense force that even the residual energy, which should have burst outward, was instead compressed into a storm and embedded into their opponent. The reverberations shook the ground.
The village had been silent as death.
A small child, who had secretly slipped outside to play on a swing, gaped with an open mouth.
A young Taoist man with long ears gritted his teeth, standing protectively in front of the child.
Twin Walls Sword Lord, Chung Su Jin-in.
He was the leader of Qingcheng Sect. He had been pursuing the leader of the Pure Demon Alliance when he detected the approach of the Golden Wings Sect's leader. It was a civilian area. He had no choice but to descend.
"Golden Wings Sect's leader! Let's take this fight elsewhere!"
A short woman tilted her head slightly, as if to ask, 'Why?'
"Step aside. There's a sacred artifact buried behind you."
A dazzling voice spilled from her lips, treating the new Qingcheng Sect's leader as a mere child.
Saaa—
Her jet-black hair, just long enough to touch the nape of her neck, swayed leisurely even in the midst of Chung Su's sword aura.
The jade flask in her hand exuded a sweet aroma as it met the sword winds.
Only her right hand moved, faint and blurred.
Her slender shoulders lifted and fell, as if swaying to the rhythm of a melody. An aura of transcendence surrounded her.
The difference in power was evident.
Chung Su, who had been shielding the child behind him, quickly found himself at a disadvantage.
The blue and red sword trajectories he had been unleashing wavered violently, and with a resounding jjeojeojeong, they shattered in all directions.
Hwaaah—!
As Chung Su staggered back, vomiting blood—
The Golden Wings Sect's leader, who had been pressing down on his crown with her palm, suddenly tilted her waist sharply to the side. Like a village girl peeking curiously over an adult's waist.
She parted her lips.
"Hello."
"..."
"I'm on the peak. I was on my way up."
The Golden Wings Sect's leader slowly lowered her arm.
The long, orange sleeves of her robe brushed the ground with a soft whisper.
Jeobeok.
A breathtakingly handsome young man approached, grasping a sword shimmering under the flickering sunlight.
The hem of his pitch-black robe barely made a sound as it grazed the swing that Chung Su had been guarding.
At that moment, the very air began to distort, collapsing inward like tangled threads.
"Ooh…?"
The child who had been lying behind the swing gently floated into the air and drifted backward.
The young man's presence exuded a firm yet gentle breeze, carrying the child away from the danger zone.
Among the few remaining villagers who had not fled, someone grabbed the child and bolted in terror.
Saaaak—
Jung Yeonshin flicked his Divine Sword, Yurei, once.
"I enjoyed the duel. What's next? Three consecutive wins?"
The Golden Wings Sect's leader asked expressionlessly.
Her tone was strange. It felt as though she was merely playing a game.
Much like when the Flood Dragon Formation demanded its sacrificial offering.
"Assassination."
Jung Yeonshin answered quietly.