Shockwaves burst through the air multiple times.
Woo-woong—
The dark arrow trembled violently under the foot of the uninvited guest. Despite the pressure from above, it could not move forward.
A dark energy wave spread out in concentric circles. It was a strange phenomenon.
The Young Lord of the Dark Night War released the bowstring the moment he precisely gauged the enemy's presence.
The Swift Phoenix Pursuing the Sun Bow Technique of the Dark Night War martial lineage was a traditional martial art that did not allow for shortcuts in its mastery. Unlike many of the Thirteen Celestial Demons' tyrannical techniques, it was a discipline of patience.
Releasing a single arrow itself was an extraordinarily meticulous form.
'How did he move…?'
The Young Lord's eyes scanned the uninvited guest.
Not only was the point of impact predetermined, but even the exact moment of the hit had been foreseen.
The fact that the arrow landed beneath his foot, rather than his body or legs, was proof that his movement technique had momentarily performed a bizarre harmony.
Had his movements distorted time itself?
The Young Lord shook his head inwardly. The man was neither the Abbot of Shaolin nor the leader of the Heavenly Extreme Sect.
Having witnessed those who had become exalted through martial prowess from a young age, he could tell. In terms of age, the intruder felt significantly younger.
Then, it happened.
The dark arrow, still beneath the young man's foot, shuddered intensely. Then, it slowly tilted vertically before piercing straight through the marble floor.
Bang!
The ornate feathers decorating the fletching quivered violently.
In that instant, the faded scion of a noble clan realized the reason why the uninvited guest had momentarily trapped the arrow beneath his leg's energy waves.
He had been savoring the Arrow Force of the Bow Strike as if tasting a dish.
It was as if he had analyzed every nuance and structure of the internal energy carried through the arrow shaft with his martial perception.
What conclusion had he reached?
A strange thrill ran down the Young Lord's spine. Slowly, he spoke.
"There is no need to observe formalities when facing the annihilation of your clan."
"..."
The young man, who had silently landed, said nothing in response. Instead, he calmly looked around.
Dust hung thick in the air, and the sunlight filtering through bathed his features in a dreamlike glow. Just like his previous movements, his presence blurred the boundary between dreams and reality.
The Young Lord hesitated for a moment. This was not the face he had envisioned before releasing his arrow.
Then—
A subordinate, who had been readying another arrow, shouted in a low voice.
"You ignorant fool! No matter how hostile our sects may be, one must still observe proper conduct! Do you even realize that you are nothing more than a lawless rogue?!"
The Dark Night War was a grand sect that served the true heirs of a fading noble lineage. As the right hand of the Young Lord, the subordinate was akin to a trusted confidant of the noble scion.
He was of a status that required equal mastery of both martial and scholarly arts. Externally, he frequently conveyed his lord's words.
Furthermore, he was skilled in Persuasive Martial Arts, a technique that imbued speech with weight, compelling the listener into contemplation.
This allowed the Young Lord, who might be momentarily distracted by battle, to gain time to ready another arrow.
As the subordinate finished speaking and glanced at the Young Lord for a signal—
Crack—!
The Young Lord's bow shattered.
A gust of wind had shot forth from the intruder's index finger.
The subordinate blankly stared at the shards of wood rising like dust. A terrifying sense of self-certainty.
He left no room for doubt in his own disposition, an extreme form of tyranny.
Either way, it was oppressive.
Whether he was fully aware of his own lawlessness, or whether he simply refused to acknowledge it.
'Persuasive Martial Arts will hardly affect him…!'
Even beyond that, his martial prowess was the real problem.
The Finger Wind that had just shattered the bow had been as fast as a lightning bolt. The sheer disparity in internal energy release speed was overwhelming.
The Young Lord shook his head at the subordinate.
"There is an unmistakable air of supreme footwork around him. He has already fixed us within his sight. Do not act recklessly."
"…That bird."
The man who had been quietly watching them—Jung Yeonshin—spoke.
"Is it the Dreadfeather Raven?"
The bird perched on the Young Lord's shoulder flapped its wings slightly. Several gray feathers drifted to the floor.
It resembled a small crane, except for the different hue of its feathers.
"Ah."
A faint smirk formed on the Young Lord's lips.
"So that was your goal."
"I hear it is used to send letters to the Dark Night War's leader."
Jung Yeonshin's clear gaze locked onto the Young Lord. A look that left no room for questions like 'Do you really think I will simply let you keep it?'.
The Young Lord, staring at him as one would a subordinate, swallowed dryly.
'He is a swordsman, yet…'
The breadth of his swordsmanship was unfathomable. The range of his techniques seemed to extend not only to the subordinate behind him but even beyond the entire hall.
Unmeasurable.
It was a sensation reminiscent of past encounters with renowned swordsmen whose titles were known throughout the world.
Swordsmen who cleaved mountains, wielded peerless sword arts, and stepped like illusions.
Even among the Thirteen Celestial Demons, the Young Lord's martial prowess and innate talent were considered exceptional.
But now, that hardly mattered.
An instinctual feeling told him—if he so much as raised a hand to snap the Dreadfeather Raven's neck, his own head would be sent flying.
Despite the seven-zhang distance between them.
The noble scion barely managed to speak.
"Who are you?"
"The Radiant Demon Squad's leader of Desolate Fortress."
Jung Yeonshin answered slowly.
The Young Lord's eyes slightly widened.
"Your martial prowess exceeds rumors. Your presence and nature are also… striking."
"Your sight arts are well-trained."
"To receive praise from a lowly man is an odd feeling. So, you have come for the Dreadfeather Raven? If I hand it over peacefully, will you leave?"
The Young Lord inquired.
His subordinate snapped his head toward him in shock.
To deliver letters directly to the Dark Night War's leader, one had to use the Dreadfeather Raven. It was both a treasured mystical beast and the sect's sacred relic.
Only those of direct descent from the sect leader, possessing both elite martial skills and noble lineage, could command it.
Once tamed, the Dreadfeather Raven could find its master no matter where they were.
It was incomparable to ordinary carrier birds, which were easily lost or preyed upon by raptors.
"The casualties among the disciples are great. The land trembles with the aftermath of battle. Still, I suppose I should be thankful that, despite the presence of the noble clans, the flora has been left untouched."
The Young Lord spoke gently.
His subordinate bowed his head.
"You misunderstand."
Jung Yeonshin's voice cut in.
At that moment, he was sensing the spiritual link between the Dreadfeather Raven and the Young Lord.
A binding sorcery of the noble clans. If the Young Lord's head were to be severed, the bird would die as well.
"A misunderstanding?"
"You are plundering criminals. Even if you escape execution here, you will not evade pursuit."
Jung Yeonshin stated. He felt nothing from the Young Lord's words. He had seen too many starving souls outside these walls.
Famine had struck the land with a devastation far beyond the chaos of the black ranks gathering. And yet, the armed noble clans, masquerading as Murim sects, had fattened themselves through relentless pillaging.
The Dark Night War was no exception.
"The Desolate Fortress has finally arrived."
The Young Lord slowly stroked his broken bow. A movement filled with eerie grace.
Rumble—!
A deafening roar grew closer. The relentless tremors shook the great hall. Upheaval had come for the Thirteen Celestial Demons.
Twelve shades of darkness. And the swordsman standing before them.
Jung Yeonshin, his face expressionless, was urging surrender. The pressure was immense.
In the end, the Young Lord dropped the broken bow from his hand.
"Proceed with the arrests first."
* * *
Rumors spread like a storm.
The Great Battle of Circling Clouds Peak in Sichuan—its events and outcome sent shockwaves throughout the martial world. Some individuals found their names suddenly more widely known, to the extent of becoming targets.
The Lightning Genius' lineage was a prime example.
"It's already over! We're too late!"
A girl in white martial robes shouted in frustration. Her long braided hair swayed atop a galloping horse.
She was White Cat Shin So-bin.
A dry forest stretched along both sides of the official road.
At the front, Heon Wonchang, wearing a hero's headband, shook his head.
"What could we have done? Our leader's movement technique is too fast. Compared to him, we're just riding horses."
"It's because those useless ones in blue and white held us back."
A man, lazily draping a deep blue robe over his shoulders like a cloak, sneered.
It was the Lazy Flame Dragon of the Radiant Demon Squad. A faint shadow lingered under his eyes.
Shin So-bin's gaze sharpened.
"What did you just say?"
"Thanks to Energy Accumulation, that is. But this young master's footwork isn't too far behind the leader's. Had I set out first, I'd have arrived long ago."
"You're unbelievable. Is speed the only thing that matters?"
"The tongue of an amateur is long."
"If that's the case, I would have met the leader first. Unlike a drunkard and opium addict wasting his life, the top disciple of the Lightning Genius' lineage would have moved far more diligently."
"Top disciple...? Have you even entered the Flame River?"
"I have no interest in offshoot martial arts."
"Fluent as flowing water. The next Sacred Warrior stands before us."
Heon Wonchang simply chuckled without interrupting.
Jung Yeonshin's martial arts were about exchanging brief encounters of ultimate insight.
Regardless of what a young fool or a debauched addict had to say, the one who wielded the Radiant Arts Secret to its fullest was already decided.
"I wonder if news of the leader has reached the main stronghold. It's been about a week since we last heard anything, so the storm must have reached Yangyang by now..."
"I wish I could split myself in two."
"Why?"
"I have to see the Elder Council's leader's face. I still can't believe it…!"
"Right now, the main stronghold is surely in an uproar. The black ranks gathering was exhilarating beyond belief, but it was still sheer madness."
Their journey did not slow.
At times, their descent southward was briefly delayed, martial experts with sharp information networks, keen insight, and immense courage frequently challenged them.
"Desolate Fortress, are you the Radiant Demon Squad?"
"And if I am?"
"Judging by your appearance, you must be the disgrace of the Hwangbo Clan. I have no business with you. Step aside."
"...What?"
"Someone trained in the Lightning Genius' lineage should step forward. I must witness the martial arts that defeated the Phoenix of the Golden Wings Sect."
This time was no different.
A faint smirk curved on Lazy Flame Dragon's lips. The shadows beneath his eyes deepened slightly, as if he could collapse into a coffin at any moment.
Yet, in contrast, a burning aura surged from his entire being, stirring his robes like a wildfire.
"...It seems I am unworthy. My apologies for the offense."
The swordsman, his face obscured by a bamboo hat, clasped his hands in a martial salute and stepped back.
It was an encounter that had repeated itself several times.
The land was vast, and it contained all kinds of people. Even those well-versed in rumors rarely understood their own place.
The fact that they were only a trio contributed to it.
The intermediate masters of the Radiant Demon Squad, including Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo, had abruptly departed for Beijing after receiving a letter from an imperial inspector.
That had been after confirming Jung Yeonshin's safety.
Shin So-bin furrowed her brows.
"Why don't we chase them down and set an example? This is happening too often."
"Are you suggesting an execution?"
A foreign voice naturally entered the conversation.
"…!"
The group instinctively looked up.
A strikingly handsome man sat casually on a tree branch, exuding no presence whatsoever—not even the slightest ripple of energy.
Any martial expert with discernment would recognize it—the realm of Complete Concealment.
Surprise flickered across Shin So-bin and Heon Wonchang's faces. Not because of the man's unfathomable level, but because of his face.
His features bore an astonishing resemblance to Lazy Flame Dragon.
The man grinned.
"I owed the Radiant Demon Squad's leader a favor from the Flood Dragon Formation. And now, I see even the younger generation has been properly trained. How impressive."
"…Who are you?"
Lazy Flame Dragon asked blankly.
"I came to relay a message from your leader, and to see my grandson's face."
It was Divine Hand King Hwangbo Gon.
* * *
The Headquarters of the Dark Night War.
The Dark Current Squad's leader had remained in the gray forest.
To bind those without martial training in rope and deliver them to the authorities.
It was not yet over.
Many martial artists had also been deployed to evacuate the commoners of the faded noble clan.
They were positioned on the opposite side of the entrance.
Similarly, they were blocked by an invisible formation. It had withstood the repeated assaults of several squad leaders. It seemed that every ounce of the sect's mystical relics had been poured into it.
"Lightning Genius, would you like to try? Breaking through is just a matter of time."
"I will first sever the connection between the Dreadfeather Raven and the Young Lord. The safety of the leader comes first."
"I'll circle around for now."
Meanwhile, the Young Lord remained silent.
With half-lidded eyes, he endured even the Muscle-Tearing and Bone-Dislocating Technique of the Dragon-Stepping Squad's leader.
Jung Yeonshin, already knowing the answer, asked anyway.
"Why go this far?"
"A lowly thing like you would not understand."
The Young Lord spoke dispassionately.
Then, the forest in which they stood, just outside the hall…
Fwaaah—!
Suddenly, the sky split open from both sides. A vast flood of sunlight poured in. The formation had been completely torn apart from behind.
"This must be the Dark Night War."
"It would seem so."
An aged woman's voice.
A young man's voice.
Silhouetted against the sunlight, the two figures descended. Their antique monk robes and scholar's coats billowed in the wind.
The most revered figures in the martial world. An immense energy spread across the air, pressing down.
Some of the black ranks widened their eyes in shock.
"I had been waiting for you to finish your recovery… I did not expect you to depart so soon."
"I considered the legacy of Path of Chivalry and the feats accomplished at the Great Battle of Circling Clouds Peak. You are indeed the rightful heir of the Pact of Mount Hua."
Emei and Qingcheng.
The leaders of the Nine Great Sects descended before Jung Yeonshin with Void-Striding Movement Arts.