"Bingbong. But the Tang clan is the most closed-off organization under heaven. How could even the Heavenly Demon Sword have planted spies inside their walls?"
"Who knows? What if the Tang clan also fell victim to Chasi Hwanhon's stratagem, with corpses smuggled in?"
"We were at Geomhyang Hall until the night before last. Up until then, the Tang clan hadn't clashed with the demonic cult—not a single sign of it."
"That may be true… but when the opponent is the Heavenly Demon Sword, who knows what kind of sinister scheme he's laid?"
Pyeong-u Jong read the fear in her eyes. Not long ago, her pride had soared higher than the heavens, but now it had vanished without a trace. All that remained was a fragile woman trembling before the Heavenly Demon Sword.
He swallowed a sigh.
For one who had known nothing but triumph, the blow was all the greater. Perhaps it was similar to the crushing despair the Invincible Sword Han Chugwang suffered after his duel with the Black Wolf Lord.
"Bingbong. All the more reason to keep your wits about you."
"Pyeong so-hyeop, I… I truly don't know what to do. My mind is blank. If the Tang clan falls too, then I… I'm finished. The whole world will mock me."
At that moment, Pyeong-u Jong's eyes turned cold, and anger welled up across his face.
Slap!
His hand struck Murong Lin's cheek.
She opened her eyes wide in shock, glaring at him.
"Pyeong so-hyeop! H-how dare you! What are you doing?!"
"Right now! Over there!"
Pyeong-u Jong raised his hand and pointed toward Mount Cheongseong.
"Over there, the disciples of Cheongseong are fighting and dying! And who knows how many more warriors will perish in the days ahead. Yet all you can think about is your petty pride?"
"..."
"We lived because the Heavenly Demon Sword deemed us unworthy of killing. But if you continue like this… then isn't he right about us?"
Rage blazed in Pyeong-u Jong's eyes.
"Bingbong. We endured humiliation to survive. Then we must rise again. We must vow never to be trampled again. We must think of avenging the fallen of Cheongseong! If we collapse here, then truly we are nothing but dogs. Even as Cheongseong's disciples die right now…"
He collapsed to the ground with a thud. Bowing his head, tears streamed down from his eyes.
"It is miserable, yet I endure. So why do you make it even more miserable? I'll admit—I once held pride, even ambition to match the Heavenly Demon Sword. But the moment I saw him, that pride was shattered. I realized… he is not an opponent I can face."
Murong Lin could not reply, only staring down at him. He struck the ground with his fist and shouted:
"But even a pitiful man like me must do something to stop him! To ensure the sacrifice of the Cheongseong disciples is not in vain. We must let the world know how terrifying the Heavenly Demon Sword is, and unite the righteous sects. That is the reason I continue this shameful life. And you—are you really worrying only about your own reputation?"
Murong Lin clenched her teeth. She turned to look back at the mountain gate of Cheongseong, which they had just escaped. Then she lifted her gaze higher.
Toward the woods that hid Wolseong Lake.
By now, the battle would already have begun there.
She lifted her gaze further still, up into the sky.
The burning sunlight seared her eyes. Shame washed over her like a tidal wave.
The Heavenly Demon Sword had reduced her to such a wretched creature.
No—that wasn't it.
This was her true self all along.
She had thought herself brilliant only because others had placed her on a pedestal. The pretentious life she had lived now felt hollow and disgraceful.
Lowering her head, Murong Lin looked at Pyeong-u Jong, trembling with suppressed fury.
He was a good man.
She had always believed that the promising youths of the righteous sects should be ambitious. That a life without ambition was a dead life. But Pyeong-u Jong had cast away power and ambition, roaming the world freely. She had scorned him for it.
Had it not been for his Hebei Pyeong Clan background, she might never have associated with him at all.
But now, she realized her own judgment had been pathetic.
What use was memorizing countless books?
If one could not recognize the worth of people, all knowledge was meaningless.
She had failed to see the pure fire within Haweol Pyeong-u Jong. She had doubted Ryu Yeong, the Scholar she had never even met. She had dismissed the Heavenly Demon Sword as a green general inflated by the cult's boasts.
And all of it had sprung from her hollow arrogance.
"I'm sorry, Pyeong so-hyeop."
Pyeong-u Jong lifted his head to look at her.
"Bingbong…"
"I… I've lived wrongly."
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
His lips trembled. The Bingbong of the martial world—crying before him.
He bit his lip, stood, and seized her shoulders firmly.
"Let's return quickly. We must assess the Tang clan's situation. And we must stop at Geomhyang Hall to learn more of the Scholar. We… have much to do."
Murong Lin lowered her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. When she raised her face again, Pyeong-u Jong flinched.
She had changed.
Her nickname carried the character for "ice," for her usual coldness. But now she looked colder still, as though she had turned into ice itself. She was filled with venom.
"Thank you, Pyeong so-hyeop."
At least, her voice carried a breeze of warmth.
"I… don't deserve thanks."
"I want to remain your companion for a long time. Stay by my side, teach me, enlighten me."
Pyeong-u Jong was genuinely flustered. What could he possibly teach a genius like Bingbong?
"Bingbong, what are you saying? If anything, it is I who—"
She cut him off, striding forward.
"Let's go. You're right—we have much to do."
"Yes, Bingbong."
"We cannot let Sichuan's martial world fall so easily. And I will never, ever lose to the Scholar. I will make the Heavenly Demon Sword regret sparing my life—regret it bitterly."
"Also, Senior Brother Cheonghyeon, Monk Cheongu, and all disciples under twenty years of age—withdraw."
Cheonghyeon Jin-in cried out in fury.
"Headmaster! That cannot be!"
Na Hanmin also shouted.
"Cheongseong will fight to the end. We will not give up."
Cheongu Yulsa and the first-generation disciples dropped to one knee and shook their heads.
"We will fight together."
Headmaster Jang Un looked over them and spoke in a grave voice.
"As Headmaster, this is my final command."
"...!"
"Even if Cheongseong burns, as long as you live, there will be a future. Please, do not refuse my last command—my last request."
Cheonghyeon Jin-in's eyes reddened as he spoke.
"Headmaster—no, brother! Then let me stay here. You—"
Jang Un shook his head.
"I am the Headmaster of Cheongseong. How could I flee this place?"
"Brother!"
"Senior Brother… please. Grant me this last request. You must lead the first-generation disciples and the younger ones. It is a heavy burden, but I beg you to shoulder it."
Jang Un's tearful plea left Cheonghyeon Jin-in choking with emotion. The Headmaster's words were true. But how could he bear it?
At that moment, a Cheongseong disciple stationed on the mountain path leading to Wolseong Lake shouted,
"The enemy approaches! The Heavenly Wolf Troop is here!"
Tension spread like suffocating smoke. Jang Un seized Cheonghyeon Jin-in's hand and shouted.
"Please! There is no time!"
"Headmaster…"
Na Hanmin and Cheongu Yulsa bowed their heads, sobbing silently. The first-generation and younger disciples did the same. Those who remained to fight smiled through sorrow.
Jang Un roared.
"Disciples of Cheongseong! Do not weep. We are the Great Cheongseong Sect!"
He turned to Cheonghyeon Jin-in, pleading.
"Go! Please! Only then can we fight without hesitation."
"Headmaster…"
"Go to Geomhyang Hall. Find Lord Dokgo and entrust him with seeking out the Scholar. Ryu Yeong—he will surely find a way to avenge us. He truly is the brilliant strategist they say he is."
Revenge!
At that word, light flashed in the eyes of Cheonghyeon Jin-in and many others.
Yes.
They had to live. Only by surviving could they avenge the fallen and safeguard the sect's future.
Cheonghyeon Jin-in led the first-generation disciples, household disciples, and all under twenty. Forcing their reluctant steps, they withdrew.
Two hundred disciples moved along a side path by Wolseong Lake, then broke into a run—tears streaming down their faces.
Headmaster Jang Un watched them go, then clenched his teeth and turned back.
Clang!
His sword came free.
"Though we are poisoned, we will show them the sword of Cheongseong is not so easily dulled! Even without inner power, do not cower. Our blades are the sharpest in the world!"
Claang!
The remaining thirteen hundred disciples of Cheongseong wiped their tearful eyes and drew their swords as one.
Jang Un cried again.
"Three-man formations! In groups of three, we can hold them back. Superior technique surpasses inner strength. Do not fear—trust your comrades, trust your training! We are the Great Cheongseong Sect!"
The Heavenly Wolf Troop surged up the mountain path, spreading out across the slope before Wolseong Lake. Their formation stretched wide.
Seeing this, Jang Un and the Cheongseong disciples' faces hardened. The enemy was not one hundred strong. They were well over three hundred.
Jang Un's heart sank.
He had believed that with two hundred disciples evacuated, those remaining could still deal the Heavenly Wolf Troop a heavy blow. But that hope crumbled in an instant.
He let out a bitter laugh.
Cheongseong would burn today, that much was certain. The only solace was that he had sent away two hundred disciples to preserve a fragment of hope.
Thump, thump, thump…
The Heavenly Wolf Troop charged, their footfalls pounding the earth, swift and silent.
With qinggong at full force, their speed was terrifying.
At the forefront, the troop's vice-captain Gwan Taerang raised his sword and shouted,
"Proud comrades of the Heavenly Wolf Troop!"
Three hundred fifty soldiers echoed his cry.
"For the dream we share! Let us carve a new world with our strength!"
And together, they roared,
"And at last—we shall become legend!"
Claaaang!
Three hundred fifty blades of the Heavenly Wolf Troop clashed with the thirteen hundred swords of Cheongseong.
Screams filled the air instantly.
"Aaaargh!"
"Ghhhk!"
Every body that fell belonged to Cheongseong.
Shhk! Slash!
Wherever the wolves' blades moved, blood spattered like rain.
Their elite vanguard of one hundred cut through without resistance, plunging into Cheongseong's ranks. Two hundred fifty more followed, swinging mercilessly.
"Hold them! Hold them!"
Jang Un screamed until his voice cracked, but the scene was already overwhelming.
He had ordered three-man formations, to rely on technique instead of inner power. Against other black-path warriors, it might have worked.
But their foes were the Heavenly Wolf Troop—the most elite unit of the demonic cult.
Not only were their inner powers great, but their swordsmanship was no less sharp than Cheongseong's.
The troop leader of a squad, the Blood-Splitting Blade, rubbed his bald head and burst into laughter.
"Khahahaha! Is this the mighty Cheongseong Sect of the Nine Great Schools? Even a passing dog would laugh! If I'd known you were so weak, we wouldn't have bothered with poison at all!"
His jeer made the disciples of Cheongseong swallow blood and tears. Without inner power, their advanced techniques lost their edge. Even with comrades covering them, the enemy's infused weapons pierced through relentlessly.
Clang! Slash!
Headmaster Jang Un's sword danced fiercely. Surrounded by three wolf soldiers, he held his ground, unyielding.
No—he even pushed them back, aiding disciples nearby.
Swish!
"Ghhhk!"
One wolf soldier clutched his chest and staggered back, wounded by the sharp strikes of Cheongun Jeokha Sword.
If Jang Un still had his inner power, his blade would have glowed azure, like clouds spilling from the sky. And that soldier would not have lived.
"We are the Great Cheongseong Sect!"
Jang Un shouted, rallying his disciples as he scanned the battlefield.
Still, they were being pressed. The elders of Cheongseong fought valiantly to hold the lines together, but overall, the sect was only barely withstanding the assault.
Jang Un bit his lip and gripped his sword hilt tightly.
Even in defeat, it could not end in futility. They had to buy time for those who had escaped.
"I'll drag at least one more of these wolves down to the Yellow Springs!"
He kicked off the ground and plunged into the ranks of the Heavenly Wolf Troop.