The Thousand Fist Dragon Force Minister worries about the declining health of the former Divine Sword Order's leader.
A surprising sight.
No particular sincerity could be felt. It was likely because he had merely asked an obvious question of well-being. Jung Yeonshin's upper dantian perceived it as such.
He remembered Xiahou Wei-Jin, who had fainted after being struck by Ma Yeonjeok's sudden ambush.
An incident that had occurred while they were arguing over mission assignments at Wonpyeong's First Sword Hall. It was deeply embarrassing.
'A great man indeed, to go through such an ordeal and still…'
The young man was impressed. If he were to don a purple long robe, he would have to learn from such a figure in advance.
The senior seated at the head of the table displayed the demeanor of a gentleman.
It was only proper to show gratitude.
"My maternal grandfather only recently underwent revitalization. Naturally, he remains in good health. Not long ago, he even defeated the Profound Martial Alliance's leader."
"What?"
"If, by any chance, my appearance led you to believe a great deal of time had passed, you need not worry. It is merely the effect of Rebirth of Bones and Flesh."
"Ah…"
"Is it not truly fortunate? I too had many concerns, not knowing that such a miraculous place existed in this world. I feared that the harmony of time might differ beyond the formation."
"..."
Jung Yeonshin's words were unusually lengthy.
Because he was slightly excited. Once again, he had found something to learn from the black-clad senior.
Unlike the countless apes scattered across Murim, the seniors of Desolate Fortress enlightened him beyond mere martial arts.
More often than not, such realizations became inspirations for various techniques. It was thanks to the Supreme Demon of Sacred Blood that he had successfully concealed his energy and deceived the Golden Wings Sect's leader this time.
That void-like yet weighty, paradoxical energy was now greatly influencing the body-strengthening technique Jung Yeonshin was devising.
"By the way, I heard you left with the Forest Striding Squad under your command. Yet, I do not sense the energy of Desolate Fortress' warriors. I am also curious about the safety of the other two seniors."
Jung Yeonshin spoke.
"Hmm."
Xiahou Wei-Jin, who had been silent for a moment as if relieved by the former Divine Sword Order's leader's well-being, spoke in his deep voice.
"My subordinates set out on reconnaissance as scouts long ago. I gave the order. The Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader is wandering outside, searching for a way back. She has not even entered the village for over a month now. As for Obeying Heaven Squad's leader, I do not know. I have not found him."
"…You speak of scouts, does that mean there is an enemy?"
"Of course."
Xiahou Wei-Jin's thick lips subtly lowered. His gaze turned cold.
"The Three Lords and the Twin Kings. Those who came before us."
A brief statement, yet it carried immense weight. His following explanation did the same. His wariness was evident.
The Three Lords, who claimed that wherever they set foot became their land.
The Twin Kings, former heads of the Eight Great Clans, possessing the largest territory within the formation.
And beyond them, former grandmasters of Murim, who had roamed the land wielding only their weapons decades ago.
"All of them are supreme beings. I had thought they had all undergone geumbun sesu, yet they were here. Rumor has it that they struck a deal with Taemo Mountain Fortress. I do not know the details, but those damned sorcerers have long since unleashed living ghosts upon this land."
Jung Yeonshin's brow twitched.
The demonic sect, Taemo Mountain Fortress.
A sect that had raided the Heavenly Demon Tomb guarded by Heon Wonchang's clan alongside the Murong Clan.
They had once split from the Mosan Sect, which had been one of the Nine Great Sects, but now boasted greater prosperity than the main lineage. It was said that all their disciples were masters of extraordinary sorcery and martial arts.
Why had they gathered powerful beings who sought the Flood Dragon's internal elixir in one place?
There must have been some hidden scheme. But that was not Jung Yeonshin's concern. Gathering his seniors and the warriors of Desolate Fortress and escaping took precedence.
"This place is still Murim."
"Indeed. A dying formation, but Murim nonetheless. Word is that lands far from here are vanishing into a strange mist. None who have been caught in it have returned. Their fates are unknown, whether they escaped the formation or were reduced to nothing."
"Some of the former grandmasters residing in this land must be desperate to find a way out. A truly peculiar place."
"That is also true. When those fools, the Golden Wings Sect's leader and the Ten Perfection Sect's leader, began speaking of the 'Mystical Abode of the Flood Dragon' at both ends, it was laughable…"
Xiahou Wei-Jin suddenly fell silent, gazing at his now-grown junior. His words trailed off as he was suddenly reminded of the grim siege and sorcery formations from a particularly despairing day.
The ground he had once stood on, surrounded by the two great demonic sects…
It was not the sacred heart of some intangible spirit beast, but rather, a long-forgotten grave of former grandmasters.
Neither he nor Cheon So-so had the right to remain in such a mystical, purple-colored Murim.
Far from leading the era, their limits barely allowed them to protect a handful of commoners. Within an order already predetermined by those who had arrived first.
'Even now, we are being utterly overwhelmed.'
Would Lightning Genius be any different?
The black-clad warriors of the world could overturn a war by acting as gunpowder in great sect wars, but that was only when the sect leaders of major factions did not intervene.
Among the Twin Kings and Three Lords, three had been grandmasters of enormous sects, one had been extremely close to that status, and another had long served as the devoted right hand of the previous Peng Clan's leader, whom he had deeply admired.
And what of the other grandmasters who had not aligned with them? Without the arrival of a purple-robed one, it would be impossible to withstand them.
'And that one symbolizes the last hope of this fading land.'
Lightning Genius, Jung Yeonshin.
A divine mistake of the heavens, the supreme martial prodigy of his generation, the one almost certain to be the next Divine Sword Order's leader.
He must not be lost, Xiahou Wei-Jin thought.
He had no intention of sending Jung Yeonshin to the front lines. Even if all those clad in black were equal, as a senior, it was his duty to offer guidance.
He would tell him not to throw himself into the rough tides of the world, to wait until Order's leader Yong or the former Divine Sword Order's leader arrived. Even if that wait lasted decades.
Purple always arrived eventually. That was certain. Such people always did.
"If not through Taemo Mountain Fortress, then you must have come through Golden Wings Sect. No matter how you arrived, it must have been arduous. The fatigue from the journey must be immense, so rest and wait for the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader."
Xiahou Wei-Jin spoke. But Jung Yeonshin showed no sign of returning.
"Is Senior Ha safe? And if Senior Cheon has been missing for over a month, shouldn't we reconsider the situation?"
"…The White Thunder Sword Technique of Obeying Heaven Squad's leader is unparalleled in Murim. What was his name again? That exceptionally promising rising-talent… Ah, right, White Qilin Namgoong Hwashin. He didn't follow him for no reason. There's no need to worry. And you can put aside your concerns about the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader. Have you not experienced her Heavenly Star Palm Technique yourself?"
For once, Xiahou Wei-Jin spoke in a calm, persuasive manner, as if trying to convince his junior.
The Protective Energy Technique that Lightning Genius had refined had played a life-saving role several times. He also knew that his junior's epithet was growing heavier across Murim.
Xiahou Wei-Jin considered the protection of Lightning Genius to be a matter of utmost importance for Desolate Fortress.
"However many years have passed, I can tell you've become quite formidable. You and I should find Ha Do-un together. Just wait a little longer."
"I have no fatigue to recover from. Since you are guarding this village, I will go alone…"
At that moment—
"Chief! Chief!"
Suddenly, the side door swung open.
Jung Yeonshin lowered his gaze and saw a short elder.
A robustly built upper body, a thick white beard—anyone could see he was of pure-blooded Iron Tribe descent. In his hand, he held a letter.
"Ah, so you are Lightning Genius. I was the village chief before that bear-like Xiahou took over."
The Iron Tribe elder pointed at the golden taesa robe Xiahou Wei-Jin wore, indicating his former title.
Then, without hesitation, he strode forward between the two squad leaders and unfolded the letter.
"Look at this. All of you."
Jung Yeonshin had no time to introduce himself. The elder's attitude was that of someone delivering an urgent report.
His eyes naturally fell upon the contents.
[Ice Soul Cheon So-so shall, upon this year's awakening of Insects, become the consort of Peng Yuran. You villagers are to send envoys to bless the occasion and present tribute.
―Ghost Roar Tyrant King.]
"What utter nonsense!"
Xiahou Wei-Jin's massive fist shattered the table. Boom— The reverberation of his energy carried the instantaneous explosiveness unique to the Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown technique.
Jung Yeonshin instinctively realized—
Ghost Roar Tyrant King, Peng Yuran.
The Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader, Cheon So-so, had been captured by the former head of the Hebei Peng Clan.
"It seems he is after the sapling of the World Tree. Among the pure-blooded noble clans, only the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader possesses such martial prowess in this land. She alone can wield the sapling's power to its fullest."
The former village chief spoke, his tone grave.
"Why issue such a provocation? He could have handled this in secret."
Jung Yeonshin asked.
"…They say none among the Divine Sword Order are ordinary."
The elder turned to him in surprise. Just moments ago, the unparalleled young man had been sitting and reading the letter. Now, without a sound, he was standing.
It meant his movements were astoundingly natural. Even though the elder had deeply honed his blacksmith martial arts, he had failed to detect it. Cautiously, he continued speaking.
"In any case, of the Twin Kings, Ghost Roar Tyrant King is an exceptionally worldly man. Even before he became the head of the Peng Clan, he indulged in all forms of pleasure. And yet, despite that, he won the succession battle, eliminating all his direct competitors. His reputation as the Three Supreme Divine Martial Arts comes from his excellence in indulgence, strategy, and martial arts alike."
"And?"
"He may have some deeper intentions beyond our understanding, or it might simply be a grand display. Ghost Roar Tyrant King is famous for enjoying lavish banquets—while surrounding himself with subordinates."
"Are there many of his followers here?"
"He has subdued the former grandmasters who came with him and built a force."
"A force?"
"He calls it the Secret Realm Peng Clan. It might be more powerful than the real Peng Clan outside. The land is crawling with ancient monsters who should have long undergone geumbun sesu."
The elder concluded his words.
By then, Xiahou Wei-Jin was silently clenching his fists.
He was debating. As a warrior of Desolate Fortress, should he prioritize protecting the commoners here, or should he respond to Ghost Roar Tyrant King's invitation?
Jung Yeonshin did not care. He had finally arrived at his mission.
"Senior Xiahou."
"Hm?"
"Do you have any spare black robes of squad leaders?"
For a brief moment, something flashed in Xiahou Wei-Jin's eyes. The massive noble warrior questioned with his gaze.
Could it be? Was this the purple he had been waiting for…?
"Here."
Thud.
On the shattered remains of the table. A pile of fabric, thick enough to be a handspan wide, lay stacked layer upon layer. Easily more than ten sets.
All were black long robes of Desolate Fortress, with a large 'Desolate' character embroidered in white on the shoulders.
"They tear easily."
Xiahou Wei-Jin said, almost as an excuse.
Jung Yeonshin faintly smiled and picked up one of the robes.
Tuk.
He tore off the armrest of Xiahou Wei-Jin's chair, placed it on his index finger, and ignited the Three Samadhi True Fire. The soft golden shell melted with a wave of heat.
The young man placed his fingertip near the robe's shoulder and traced over the 'Desolate' character.
Ssshhhk—
It was a mark signifying his status as the direct disciple of the Lord of Desolate Fortress. The precise strokes of molten gold followed his finger, overlaying the embroidery in a shimmering golden hue.
"Even former grandmasters should recognize this, right?"
"They know it better than anyone. Their prime years were when the Lord of Desolate Fortress wielded her sword."
The elder, the former village chief, answered instead, watching with an odd gaze as Jung Yeonshin donned the large robe.
His eyes also swept over the Meteor Sword hanging at the waist of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader.
"As I thought, its condition is unstable. The young smiths of the Tang Clan had quite the ambition, claiming they would forge a peerless engraved blade."
"I will go. Please, senior, protect this place."
Step.
Jung Yeonshin raised his fists in a formal bow to the two men and turned away.
Xiahou Wei-Jin did not stop him.
He could only remain firmly in place, watching his junior's retreating figure. Bound by his duty to prioritize the safety of the common people over the assembly of the Divine Sword Order of Desolate Fortress.
'The Twin Kings and the Three Lords. The purple-colored Murim…'
Stepping out of the pavilion, Jung Yeonshin moved ceaselessly across rooftops, his movement echnique carrying him forward with ethereal fluidity.
By alternating between Splendid Wings Step, Wind Body, and Ten Li Radiance Step, techniques deeply infused with the noble clans' martial principles, he remained unnoticed by those below.
Even the Tang Clan twins, who were merrily flitting about with carefree expressions, failed to perceive him.
Earlier, Jung Yeonshin had used Heaven-Piercing Technique to measure the siblings' lifespans.
Terribly short.
Their meridians and acupoints were alarmingly weak, their bodies collapsing from within, unable to withstand the spiritual energy of their upper dantian.
A complete contrast to Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown, this was the collapse of essence, energy, and spirit.
How could they even think of forging swords? In a place overflowing with artisans eager to hammer steel for them.
'Not even worth stealing from.'
Jung Yeonshin passed by racks where weapons were carelessly left on display.
Swords no longer troubled his mind. He had reached such a state.
Only the destiny of the Tang twins, the Twin Kings and Three Lords, Ha Do-un and Cheon So-so, and the martial arts of the next realm occupied his thoughts, one after another.
He walked under the bright sunlight, leaving behind the village of forges.