* * *
Dawn broke.
It was the day of the wedding ceremony.
A hundred or more people were lined up in a procession along the ochre-colored path leading to the mountain's summit.
Transparent sunlight shimmered alongside the dew on the foliage that adorned both sides of the wide mountain path.
The gaps between the people were unusually long.
At the uppermost end of the procession, where one could overlook the line below, Wind Lord Lee Shi-myung stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his blue robes fluttering. At the very bottom end, much further down, stood Jung Yeonshin, who had entered as a guest of the Secret Realm Peng Clan, his eyelids slightly lowered, silent. It was an intentional arrangement.
Between them, the past generations of masters filled the space.
Dust swirled at the feet of those dressed in monastic robes, and flowing silk robes, yet the unseen waves of energy emanating from them were all intense.
Long-eared, elegant nobles of the Ming race and elderly men with lengthy beards—all the same.
For Jung Yeonshin to ascend, he had to pass through the entire line of the Secret Realm Peng Clan's old monsters.
What they had prepared was no ordinary ceremonial rite.
The first sequence of the grand wedding ceremony was for the bride to arrive at the place where her partner awaited, aboard a small boat.
The Secret Realm Peng Clan had replaced that waterway with their own ranks.
It was to display their might. At this moment, to those watching from both above the mountain ridge and below the sloping path.
This was the seat where the Ghost Roar Tyrant King would take the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader.
The news had drawn a crowd of over a hundred to gather above and below the mountain ridge.
The past masters of various clans, staring in astonishment at the Secret Realm Peng Clan, which had occupied a three-hundred-zhang stretch of the mountain path in a single line.
"Look at that lineup. Wind Lord Lee Shi-myung, the Broken Sect Ghost Sword Peng Moran, a hundred of those old monsters who refuse to die…"
"They brought their full force."
"If the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader fully harnesses the sapling's abilities, they might gain the power to shape this space as they please, whether to stabilize the formation or to banish those who offend them."
"The entire landscape is about to change."
"Isn't it terrifying? From now on, everything in this land will be dictated by the will of the Ghost Roar Tyrant King."
"Today, he is taking Ice Soul Cheon So-so, and she has both the strength and the forces to protect her. He's become an absolute entity."
"I wonder how the other members of the Twin Kings and Three Lords will react. Surely, they will reveal themselves at this gathering… It wouldn't be strange for someone to try to steal away Cheon So-so."
"It would be wise to tread carefully today."
These were the secluded masters.
They undeniably existed in the martial world, yet no one could find them, completely severed from it, maintaining their own order in isolation.
They had arrived in this land through a deal with Taemo Mountain Fortress, but after witnessing the Flood Dragon in person, they had devoted themselves solely to training and survival. That was decades ago.
No one could take their eyes off the wedding procession.
They had to watch.
To continue living undisturbed in this land brimming with natural energy, they needed to fully grasp the power dynamics of the Twin Kings and Three Lords.
"Hm? Look at that man in yellow. Even someone from Desolate Fortress is here."
"That's not the bald-headed Forest Striding Squad's leader. It's someone unfamiliar."
"Then the rumors must be true."
"Has the Golden Wings Sect's leader truly activated the formation?"
A murmur spread through a portion of the crowd as they laid eyes on Jung Yeonshin.
The past masters were not particularly astonished by the appearance of a lone figure clad in black.
Rather, they furrowed their brows, sensing that the arrival of an unfamiliar individual might signify the emergence of the Golden Wings Sect's leader.
"The Golden Wings Sect too… A storm is brewing one after another."
"And yet, that man from Desolate Fortress seems to have submitted to the order of this place. If he came to rescue the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader…"
"He must have seen the forces under the Ghost Roar Tyrant King. Who wouldn't despair upon witnessing those old monsters?"
"The dignity of Desolate Fortress is in shambles. The Forest Striding Squad's leader, simply guarding villages, is no different."
"They are mere children of the lower Murim, the underworld. No matter how they try to interfere in the affairs of their predecessors in the Celestial World, they will only suffer losses. It is wise of them to submit."
Among the onlookers surrounding the mountain path, none dared to oppose the Secret Realm Peng Clan. They only watched.
The past masters, though deeply invested in today's events, remained relaxed and composed.
"Desolate Fortress… It was once quite fearsome in the mortal realm."
"Yes, during the reign of the imperial family, Desolate Fortress was indeed formidable. Kill one of them, and another would come seeking vengeance."
"How could the seventeen pitch-black blades of the Divine Sword Order ever reach this place? It seems that fellow has merely clung to the Golden Wings Sect's leader and arrived alone."
There were countless people who regarded this secretive realm of the Flood Dragon as no more than a paradise of transcendents who had achieved enlightenment through martial prowess.
A sense of detachment from worldly affairs. Even the elders who pitied the other leader of Desolate Fortress for losing the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader showed little real concern.
Some, seemingly from the demonic faction, even displayed open mockery.
"Look at that golden thread… He must be the disciple of Desolate Fortress' Lord."
"He's certainly no royal, so what kind of wind could have swayed that peerless beauty…?"
"Judging by his looks, I can see why he was chosen."
Even as they clearly recognized that Jung Yeonshin emitted no energy and carried himself with extraordinary bearing, they deliberately made offhanded remarks.
Their words and demeanor were proof of Murim's long-standing resentment toward Desolate Fortress.
Even here, in this paradise overflowing with natural energy, they remained martial artists of the martial world.
The more Jung Yeonshin maintained his silence, the more the taunts and jeers escalated.
Saaaa—
A sudden gust of wind scattered fine white down into the air. The seeds of Golden Hairpin Grass. Not a single one of those tiny feathered florets would escape beyond this place.
Just like the past masters of this land, who had made the Flood Dragon's mystical ground their home.
"You talk too much."
Jung Yeonshin spoke, his voice slow and deliberate.
"Old men who are about to die."
His voice rang quietly along the mountain path.
There was something beyond mere martial prowess embedded within his starkly clear tone. Was it spiritual resonance, the kind found only in divine arts? For a moment, silence fell over the surroundings.
Jung Yeonshin had taken his stance here with the intent of drawing out his martial power to the utmost extreme, so much so that even he could not fully measure its limits.
The young man of the Jung Clan, now a part of Desolate Fortress, had long since laid his heart to rest in an unfamiliar sense of stability.
At some point, he had begun to perceive the fate of Desolate Fortress' warriors as something sorrowful. The thought of any among his comrades forsaking their nature pained him.
Even if that someone was the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader, Cheon So-so. Even though they had never shared a deep bond, she felt closer to him than even his second brother, Jung Jungsan.
Such was the way of a martial sect.
While the past masters doubted their ears, Jung Yeonshin looked toward Wind Lord Lee Shi-myung in the distance and spoke again.
"When are the parties involved arriving?"
A Ming race elder, bearing the appearance of a youthful man, smirked.
"They are already there. The Ghost Roar Tyrant King and the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader are holding the ceremony at the end of this path."
"What?"
"There was no need to take on the great risk of having her stolen away, not when we had already displayed our might. Once the rites are completed, our Tyrant King will descend with her."
"..."
Jung Yeonshin's eyes fully opened.
'A wedding. The greatest vow one makes in life.'
He thought to himself.
This land was deeply bewitching. A place full of people accustomed to sorcery, a martial world dyed in purple, where wielders of strange martial sorceries were common.
Sorcery was the study of invoking mystical harmonization through true words, and true words were, after all, merely spoken words.
The moment Cheon So-so, willingly or unwillingly, uttered her vows in the great ceremony, who knew what kind of sorcery might be triggered?
Just like the forbidden seal that once prevented White Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin, from harming the warriors of the Namgoong Clan.
White Qilin, now said to be surpassing even his elder brother Azure Qilin, had yet to take on missions in South Zhili. Because the Namgoong Clan was there.
There was no time.
As the realization of urgency struck the young man in black robes, the dandelion seeds near his feet began to whirl erratically, forming a widening spiral.
It was the Transcending Law Radiant Wheel.
The nearby elders reacted instantly.
"How dare you!"
"Young one from Desolate Fortress, stay in your place."
"If you act recklessly, you may never return to your Lord's embrace…"
Puhak—!
A massive elder, who had been standing with his hands clasped behind his back in warning, burst apart—flesh and all. It happened the moment Jung Yeonshin extended his right hand.
A moment later—Quang!—a deafening boom resounded, and a translucent, circular shockwave exploded outward, kicking up a storm of dust in all directions.
He was killed instantly.
The elder who had spoken of Desolate Fortress' Lord did not even leave behind an intact corpse.
"..."
Shattered bone fragments and torn muscles brushed past Jung Yeonshin's fingers. With a soft thud, thud, pieces of internal organs dropped lifelessly to the ground, filling the silence.
He stared forward in silence.
With one body removed from his sight, another elder now stood blocking his view. Wide-open eyes, wrinkled hands gripping a sword—an elderly swordsman of slender build.
The Desolate Fortress' Radiant Demon Squad's leader took another step forward.
Ten Li Radiance Step.
The eyes of the countless masters filling the mountainside reflected the spectacle.
Step.
His movements were slow, almost like a stroll. Was it an illusion? There seemed to be a faint starlight at his toes. Behind the light was a lingering afterimage.
Jung Yeonshin's figure blurred. Simultaneously, all the grass that had been leaning toward him abruptly flattened in the opposite direction.
Boom!
The earth caved in a massive circular depression.
Jung Yeonshin's form shot forward in a straight line, and with a thunderous roar, the body of the elder swordsman in his path exploded.
Before a sword could be drawn, a hand infused with Radiant River Energy had already pierced through the elder's abdomen and passed through.
The elder's body could not withstand even a moment of the resonant impact, shattering along with her sword and scattering in all directions.
Kwoooooom—!
A dull tremor, a spiraling burst of force, a young man in black robes leaping along the mountain path, a fountain of blood rising in his wake…
The sight was etched into the eyes of all present like a dream.
Two attacks had taken place in an instant. Even having witnessed it, it was hard to believe.
Fwaaaaah—!
Jung Yeonshin tore through the wind with his entire body. The violently billowing hem of his black robes brushed against his skin.
In the blink of an eye, he had leapt past a hundred heads, and in his sight were the shocked faces of dozens of warriors.
Landing at the rear of the formation, Jung Yeonshin reached toward his waist.
Srrrng.
The Meteor Sword of the Murong Clan's leader was unsheathed, radiating brilliant light.
As the warriors, their expressions sharp with tension, drew their weapons and erupted with terrifying energy waves, Jung Yeonshin spun the Radiant Wheel of his heart even more fiercely.
Sword Thunder Flash Art, Judgment Qilin.
Chwaaaaaak—!
A chilling silver arc was inscribed in the air.
Gripping the Meteor Sword, Jung Yeonshin cleaved through the bodies of the charging elders in a single, continuous motion.
But the intricacy of the strike was far from simple.
The grip—adjusted mid-movement to neutralize air resistance in an instant. The force—unleashed from the Tianzong Acupoint in his scapula to his elbow like a tidal wave. The surroundings—warped with the transparent rippling of air caused by the full-body pulse force.
"Hoooh!"
"Such talent…!"
Those who had physically experienced the sheer extreme speed tumbled with expressions of astonishment. And with those very expressions, they died.
This was only the beginning.
Jung Yeonshin began his charge once more.
Puh-eok— Puhwak!
His right hand, holding the extended Meteor Sword, his left hand, coiled with the spiraling currents of Radiant River. At his feet, the faint white glow of Ten Li Radiance Step shattered like an illusion.
It was an exquisitely skillful yet tyrannical path.
The human wall before him exploded and collapsed in succession. Some were cleaved cleanly in two.
A crimson spray of blood surged like waves. The solid, mystical ground of this secretive land repeatedly ruptured, debris soaring and crashing down in erratic bursts.
Boom! Chwaaaaaak—!
"Avoid him! Left upper formation!"
"Huuuh—!"
It was a merciless breakthrough.
Jung Yeonshin shattered and cleaved through the warriors. The single-file line guarding the wedding procession was obliterated in an instant.
Those pursuing from behind, the masters of past generations, could not even reach Jung Yeonshin as he crushed corpses beneath his feet and pressed forward.
In mere moments, he reached the end of the long formation.
Now, the only one before him was Wind Lord Lee Shi-myung.
Behind him, completely obliterated weapons and fragments of flesh rained down, yet Jung Yeonshin's gaze only took in the two women standing at the cliff's edge.
One wore a scarlet ceremonial robe embroidered with cranes, her hair pulled up beneath a black coronet.
The other wore alternating layers of black silk and red hongdan skirts, her narrow-sleeved grand crimson robe covered with a phoenix crown, and a faintly reddish bridal veil draping over her face.
The Ghost Roar Tyrant King had assumed the groom's role—dressed in red ceremonial robes and a black coronet, her presence captivating all around her.
The woman whose half-transparent crimson veil concealed her face was none other than the Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader, Cheon So-so.
The moment her gaze met Jung Yeonshin's, her eyes widened.
Likewise, the Ghost Roar Tyrant King, glancing briefly at him, smirked with pink lips and reached for Cheon So-so's veil.
Sarak.
She intended to remove it. It was the final act of the great ceremony.
"You are powerful, but your attention wavers."
Wind Lord Lee Shi-myung's voice.
It rang out swiftly through Art of Lip Synchronization.
Fwaaaah—!
Jung Yeonshin's eyes shot open.
His vision was suddenly filled from below—by a barrage of leather boots.
It was the Wind-Blossom Four-Wheel Kick.
The force bursting from just one of Lee Shi-myung's legs swirled around like a hurricane, wrapping Jung Yeonshin from all sides, akin to the resonant shockwaves of his own full-body pulse force.
'If I don't counter this…'
A direct hit meant instant death. Even with luck, escaping grave injury was impossible.
At that moment, the Meteor Sword trembled uneasily in his grip.
Its durability had reached its limit.
Previously, it had endured countless strikes from the Murong Clan's leader's hands, and today, it had been forced to withstand the relentless onslaught of past masters' techniques without pause.
Time slowed to a crawl.
A cascade of solutions flashed through Jung Yeonshin's mind like streaks of light.
'If I use Arrow Control with Energy…'
He could reach the Ghost Roar Tyrant King's hand.
But in doing so, he would have to endure the ultimate techniques of both the past masters pursuing him and Wind Lord's kicking art.
It was far too dangerous a moment to test his half-completed body-protection energy.
At some point, the Ghost Roar Tyrant King had turned her head toward her betrothed.
Cheon So-so, unable to recognize Jung Yeonshin at first, gave only a small flinch.
The past masters, capable of stretching a single moment into eternity, radiated undisguised confidence. Their overwhelming presence seeped into the air from all directions.
—You die here.
Lee Shi-myung's killing intent echoed in Jung Yeonshin's ears, infused with peerless internal energy.
His extended foot, poised to crush Jung Yeonshin's neck—
The Meteor Sword hummed.
A tone resembling a song. From the blade, a translucent wave began to spread.