* * *
"The Desolate Fortress is a graveyard for heroes,"
The Young Lord of the Ming Cult spoke, tilting one corner of his lips beneath the silver mask.
"And yet, to the eyes of the martial world, there are no greater fools. To possess such martial prowess, yet willingly charge into a place that is clearly a death trap, if that isn't stupidity, then what is? With just a bit of effort, even attaining the rank of blue would allow one to act as a king of the local martial world."
In any village.
Draped in jet-black flames like a mantle over his entire body, he continued.
It was a mythical sight. The dark flames billowing brilliantly around his form stood in stark contrast to his entirely white attire, making it look almost like ceremonial robes worn for an auspicious occasion.
"To perform the acts of a knight-errant with such profound martial arts, for a mere few taels of silver a month? Not to mention, they frequently clash with the great sects. Many end up dead because of it."
"I don't understand your intent."
Jung Yeonshin, standing upon a field of colorless lotus flowers, held the upper part of Meteor Sword's scabbard at his waist. He was already in a combat stance.
Instead of choosing Fan Dragon Lotus Binding Technique, he had opted for Ultimate Thunder, meaning he had to secure the upper hand within the duration of his technique.
Fortunately, the energy of Ultimate Thunder, which once felt as if it would tear apart his meridians, no longer weighed upon him as it had before.
Because the Rebirth of Bones and Flesh he had devised with the mental projection of the Desolate Fortress' Lord had drastically extended the duration of Ultimate Thunder.
However.
'Nothing is readable.'
That was why he couldn't make the first move so easily.
An incredibly unfamiliar situation.
He had lived in a world where he could always anticipate an opponent's strikes toward vital points, their breathing patterns in combat, and their movements in footwork. But facing Yelu Zhen now, it was as if the entire world had fallen into silence.
The Young Lord of the Ming Cult.
He was acutely aware of what his own energy fluctuations, breath, and even the subtlest of habits signified.
By thoroughly controlling everything, he revealed nothing at all. His innate perception and mastery over internal energy were simply overwhelming.
'If I step in recklessly, I'll be caught in a counterstrike.'
But it seemed that the Young Lord was feeling something similar toward Jung Yeonshin.
The deep blue pupils visible through the mask's eye slits scanned Jung Yeonshin's entire body, revealing a faint trace of perplexity.
"…In any case, unless someone is as eccentric as Namgoong First Sword, it's nearly impossible for a Desolate Fortress martial artist to survive after encountering a supreme expert in the martial world. They say the only reason the tale of the Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman is known is that he gained insight into refining King-Style Sword Arts from his encounters… before that, even the Namgoong Clan's leader's King-Style Sword had been unrivaled, dominating the region of South Zhili."
Meanwhile, his posture, casually clenching and unclenching his hand wrapped in black energy currents, exuded an air of ease.
"I'm saying it's better to focus on events within sight rather than dwell on hopeless matters. If even the mighty squad leaders of the Desolate Fortress, commanding their formidable subordinates, cannot return by their own means, then it is a death zone for anyone. There's a reason the tale of the Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman is widely known—it's because such cases are extremely rare."
Even as he spoke at length, the jet-black flames wreathed around the Young Lord's form remained violent and dazzling.
Jung Yeonshin slowly ran his thumb along the scabbard of Meteor Sword, thinking to himself.
'He's not making the first move.'
A chilling pressure crept down his nape like ice water. His opponent was feeling the same thing he was.
He hadn't expected such an otherwise trivial fact to be so terrifying.
'If I wait any longer, I'll self-destruct.'
If there was nothing to see, then he would simply extend his sword without reading into it. He intensified the radiant rotation of his heart's light.
The colorless lotus beneath his feet began to quiver violently.
Oh?
The Young Lord reacted.
Immediately.
Dark flames flared even more fiercely as Yelu Zhen's piercing deep-blue eyes gleamed with a shiver-inducing intensity.
The moment he sensed the divine power of the radiant wheel, his gaze had been quaking like a thunderclap.
"So, what I'm saying is, there are matters that we—the only two of our kind in this world—should rightfully set our sights on. But first, why don't we tear into a wild boar or something…"
His tone carried a solemn dignity, yet the words he spoke did not match. Regardless of the underlying weight behind "the only two of our kind in this world."
'Is this provocation?'
Jung Yeonshin ignored it and surged forward.
He was a warrior.
In the martial world, there was no surer way to take control of a conversation than by comparing martial prowess.
It had always been that way.
Especially when his comrades' lives were on the line.
Boom!
The moment his right foot struck the ground, the Seventh Apostle took a step back. It seemed she had no intention of interfering in the fight either.
Whether it was due to her obsession with martial arts or out of consideration for the Taesa, she did not know.
Whatever the reason, it was just as he had hoped.
'Sword Thunder Flash Art.'
He drew Meteor Sword and thrust forward. The first move was, as always, Judgment Qilin.
The shockwave from his full-body exertion sent a powerful gust forward, pushing against the satchel strapped to his shoulder and pressing heavily against his back. The dazzlingly white sword trail that started from his waist tore through the air as it surged ahead.
The strike flew straight toward the Young Lord's solar plexus.
A split second later, the deafening roar of the unleashed sword strike followed like an explosion.
Boom!
The Meteor Sword collided with the Young Lord of the Ming Cult's upraised hand.
At that moment, Jung Yeonshin clearly saw it—the black flames, once wrapped around the Young Lord's hand like an abyss, were torn apart in all directions for a fleeting instant.
Kwooooosh—!
Jung Yeonshin's body was flung half a zhang into the air.
The sword, protected by internal energy, had nearly shattered in just a single clash.
Fragments of the jet-black flames dug into the sword's blade, sending intense vibrations through it. The recoil accumulated in his forearm was immense.
'It was true.'
The recent rumors that the Young Lord of the Ming Cult had single-handedly slain the leader of the Pure Demon Alliance were no mere gossip. Jung Yeonshin was now convinced after just this one exchange.
Suspended momentarily in midair, he did not let his surprise show and immediately swung the Meteor Sword down again.
The instant after his body was hurled upward, he unraveled the reactionary force with minutely controlled muscle adjustments.
Sword Thunder Flash Art, Nine Azure Rivers.
In that moment, the force emanating from the sword spread in all directions, wrapping around the nearby trees like a storm, shattering them into splinters.
Had he not anticipated a chained strike? The Young Lord, eyes widening at the Meteor Sword rushing down toward his crown, sent a thought resembling a transmission from his upper dantian.
"You've created something absurd."
Then, he thrust forward the sleeve of his thick, dark robe.
Within the fragment of time split into infinitesimal moments—when the resonance between their upper dantians made time slow to an extreme—
Thump—
The Young Lord's palm emitted a translucent pulse, like the beat of a heart.
Suddenly, before his outstretched palm, a blue streak of light appeared, burning through the air with a sizzling chiik sound as it carved a massive circle. Strange symbols, resembling ancient script, filled its interior in an instant.
The speed at which he drew the spell formation was anything but normal.
The moment internal energy was released from his palm, a technique was completed, as if he had merely pulled out a pre-prepared sheet of paper from thin air.
It was a casting speed that shattered the limits martial scholars often spoke of regarding spell techniques.
'The ultimate form of Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown? That's part of it, but there's more.'
Jung Yeonshin, immersed in the same slowed-down abyss of time, thought as he brought his sword crashing down.
Just as his own martial arts adhered to an independent system, this must be the Young Lord's exclusive martial technique, holding its own unique strengths.
Kiiiiing—
The symbols and patterns inscribed in the blue spell formation interlocked and began to spin in sequence.
Meanwhile, behind it, tendrils of black flames retreated, only to be drawn into the spell formation, colliding with it. From within the gaps, bolts of pure blue lightning burst forth, thick and wild, surging out of the formation.
Bzzzzzt—!
Jung Yeonshin's eyelashes flickered slightly. He, too, could think at the speed of light.
'That technique….'
This was not the corrupt energy of the demonic faction, which could be countered by divine power. It was lightning itself.
The Young Lord of the Ming Cult had taken the Heavenly Demon's martial energy, unique to the Heavenly Demon Sacred Arts, and transmuted it into natural energy through his own method.
And he had done so immediately after exchanging a single strike with Jung Yeonshin.
The title of greatest prodigy under heaven was no exaggeration.
The way the streaks of blue lightning were drawn upward toward the Meteor Sword was truly terrifying.
A flash of white streaked across Jung Yeonshin's pupils.
Still suspended in midair, still in the posture of striking down with his sword, before even moving his hands, the Heaven-Piercing Technique he had activated analyzed the lightning's nature, delivering its properties directly into his mind.
'It's possible.'
The radiant energy surging from his Baihui Acupoint, faster than his bloodstream, created a wellspring of analysis and reverse calculations within his consciousness.
A near-instinctive insight arose.
How could he withstand this blue lightning without resistance?
'Counteracting properties, infinitesimal differences in energy composition….'
With only his senses, he grasped the nature and structure of the lightning now close enough to blur his vision.
He wove his newfound understanding seamlessly into the hundreds of mnemonic verses he had accumulated throughout his life.
At the same time, guided by the words of Ten Li Radiance Step and Splendid Wings Five-Steps, the radiant energy coursed down to his Yongcheon Acupoint at the soles of his feet, forming a thin veil of internal energy over his leather shoes.
Even he, himself, could barely comprehend the bizarre flow within his body.
Static crackled irregularly beneath his feet.
'This will work.'
The next instant, Jung Yeonshin ran across the countless forks of lightning splitting apart beneath him, traversing the air.
Time, slowed to an extreme, returned to its normal flow.
The wildly rising lightning crushed underfoot, dispersing in bursts of blue radiance with a crackling zziiing sound.
He was walking upon lightning. Not even Void Stepping.
Shallow gasps were heard from all around.
They came from the Ming Cult's elite warriors, hidden in ambush under the cover of Concealment Arts.
Jung Yeonshin, who had stepped over the rising lightning in just two strides, landed behind the Young Lord.
The Young Lord of the Ming Cult turned slightly, curling his lips into a twisted grin.
"I've never seen anyone like you before. There really was another one."
"...."
Jung Yeonshin did not answer.
Long ago, the forebears of the Nine Great Sects had often created martial arts inspired by the principles of the universe and the forms of nature.
Taiji Sword, Violet Dawn Sacred Arts, Azure Cloud Sword Art, Eight Styles of the Cloud Dragon— techniques of the Immortal Path.
More than anything, in this moment, the Young Lord exuded composure.
Compared to the Radiant Demon Squad's leader of their era, the Young Lord of the Ming Cult had likely been doing this for far longer.
Twisting, refining, and reanalyzing the principles of martial arts to reconstruct the fatal weaknesses in an opponent's techniques.
If Jung Yeonshin were to attempt walking on lightning again, the Young Lord would surely adapt and introduce a countermeasure.
It would be an endless cycle.
Who had the superior skill?
That, he did not yet know.
The Young Lord of the Ming Cult had lived three years longer than Jung Yeonshin, he would not judge recklessly.
The method of converting demonic energy into natural energy in an instant had been that shocking.
Slowly, Jung Yeonshin parted his lips.
"I felt your upper dantian's intent. It was incredibly strong. If you intend to deceive me, you'll have to be extremely careful."
"Told you so,"
The Young Lord chuckled. A strangely self-deprecating smile.
"Now that we've had our fun, shall we get to the point? As for what the squad leaders of the Desolate Fortress were doing here, or where they're lying now, I don't know. However…"
"Speak."
"It might be tied to what Golden Wings Sect is up to. If your comrades weren't slain by a passing supreme expert, they might be trapped in the world where the Flood Dragon resides."
"The world of the Flood Dragon?"
"It's a type of spell formation. A dragon is a mystical being that lays out formations across the entire world and hides its body in a separate realm. To drag such a mighty, godlike entity down into our lower realm, one must offer highly cultivated individuals as human sacrifices…"
The Young Lord of the Ming Cult slowly jerked his chin toward Jung Yeonshin.
"And which sect possesses the most of such individuals? Desolate Fortress. As I said before, these days, there's no one left to take revenge for them."
"...."
"Did you know that the Golden Wings Sect was originally a great alliance? A truly massive faction. There's a high chance Ten Perfection Sect is involved as well. Though its leader was supposedly killed by the Blood Flame Cult's leader, a mere Thirteen Celestial Demon doesn't just die that easily. If he gets his hands on the Flood Dragon's Ruyi Pearl or Internal Elixir, he'll recover just fine. Right now, even a black eank like you wouldn't be enough to stop them."
The Young Lord spoke in an almost archaic tone, spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture.
"Why not seek the truth with me? I've even drawn up a rather decent plan. If, at any point, you don't like where it's going, you can point your sword at me."
And so, several days passed.
Jung Yeonshin, with the Seventh Apostle at his side, arrived in Sichuan. The Young Lord of the Ming Cult was with them.
The city streets, which should have been bustling with crowds, were eerily quiet.
Because of a massive rumor that had spread.
Sichuan's Tang Clan.
Golden Wings Sect.
Ten Perfection Sect.
"They say Full Sky Flower Rain couldn't keep up. He couldn't match the Heaven-Piercing Dragon Scales Technique of the Golden Wings Sect Leader…"
"Lower your voice. Do you think the Tang Clan is some toothless old beast?"
"Truth is truth. Not like we could understand even if we saw it ourselves."
"For the time being, Sichuan will be overrun by the demonic faction… maybe Huguang will be a better place to live."
"I feel bad for the Tang Clan's twins."
"You should worry about your own food stores first."
The three great factions had held a public gathering, and Tang Clan's leader, Tang Yun-hwang, had been ruthlessly defeated by the Golden Wings Sect's leader.
It was the hottest topic in the martial world.
The gathering currently continuing at Phoenix Resting Hall, known as Sichuan's Greatest Inn, was said to be about coercing the Tang Clan into providing forced support before the attempt to capture the Flood Dragon.
"Where are you going? Shouldn't we drop our belongings at the inn first…?"
Jung Yeonshin ignored the Young Lord's words and silently continued walking.
Sichuan's Demonic Faction.
Who had they sacrificed as offerings to manifest an ancient Flood Dragon? Were they already dead and gone?
Step.
Dust scattered loosely beneath his feet.
The invisible pressure unique to supreme experts began to weave into each of his strides.
An immense, intangible presence was unfurling like a flower, perfectly matching the size of his body.
Ever since he had increased his food intake under his grandfather's advice, his previously unstable state of Mind, Energy, and Spirit Unification was nearing the unwavering solidity of adamantine.
"Uh…?"
"What is it?"
"Over there, look."
Pedestrians, sensing the ominous aura, turned their heads in a jolt, then murmured among themselves upon seeing Jung Yeonshin.
He paid no mind and pressed more strength into his legs.
Straight to Phoenix Hall.
He had no intention of waiting.