Sect leader's Hall. The pavilion where the leader of Golden Wings Sect resided.
The warrior who had escorted Jung Yeonshin to the hall had already withdrawn far behind.
Generally, sects of the demonic faction adhered more strictly to hierarchy than those of the Orthodox Sects, and this place was no exception.
It felt as though the sect's leader was regarded as a divine entity, surpassing the realm of mortals.
—You'd best present yourself properly.
The warrior's voice transmission buzzed in Jung Yeonshin's ear. Though she had initially said that simply following instructions would suffice, it seemed she couldn't suppress her concern.
Naturally.
When else would a guest, well-versed in internal arts, be summoned to serve the leader?
It made no sense for a martial artist who had mastered a certain level of internal cultivation to act as a mere attendant.
At least, Jung Yeonshin had never heard of such a case. It was a role justified only because the one being served was the greatest martial artist in Sichuan.
A wandering warrior seeking a place to settle could hardly be expected to possess the etiquette of a servant.
This, in turn, implied that the leader of Golden Wings Sect was far removed from worldly conventions.
—You don't seem to grasp the gravity of this. The one waiting for you ahead is the most…
"I'll handle it."
Jung Yeonshin cut the warrior off and stepped toward the pavilion.
Step.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the warrior's voice transmission was severed.
Whether she had stopped speaking of her own volition or the profound energy permeating the leader's dwelling had interfered, he could not tell.
One thing was certain.
The warrior's earlier mention of King-Style Sword Arts, spoken as if it were a passing remark, was not an exaggeration.
Sssk.
His martial robes tightened around him.
In an instant, the contours of his forearm became visible, as if he were being soaked by an invisible force.
The pressure closing in from all directions was beyond ordinary.
'Heavenly Dragon Slaughtering Art.'
The natural energy coursed through the air with a tangible force, swirling and surging from every direction. He had heard that the effects of Accumulated Energy Cultivation were formidable, but this… even an expert in internal cultivation would struggle to achieve such a feat intentionally.
Moreover, wasn't it said that the sect's leader exerted pressure not by emitting energy, but merely by inhaling?
'A counterforce to Radiant Wheel Energy… Could I resist it with another aura?'
As the oppressive force of Accumulated Energy Cultivation bore down on him, he felt the faint mist-like aura that had been brushing over his body begin to dissipate.
The leader's probing presence vanished. It seemed she had detected nothing unusual. Jung Yeonshin exhaled the breath he had been holding, slowly and steadily.
The sheer presence of the sect's leader, shrouded in a faint aura, was overwhelming. If he had not trained under Jin Myungjo and reached the verge of Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown, he would have been entirely exposed.
'She surpasses the leaders of the Pure Demon Alliance and the Ten Perfection Sect. That much is clear.'
They had said she only paid attention to monstrous martial talents, and even with just a fragment of her aura, Jung Yeonshin could draw comparisons.
Among the martial elites of Sichuan that he had yet to encounter, only the sect leaders of Qingcheng Sect and Emei Sect remained.
"Newcomer, are you? Come over here."
The voice came from the outer hall, a little removed from the source of the oppressive aura. A man with sharp features peeked out, beckoning him forward. His presence felt ordinary.
But for someone like Jung Yeonshin, who had served in Desolate Fortress, "ordinary" meant that, by worldly standards, his martial prowess was rather exceptional.
The man introduced himself as soon as Jung Yeonshin stepped inside.
"I'm Wanyang. Quite a renowned idler, really. In this vast sect, I was the only one who had the pleasure of attending to the sect's leader…"
"I am Manyun."
Jung Yeonshin responded curtly. A pseudonym incorporating the character 'Man' —signifying an adult who had come of age.
"'Manyun'? A name befitting a wanderer. Anyway, I was skeptical when I heard a new attendant was coming. The warriors who admitted last night's guests were in an uproar, so I figured they were just messing with me. Even throwing around names like Song Yuk and Ban-ak—as if a man with such an outstanding appearance would willingly choose the path of the blade."
Wanyang, who had been the previous attendant of the sect's leader, chuckled as he spoke.
Jung Yeonshin furrowed his brows slightly, displeased at the mention of Ban-ak.
Wanyang clapped his hands together.
"Right, right, you must be sick of hearing it. The sect's leader is just like you in that regard. She doesn't care for empty words or meaningless compliments on one's looks. Just remember this: Follow orders, and nothing more. Your lodgings will be in the farthest room of the annex over there."
"Is that all I need to know?"
"You're impatient. First, I'll show you where the liquor storage is. You'll need to familiarize yourself with all the household items, get along with the cooks… Only once you've mastered the basics will you have the chance to meet the sect's leader. Do you really think that just because you made it in this far, everything will be easy? Listen closely. First, you must…"
Though Wanyang's words seemed lighthearted, there was a peculiar chill beneath the surface.
Jung Yeonshin kept silent, merely nodding from time to time.
And so,
Within the core of Golden Wings Sect, an unremarkable lesson began.
"The sect's leader enjoys drinking. Perhaps because she constantly faces the murderous aura of spirit beasts head-on, she does not suppress her intoxication with her internal energy but instead lets it flow freely. Be mindful not to frown at the scent of liquor."
For Jung Yeonshin, this was not insignificant information. It was truly new to him.
Heavenly Dragon Slaughtering Art utilized drunken energy just as much as Drunken Fist, despite its nature as a supreme martial art.
"The sect's leader never grows her hair past his neck. It's not out of concern for close-quarters combat. Some spirit beasts can manipulate mental force as if it were a physical grip. If one's clothing or hair is too long… well, I don't need to explain further, do I? That said, she doesn't favor a disheveled look, either. You'd best learn how to groom her hair."
Wanyang was a core figure within the sect. For one, he had extensive connections. He seemed to be well-acquainted with everyone—from the warriors who admitted guests to the cooks who prepared meals.
As someone who shared the same quarters as the absolute ruler of the sect, enjoying all kinds of privileges, he wielded considerable influence.
"When you enter the sect's leader's chamber or office, observe everything carefully and commit it to memory. Even the smallest object must not be out of place. Balance, beauty—if there is an art to serving the sect's leader, those are the two key principles. Just like your face, for instance."
"But just now, you said he enjoys drinking…"
"Do you think the senses of a supreme martial artist could be dulled by mere intoxication?"
All this time, Jung Yeonshin had been wrestling with his patience.
Obeying Heaven Squad's leader, Forest Striding Squad's leader, Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader—he had to suppress his anxiety every time he thought of his black-clad seniors and their subordinates, uncertain of their fate. He absorbed every drop of information Wanyang let slip, as if savoring the nectar of wisdom.
The leader of Golden Wings Sect was the absolute authority within the land of blood and conquest.
She was neither a righteous orthodox leader who debated morality nor a master of the demonic path who submitted to strength and martial might.
She could not be coerced by force or direct confrontation.
That left only two options—negotiation or stealth. The former was out of the question.
If the three martial divisions of Desolate Fortress had already been drawn into the formation of Flood Dragon, then Golden Wings Sect had effectively taken hostages from Jung Yeonshin.
Two days passed.
During that time, he observed and learned the etiquette of an attendant from Wanyang, all while devising a means to counter the sect's leader.
The conditions for an ambush were ideal, provided he was properly prepared. He could enter the inner hall without relying on Protective Energy Technique—a testament to how surprisingly lax the sect's leader's security was.
'There are no guards stationed near the sect's leader's Hall at all.'
It was as if they were deliberately making a silent statement: There is no martial artist in Sichuan capable of threatening her.
"Today is an important gathering. Normally, attendants like us wouldn't be allowed to accompany her, but she has requested that you and I be present. We will escort the sect's leader to Golden Wings Pavilion."
Wanyang said this after summoning Jung Yeonshin outside the annex of the sect's leader's Hall.
It was a day when sunlight bathed the ridgeline in brilliance. As he stole a glance at Jung Yeonshin, bathed in a dreamlike white glow, a flicker of admiration crossed his face.
"They say the sect's leader's sight technique can pierce even through walls… Perhaps she had already seen your face before her meditation even began. How terribly irritating."
There was an unusual weight to his breath. A slight chill crept into his voice at the end, though his lips maintained a friendly smile.
'What is this?'
For Jung Yeonshin, who regarded the disciples of Golden Wings Sect as nothing more than lifeless ornaments, this reaction was unexpected.
Not even boredom stirred within him. The world of martial arts in which the Radiant Demon Squad's leader moved was far beyond petty disputes. Even while operating in stealth, this fact remained unchanged.
"I didn't take this sect for one prone to trivial chatter."
Jung Yeonshin remarked. Wanyang's smile deepened.
"I debated whether to say anything, but… it's that subtly arrogant attitude of yours. Before you meet the sect's leader, I should—"
Jung Yeonshin didn't wait to hear the rest. He simply strode toward the sect's leader's Hall. What nonsense.
"What kind of insolence is this? Hey, you!"
From that moment, he severed ties with Wanyang. It didn't matter. As of today, he would stand by the sect's leader's side.
Ever since the leader of the Tang Clan had suffered a complete defeat at the hands of the leader of Golden Wings Sect, morale within Golden Wings Sect had soared to the heavens.
It wasn't merely because they were reminded of the sect's leader's overwhelming prowess.
It was because they were on the brink of securing Full Sky Flower Rain, the only force capable of restraining the Flood Dragon's movements.
Golden Wings Pavilion.
The largest audience hall within the massive estate.
Its interior was a spectacle—every surface was adorned with sculptures of golden-winged birds devouring dragons. Between the carved reliefs, dust infused with shimmering light drifted lazily.
Jung Yeonshin took his position beside a statue where the golden bird's beak was shattering a ruyi pearl. Directly behind the sect's leader's stone seat.
'As Wanyang described.'
A woman of small stature, clad in a robe the color of burnished gold and crimson.
Her black hair barely covered the nape of her neck, the air around her shimmering faintly with translucent energy. The distinctive sweet scent of Fragrant Snow Wine wafted from the jade gourd in her hand.
Even the slow rise and fall of her shoulders exuded an aura of transcendence.
They said she had mastered Sight Arts, and indeed, even as she attended to official matters, she continued to cycle her energy. She was truly one obsessed with dragon slaying.
Grandfather once said that against supreme masters who have completed Five Energies Returning to Origin, ambushes are meaningless. Their every motion sees through all techniques in a single instant.'
'To properly gauge her, he would need to meet her eyes.'
Yet, he had not seen the sect's leader's face.
She had departed without waiting for them while Jung Yeonshin was occupied with Wanyang's prattle.
"The sect's leader is as regal as ever today."
A clear, resonant voice filled the hall.
Rather than describing the sect's leader's physical appearance, the speaker elevated her grandeur with poetic words. The phrasing itself was remarkably refined.
A beggar.
His patchwork robe bore numerous mended seams, and at his waist hung a small gourd flask and a calabash.
The knot on his sash had six loops.
Despite his ragged attire, there was no noticeable stench. Seated at the far end of the row extending from the sect's leader's throne, his demeanor was utterly relaxed.
Jung Yeonshin recognized him.
Hu-gae of the Beggars' Sect.
He had seen him at the City of Master Craftsmen.
What was an orthodox heir commonly associated with the Nine Great Sects doing here in Golden Wings Sect?
The contrast was stark, while the Venomous Dragon and Venomous Phoenix siblings seated opposite him wore grim expressions, this man was here as a guest, not a prisoner.
At that moment, Hu-gae's gaze met Jung Yeonshin's.
The beggar's lips formed a silent "Hooh—" as if in admiration.
For Jung Yeonshin, who had glanced at the Tang siblings with no trace of sympathy, it was an irksome gesture.
From the time when his grandfather crafted Radiant Wheel Energy at the City of Master Craftsmen, to when he perished together with the Blood Flame Cult's leader in the Tang Clan.
Hu-gae of the Beggars' Sect had always unsettled Jung Yeonshin with his peculiar demeanor. This time was no different.
"A figure worthy of the sect's leader's presence stands beside her. Is he a new attendant?"
"Get to the point."
The instant an aged voice rang through the hall, the dust in the air rippled as if shaken by an earthquake.
An old man seated at the sect's leader's left.
His voice alone carried a weighty force—one of the Twin Protectors of Golden Wings Sect, the Left Guardian.
Jung Yeonshin thought of the Forest Striding Squad's leader. The nature and weight of the refined internal energy felt strikingly similar.
'Could Senior Xiahou have fought this man?'
At that moment, a cold blue light flickered in his eyes.
"We cannot predict when the leader of the Tang Clan will awaken, yet each of us must urgently deal with the Flood Dragon of Sichuan, can we not? If you release the Twin Venoms of Dragon and Phoenix for a moment, I will ensure you witness Full Sky Flower Rain, a technique no lesser than the Venomous Leader's Supreme Art."
Twin Venoms of Dragon and Phoenix was the epithet referring to the Tang Clan's prodigious siblings. The Left Guardian scoffed.
"A filthy beggar trying to play tricks. The only reason we haven't sent the Tang brats away is because their talent is extraordinary. Why would we risk leaking Full Sky Flower Rain to the outside world? There's no shortage of sects coveting that supreme technique, along with those two."
"Ah."
Hu-gae chuckled.
"I'm not talking about enhancing their abilities. I intend to use their connection."
"Explain in detail."
"The Tang Clan's leader's Full Sky Flower Rain was undoubtedly remarkable. But that was in the past, wasn't it? Right now, there is someone far more powerful, someone roaming the martial world with a perfected Full Sky Flower Rain."
"The Dark Flame King…?"
The name of Lightning Genius, the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad, echoed through the chamber.
The vast hall, filled with a dozen dragon-slaying martial masters, fell into a hushed silence.
Hu-gae's smirk widened slightly.
The youthful eyes of Venomous Phoenix and Venomous Dragon sharpened as well. Yet, with their pressure points sealed, they could not speak.
Only Hu-gae's voice rang through the chamber.
"The late Great Elder of the Tang Clan had a certain servant, one he kept extraordinarily well-hidden. I once overheard that man speak of the Twin Venoms of Dragon and Phoenix's potential. If the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad ever lays eyes on them… there is no way he will turn a blind eye—"
Rumble.
Hu-gae's words came to an abrupt halt.
A chunk of stone crumbled from the ceiling.
Then, an overwhelming pulling force erupted.
Hwooooosh!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
In an instant, every speck of dust in the grand hall was violently sucked toward the back of the sect's leader's throne.
At the same time, the entire ceiling—as if caught in a hurricane—began to shatter and split apart, its fragments peeling away in opposite directions.
The leader of Golden Wings Sect slowly turned her head backward.