In his lifetime, the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad had never known true camaraderie.
His two elder brothers incited the children of Xinye County to torment him.
As long as the disgrace of the Jung Clan did not become widely known in the village, they argued, even the clan leader would turn a blind eye.
It was a reasonable argument. That was precisely what happened.
Jung Yeonshin avoided confrontation whenever his peers, who had not trained in martial arts, secretly picked fights or ostracized him.
Even a third-rate martial clan was still a faction of the Murim. He had heard many tales, however crudely, and he knew that the great heroes of Jianghu did not use martial arts to oppress common folk.
His mother, too, had been a Jianghu warrior. He could not bring himself to wield the Jung Clan Movement Arts against mere villagers, let alone protect them from the Demonic Faction.
His elder brothers sneered at him. They called him weak. They said he lacked the spirit befitting someone who had devoured his own mother in the womb.
That was a distant past now. Yet, at the same time, an undeniable truth.
The swings he had never been able to ride during the Dona Festival, cast out and left behind, still lingered in his heart even after ascending to the black rank in Desolate Fortress.
Riding atop the fan of Fan Dragon Zhuge Hyeon, he came to a realization.
—Even when discarding a single stone, one must seize the initiative. And this 'initiative' also carries the meaning of 'importance'. It is the lesson of distinguishing between what is valuable and what is not. Azure Qilin abandoned the burden of being Namgoong's Young Lord and chose to become the warrior Namgoong Se-jin. In the end, he became a noble swordsman.
From Zhuge Hyeon, he learned the game of Go and discovered the initial insight into Sword Thunder Flash Art.
Upon Zhuge Hyeon's crane-like wings, he tore apart the flesh and bones of Ghost Spirit Sword, the sinister beast that annihilated Jung Manor.
It was a grace he had never received, even from his direct blood relatives.
While the majority of the Murim Alliance shunned the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad, Zhuge Hyeon, despite being a friend of Azure Qilin, still took the time to teach Jung Yeonshin the principles of Go and the philosophy of life.
He was a true hero, just like Namgoong Se-jin.
If he were to name a noble soul he had befriended outside Desolate Fortress, he believed Fan Dragon would be the kind of older brother he had never had.
Naturally, he held deep admiration for him.
That was why, at this moment, he felt loss.
He recalled the emotions he had felt upon seeing the corpses of his servants during the annihilation of Jung Manor. It was unintentional, but it came back to him.
To Jung Yeonshin, Fan Dragon was the embodiment of selfless chivalry.
'Rest in peace.'
The rope of the swing that had clung to his heart finally snapped. It had been severed the moment he recognized Zhuge Hyeon's sudden demise.
The leader of the Radiant Demon Squad decided to deviate from his assigned route. As one of the black ranks under the Divine Sword Order, he had that discretion.
"…If the disciples of Moon Castle Sect appear, stop them. You may reveal your identity at any time. One more thing, aside from the Hwangbo Scoundrel, do not engage the First Fist of the Eun Clan."
Jung Yeonshin lowered the hand he had stretched into the air, issuing his command in a monotonous tone.
Saaaaah—
The energy wave of the Transcending Law Radiant Wheel filled the sky. He had employed the mysteries of Flame River, created by Lazy Flame Dragon.
The fragments of dim light scattered into the moonlight, vanishing like crane feathers tinged with white and blue.
"You use it well. I thought you said it was crude."
Opium Poppy Junkie jested in an attempt to lighten the mood, but Jung Yeonshin did not laugh. He saw Lazy Flame Dragon adjust his expression.
A man who had lost one of his few close friends due to his reckless behavior. A leader should not seek comfort from his subordinates.
"Go to the safehouse. Do not exchange more than ten moves with the First Fist of the Eun Clan. Her defensive energy is solid. Use Blazing Solar Energy to aim for a single-point strike, but act as if you are launching an attack, then retreat. That's the best course of action."
"If I do encounter her, can I really escape?"
"You've deepened your internal energy. Didn't you refine it further in Tianzhu Sect?"
"You still have that keen eye, but why does it feel like your gaze is colder than ever?"
Lazy Flame Dragon spoke nonchalantly. At this moment, he did not chew on his opium.
Solar Divine Meridian.
A power that surged explosively as death drew near.
The Hwangbo Scoundrel, too, was born with a body that struggled to harmonize spirit, energy, and essence. Yet, in terms of accumulated energy, he surpassed even Chung Myung and was the greatest in the Radiant Demon Squad.
As the successor of the Hwangbo Clan, his martial arts bore no particular inclination.
His insight into energy cultivation was profound, and if he was willing to endure internal injuries, he could boast superior agility even before a top master.
When Chung Myung was absent, he acted as something close to a field leader.
"Jianghu is a place where untimely deaths are common."
"Indeed."
Jung Yeonshin replied briefly, lowering his eyelids slightly.
"Do not let yourself be swayed by the deaths of acquaintances. The Radiant Demon Squad could be halved at any time. The stronger you become in Jianghu, the harsher it will be."
"I've already experienced that. In Sichuan."
"I know, but one never truly gets used to it. Unless one is utterly twisted. That's just how it is. But looking at Zhuge like this, I can't help but worry about after I'm gone. I fear he'll live a dull life despite his interesting talents. He's got a surprisingly soft heart."
"Shut up and hide. Come out when I signal."
Jung Yeonshin turned slowly. The hem of his plain, patternless robe brushed lightly against his calves.
The imposing auras of the approaching noble clans were overwhelming.
They had perceived Radiant Arts Secret, Flame River—as a display of force from a powerful intruder. It seemed they were prepared to set up a sword formation at any moment.
He paid them no heed.
Step.
Leaving behind Zhuge Hyeon's corpse and the sobbing Zhuge Qing-ya, he walked forward.
Heon Wonchang, who had been silently watching Jung Yeonshin, finally spoke. The weight of the recent ordeal had temporarily lifted his grim expression.
"I don't know what he's about to do. The Leader is… becoming an adult. I've never seen that look on his face before."
"Me neither. Neither in him nor in this guy."
Lazy Flame Dragon exhaled dryly, his breath flowing from the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad's back toward Zhuge Hyeon's corpse.
The fan held by Fan Dragon remained stiff, unmoving.
* * *
The hall was artistically splendid.
The subtle fragrance of ink and paper barely faded. Despite its vast space, large enough to be used as a training hall for dozens, it remained prominent.
A Go board, sculpted from lustrous inkstone and marble, adorned the room, while elegantly painted calligraphic scrolls lined the walls, exuding an air of refinement.
"Lord Zhuge does not seem like an exiled disciple."
A middle-aged man with a square face spoke, seated on an antique blackwood chair as he observed his surroundings.
He then turned his gaze forward.
Seated across from him was another figure.
The man wore a sleek black hat that gleamed with a polished sheen. Beneath its wide, round brim, a translucent veil draped down, evoking an air of mystery.
His chin, lifted without a single crease, was equally enigmatic.
He suited the grandeur of the hall. A near-perfect finishing touch to the scene.
"An exiled disciple, you say?"
The man, revealing only the lower half of his face, curved his lips into a faint smile.
"The master of this Zhuge Martial Clan expelled the worthless kin from his household. I am the Zhuge Clan, and with my command, Infinite Fan Technique charts new horizons. Who is to exile whom? If you intend to spout meaningless words, leave."
"That is impossible. The Zhuge Clan must retrieve Eun Clan's Fist Treasure."
"The answer remains the same. It is impossible."
The middle-aged man of the Eun Clan clenched his massive fist tightly. A coarse and transparent wave of energy shimmered along the contours of his muscles, rising from the back of his hand up his forearm.
Mountain-Crushing Fist Inferior, Eun Tae-gwang. Among the Eun Clan, one of the Eight Great Clans, he was a martial artist of exceptional renown.
He was a master worthy of representing his house in an audience with a supreme martial expert.
"…We have made ample concessions. The vast lands of Hebei, the escort contracts of Wisdom River Trading Group, have we not repeatedly sent word?"
"It is not enough. How could one measure the value of ascendant martial arts with such things? You must have heard the rumors that even the venerable monks of Shaolin, who had spent centuries in seclusion, have risen from their seats. In times of chaos, they covet the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad's martial might."
"You disgrace even the enlightened monks of Shaolin in your bid to undermine my clan…! This is absurd!"
His voice gradually rose. Their secret negotiations had already dragged on for a long time.
The Zhuge Clan's leader's smile deepened, as if deliberately provoking his anger.
"You should take it as an honor to be compared to Shaolin. Every single one of you is as dull-witted as you are insignificant. I knew it from the moment you burdened my wife with the pretense of your heir's succession and your clan's revival. The blood of the Eun Clan is impulsive and utterly incapable of self-reflection."
"This bastard…!"
Eun Tae-gwang, the mighty tiger of the Eight Great Clans, shot to his feet.
KWAHAAAAK—!
With that alone, the long, thick table between them was torn apart as if a galloping earthquake had split it asunder.
His yellow sleeveless robe flapped violently. A colorless energy wave and his defensive energy erupted from his body simultaneously.
The entire hall trembled as though a storm had swept through it.
"You are nothing more than a son of a bitch who killed his own child with his own hands! A man who sold even his own bloodline for martial power and prestige! How dare you speak of family before me…!"
"You lack the posture of one who listens. You are unworthy of hearing of great causes."
The leader of the Zhuge Clan murmured.
Swish.
The sleeves of his robes brushed lightly against each other.
His arms were crossed, holding a pristine white Crane Fan. A posture difficult to associate with any martial technique.
At the same moment—
Uwoong!
The immense energy wave bursting from Eun Tae-gwang's body was suddenly pulled upwards, absorbed as if by a celestial force.
It was as if the Jade Emperor of the Heavens had inhaled deeply.
It happened in an instant.
Eun Tae-gwang's thick eyebrows shot up in shock.
A formless energy surged into the air, condensing into a sphere before instantly transforming into a thick pillar that came crashing down.
Whiiiiing—!
It descended in a perfect vertical line, like divine punishment.
From the crown of Eun Tae-gwang's head to below his groin, he simply ceased to exist.
A faint, tut-tut sound echoed weakly.
His limbs, now severed from both head and torso, sprawled across the floor without so much as a drop of blood. The cut surfaces looked as if they had been placed into another dimension altogether.
And then, belatedly—
The surrounding air rushed into the enormous cylindrical void where his body had once been.
The fierce suction scattered the golden calligraphic scrolls that had decorated the walls in all directions.
Pararak—
The leader of the Zhuge Clan raised his wide-spread fan to cover his mouth. Even the lift of his elbow exuded refinement.
For a brief moment, the white of his robe shimmered peculiarly, as if standing out more starkly than before.
"To think I breathed the same air as that kind of filth. How distasteful."
His tone shifted.
Step.
From the narrow gap of a hidden door at the corner of the room, a woman emerged.
She was a muscular figure clad in a sleeveless ash-gray martial robe.
Fist Grand Duke, Eun Hwaryun. Her expressionless gaze flicked toward Eun Tae-gwang's scattered limbs, carrying the air of a seasoned master.
"You went through with it after all, Your Excellency. He was my distant uncle."
"Do not rebuke me for it."
The leader of the Zhuge Clan chuckled.
"He was not fit to hear of grand causes. The Eun Clan will have no choice but to send another. After all, Eun Mae was the only one left to replace their former leader, whose neck was broken by the Profound Martial Alliance's leader."
"..."
"If you are concerned about the Murim Alliance, let me dispel your worries. The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader held off the Sword Saint alone. The Nine Great Sects barely had a foot in to begin with, and most of the Eight Great Clans who had pledged allegiance have already withdrawn. The current Murim Alliance is nothing more than a coalition of minor factions at the outskirts of Shaanxi. Without the Sword Saint, they are hardly worth calling a grand force, just a gathering of rabble without roots."
His long finger slid across the edge of his fan, golden characters glimmering faintly along his touch.
It was a habitual motion, yet it contained the mysteries of an unfathomable martial technique.
"As it should be. I am not there."
The leader of the Zhuge Clan murmured softly, his overwhelming presence gradually settling.
Eun Hwaryun gazed at him in silence for a long moment before parting her lips.
"The Zhuge Clan's Pursuit Execution Squad was exterminated by you, Your Excellency. Just as you intended, you have secured a foothold in Shaanxi."
"Only Desolate Fortress remains. But with their forces scattered across the crumbling Central Plains, they are too preoccupied patching a broken jar. At most, only a handful of experts will come to Moon Castle Sect's founding ceremony. Under the pretext of the Shaanxi Bimu Tournament."
"Will Your Excellency emerge unscathed?"
"How could I lose to those who come precisely where I have prepared for them?"
He spoke.
* * *
The radiant power of the Radiant Wheel had changed.
It no longer held the warmth of Buddhist teachings.
It was closer to divine law itself, its immense force enveloping his pitch-black robes.
He had not woven a specific defensive energy technique, yet it was as though he had donned the iron armor of a celestial general.
That was simply his nature.
And in contrast, the colossal presence of the leader of the Gui Clan of Shaanxi, clad in true steel armor, made for an uncanny juxtaposition.
Behind him stood the gathered noble families of the Gongya Clan, lined in a formation that could rival even the grandest of armies, yet his presence did not falter in comparison.
"Hmph."
A middle-aged man with piercing eyes met his gaze.
It was Gui Il-tae's father, a man Jung Yeonshin had crossed paths with several times before.
A great general in his youth, one who had fought against the northern tribes. His bearing and energy radiated the rough dignity of a seasoned warrior.
In the dim air, where moonlight mingled with the night, the leader of the Gui Clan parted his thick lips.
"You are Geom Un-bi, the leader of Mystic Heaven Sect, correct? Your age is astonishing, yet your martial prowess is even more so. I have a proposal…"
"Dust clouds my vision."
The leader of the Radiant Demon Squad placed a hand on the hilt at his waist as he spoke.
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