* * *
Beneath the sky where a white-winged spirit beast, linking the contemporary Radiant Demon Squad's leader and Still Deep Eyes Zhuge Qing-ya, gracefully soared, stood a grand estate composed of over a dozen pavilions.
The Gongya Clan.
A once-prestigious name had fallen from grace in the social circles of the Shaanxi aristocracy.
The wandering swordsman Geom Un-bi was the Radiant Demon Squad's leader of Desolate Fortress.
The Gongya Clan, having treated him as an honored guest, became the subject of condemnation among the warriors of the martial world.
The Gongya Clan's leader, once revered as a distinguished figure, was no longer invited to banquets hosted by sect leaders, and the Grand Young Lady, who once held the titles of Chivalrous Dragon and Sword Phoenix) at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering of Shaanxi, was now scorned by the rising talents of the next generation.
A clan that had turned its back on the martial world.
Betrayers who had drawn in Desolate Fortress.
Excuses that they hadn't known did not work. Those with keen insight had always known the truth.
They had merely been waiting for a pretext to drag the Gongya Clan down from power.
With powerful sects carving up the lands of Shaanxi as great landlords, the fertile lands held by the Gongya Clan's leader became a prime target of greed.
In the end, they had merely been granted a seat for the sake of appearances.
If they were completely cast out from the gatherings where influential aristocrats formed connections, the Gongya Clan would no longer be part of the pack of wolves but rather a piece of meat to be devoured.
"You should be grateful! Even after betraying us, you're still being included!"
Thud.
A burly man, clutching a wine flask, shouted with a face flushed red. His large, staggered steps formed an exaggerated, swaggering gait as he wandered through the spacious alleys.
He roamed drunkenly around the Gongya Clan's estate as if it were his own home.
"The wine tastes rotten! Is it because it was brewed by traitors? Must be the filth on their hands!"
Each time he roared, the shrubs that had grown through the winter air trembled. Even the dust that had settled on the walls occasionally swirled faintly.
"What a fine voice. Blood will tell, I suppose. He has the bearing of a general."
"Wasn't his father that nobleman? The one who fled the frontlines, taking the army's wealth with him?"
"He must have eaten elixirs like daily meals."
"I suppose his cultivation found its proper use. What a gratifying sight."
Among the noble guests strolling through the estate, not a single one stopped Gui Il-tae.
Some watched with amusement from afar, while others silently passed by.
The Gongya Clan was a honey-filled beehive. If a fatherless scoundrel was willing to tear apart their outward pretense for them, why would they intervene?
"The Radiant Demon Squad's leader, protected by that wretched Chivalrous Slayer! Bring out the Radiant Demon Squad's leader! The Gongya Clan, who harbored him, shall not ignore this young master's command! Bring forth the lackeys of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect! The Radiant Demon Squad's leader! He holds the key!"
The intoxicating fumes of resentment wafted from the cycle of grudges.
A certainty that the Zhuge Clan's leader would never dare appear here, a fear of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's identity and martial prowess, and an aristocrat's fury toward his own unbecoming terror—all mixed together like alcohol poured recklessly into a smelting furnace.
The Gongya Clan could not restrain Gui Il-tae's rampage.
Whenever someone could no longer hold back, the noble guests who had come as visitors would pressure them, both high-handedly and gently.
"He has lost his father. If we don't let him vent his anger, who knows what he might do in the common villages?"
"Surely, you understand his origins?"
It was the same scene, repeated for days on end. And for every day that passed, sect leaders attached themselves to the Gongya Clan's leader.
Even the rarest of martial experts perished when attacked jointly; how could a clan besieged by the aristocracy possibly function properly?
—Hoo.
Perched on the tiled roof of a pavilion, gazing down at Gui Il-tae's drunken rampage, stood a female swordsman clad in radiant red silk.
Her blade-sharp eyes matched the sword she gripped, but the hand that clenched the sword hilt, veins protruding, never drew it.
Rather than fearing exposure before the world, she now longed to step onto the martial stage and draw her blade.
Following the law of the strong devouring the weak, the Gongya Clan was ceasing to be something that belonged to their own bloodline.
Gongya Jung, the Young Clan Lord.
Beside her, Zhuge Qing-ya swept her long, lusterless hair back behind her neck.
She had remained at the Gongya Clan at the request of Jung Yeonshin, who had asked her to watch over them after Zhuge Hyun's death.
[NOTE- From here on, Zhuge Hyeon will be translated to Zhuge Hyun. Please mind some corrections.]
Because she saw her older brother in Gongya Jung, she had built a bond. Now, she concealed her identity as the last remaining successor of the Zhuge Clan.
"The distinction between righteous and demonic factions is fading."
"I do not understand what you mean."
Gongya Jung responded politely. Even after suffering such disgrace due to the Desolate Fortress incident, she did not treat Zhuge Qing-ya poorly.
She suppressed all her anger solely because Jung Yeonshin had once taught her the sword. It was the steadfast demeanor of a true martial artist.
Zhuge Qing-ya spoke to her with formality.
"The long-standing divisions of the martial world are disappearing in the face of famine. It is becoming natural to seize wealth through force. Traveling the world with Leader Jung Yeonshin made me realize, most martial artists are garbage."
She had known it since childhood. Ever since she had been led by her father's hand to inspect corpses with forensic techniques, identifying the sword styles used to cut them down.
—Ssshh.
Zhuge Qing-ya pressed her silk-wrapped leather shoes against the roof tiles.
"If you rise to arms, I can help. The Lord would allow it, too."
"…They are all formidable figures. The Gao Family Sword Sect, the Axe-Collector Sect, the Azure Sky Pavilion… Sects that act like the Eight Great Clans or the Thirteen Celestial Demons in other provinces are all gathered here. Our family must consider death before even drawing our blades. Their ruthlessness is one thing, but survival is another."
Gongya Jung slowly released her grip from her sword hilt. The long, nimble fingers, characteristic of talented swordsmen, brushed past the sword guard as they withdrew.
"I know that you are a master of the Radiant Demon Arts, but I cannot drag you into a meaningless death. Even the Gao Family Sword Sect and the Azure Sky Pavilion have brought nearly all their disciples. They are seriously intending to plunder our storehouses… The numbers of masters simply do not match."
"I don't care what happens to me."
Zhuge Qing-ya's clear gaze turned toward the distant mountains.
The mountain where her brother lay buried was barren, stripped of grass, covered in nothing but pure white snow, clinging to the tail end of winter.
Winter must pass for spring to come.
"May I ask about your Leader?"
The Grand Young Lady asked abruptly.
Zhuge Qing-ya nodded slightly.
"I will answer what I can."
"Do you truly intend to fight against the Zhuge Clan's leader? Isn't Sleeping Dragon considered one of the greatest sovereigns of Murim?"
"…That's right."
"The Zhuge Clan's leader was expelled from the Murim Alliance, yet he walked away unscathed. Though the Desolate Fortress Uprising was formed to overthrow him, it was the masters of Desolate Fortress who had their weaknesses exposed instead. Even if those with vulnerabilities protected him… This is something beyond mere calculations of mutual benefit. A banished disciple should have been dealt with severely. Why do you think that didn't happen?"
"Because he is transcendentally powerful. Powerful enough to fully capitalize on that protection."
"You're absolutely right. No matter how strong the Radiant Demon Squad's leader is, he has no chance of winning right now… I believe he is of a similar age to my younger brother. His opponent is the head of one of the Eight Great Clans."
If the Zhuge Clan's leader truly perished, the situation of the Gongya Clan would undergo a dramatic shift.
The influence of Desolate Fortress would spread entirely across Shaanxi, a barren land devoid of any great sects.
Even without keeping warriors stationed there, the mere death of an absolute master would make it so. Such was the nature and order of the martial world.
By then, the Gongya Clan would inevitably rise to great prominence. The humiliations they suffered now were all because of their ties to the Radiant Demon Squad's leader.
"...."
Zhuge Qing-ya said nothing for a moment. Instead, she pressed down on the tiles with her foot, the motion silent yet heavy. Then, suddenly, she raised her hand and pointed downward.
"You were speaking of your younger brother."
"Hmm?"
"That must be him."
The estates of powerful noble clans were built like royal palaces.
Beside the long, straight wall extending to the banquet hall, a young noble with sharp, piercing eyes, much like the Grand Young Lady, was blocking the path of Gui Il-tae.
It was Second Young Master Gongya Su.
"Quit using Radiant Demon Squad's leader and Chivalrous Slayer as excuses for your cruelty. It's disgraceful and makes you look utterly pathetic. We didn't disgrace the Gui Clan's leader!"
His red martial robe trembled with indignation. Gongya Su continued furiously.
"You wouldn't dare make a single sound in front of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, you spineless bastard!"
"Hahahahahaha—!"
Gui Il-tae burst into boisterous laughter.
"Gongya Su, you little brat! I never thought you'd grow such a backbone!"
His voice was deep and resonant, like a cavernous echo, filling the air with sheer boldness.
He had already captured the attention of the guests, but now, anticipating an imminent battle, the spectators began scaling the walls with agile movements, perching themselves on rooftops and ledges.
A grand banquet, now utterly chaotic, all in accordance with the martial world's unyielding principle of survival of the fittest.
Gui Il-tae glanced around broadly, as if welcoming them, before fixing his gaze on Gongya Su.
"So, where exactly is that esteemed Radiant Demon Squad's leader right now?"
"...."
"Let me take a guess."
The thick lips of Roaring Sky Mad Blade Gui Il-tae twisted into a smirk. Suddenly, he spread both arms wide.
"I'll wager my Shaoxing wine that the present Radiant Demon Squad's leader has fled in fear of facing the Zhuge Clan's leader! That bastard isn't even a supreme master of purple rank!"
—Waaaaaah!
"His rhetoric is unimpressive, but his voice is certainly the loudest in all of Shanxi!"
It was an era where amusements were scarce.
A middle-aged man with a thick beard clapped among the crowd. He was the Azure Sky Pavilion's leader, renowned as a powerful aristocrat.
His gesture stirred a deep, profound force, causing faint mist to rise between his fingers. Noticing this, the people around him followed suit and clapped.
Then, it happened.
Right where the Azure Sky Pavilion's leader had stood.
—Huaak—
The heavens and the earth connected in an opaque pillar.
A thick vertical line appeared without the slightest trace of forewarning and faded into the distance like a dream, leaving behind scattered limbs sprawled carelessly on the ground.
"Uh…?"
"What, what just happened?"
The warriors in attendance wore dazed expressions. Perhaps it was because the sight before them was too unreal to be the result of mere swordplay.
From afar, Gongya Jung and Zhuge Qing-ya, who had been dashing across the rooftops, came to an abrupt halt.
[An aristocrat must not be frivolous.]
Six Harmonies Voice Transmission echoed with divine resonance, the voice as clear as a song's melody.
And then—
—Wooooong—
He descended through the clouds.
His pure white robe billowed grandly, resembling the flapping wings of a noble crane.
[There they are, the flock of bats weighing Desolate Fortress and Moon Castle Sect on a scale.]
A man who had stopped mid-air. His fluttering sleeves, continuously swayed by the wind from his elevated position, seemed eerily fitting.
An unparalleled appearance. His facial features alone were enough to call him a peerless figure.
He radiated a transcendent aura.
Upon his head sat a jet-black broad-brimmed hat, with a translucent veil draping down beneath it like the crown's hanging beads of a king.
His sharp jawline embodied nobility itself.
"Sky-Stepping Void?"
"It's the Zhuge Clan's leader!"
A wave of commotion rippled through the crowd.
As murmurs spread among the gathering, a few figures walked up beside the frozen Gui Il-tae.
"We pay our respects to the leader of Moon Castle Sect, the Sleeping Dragon. I am the leader of Gao Family Sword Sect."
"Zhuge Clan's leader, why have you not graced the Axe-Collector Sect with your presence?"
They were middle-aged men and women, the leaders of Gao Family Sword Sect and Axe-Collector Sect.
They were of equal standing with the master of this estate, effectively the heads of the Shaanxi aristocracy.
The long hems of their robes, trailing in crimson and golden hues, signified their status as individuals unmatched by any rivals.
It was a mark that wherever they went, they carried themselves with absolute dignity.
—Wooooong—
A surge of internal energy coiled around their bodies, forming countless swirling patterns that gradually dispersed into the air.
It was the ripple of power resisting the overwhelming presence of the Zhuge Clan's leader.
A faint chuckle. It came from the Zhuge Clan's leader.
[Kneel.]
* * *
The smoke that filled the winter sky was an unusually dense shade of ashen gray.
The Gongya Clan estate had turned into ruins.
As Gui Il-tae's drunken rampage drew an ever-growing crowd of spectators, those who had not witnessed the Azure Sky Pavilion's leader's demise foolishly dared to challenge the name of Sleeping Dragon.
It was after they had watched their masters, elders, and senior disciples kneel and bow their heads.
In the provinces, the martial aristocracy acted as if they were royalty.
They had never truly experienced a larger world. This was precisely why they dismissed the lofty swordsmanship displayed by wandering warriors as mere trickery.
Many lunged at the Zhuge Clan's leader, only to have their heads severed instantly as they were met by a howling tempest that surged like a tidal wave.
Some were cleaved entirely at the waist.
No warrior could remain still after witnessing their disciples' blood burst into the air like a crimson spray.
Suppressing the bloodlust that arose from the overwhelming martial force, the heads of the Shaanxi aristocracy, who had been kneeling until now, finally drew their weapons.
And now—
—CHWAAAAANG! KWAKWAKWAKWANG!
The Axe-Collector Sect's leader, clad in red robes, was sent crashing through two entire pavilions.
The rebounding shockwave shredded the ground, generating an unbearably violent sound.
Above the shattered fragments of her protective energy barrier, now reduced to scattered white light, she coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"Kuhk—! Ugh…!"
Beside her lay a corpse, its lower half entirely missing—the remains of the Gao Family Sword Sect's leader, who had attacked in tandem with her.
[Axe-Collector Sect's leader. You have reached the wall of Mind-Spirit Unification. That alone makes you worthy of being called the strongest in Shaanxi.
The strongest in Huguang is the Lord of Desolate Fortress, and the strongest in Henan is the Shaolin Abbot. Your standing is remarkably high indeed.]
From afar, the Six Harmonies Voice Transmission resonated once more, carrying an undertone of mockery toward the Shaanxi martial world.
The sheer weight of his presence, echoing as if it were the decree of an absolute celestial being, made even his voice a terrifying force to behold.
"Even after killing my disciple, you dare…!"
[Swear allegiance to Moon Castle Sect. I will appoint you as the vanguard of an elite force that shall restore freedom to the martial world.]
"Had you offered a proper negotiation, I might have considered it…!"
[A rogue can never become a martial aristocrat. Neither can those who lack spirit. Why should I grant mercy to those who, even after hearing my cause, still wavered in their calculations? I must soon face Desolate Fortress.]
"You bastard!"
—Shraaak—
A sudden, colorless thread twisted forth and slit the Axe-Collector Sect's leader's throat.
Her wrinkled lips twitched for a brief moment, and then, the light vanished from her eyes.
Right where she had stood just before being flung away—
"...."
A deathly silence settled over the open courtyard before the sparring grounds, where Gui Il-tae and Gongya Su had been raising their voices.
It was both chilling and searing.
Hundreds of guests of the martial tournament had gathered, yet all fell into silence. Even the noble guests who had arrived late at the Gongya Clan estate were no exception.
The winter breeze that brushed against their skin carried the crisp, transparent air of the season, yet the atmosphere of the ruined estate smoldered with the heat of scorched stone.
It was the aftermath of an absolute show of force.
[I am your fervent wish.]
—Shraaak.
Hovering in midair, the Zhuge Clan's leader unfolded his fan wide.
Behind him, the Gongya Clan's leader knelt with his head bowed, his crimson robes shredded into rags.
He seemed to have lost consciousness.
The Grand Young Lady and Second Young Lord pressed their reddened eyes shut as they worked on his Meridian Pressing and Acupoint Penetration.
The crowd remained speechless, as if they had lost the ability to speak.
With the region's most formidable warriors present, the entirety of Shanxi's martial world had effectively fallen to a single man.
A semi-transparent, dome-like barrier, vast enough to enclose the estate, confirmed it.
It was the Zhuge Clan's leader's absolute domain.
—Rustle—
"My lord, this humble one has long awaited you."
It was then that Gui Il-tae bowed with feigned elegance.
—Step.
Just as he prostrated himself, a black leather shoe pressed down on the back of his head.
The sound of sand grinding against the dirt was razor-sharp.
The moment he lifted his gaze, a single character came into view—
'Desolate.'
"You… crazy—!"
Before Gui Il-tae could finish his curse, his head was crushed beneath the sole of that foot.
The sickening squelch of blood, the crunch of his skull shattering.
Yet, no one spared a glance at his corpse, sprawled lifeless on the ground.
Three figures had suddenly appeared.
The Zhuge Clan's leader's aura, which had pressed down from all sides, recoiled against their presence.
Each figure was clad in a long, jet-black cloak, their silhouettes starkly outlined beneath the bright moonlight.
Among them, the moonlight paled against the face of a young man, as if all other colors had been drained.
Lightning Genius, the Radiant Demon Squad's leader.
As he strode forward, moonlight rippled through his swaying hair.
Jung Yeonshin's black sleeves billowed long and fierce.
—Srrng.
A sword, drawn with elegant fluidity, caught the moon's radiance and shattered it into glimmering fragments.
Eyes widened among the spectators.
The sword of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, once pristine white, had begun to glow blue.
An auspicious energy slithered along the blade, and in that very instant, the Zhuge Clan's leader's domain trembled as a whole.
—Kuuuuung—
The silence did not last long.
The three squad leaders of the Desolate Fortress' Divine Sword Order stepped forward.
—Step.
Amidst the hushed stillness, their footfalls rang clear.
Dust curled up the hems of their robes.
Their internal energy raced through every meridian, so blazing fast and potent that the surrounding dirt and dust were crushed and scattered beneath its pressure.
[I have waited. Have you made ample preparations?]
Hiding a smirk behind his fan, the Zhuge Clan's leader chuckled low.
—Saaah—
As the oppressive auras of the vice-leader of the Divine Sword Order, the leader of the Blood Preservation Squad, and the Radiant Demon Squad's leader distorted the very air around them, an increasing number of those who had initially tried to flee were now stopping in their tracks to look back.
The leader of one of the Eight Great Clans, the squad leaders of Desolate Fortress,
A clash beyond belief. A moment that could shift the entire era.
"...."
The air turned sharply foreboding.
A dry wind passed through their midnight-black robes, and the martial world held its breath as it watched them.
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