At first glance, it felt like an abrupt, blunt question.
To some, it seemed like the impulsive outburst of a stormy teenager.
But to those who understood the intricacies of the situation, it wasn't.
Even from a distance, Gal Do-jin found it incomprehensible. He swore it wasn't a trick by So Yu-ryang.
In an instant, the cup that the unwelcome guest held was naturally scattered into the air.
'Did he do that with internal energy...? No way.'
If the technique they just witnessed was purely martial, it would be a skill so transcendent that it defied common understanding.
It was a scene one might expect only within the territory of a great sect where immortals were said to reside. Even with considerable, refined internal energy, such a display would be difficult to achieve.
'There's no special marking on his clothing. Even the inside sleeve of his robe is plain. Did he deliberately wear unadorned attire?'
A colorless gleam passed through the eyes of Gal Do-jin, the Heroic Sword.
A man of such extraordinary skill and presence couldn't possibly be a mere wanderer. He couldn't be viewed as just a vagabond, he must be someone concealing his identity, likely from a prestigious sect.
Around that time, Gal Do-jin's sworn brother let out a dumbfounded exclamation.
"Uh, uh."
The demonic faction followed the law of survival of the fittest, they said.
So Yu-ryang had the talent to master the mystical arts of the Zhongnan Sect. He had fully immersed himself in the secret techniques stolen by the Tyrant Sword Tribe and Yeoryeong Sect.
His intellect wasn't lacking. His ability to discern matters was quick. However, accepting what he had just witnessed was an entirely different issue.
"Just now...?"
So Yu-ryang's heel twitched slightly.
He tried to take a step back but stopped midway. It was difficult to decide how to react.
The world of Murim, ruled by the demonic faction, was like that—instinctive and rough.
The life or death of the weak lay entirely in the hands of the strong. So Yu-ryang had briefly lived that way himself.
'I didn't feel any energy wave. No way... was it just too fast to detect...?'
The world was vast enough to be called boundless. Even with the Desolate Fortress and many great sects, they were just a speck compared to the continent as a whole.
It wasn't easy to encounter someone powerful enough to look down upon even the most elite disciples. One could fully indulge in a life of taking without being challenged.
But what about now? Was he the weak one?
What he had witnessed was a move made by someone of his own age. Casually seated, he had displayed a dreamlike technique. The wooden cup had disappeared without a trace.
Could he be sure it wasn't some strange sorcery? But even if it were sorcery, what difference would it make? The result was the same.
As So Yu-ryang, the Young Hero of Xian, hesitated over how to respond,
"You,"
Jung Yeonshin opened his lips while still seated.
"I hear you've mastered the Nine Yang Unified Arts."
So Yu-ryang and Gal Do-jin thought the same thing simultaneously. Was that what he was after?
Anyone would covet it. The Nine Yang Unified Arts were a sword technique left behind by a supreme master of the previous generation. The master had perfected it after surviving a duel with the Lord of Desolate Fortress without perishing.
Even though it was an external technique not originating from within their sect, the Zhongnan Sect had disregarded its principles and incorporated it as the core study for its successor.
Step.
Gal Do-jin, who was slowly approaching, narrowed his eyes.
'Where is he from? White Sun Sect? I haven't heard of any young master swordsman like him.'
Greed for martial manuals transcended all boundaries, be it divisions within sects or rivalries. It wouldn't be strange no matter which sect had sent someone.
Xi'an, being a vast territory, was home to numerous sects vying for dominance. After the fall of the Zhongnan Sect, all sorts of forces had swarmed in.
Those who had obtained the Nine Yang Unified Arts were an irresistible target for other demonic sects.
Thanks to Yeoryeong Sect's secretive nature, it wasn't widely known, but many had infiltrated the city aiming for the Zhongnan Sect's manuals, rare herbs, and secret training methods.
Individuals from all walks of life had settled in Xi'an, from demonic sect disciples to wandering swordsmen. It had become a world of its own, separate from the outer realm of Murim.
Gal Do-jin suddenly spoke.
"May I inquire about your sect lineage? I am Gal Do-jin of the Sublime Land Sect."
"That guy, he's mastered the Nine Yang Unified Arts, I heard."
The uninvited guest replied calmly, repeating what he had just said.
With his chin slightly lifted, he seemed haughty. Oddly enough, that air of arrogance suited his elegant appearance.
"I asked. Answer me."
It was practically a command. His voice resonated softly along the walls, blocking the cold wind entirely.
It felt as though he didn't even consider the two martial artists before him as people. For a moment, the surrounding sounds came to a halt.
"..."
The lanterns illuminating the inn flickered more quietly than ever. What was happening was beyond what the people of Xi'an could imagine.
The Sublime Land Sect was under the domain of the Thirteen Celestial Demons, specifically under Yeoryeong Sect's faction, and was already a formidable sect on its own.
In Lantian County, Xi'an, they held more influence than the sects under the Tyrant Sword Tribe. Even most noble families were suppressed by their power.
"What is this..."
"Is he an assassin from the White Sun Sect? Are they here to target the Sublime Land Sect?"
Conversations gradually broke out among a few individuals within the inn. Xi'an had always been a gathering place for all kinds of martial artists.
Even the common people wandering outside were known for their boldness.
They had only temporarily fallen silent under the tyranny of the demonic sects carrying the names of the Thirteen Celestial Demons.
"An assassin? What kind of assassin walks in so boldly?"
"Isn't an assassination just a killing when no one witnesses it? Silent extermination."
"Calling him the Hidden Guest of Xi'an would be more believable."
"A hidden guest? That guy's only been lucky not to be caught so far. He's not strong enough to confront the Thirteen Celestial Demons' faction."
"Well, it's nerve-wracking..."
In the world of the demonic faction, swords replaced the laws of the Great Ming.
It was a structure tightly woven in a short period of time. Such was the reality of the martial world in Xi'an today.
Now, a stranger had thrown a stone into the pond, creating ripples of intrigue.
"...How rude."
Gal Do-jin realized his slip of the tongue the moment he spoke.
It wasn't something a martial artist of the demonic faction should say. He had spoken foolishly.
He blamed the strange pressure exerted by the uninvited guest. Gal Do-jin, the Heroic Sword of Xi'an, furrowed his brows and berated himself. Damn it.
The corners of the uninvited guest's lips curved into a faint smirk.
"Is your throat sturdy?"
Seated in a worn-out chair, he asked while looking up slightly at So Yu-ryang. Despite lifting his gaze, his black eyes gave the impression of looking down.
It was an attitude that only someone born with arrogance could possess.
Gal Do-jin considered the possibility that the uninvited guest was a disciple of the demonic faction. He wasn't ordinary, he had to be a noble.
'The disciples of the Blood Flame Cult are known for their red hair. Judging by his temperament, he could be from the Ming Sect or the Heavenly Extreme Sect. But would someone from the Thirteen Celestial Demons come down here directly...?'
As he pondered,
"I asked two questions, yet you haven't answered even once."
Jung Yeonshin quietly murmured.
Swoosh.
He slowly stood up. So Yu-ryang, who was standing nearby, and Gal Do-jin, who was gradually approaching, flinched.
The long hem of the black robe, donned to conceal his identity, spread out like ink. The rustling sound was clearly audible.
Jung Yeonshin recalled the masters of the Blood Flame Cult and the Lazy Flame Dragon. This was not the place to remind people of the squad leader of Desolate Fortress' Radiant Demon Squad.
"You're forcing this young master to abide by Xi'an's law."
He deliberately remarked arrogantly. The words felt strangely fitting to his throat, as if the poppy scent of the Lazy Flame Dragon had rubbed off on him. It was unsettling.
Perhaps it was due to his maternal grandfather. He kept those suspicions to himself.
'Too many arrogant people surround me.'
With a mental note to avoid becoming tainted by proximity, he shook off the thought.
Then, he spoke again.
"Worthless creatures."
They were people who slaughtered commoners without a second thought. Their martial prowess was pitiful compared to their vile nature.
With his energy concealed, Jung Yeonshin raised his right arm. He suppressed the swirling radiance in his veins before it could spiral out from his heart to his arms. It only took a moment.
The internal energy stored in his acupoints naturally enhanced his strength. It was the unique function of the Jung Clan's movement arts.
The hem of his black robe blurred as he abruptly extended his hand.
Thud!
He seized the back of the man's head.
The sensation of the man's hair packed tightly into his grip spread across his palm. The man, who had earlier spoken of throats, couldn't track Jung Yeonshin's right hand in time. His eyes widened belatedly in shock.
Whoosh—
The wind rippled through the room. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling swayed briefly. To Jung Yeonshin, it was hardly worth calling an aftereffect.
But it seemed different for everyone else.
"A master...!"
Gal Do-jin kicked off the ground. The sound of his fluttering orange robes was loud. He stormed forward, using his advanced footwork like light martial arts.
Perhaps because he was a martial artist of the demonic faction, he saw the situation as life-threatening for the man whose head was seized.
He charged as if to rescue a younger sibling. Jung Yeonshin found the sight oddly fascinating.
Sling!
The trajectory of his drawn sword was unusually straight for a martial artist of the demonic faction. It thrust forward in a direct line.
The sword bore traces of crimson stains, a sign of it being treated as a disposable weapon.
Thwack!
As he watched Gal Do-jin's thrust approaching, Jung Yeonshin tightened his grip on the struggling man's head.
The man's movements abruptly ceased. It was because he had felt strength overwhelming even his faint protective energy. It was a pure demonstration of survival of the fittest.
By then, Gal Do-jin's pinpoint thrust had extended within arm's reach, aimed at Jung Yeonshin's neck.
The rustling sound of his fluttering garment was loud. He was someone who had properly trained in martial arts.
Jung Yeonshin casually swung the back of his left hand. The air sliced through the gaps between his five fingers, producing a long, whistling noise.
Clang—!
He struck the flat of the blade precisely. A sharp shock traveled from his hand to the sword's body.
The struck sword tilted and was flung outward. Gal Do-jin barely managed to retain his grip on the weapon and stumbled forward, unable to stop the recoil from his charge.
A bewildered expression formed on Gal Do-jin's face, entering Jung Yeonshin's view. It was exactly as he had anticipated.
The psychology and technique of a lower-tier martial artist were often predictable to a master, almost like intuition. Even to a supreme martial artist hiding his true abilities in black attire, it was no different.
"Look up at me from below, you wretch."
From the Yongcheon Acupoint on the sole of Jung Yeonshin's right foot, energy exploded. It was a kicking technique.
His leg blurred into a dark streak and swiftly shot out, as if unsheathing a sword, targeting Gal Do-jin's abdomen.
The internal energy shield formed by Gal Do-jin's crossed arms blurred and was crushed under the toe of Jung Yeonshin's leather shoe.
It happened in an instant. The sound was like the ripping of a bundle of paper, and the strike landed directly on the center of Gal Do-jin's abdomen.
Boom!
"Gah—!"
The tremendous shock traveled through his bloodstream. The transmission speed was incredibly fast due to the unleashed energy of the Jung Clan's movement arts.
Jung Yeonshin felt it fully through his toes, all the way until Gal Do-jin opened his mouth wide and spat out bright red blood.
He quickly retracted his leg, narrowly avoiding getting his clothes stained.
To the onlookers, it appeared as a remarkably refined maneuver. Every movement seemed guided by lightning-like inspiration from the Baihui Acupoint.
Though swift, it didn't seem rushed. That was just his nature. Every action exuded the dignity of a high-ranking master.
"..."
The inn was in shock. The astonishment spread like ripples.
Some people dropped their spoons or sat with their mouths agape. A few hastily packed their belongings as if preparing to leave.
"They say even the battles of the lesser-skilled can be refreshing. Hmm?"
Jung Yeonshin casually ignored his own remark.
Slowly, he shifted his gaze, glancing at the trembling man beneath his right hand.
Even after prolonged interaction, the man showed no sign of guessing his identity.
This confirmed the effectiveness of his disguise. In the vast world of Murim, it was rare for anyone to recognize all the prominent figures of major sects.
The fact that illustrations of top-tier martial artists were considered classified documents also contributed to this.
The martial artists stationed at the Desolate Fortress, connected to official government agencies, were not ones to handle their duties carelessly.
He hadn't even used the signature martial arts representing Lightning Genius.
'My age could be a problem, so I need to ensure there's no connection.'
He had received instructions from Ma Jin after his mission was assigned. The advice had been delivered in writing.
— Avoid wearing face-concealing masks. They only draw the attention of sharp-eyed masters. Besides, you don't need one. If you act with a bit more boldness in your words and behavior, they'll assume you're a noble from a demonic sect like the Thirteen Celestial Demons. Both I and your grandfather were treated that way. I have many thoughts about this... but since this is a mission, I'm sticking to the facts. As your uncle and the head of the clan, I've observed you, Yeonshin, and you don't seem too different. Regardless, it suits the nature of someone from the main clan. Best of luck.
It was advice that made him tilt his head in slight confusion.
He didn't fully understand it, but he couldn't dismiss the counsel of the former leader of Radiant Demon Squad.
'Just follow my instincts.'
The uninvited guest naturally lifted his head, revealing a sharp jawline. The lantern's crimson glow cast a radiant hue over his features.
"Your name."
"So... So Yu-ryang."
The Young Hero of Xi'an stammered, trembling lips giving the response. His sworn brother, who had always seemed so strong, was now sprawled out in defeat. Meanwhile, the indifferent voice of someone his own age pierced his ears.
"So Yu-ryang of the Sublime Land Sect. Explain how you managed to master the Nine Yang Unified Arts of the Zhongnan Sect."
"If you came here alone, you won't escape death. This is not the way. The demonic martial world in Xi'an is vast and fierce, sharpened by the disputes over the spoils left after the Zhongnan Sect's downfall. Even if they fight among themselves, they unite quickly when someone from the outside invades. It means that the martial artists of the demonic faction will rally together."
So Yu-ryang was a prodigy of the demonic sects. Instead of succumbing to fear, he sought other means. He thought of solutions that orthodox sect disciples, with their rigid thinking, wouldn't consider.
He attempted persuasion.
He calmed his trembling lips and continued speaking slowly, his voice growing clearer.
"Yo... you've made a mistake. Dominating the martial world is something only the supreme masters can achieve. Especially in Xi'an's martial world, even exceptional masters can't hold their ground alone. You'd be safer if you became a guest of our sect..."
He wasn't wrong.
Many masters, even after achieving lofty heights, settled in favorable locations to establish new sects. Few chose to remain solitary.
Surviving alone in the wild world of Murim was difficult. This was also why a swordsman of wandering origins, despite attaining the pinnacle of martial arts, faced exclusion from the Hanzhong Murim Alliance.
Murim, too, was a world composed of people. The sect you belonged to was as important as individual prowess.
At that moment,
"Interesting. I've been watching, and what do we have here... a pathetic wretch."
The voice came from outside the inn, its lazy tone laced with irritation.
Screech—!
A section of the wall was split apart in the shape of a person. The overwhelming energy felt like someone had channeled sword intent through their entire body.
The thick wooden wall, reinforced by iron structures, was shattered in an instant. There wasn't even much of a tremor, only a cloud of dust rising in its wake.
The scent of alcohol suddenly spread through the air.
Step.
Someone walked through the hole in the wall.
Despite wearing an immaculate silk robe with not a speck of dust on it, the figure appeared disheveled. His long, unkempt hair added to that impression.
Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, giving him the appearance of a complete recluse. He smacked his lips slowly as if feeling an emptiness in his mouth, exuding an obsessive air of irritation.
The Lazy Flame Dragon opened his mouth slowly, chuckling at the sight of Gal Do-jin sprawled on the floor and So Yu-ryang seized by the hand.
"Looks like you've had quite the fun, haven't you?"
"..."
Whoosh—
The aura radiating from his entire body was terrifying. The inn's utensils rattled. The lanterns hanging nearby clanged against each other.
Though there was a large opening in the ceiling, the brief, chaotic noise echoed, forcing silence upon those around.
The people sitting at tables and those leaning on the railings upstairs all fell silent. They even stopped moving.
Into the fortified martial world of Xi'an, the Radiant Demon Squad had entered.
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