The mountain landscape was desolate.
The wind swept through the forest. It was atop an unusually gentle hill among the towering peaks of the canyon.
Green blades of grass swayed in random directions. Despite the breath of winter creeping in, they had not lost their color.
"..."
The notices had been posted extensively. There was no one who hadn't seen them.
—The group that had subdued the Seven Great Sects had challenged the Tyrant Sword Tribe to battle.
This was no ordinary notice. It was directly aimed at the Elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
The words, written smoothly yet boldly, openly mentioned the parents of the tribe, leaving many speechless. Some even turned away in haste.
Voices murmured everywhere.
Most of them spoke of sheer insanity.
Heaven Beyond Heaven.
That was what the uppermost echelon of the martial world, including the Tyrant Sword Tribe, was called. A sky beyond the sky.
No one dared to lay a hand on the paper.
The entire grand city of Xi'an was in an uproar.
Countless eyes were drawn to this very peak.
"The one who swept away the seven sect leaders in a single strike."
"How do they plan to deal with the Ghost Spirit Sword? That being isn't even human."
There were many onlookers.
Every peak was filled with hidden presences, like a military ambush. The thick yet lifeless pine needles rustled as people concealed themselves within them.
This was different from when the Seven Great Sects had been annihilated. Martial artists had flocked here from all over.
For some, simply witnessing this moment might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For others, the chance to see Yeo So-hyang, who once stood alongside the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan, was an irresistible draw.
To see a transcendent warrior emerge even once in a lifetime was rare.
"There, over there!"
"Waaaah!"
The moment a small black speck emerged in the sky, even cries of excitement rang out. They came from those who had not suffered at the hands of the Demonic Faction.
At last, the tyrannical celestial being descended. All eyes turned skyward.
Whooooooosh—!
A piercing sound, like a ghost's wail, grew louder as it tore through the air. It was as though a divine general from the heavenly realm was descending.
The sheer resonance of the impact from the high heavens was overwhelming.
'How noisy.'
Standing alone on the hill, Jung Yeonshin activated the radiance of his heart.
As energy surged from his wrists, his dark sleeves billowed violently.
Saaak!
From both hands, silver threads shot forth. With a faint tactile sensation, they wrapped around the pine trees within a ten-zhang radius.
These were sword strings obtained as spoils of war, numbering in the dozens. They twisted around each other and tightened firmly.
It was as if he had crafted a guqin using nature itself.
The Radiant Demon Squad's leader gracefully leapt onto the golden threads. At the same time, a peculiar resonance spread beneath his feet.
Ding—
It was the harmony of internal energy. The immense power imbued within the sword strings vibrated in fine strands, sending deep and clear echoes throughout the forest.
The gazes that had been fixed on the sky gradually turned toward Jung Yeonshin, yet he paid no heed to the sunlight as he lifted his head.
He was unaware that he had created a rare, mystical sight.
He simply took it all in.
He could see.
A lone figure stepping down from the air upon a single sword.
An old woman, her ears as sharply pointed as a blade's edge. Her presence alone was sharper than belief could allow.
She was shrouded in a colorless, devastating sword aura, and the force emanating from her made the air itself groan.
A hissing sound, like the cry of a serpent, echoed ceaselessly. It was clear why she bore the name Ghost Spirit Sword.
Her left sleeve billowed, empty. Yet her presence remained unshaken. There was none of the distorted balance typical of a one-armed swordsman.
Though her left Hand Yangming Large Intestine Meridian had been severed entirely by the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan, diminishing her martial prowess, she lived up to the name of the Tyrant Sword Tribe. Her entire being had become a divine sword.
"You there, that notice."
The old woman, standing upon her sword, moved her wrinkled lips.
"Did you write it?"
She did not descend completely. She remained three zhang above the ground. The sword beneath her feet appeared almost like a throne.
With her hands behind her back, she gazed down at Jung Yeonshin, radiating the aura of one who had accumulated vast years of experience. Her dignity was built upon countless years of accumulated arrogance.
Jung Yeonshin understood immediately.
She had once stepped into the domain of the purple rank.
Otherwise, this presence made no sense. Even with a deteriorated martial art, she exuded overwhelming pressure.
The sword aura flowing from Yeo So-hyang naturally reached Jung Yeonshin's breath.
It wavered sharply. Ever since she had arrived, it had persistently grated against the protective energy on his face.
"I wrote what was dictated to me. Every word was true, was it not?"
Jung Yeonshin answered indifferently, though he had no great expectations. The perception arts of renowned warriors were adept at distinguishing truth.
It had been the same with Chung Myung. The Elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe would be no different. What truly troubled him was that Heon Wonchang had written his alias on the notice without alteration.
Ghost Spirit Sword Yeo So-hyang's eyes flickered with fury.
"A lie. However…"
Suddenly, the sword beneath Yeo So-hyang shot upward like a bolt of light and landed in her grasp. Sword Control.
One who flew upon a sword would, of course, master the technique of wielding it with will.
Even with one hand, she held it firm, as though her entire weight had shifted to the sword, allowing her to hover unwaveringly. Her lips trembled.
"You bear responsibility as well."
In that instant, the compressed energy within her sword formed a second blade.
It encased her entire sword.
Whooooooong!
The treasured sword in her wrinkled grip resonated violently. In an instant, the intangible greatsword swept downward, toward another peak, where the gathered onlookers stood.
Jung Yeonshin instinctively recognized the unfolding of one of the Three Great Secret Arts he had heard of from Zhuge Hyeon.
Loyal Severance Desolation-Cleaving Sword Art—Shattered Thunder.
The air before him warped.
Kwaaaaaang!
Yeo So-hyang's condensed energy exploded outward in a linear slash. The trajectory it carved through the sky burned colorlessly as it struck the middle of the peak.
The rock face shattered with a thunderous crack. A wave of intangible force erupted.
In that instant.
The peak, which had held hundreds of people, was severed entirely. A massive dust cloud arose, casting an unnatural haze over the scene.
The enormous severed rock face slid downward, crumbling, scattering debris.
Kuguguguung!
Screams erupted. They rang with terror, squeezed from throats hoarse with panic.
Powerless to resist.
It was a calamity.
People tumbled off cliffs, ripped from their footholds. Those clutching tree roots plunged along with the severed peak.
It was hell. A deep, dull sound echoed from the distant earth. In a single sword stroke, countless lives were thrown into chaos.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Faster than light.
"The vermin who swarmed to that paper, thinking it righteous to disgrace our leader. You are nothing but insects."
Ghost Spirit Sword Yeo So-hyang spoke, her aged voice settling in eerie tranquility.
At the very moment of her slash, Jung Yeonshin's sword threads had brushed past her feet. A noble evasion. She had ascended even higher in midair.
The treasured sword in her grasp once again lowered beneath her feet. It was an utterly mystical sight.
"To slaughter all these mongrels comes first. As for you…"
She stood regally upon the blade, her gaze upon Jung Yeonshin as cold as ice.
It was the gaze of a master who had ruled from the peak for an eternity. Even as she slowly parted her lips, her words carried immense weight.
"Your execution shall be slow, ever so slow."
"Shut up, you decrepit wretch."
Jung Yeonshin quickly scanned his surroundings with his senses.
Rage surged within his chest, searing his heart infused with radiance.
One must not treat slaughter so lightly. The lives of commoners should exist outside the realm of the martial world.
Jung Yeonshin had wielded his sword in pursuit of the World Tree's fruit, solely to extend his own dwindling life.
Yet now, how many lifelines were being severed upon that distant cliff? Each one weighed the same as his own.
Kugugugung—!
Another peak was severed diagonally and tumbled down. A place he could not reach in time.
'Can I handle this?'
Jung Yeonshin's gaze darkened.
Along with Zhuge Hyeon, he had carefully assessed Yeo So-hyang's strength.
Her left arm had been severed in the great battle against the Zhongnan Sect, her force arts weakening by the day, her aging body distancing her further from her prime… He had thought she would not be as formidable as her reputation suggested.
But now, facing her directly, it was different. He could feel it.
He had failed to properly perceive her sword strike. Tyrant Sword. The epitome of the sword arts pursued by the Demonic Faction. Her ability to summon energy and release sword techniques was astonishingly fast.
Her sword force was overwhelming, evoking memories of Thousand Fist Dragon Force Minister Xiahou Wei-Jin.
Her reputation had long spread across the vast expanse of the world. A transcendent swordsman capable of severing mountain peaks.
Even if Radiant Arts Secret was well-suited against her, if he could not read her attacks, it would be useless. In his current state, he could not win.
At once, all his thoughts condensed into a single line.
—I will complete it here.
Quickly, now.
He would take advantage of the time this arrogant elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe had foolishly handed to him.
'Sight Arts…'
Jung Yeonshin's innate talent responded. A gift nourished by consuming his own lifespan. When truly needed, it had always answered ferociously.
Now, he felt as though he could do it. The wind brushing against his skin felt different than before. A refreshing sense of omnipotence. A familiar yet strangely exhilarating sensation.
Just before closing his eyes—
A flash of sky-blue flickered in his vision.
Huuuup—
With an inhalation, his consciousness sank inward.
He dove deep. Recalling everything he had seen.
He had expanded his knowledge through the Comprehensive Overview of Destruction within the Alliance, had experienced the tempered body of Eternal Heaven Sword Demon Baek Seo-gun.
Returning to his roots, he had exchanged wisdom with elder masters. The world of martial arts was truly vast.
He had come to realize how diverse the ways of wielding one's body could be, with leader Jin of the Blood Preservation Squad playing a particularly significant role.
He had even observed the body of his grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok, while reversing his aging process.
He compared it to the body of the contemporary leader of the Divine Sword Order, whom he had examined while in his blue-rank days. He had traced the flow of energy in the bodies of peerless grandmasters, untouchable beings.
It was all insight.
Now, Jung Yeonshin's understanding was both broad and deep.
'I need to establish the image that will become the foundation of my martial path.'
Absorbing all of it in an instant, like lightning.
A resolve to completely decipher it.
Thump—
In this extreme moment, Yeo So-hyang's sword strike and his current state of mind interwove into inspiration.
A sharp, chilling sensation struck the crown of his head. Within his heart, the wheel of light spun furiously.
'I have to stop that old hag. If I don't completely shatter every single one of her sword techniques, even victory would be no different from defeat. I don't need all-around vision. I need an eye technique that will grant me absolute dominance over whatever is directly in front of me. A method that will allow me to break through even superior masters.'
The eyes of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, who sought to protect the people of the world.
The waves of Radiant Arts Secret surged toward his head. Warm energy filled the meridians around it.
From his face to his eyes, the acupoints Si Bai, Zan Zhu, Yin Tang burned with inner energy.
A dense ripple of energy spread from his face. A new network of nerves was forming.
Whoooooong—!
From the slits of his eyelids, streaks of blue energy began to leak out.
The structure of his inner energy had long since been woven into mnemonics. All that was left was to sharpen the outline of his martial art.
He infused those floating insights into his mnemonic verses. His innate talent transformed into light within his mind, surging through his entire body.
In this era, the Radiant Demon Squad's leader was a grandmaster. The mnemonics and understanding that had fused in an instant were kneaded freely in his grasp, birthing an unprecedented sight technique.
A vision forged with the intent to crush all obstacles in sight.
'I shall name this Revealing the Wretched…'
His entire eyeballs burned. Every flow converged at the Baihui Acupoint atop his crown.
'I will make this the way I see the world.'
The waves of radiant energy flooded into his head.
Complete convergence.
Flash—!
The upper dantian of his brain ignited in azure flames.
It felt as if lightning had pierced through his crown. Within the brilliant blue light, an unobstructed, fluid flow was woven.
A fixed energy structure, ceaselessly circulating between his optic nerves and the Baihui Acupoint. In this instant, without warning, an unrivaled sight arts was born.
Jung Yeonshin immediately opened his eyes.
And then, he spoke.
—The Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader ruthlessly cut down my father. Perhaps it is because they never received proper teachings from their own parents. Maybe their nanny's lessons were woefully inadequate.
His voice, imbued with radiance, echoed far and wide.
He had borrowed Heon Wonchang's method, and its effect was undeniable.
Fwaaaaaah!
A gust of wind wildly tousled Jung Yeonshin's hair. Ghost Spirit Sword Yeo So-hyang had returned in an instant, stepping upon her sword once more. The speed of her Sword Control Flight was truly terrifying.
As the faintly brown pine needles swirled in the air around them, the old woman, hands behind her back, looked down at Jung Yeonshin.
"You rush to meet death. Were you so eager to be cut down in a single stroke?"
Jung Yeonshin met her gaze calmly, placing his hand upon the silver sword waves of the Beiming.
"Worry about your own karma. You are nothing more than a wretched demonic crone destined for hell."
"..."
Yeo So-hyang's lips twisted.
"You impudent brat, you possess not only a sharp tongue but also those strange eyes. Tell me, what is it you see right now?"
"Everything about you."
The eyes of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader flashed with an intense, piercing blue light.
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