“Who are you?”

That was the girl’s first question.

It sounded almost innocent at a glance—she didn’t look older than ten at most. But she didn’t carry the air of a child from a noble family.

Just moments earlier, she had used one of the Six Grand Palm Techniques of the Martial World with her maple-leaf-like hands. A girl who could wield both demonic energy and orthodox inner force at once—she could only be considered a supernatural being.

“These days, there aren’t many palm techniques more famous than Hwangang’s... If she can use it like that at her age, wouldn’t she be the top martial prodigy among children? When I was her age, I was just tearing up schoolbooks.”

As Yeon So-ha seriously debated the title of Best Among Children, Hyeon Won-chang carefully approached Jeong Hye, his face bright with joy beneath the Hero’s Mask.

“Hey, Jongcheon-dong, you’ve grown all proud, haven’t you? It’s me—Hyeon Won of Ipwang Fortress.”

“Take off your disguise.”

Hyeon Won-chang’s face twisted in shock.

Beside him, Jeong Jung-san, who had been staring blankly at Mun Gok, jumped and exclaimed,

“Hye-a, you’re not supposed to say that until you’ve nearly beaten someone to death...!”

At the same time, Yeon So-ha turned to Jeong Yeon-shin and asked,

“This is the Zhongnan Sect, right?”

“...Looks like a lot’s happened while we were gone.”

Jeong Yeon-shin walked past Yeon So-ha and the Seventh Apostle.

The Seventh Apostle was already smoothing down her black robe and silk-like hair with her fingertips—even before Jeong Hye had fully unleashed her Hwangang energy.

“Niece? Foster girl...? What a pretty flow of energy...”

She murmured strange phrases like she was practicing lines.

It was an age of chaos.

Jeong Yeon-shin moved Mun Gok’s thigh aside and faced his blood relatives.

For some reason, it wasn’t Jeong Hye but his second eldest brother Jeong Jung-san who first caught his eye.

Back then, I only ever saw Hye-a...

A young man with bold features, dressed in plain martial garb.

Now a swordsman of the Zhongnan Sect.

His cheeks bore all kinds of scars—some even cut into his gums. Among them, the wound on his lips twisted as soon as his eyes met Jeong Yeon-shin’s. His great shock overcame the fear he held toward Mun Gok.

“Yeon-shin? How are you even...?!”

“The Master of Ipwang doesn’t radiate killing intent like raw meat, unlike you, Uncle...”

Jeong Hye’s words trailed off. Her large eyes had just captured the sight of Jeong Yeon-shin. Soon, moisture welled up at the corners.

When she finally threw her arms around her uncle’s leg, Jeong Yeon-shin turned to greet Jeong Jung-san.

“Are you alright? You don’t look like you’ve been doing well.”

“How are you even in the Central Plains...?”

He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Even if he had stumbled upon a desert mirage, he wouldn’t have been more surprised.

Jeong Jung-san’s reaction was proof of how the martial world of the Central Plains perceived them—those from the Divine Sword Corps who had gone north were considered already dead, pushed out of sight and mind.

It wasn’t strange. North of the Great Wall was a Demon Realm that couldn’t be pacified even by the power of an entire nation.

Jeong Yeon-shin quietly asked,

“What about Great Hero Wei Ji?”

He already knew the answer, having sensed the path up the mountain. Only two familiar energies lingered in the old halls—Dan-ae Sword and Grand Elder Yeo Il-shin.

Those two had fought the monsters during the destruction of the Jeong Family. Naturally, Jeong Yeon-shin could never forget them.

Even so, Wei Ji Myo-hwa—the Sect Leader of Zhongnan—came first. He was one of the few who could still mobilize the disciples of Zhongnan.

If the entire Qinling Mountains truly were the tomb of the First Heavenly Demon...

If So Cheonmujuk had used it to orchestrate something...

We must seal the Zhongnan mountain path.

To keep commoners from climbing the mountain in search of power born from the Heavenly Demon’s legacy.

It was an era ruled by strength.

Even if one managed to store food, the strong would steal it.

Even those who obtained sustenance became targets for stronger warriors.

It was a literal martial forest. Even commoners were taking up sickles and plows to become fighters—truly, an age of chaos.

They had seen and dealt with such situations while traveling from the Northern Capital to Shaanxi.

Rumors about Jeong Yeon-shin and the Divine Sword Corps had begun to spread, but few in the martial world believed them yet.

“The Sect Leader went to speak with the elders of Mount Hua...”

Jeong Jung-san trailed off, having accidentally revealed something close to a sect-level secret.

Jeong Yeon-shin instead smiled.

“I was rude to a disciple of Zhongnan.”

“Uh, huh...?”

“If you’d truly been initiated into the sect, that was the right response. If you’d answered all the way just because I asked, I would’ve been worried. I’m relieved.”

“You—are you really Yeon-shin?”

Without saying a word, Jeong Yeon-shin patted the head of his niece Jeong Hye, who came up to his waist, then quietly whispered via voice transmission:

—Take your second uncle back to the main sect grounds. Your youngest uncle will follow with your sect leader.

—You’re not my uncle—you’re my Master.

Perhaps because of what he’d just said to Jeong Jung-san, Jeong Hye replied that way before slipping off Jeong Yeon-shin’s pant leg. Her every movement bore traces of a rough martial life.

Rustle.

Without even looking back, she began ascending the mountain with Jeong Jung-san.

It was clear what had made her strong.

The martial world’s recent disdain toward even the Zhongnan Sect was the reason.

Mun Gok smiled faintly as he watched Jeong Hye’s back.

“I also have children, but bloodlines truly are mysterious.

Sometimes what you think came from the father actually came from the mother.”

“Where is your wife?”

The question felt strangely unfamiliar to Jeong Yeon-shin.

Who would’ve guessed he’d ever have a conversation like this with the giant Mun Gok?

Mun Gok’s reply was succinct.

“She passed. Starved to death.”

“Starved...?”

“It happened while I was away from my territory. Well, what do you think drove the martial artists of the Demon Realm to bang on the Great Wall so desperately?”

“...I’m sorry.”

“She was my wife, yes, but truly a remarkable friend. Even with great strength, she held herself with dignity. A true warrior, in every sense of the word.”

His tone was calm, devoid of visible emotion, yet it carried profound weight.

Mun Gok then turned to Jeong Yeon-shin.

“This Mount Zhongnan seems to have become another Demon Realm. I’ll guard the entrance. Go tend to your business.”

“We’ll stay nearby, too. It’s a big mountain—lots of hidden paths.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Yeon So-ha said, and Hyeon Won-chang gave a nod in the direction Jeong Hye had taken.

“They dared speak lightly of the Grand Elder of Zhongnan.

On this beautiful spring day, it’s not new buds that sprout—but filthy weeds.

We need defenses now more than ever.”

The Divine Sword Corps warriors, including Oh Wol-hyang the one-armed swordswoman and April Palace Ghost Wi Ye-ryeong, were already surveying the edges of the mountain.

All ten or so blue-rank warriors were seasoned and composed in every word and gesture.

“From that ridge, the view opens up wide.

Also... that girl—she does resemble you, Master.”

“I’m going this way.

Besides, Hwangang learned from White Swallow too, right?

So who’s the real successor?”

With Mun Gok and the Divine Sword Corps alone, they could defend the entire Zhongnan Sect grounds.

Who knew how that would appear to the martial world?

“I’ll be back soon.”

Jeong Yeon-shin gently patted Shin So-bin’s shoulder, then took a single step forward.

That step was so fast even to himself that his movement blurred like a mirage.

Every step followed the insights of the Divine Light Beggar King—Joo Gwang-shin.

The only thing that could faintly keep up was the Asin Stepping Method of the Bloodflame Cult.

At least, for now.

Rustle.

The Seventh Apostle vanished like a fluttering picnic cloth of black silk.

“......”

Shin So-bin remained quietly in place.

The spring breeze mixed with dusty soil slowly circled the mountain path, then scattered.

***

The dusty wind on the ridgeline didn’t sweep up new buds—it swept up people.

On a land where even green shoots were hard to find, the mountain slopes were filled only with black hair. Just as Ipwang’s Divine Hero had said.

Hyeon Won-hyung is never wrong.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought, as if piercing into a gale, cutting through the air. The scenery spread below his feet was just that desolate—and at the same time, chaotic.

The place was overflowing with martial artists.

“Where the hell did the Lord of the Ming Sect disappear to...?”

“Even if we find him, what could we do with such a monstrous being?”

“Just look at the old masters of the martial world who’ve climbed all the way ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) here from Posado! Even if he were the Heavenly Demon and not So Cheonmujuk, he wouldn’t take this place lightly!”

“Every kind of riffraff’s gathered here.”

“East Route is mine! If anyone dares follow like rats even after seeing the heads I’ve claimed, I’ll gladly share blades! What else is true freedom of the martial world?! Let us pay tribute to the fallen Wilderness Annihilators who died alongside the Divine Sword Corps...!”

“Disciples, over here! We’re heading to the pond!”

There were even martial artists scattered about who clearly weren’t in their right minds, but the atmosphere of the mountain range made that seem natural.

The air was violently sharp, ready to explode.

Even when some lunatic talking about Wilderness Annihilation was suddenly turned into a mess of blood and flesh, it didn’t stir much commotion.

That’s how many experts there were.

The present-day Qinling Mountains.

Not only the martial nobles who had long flaunted their influence in various regions, but even the hidden hermits said to be impossible to find were now swarming in.

All were eccentric prodigies of the martial world.

Though as numerous as the sands of the South Sea, most were unknown to the world.

Many had reached the level of a master using nothing more than the cultivation techniques declared by the Imperial Court, but for various reasons had toiled in farming—now, finally beginning to display their strength.

And even among them, there were truly insignificant people.

Even Jeong Yeon-shin couldn’t count them all at a glance.

It was as if black sprouts had erupted from the barren mountain slopes of famine.

If even a fraction of that crowd turned toward Mount Zhongnan...

A natural disaster would follow immediately.

Even for the Master of the Divine Sword Corps, experienced in the martial world, this was an unprecedented event. The sheer scale of the mountain slope made it feel meaningless.

Despite the prolonged famine, the Imperial Court had no proper measures, the Imperial Army had failed to do its part, and the martial world that had been imprisoned in Ipwang Fortress had now been set free.

The whole world had risen up.

As Jeong Yeon-shin stepped over cliff after cliff, he began to feel the absence of Yong Hee-myeong and Ma Yeon-jeok.

As the now solitary Master of the Divine Sword Corps, what he had to shoulder might not just be formidable foes—but the entire world.

No... not alone.

Suddenly, a sly presence followed beside him.

Whether intentional or not, a breath of air tickled his ear.

“I came back.”

“Don’t kill anyone at random. Think twice before drawing your blade. I’ll do the same from now on.”

“What if I die because of that?”

“...I’ll avenge you.”

Jeong Yeon-shin tried to add, if you die while walking the path of a hero, but failed.

For some reason, the lips of the Seventh Apostle, gently rising behind his back, looked more pale than red.

Even the fine hairs on his neck bristled a little—it was a problem when one’s senses were that sharp.

By that point, the two had reached the foot of Huashan’s Yundae Peak.

The cliffs, carved as brilliantly as the nature of Plum Blossom Swordmasters, came into view first.

Bathed in the soft light of a slowly setting sun, the mountain looked sculpted out of twilight.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought,

Yu Hyeon is probably still on his way.

He had heard from his comrades in the Divine Sword Corps after the Great Rotation of the Dark Path.

Yu Hyeon had gone back south, taking the heavily injured Head of Jeomchang Sect—also known as the Sword Queen, Geum Seon-seon—back to the Central Plains.

While the Divine Sword Corps moved north to Yeokru Fortress, Yu Hyeon and a few others, including Jegal Cheong-ah, had gone the opposite way.

―Why would he die?

That was said to be the line Yu Hyeon left behind.

But by now, Jeong Yeon-shin and the Divine Sword Corps would’ve already passed them.

It was originally a group filled with talents from established orthodox sects—but Jeong Yeon-shin doubted he’d live long enough to see them again.

Rang-rang will be worried.

Just as he thought of Yulha Nangnang, Head of Huashan Sect, familiar voices began to reach his ears.

A middle-aged man and a young woman’s voices.

“Those who will participate in the Grand Gathering have been decided. They say if the Sect Leader of Zhongnan joins them, it will be the final flourish. He’ll arrive at the main sect soon.”

“I’ve come for a more urgent matter. About this sect... and the senior members of Huashan.”

Huashan’s Sword Master Cheon Ju-jin and Zhongnan’s Sect Leader Wi Ji-myohwa.

Jeong Yeon-shin could recognize them by breathing alone.

He had once shared deep bonds with both.

Flap!

Jeong Yeon-shin leapt high, stepping on air like a staircase.

The inner view of Yundae Peak spread beneath his feet.

“Sect Leader Wi Ji, I hope you understand there was great opposition to welcoming you here. Huashan, like Zhongnan, is a sect of long history. To open such a place to outsiders, we must gain permission from the elders above the level of Sect Leader. That was the hardest part.”

“I know it’s impolite, but I had to see it with my own eyes. To confirm how far Huashan has been pushed...There are even rumors.”

“What rumors do you speak of?”

“That Huashan plans to take out the senior masters hidden within here... and turn them into the full force of the sect.”

“Know your place!”

“The Sect Leaders of Zhongnan have always discussed this matter with Huashan’s. If it’s a question Sword Master cannot answer, I will summon those within and ask them myself—whether the rumors are true.”

“They are those who dwell in the clouds. Even if you cry out their names, they will not respond. And more than that—Elder Bindo is already struggling to contain their displeasure at your discourtesy. Please, let it end here.”

Two Daoist immortals standing before a strange mist.

The snow-white fog had pooled like a lake—and even the old immortals of the Nine Schools who had achieved Samhwa Concentration dared not approach.

At most, they conversed from ten paces away.

Jeong Yeon-shin instinctively knew:

The Gate.

At last.

He was staring directly at its form.

“......”

For a moment, all the affairs of the Central Plains faded from Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind.

He stomped lightly on air and stopped midair, slowly placing his hand on the hilt of the Divine Sword.

From all around, countless energies could be felt.

Just as Sword Master Cheon had said—heroes from all across the martial world were climbing the mountain range.

[Vast Grand Ultimate.]

But in that moment, the only thing reflected in the Divine Sword Master’s eyes was the gate—gathered like snow and clouds.

He gave no thought to any consequence.

[Enter the Way Together, Cross Over Together.]