In a situation where one must carry out a grand act, the key was to strike quickly and withdraw.

And above all, one must not provoke the Divine Sword Corps. To the noble clans of the Murim — including the Great Pure Alliance — the blade of Ipwang Fortress had to remain solely pointed at Cheonhamok. The most fortunate outcome for the Central Plains was for Jeong Yeon-shin and the Lord of Ipwang Fortress to perish together.

No visitor to Ipwang Fortress should have been someone powerful enough to challenge them. If such a formidable individual emerged, it would be too difficult to subdue. Killing them might become the only recourse.

In such a precarious scenario, the reappearance of a sleeping swordmaster of unmatched caliber was a massive variable. The fact that someone as uncanny as Namgung Hwa-shin was still alive meant she remained one of the rare and deadly threats in the Murim. Just like the ever-strange bloodline of the violet-clad heirs of Ipwang Fortress.

"Suncheon Ik-ju, White Qilin..."

Gold Blade Lord Geum Min murmured, her voice tinged with the feeling of time’s transience.

Back when she was still earning her martial name in Hanam, Baek Girin had merely been a promising late-stage prodigy. Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t even have a name back then.

But now?

Without the two of them, Ipwang Fortress would fall.

The current of the Yangtze River was too fast to keep up with.

"Before all that."

The voice came from Gi Dae-seung, who was now leaning against one of the walls. He gestured with his chin toward the woman wearing a monocle — Lady of Nangseong, the wife of Lee Teum-je.

“Return the fugitive of the Main Fortress first.”

“What?”

“The vicious criminal who snuck in and still managed to leak information to you people about His Excellency entering the Main Fortress. I already experienced the elusive nature of the Great Pure Assassins that day, but to walk right back in like this? Do you take Ipwang Fortress for a joke?”

At the same time, a transparent blade wind surged with a whoosh. From Geum Min’s left side, it sliced toward the monocled woman with a flash.

Chaaak—

Her glass-like eyes widened. Her facial skin was ripped clean off.

It had come from the sleeve of the slumbering Namgung Hwa-shin. An exquisitely refined sword slash wave. It didn’t even leave a scratch on her real skin — only tore away the human-skin mask she had been wearing.

Lady Go belatedly covered her face with both hands.

“No...!”

Even with the inner energy mastery of the Three Flowers Gathering Essence, she couldn't react in time. Through her fingers, one could see a face bruised and blackened — so mangled it no longer resembled a human visage.

The marks were left by Mun Gok, one of the Six Original Star Lords.

This would deal a major blow to the authority of the Great Pure Alliance. She wasn’t just any Murim noble — she was to be a future queen.

Status requires status.

Thump.

Merely being grazed by that blade wind was enough to make Lady Go collapse in place, as if her body had crumbled inward.

She likely couldn’t stand again. Her body had only been held together by internal energy to begin with. For someone who wasn’t a fully trained cultivator or master, there was no surviving intact.

And yet, Namgung Hwa-shin, who unleashed the attack, still sat with her eyelids lowered. Her breaths shallow as ever — it was unclear whether she was even conscious.

It was truly bizarre.

Even the faded old Warlord at the round table opened his mouth to speak.

“Unconsciousness triumphing over consciousness...? She’s fit to be taken as a retainer. I can see now how diligently she lived.”

No one responded. Not only were the Simmuryun representatives silent, even Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol, the leader of Murong Sect, feigned disinterest.

Though it was a shocking sight, Gi Dae-seung simply remained silent with a stern face.

The Secretariat scribes of the Office of the Chief Administrator knew who this faded old warlord was — a man from the era when the Gate had opened.

The one who slaughtered the parents of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress during the transition from Yuan to Ming. The true master of the Eightfold Divine Art later learned by Sword Demon Baek Seo-goon. A being who, at his peak, had crushed the Southern Emperor (Amcheonje) single-handedly.

“We thought he was dead... the whole Murim believed it.”

So he had been surviving all this time using the Ghost Breath Technique, hidden in the same place where Baek Seo-goon had obtained the Eightfold Divine Art? Then what woke him up now? Likely the erratic movements of earth energy throughout the land.

Gi Dae-seung looked away from the faded warlord.

Naturally, his gaze shifted to Geum Min. She was the safer one to converse with. Besides, everyone else at the table seemed to defer to her implicitly.

Gi Dae-seung straightened his neck slightly.

“Lady Go of the Ghost Alliance unlawfully infiltrated the Main Fortress. Had she been imprisoned in Ma Family's dungeon, she would never have escaped.”

Geum Min smiled gently.

“You’re changing the subject. I heard that even Haeil Kwoncheon of the Ipwang Battlefield broke out during the Tyrant Seven God Faction’s Rebellion.”

“...”

“So then, who is using the Ma Dungeon now that such a major criminal wasn’t placed in it?”

“There’s no reason I need to answer that.”

Gi Dae-seung shook his head.

But Geum Min’s monochrome eyes gleamed brilliantly. Her lips moved again.

“Must be Ipwang Shinchang.”

“...”

“When the Divine Sword Corps returned from the north to Ipwang Fortress, they must have clashed with the warriors occupying this place. Among them would’ve been Wollyo, Lord of Shinyogwangjeokmun, and the Fist King, Lord of Cheonseong Palace. If such sword masters were captured and Ipwang Shinchang took charge of their custody, then her absence makes sense. She’s known for her eccentricity — believing herself still a child — and for her late-blooming strength. She may have turned the dungeon into her own training hall. After all, Ipwang Fortress can’t afford to waste even a single hand.”

The phrase late bloomer was laced with elegant sarcasm. In this chaotic era where strength was everything, few true masters held any respect for someone like Ak Su-rim, who remained idle.

Everything she said was true, and so Gi Dae-seung had no reply. The Gold Blade Lord’s insight into the upper dantian was terrifying.

Indeed, the Ma Dungeon had long been converted into Ak Su-rim’s closed-door training hall. Lord of Cheonseong, being a true martial soul, had voluntarily moved to another cell, always asking when Jeong Yeon-shin would return.

“Every hand counts... how true.”

With a somber expression, Gi Dae-seung was approached by the former Lord of the Eon Clan.

“Where did the Lord of Gaebong disappear to? I had hoped to chat with that friend — maybe to ease my boredom.”

“...He’s an elusive one. Always vanishing without a sound, like a rat or shadow.”

“And always with vast gold and treasures, I assume. Understood. I’ll go look for him myself.”

The former Eon Clan Lord moved. Rather than heading toward Namgung Hwa-shin, he blasted a hole through the wall and vanished. That carefree recklessness was the hallmark of his martial house.

It was then that the faded warlord spoke again. His gaze rose to Namgung Hwa-shin, and within his ashen eyes, a faint greed flickered.

“I’ve maintained appearances. May I leave now? I’d like to see the hall where the Lord of Ipwang Fortress conducted the grand rites.”

It was immediately clear: he wasn’t suppressed by Suncheon Ik-ju’s martial aura. He simply chose to respect the will of a rare talent.

Namgung Hwa-shin gave no answer.

Because she truly was asleep. Power gained too early always demands a price.

The faded warlord smiled quietly and rose to his feet, followed by Sword Demon Baek Seo-goon.

“Didn’t expect to play bodyguard in my old age. I’ll stop by before leaving.”

Step.

No one stopped the intruders. ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ They headed toward the central martial arena of Ipwang Fortress, calmly passing the shattered pavilions of the Seventeenth Palace as if out for a stroll.

Meanwhile, Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol questioned Gi Dae-seung again.

“You truly don’t know the whereabouts of the Lost Sword?”

“...How could a lowly scribe know the location of the former Divine Sword Corps Master? The man is as refined as a gold-dusted mirror.”

“Be serious. I told you — I have no intention of harming civilians. Unless it’s martial skill, I care for nothing else.”

“If you want the Divine Sword Master, wait for Lord Jeong. He’ll return soon, and I assure you, he’ll be delighted to meet you.”

“I’ve no personal grudge with him.”

“But you did say you wanted to duel the Divine Sword Master, didn’t you?”

“You slow-witted fellow, I told you — no grudge.”

Central Martial Arena.

A massive rectangular marble platform stood tall — the ceremonial platform. It had hosted promotion ceremonies, formation drills, and even rare banquets.

Now, it was desolate.

The marble of the Main Fortress rarely collected dust, no matter how strong the wind blew. As always, it only reflected the figures seated atop it with crystal clarity.

There used to be times when the Lord of Ipwang Fortress would rest beneath the shade of the cypress trees at the edge of the martial arena. But now, that same shade served only as a canopy for uninvited guests. Even with the faded Warlord's ominous presence still turning the skies above into a ghostly gray.

Such were the days of disorder.

The sky was bitterly overcast.

A goddamn nightmare.

Gi Dae-seung felt anew the absurdity of it all. The Main Fortress was being violated without a single casualty. How long could they endure this?

It was then that Sword Demon Baek Seo-goon quietly parted his lips.

"I heard what you discussed with the Lord of Gaebong. Said this humiliation wouldn’t be repeated — when do you plan to show what you’ve prepared?"

“...”

“You must’ve predicted Suncheon Ik-ju would make a move. You must’ve had something to rely on. A disgraced Elder, an armless Ma Clan Lord, a Yullyeong Master who came back crippled from the North, and perhaps the only one still capable — the Heavenly Dragon Lord... That’s hardly a lineup worthy of the so-called greatest sect in the world. So why did you let us in without resistance?”

Spoken like the madman who once claimed to be Jeong Yeon-shin’s wet nurse. It came off like: if you’ve got something, you’d better show it now.

“Yangyang is home to Ipwang Fortress,” Gi Dae-seung replied. “Unlike during the Great Ipwang War, there are civilians nearby now. We can’t let them suffer from your rampage.”

"You can’t even grasp the bigger picture. A true fool."

"That’s what swordsmen are — fools who neglect their own bowl of rice. And if such fools don’t lose to the greedy, only then will the world begin to change."

He continued speaking, as if laying down his very life.

“Instead, let me ask you — why haven’t you taken His Excellency and left? Why linger in the heart of the Main Fortress like this?”

Baek Seo-goon didn’t respond. Instead, the faded Warlord smiled faintly.

“Because we won’t stoop to being mere thieves. We’ll wait a full day and night for your leader to arrive — then take what we came for.”

That old-fashioned language, and the expression that vanished along with the smile — he thought along different lines entirely. Like one of those old Central Plains nobles who treated honor as their very life before the famines came.

Old customs of old men... He really is the Fortress Lord’s enemy.

The message was clear: he no longer intended to speak with Gi Dae-seung. Arrogance, pure and simple.

“I’d like to return to the matter of Ipwang Shinchang.”

Gold Blade Lord Geum Min again. It always came back to her. The Simmuryun Lord, Gun Wi-hu, sat completely still, as if stripped of authority, while his successor, Gun Yu-rin, seemed to defer to her master in everything.

“We’ve been here this long, and still you’re the only one to respond to us. The Warlord let it slide for the sake of decorum, but I want to know the truth.”

Then, Geum Min asked briefly:

“Is Senior Shinchang refining the Jeong Family Body Transformation Technique?”

It felt like asking about a strategic weapon from the Great Shield War. That’s how revered the Jeongga Donggong had become in today’s Murim world.

She muttered to herself:

“It wouldn’t be surprising if a strange absolute formation is installed there... and if she’s receiving support from it...”

Gun Yu-rin, who had once traveled with Jeong Yeon-shin, let out a smile. She had seen that transformed body up close, forged through the Jeongga Donggong — how could she not?

"Even if others can’t, Shinchang?"

Some cultivators don’t just study secret manuals — they dive into them like readers losing themselves in legendary tales. Their depth of immersion determines their level of mastery.

There are even those who claim to hear the voice of the grandmaster who authored the secret technique. When that happens, it’s considered the making of great achievement.

The elderly can’t do that.

Which is why martial training must begin in youth. Adults dwell within their own completed worlds. That’s also why major sects only take children as disciples.

“She’s not a young monster like Yeouicheon Lord, and she’s been stagnant for decades. And now she’s supposed to master a new divine technique? Doubtful.”

“I understand your meaning. If you're placing your hopes on Shinchang’s emergence, well... I suppose we should be thankful.”

Geum Min parted her lips calmly.

“The dignity of Ipwang Fortress will likely hinge on today. If you can drive us out within the time given by the Warlord, then indeed this disgrace will not repeat. But if the response is weak, you’ll no longer be fit to be called the Greatest Sect Under Heaven.”

“That’s enough. I’ve heard enough.”

Gi Dae-seung rose from his seat and slowly walked toward the Office of the Chief Administrator. At the same time, he sent long-range sound transmissions to stop the enraged Ma Clan Lord Ma Jin and the Heavenly Dragon Lord Wi Ji-geuk from acting out.

— Please help Lord Jeong rest as soon as he sets foot in the Main Fortress. No matter how strong they are, they will soon be honored guests at his coronation.

Jeong Yeon-shin needed to rest.

He had pushed himself too hard. If he returned only to face yet another ruined Main Fortress, that would not do. Seomye, Lord of Ipwang Fortress, must be the one man in this chaotic world who lived in peace.

Seated, gazing down upon the world.

Where a few words from his lips shape grand order.

That’s a realm of a different class.

Jeongan — the Divine Eye.

As Gi Dae-seung arrived at the desolate Office of the Chief Administrator, his eyes shimmered with a deep green glow.

He was still certain. All these recent events were nothing more than part of the grand process to appoint the new Lord of Ipwang Fortress, and to prepare the next Divine Sword Corps Master.

In truth, Gi Dae-seung should have been preparing for Jeong Yeon-shin’s enthronement all along. He too had lost himself.

Creaaak.

He pressed down on the spot where Im Jin-myeong once sat, and from the distant Ma Gwang-ik Pavilion, a faint rumble echoed in response.

“...It’s intact.”

He murmured.

Completely immersed — beyond self, beyond thought.