“She’s the right choice.”

At that moment, the Divine Sword superimposed over Jin Myeong-jo’s eyes was none other than a phantom conjured by Jeong Yeon-shin’s own longing. An unmistakable spirit, the kind befitting a sword of the nation. A man who could shoulder the weight of much, and more.

Everyone already knew. Jeong Yeon-shin’s admiration for the Blood-Returning Star. And surely, they recognized Jin Myeong-jo in kind. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Yet personal affection could not be allowed to interfere with a decision of such gravity.

“She wouldn’t accept it anyway.”

He knew this because he had learned it. The firm refusals of the Divine Sword Corps Commander were always born from humility.

The title of Divine Sword Corps Leader must fall to the most worthy candidate. Just as Jeong Yeon-shin had once appointed Yong Hui-myeong to that position in the shortest time possible.

Jeong Yeon-shin finally opened his mouth, slowly.

“Senior Ak.”

The woman with long hair met his gaze.

The world seemed distant from her, out of sync with the sudden stir caused by Jeong Yeon-shin calling her name. Her eyes, like polished obsidian, absorbed the surrounding light.

A side effect of her constant internal discipline.

Even Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t fully know what abilities might now reside within her body, now that she bore the name Mongbi.

It was undoubtedly Jeong Yeon-shin who had created the Jeong Family’s Internal Technique: Mongbi Edition — a method tailored entirely to her, piece by piece, after observing and analyzing Ak Su-rim’s body down to the last fiber. Every phrase of the manual was crafted to match her meridians and musculature perfectly.

And that was precisely why it was now hard to see through her.

Just like Master Beomheo had once said.

A master who had spent decades with only the basics, and had then stacked the Mongbi Edition atop that tower of hardship to forge this body—

“Her very flesh has become martial truth.”

Of course it was unreadable.

Then it happened.

After silently locking eyes with Jeong Yeon-shin for a few moments, Ak Su-rim’s lips began to move slowly.

“Speak, Fortress Lord.”

“...I wish to put it to a vote.”

“A vote...?”

“On her suitability.”

Is she fit or unfit to become Divine Sword Corps Leader?

A soft inhale was heard from one side — Shin Seol-ha of the Ipwang Shin Clan. She had just been glaring disapprovingly at Shin So-bin for wrinkling his black robe in his clenched fist when she was caught off guard.

The reactions among the other senior members were similar. Then, a voice — the only uncle present, Ma Jin of the Ipwang Ma Clan — spoke solemnly into the hush:

“You’re judging this with clear discernment?”

“What did you just say...?”

“General Commander, please proceed.”

Jeong Yeon-shin wasn’t entirely sure whether he had just been dismissed or recognized in his authority as Fortress Lord. But Im Jin-myeong’s mouth was already moving.

“Ipwang Divine Spear Mongbi, Senior Ak’s record is well known to everyone here.”

Personnel review. Immediate.

The sudden scent of ink wafted through the air. Sheets of paper flew from Im Jin-myeong’s hand to the round table — the personnel files of Ak Su-rim, compiled under Jeong Yeon-shin’s own authority.

– Entered as a White Rank under Paehyeop, Commander of the Light Blade Squad. Promoted to Blue Rank within the year. Completed fifteen missions, no failures.

– In her second year, clashed with her commander. Transferred under the direct command of the disbanded Divine Sword Corps Leader.

– On the day the Divine Sword was passed to Paehyeop, she submitted a request to wash off her ties. Denied by upper management. Confirmed to have ascended her upper dantian that day, completing the Tri-Spirit Purification...

Even just this was from long ago. And it was only the beginning of the report.

The one who knew the Seventeenth Generation best.

From Ma Gwang-ik to Cheol Ma-cheon, through past and present — she had always been there. Even in the final days of the previous Divine Sword Leader, she had been considered a fitting successor.

“Let’s begin. The paper and ink are here. Today’s votes will be certified by our Four Treasures of the Study.”

The vote proceeded under Im Jin-myeong’s oversight.

He, Shin Byeok, Shin Seol-ha, and Ma Jin stood in for the absent commanders according to the law of Ipwang Fortress — respectively as General Commander, Council Elder, and heads of subordinate families. Unlike when Jeong Yeon-shin had inherited the Divine Sword in the North, this process was formal and strict.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok’s own appointment to the Divine Sword Corps Leader post had dragged on for three months. But today, the process was swift as a blade.

There were no opposing votes.

Only two abstentions.

Namgung Hwa-shin and Baek Mi-ryeo — both dozing off in seated positions — were silently acknowledged by Im Jin-myeong. Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin nodded to Dan Jeong-jeong.

Grk-kunk—

A steel chest, as long as a sword case, was placed before Ak Su-rim — as if it held a banner.

Up to that moment...

Her back was upright against the stone chair like a flagpole. Her face was so cold and unreadable it seemed forged from battlefield steel.

The satisfied expression on Elder Shin Byeok’s wrinkled face said it all.

“A figure worthy of leading the Divine Sword Corps. Your guidance, Fortress Lord, is extraordinary.”

Jeong Yeon-shin knew Shin Byeok’s eye for talent was unmatched. If even the council elder was pleased, no one would dare question her qualification.

“I just wish... she was as familiar as she used to be.”

As her junior, he felt the loss keenly — but this was not the time to dwell on emotion. He had to speak as the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.

“Ak Clan’s Mongbi.”

“Yes, Fortress Lord.”

“As of today, I bestow upon you the Purple Rank and the position of Divine Sword Corps Leader. Open the chest.”

Finally—

Whsshh.

Her sleeve slid down, and the tips of her long fingers touched the steel case. No trembling. No hesitation. Her solemnity was such that even Jeong Yeon-shin, who had undergone the same ritual, felt awe.

Even as Divine Sword Corps Leader, she would raise her own banner.

— Whoa, is this really happening? Just like that?

“...?”

— Seriously? I mean, it’s not like there’s anyone else qualified... but still.

A voice flooded Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind — Ak Su-rim’s voice.

Her lips didn’t move. But the ultra-precise motion of the Renying Acupoints at her neck and the Lianquan Acupoint above her larynx created the illusion of speech. It was transcendent vocal control.

Not a single thread of vocal energy. Not even a hint of vibration.

A level of mastery that bordered on Heart-Light Telepathy.

— Honestly, I figured I might get to do this if you died of old age. Maybe. Or if the former Emperor’s son — you know, the current one — pushed for it. Or I’d end up as just a council elder. Since you’re clearly going to outlive me.

She added — not that he didn’t already look robust. That trip north had only made him stronger.

“Ah.”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s mouth opened slightly, unintentionally.

Now that he thought about it, she didn’t know. The number of people aware of Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin’s fate of early death was very few. And among those in black robes, only those who had been with him in Yeoklu Fortress knew.

‘It’s better she doesn’t know. That way, she won’t waver — not even a little.’

That’s what it meant to be the Divine Sword Corps Leader.

— Anyway, Seomye, you’re really doing this? I won’t decline. I’m just gonna open it, alright?

Her outward appearance and aura matched Mongbi the Divine Spear. As Jeong Yeon-shin quietly stared at her — like a naïve youth meeting an elder master — she opened the iron chest.

But it was empty.

As barren as a food box with no meal inside. A void.

Her gaze lost focus for a moment.

“What does this mean...?”

“Look closer.”

Jeong Yeon-shin quickly nodded his chin toward the chest.

The contents were a silver-gray powder.

The remains of the Divine Sword.

Seeing it again made his hand tingle. The sheer pressure of having once stood between his master, the God of War, and the Lord of Severed Sword Sect in their clash—

It was unforgettable.

Im Jin-myeong spoke gently.

“If you place your spear in that case, the smiths of this fortress will melt the remains of the Divine Sword into a new one. The weight and length might change slightly. Will that be acceptable to you?”

Ak Su-rim’s lips faintly twitched.

“...Of course.”

“Also, when you step down from your position as Divine Sword Corps Leader, the weapon must be properly returned. Will you also agree to this condition?”

She simply nodded in silence.

That final question seemed to be the greatest hurdle. Im Jin-myeong’s face, which had been cautious throughout the entire assembly, finally relaxed in relief.

Jeong Yeon-shin, on the other hand, was wondering if there was any way to broadcast Senior Ak’s inner voice to the entire world.

Oddly enough, it was at that exact moment that Jin Myeong-jo flinched.

By then, the roundtable meeting was reaching its °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° conclusion.

“The new Lord of Ipwang Fortress, the new Divine Sword Corps Leader, and the restructured Seventeenth Commanders... we, the General Command, will make a formal announcement all at once. I still have matters to discuss separately with the Fortress Lord. The rest of you may be excused...”

Just then, Im Jin-myeong’s words were cut off.

Jin Myeong-jo had raised his hand. His blood-red sleeve flowed down his arm like a stream of blood and caught on his elbow.

“You. Only you stay.”

His crimson-tinged lips moved slowly.

“Everyone else, leave.”

“Yes, yes!”

Even though he didn’t spare her a glance, the attendant Dan Jeong-jeong immediately responded. A subtle, formless energy had pushed against her shoulder.

After a quick glance at Jeong Yeon-shin, and receiving a nod, she hurried out with small, formal steps.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

Jeong Yeon-shin and Im Jin-myeong exchanged silent glances.

“Hmm?”

Ak Su-rim, who had already risen to her feet, turned her eyes toward them, her gaze gleaming with a cold, colorless light. Then, with a flick of her index finger, she opened the steel chest again — as if she was preparing to accept a sudden martial challenge from Jin Myeong-jo.

But Jin Myeong-jo seemed completely unbothered. His crimson eyes simply darkened the mood at the table.

“...My business lies elsewhere. One hundred and ten days. That is how long this fortress must operate at full strength.”

“You speak as if it’s my term of office,” Ak Su-rim said, faintly smiling.

Jin Myeong-jo shook his head.

“It is the time that remains... for the Fortress Lord.”

***

It was close to dusk.

The ceiling of the vast military tent was painted in twilight. The camp, thick with piercing qi like spears and blades, was filled with tension, yet a young man in a plum-blossom uniform lounged calmly within it.

Mae-ryong, Yu Hyeon.

From first impression, he seemed relaxed.

“Damn it.”

Only outwardly.

He had loosened up after confirming that his friend Jeong Yeon-shin and his master Yulha Nangnang had survived. But that didn’t last long.

He had been forcibly conscripted by the Grand Marshal Jeon U-rip and thrown into harsh duties.

And he wasn’t alone. Most of the martial artists who had gone north and returned had been seized by the military units at the Great Wall. The justification: the looming threat of national collapse.

Many things had happened.

Stopping the wild Yozoku martial artists from crossing the wall after hearing of the Northern Emperor’s cruelty, shooting down the damned crazy doves from that so-called Daesun group with arrows when they flew into the camp, finding out that the masked infiltrators trying to open the gates from within were actually members of Haomundo...

“Be honest with me.”

Yu Hyeon opened his mouth slowly.

“By now, an imperial decree should’ve arrived. Aren’t you deliberately letting these Daesun bastards run wild?”

“Daesun, huh. What imperial decree are you referring to?”

The middle-aged man with venomous eyes asked in return. Towering in stature, clad in dulled silver armor, he wore at his waist the most revered axe in the world — Hwangwol.

This was the pinnacle of Ming military command.

Yu Hyeon sneered, unconcerned.

“The people here at the Great Wall know better than anyone what happened with the Divine Sword Corps in the dark path. They practically forced a peace treaty — one that was almost a surrender.”

“So?”

“I’ve heard that His Majesty is currently with Yeon-shin. Naturally, they would share purpose. Then isn’t it time to stop treating the Yozoku as enemies and start addressing internal threats? Like those Daesun... or the so-called Immortals of Cheonhamok.”

“If an imperial decree comes, I will obey it.”

“But you’re making sure it never reaches us. This very morning, a messenger bird was shot down from afar. It was surely sent by someone from the previous generation who joined Daesun. Plenty of martial artists here saw it happen with their own eyes.”

Yu Hyeon knew.

One day, that peony-faced bastard from the Hwangbo Clan might descend with Yozoku martial artists. No one could block that path — not him, not anyone.

“Are you saying, Grand Marshal, that you’re no better than one of those Three-Fanged Generals?”

“To you, it must be easy to talk about opening the border. But to someone in the military, it’s no simple matter — especially if the ones coming through are the barbaric martial artists from the North.”

Yu Hyeon felt the same stifling frustration as when Jeong Yeon-shin spoke of righteousness.

“...My master will be arriving soon. She won’t be brought down by any archer’s arrow. She carries Yeon-shin’s words.”

“Oh, that so-called Sacred Sword Immortal — busy holding back the flood to protect commoners?”

“......”

Yu Hyeon didn’t respond. Jeon U-rip slowly shook his head.

“If I open the gates in collusion with Lord Jeong, he’ll only end up bearing the disgrace of betraying the Ming. No matter how powerful Cheonhamok is — is that worth sacrificing the record of history?”

A completely new perspective. One only a government official like the Grand Marshal would hold.

“If it were Yeon-shin, he’d prioritize the greater cause over something like that.”

“I believe he would too.”

A dim trace passed through the depths of Jeon U-rip’s black eyes. Somehow, Yu Hyeon felt that the figure of Jeong Yeon-shin, from the time of the Northern Campaign, flashed through those eyes.

Swish.

Jeon U-rip ran a finger along the desk.

“If this is how it’s going to end anyway, why stain him with infamy?”

Somehow, between his index and middle fingers, he held a single report.

A terrifying gold-inscribed scroll. Even the hurried scrawl on the paper reeked of urgency.

— Collapse of the Shanhaiguan section of the Great Wall. Over ten thousand high-level Yozoku martial artists advancing south. Leading them: a humanoid blaze wielding the Divine Sword, Yeoroe.