ch 22

 

Chapter 22

For Cheonma and Munpyeong, the fastest mode of transportation was their own two feet. Cheonma possessed a boundless internal energy that was unmatched in the world, while Munpyeong had an outstanding movement technique specialized for long distances.

However, to traverse the entire length of Hubei province using only a movement technique was a feat that even those with such abilities would not dare to attempt. Munpyeong wasn't sure about Cheonma, but for him, it was an impossibility.

If he ran all the way to Jangchon using his technique, he would be so utterly exhausted that he might not even be able to protect himself. To arrive at the very site of the great Righteous-Demonic War in such a state was nothing short of a high-level suicide mission.

Cheonma, who had an exceptional eye for horses, stopped by a horse market and returned with two rare and magnificent steeds. While they weren't quite on par with the Ferghana horses the Righteous Path Alliance had provided, their even coats and unusually bright, intelligent eyes suggested a distinguished bloodline.

The two men rode across the central plains. Although they had started at the edge of Hunan province, crossing Hubei on horseback was no easy journey. Hubei, true to its name, was a complex terrain of vast lakes, two major rivers, and a web of tributaries connecting them. Not only did they occasionally have to take ferries, but they also often had to retrace their steps to find a way across the water.

After tolerating it a few times, when a river blocked their path for the fifth time, Cheonma’s patience finally ran out.

“This won’t do.”

Muttering to himself, Cheonma pulled Munpyeong from his horse, then slapped both steeds on the rear and sent them galloping away. Munpyeong stared with mixed feelings at the murky, brown river shimmering before him, then turned to look at Cheonma.

“What do you intend to do?”

The river blocking their path wasn't the Yangtze itself, but one of its tributaries. Its powerfully flowing current stretched nearly a hundred feet wide. Crossing a river of this scale without a boat was impossible, even for martial artists.

`What is he planning to do, shooing the horses away in a place with no ferry?`

As Munpyeong watched him with suspicion, Cheonma suddenly grabbed him by the waist, startling him.

`Surely, you’re not going to attempt what I suspect, are you?`

Munpyeong looked at Cheonma with a pleading gaze. But Cheonma met his eyes directly and forced upon him a choice he could not easily make.

“Will you be carried on my back, or in my arms?”

“Why are you suddenly asking such a thing?”

“If you don't want to swim across, you’ll have to choose one or the other. I'll ask again. On my back, or in my arms? Don't make me ask a third time.”

Though Munpyeong’s mastery had risen, he was still only at the peak. He had not reached the supreme state required for techniques like walking on water. Thus, for Cheonma to cross the river using his movement technique, he had to either carry Munpyeong in his arms or on his back.

Once he realized his predicament, the color drained from Munpyeong’s face. For a grown man to be carried across a river in another man’s arms was mortifying! But seeing Cheonma’s unyielding attitude, it was clear there was no room for negotiation.

Cheonma looked down at Munpyeong with eyes that demanded an answer. Munpyeong avoided his gaze and instinctively looked around.

Fortunately, it was a deserted place, with no sign of people. A few fishing boats were scattered in the middle of the river, but they were so far away that they were little more than human-shaped specks.

If the situation weren't so dire, he might have tried to resist. But not wanting to be a burden to Cheonma, Munpyeong squeezed his eyes shut and chose one of the options. No matter how he thought about it, being on his back was far better than being held in his arms. If he were held, he would have to look directly into Cheonma’s face. On his back, at least, he could just face the back of his head.

“I will be on your back, my Lord.”

Munpyeong answered, holding back tears. In truth, in a situation like this, there was no need for Cheonma to be burdened with him at all. There was no one left who would dare target Munpyeong, and to Cheonma, he was nothing but baggage.

However, neither of them—not Munpyeong, and not even Cheonma—gave this possibility a single thought. They both seemed to consider it perfectly natural that they must move together, no matter what.

“Good. Get on.”

Perhaps because he was in a hurry, Cheonma didn't waste another word and lifted Munpyeong onto his back. An impossibly firm back pressed against Munpyeong’s chest. He had leaned against that back, and clung to it, digging his nails into its muscles countless times, but being carried like this was a first.

Munpyeong buried his face in the nape of Cheonma’s neck to hide his furiously blushing face. It truly seemed he was having all sorts of new experiences since meeting this man.

He had never been carried on someone’s back even as a child, yet at his age, climbing onto another man's back filled him with such shame and embarrassment that he couldn't bear to look up at the sky.

Cheonma’s hands gripped Munpyeong’s buttocks firmly. There was no ulterior motive, only to ensure he wouldn’t fall, but Munpyeong, who knew all too well how those hands could move, couldn't help but shiver.

Cheonma began to cross the river using the art of walking on water. The sound of his feet splashing against the surface reached Munpyeong’s ears, but being on his back, Munpyeong couldn't feel the slightest indication that they were on water.

Even while running across the river, his posture was unwavering. Despite carrying a person and not just himself, Cheonma’s form was as smooth and stable as if he were running on solid ground.

In less than the time it took to burn a stick of incense, Cheonma had crossed the river. But Munpyeong, his face buried in Cheonma’s shoulder, didn't realize it even after they had reached the other side. This was because Cheonma didn’t put him down.

`It seems a lot wider than it looked. Shouldn’t we have crossed by now?`

After a considerable time had passed on his back without a word to get down, Munpyeong grew curious and cautiously lifted his head to look down. No wonder he hadn't heard the sound of splashing water—what Cheonma was treading on now was not water, but dry land.

Flustered, Munpyeong tapped Cheonma’s shoulder. It was one thing to be carried across a river, but to be carried while running on land… He couldn't fathom what the man’s intention was in subjecting him to such humiliation.

“Uh, shouldn’t you put me down? I think we’ve crossed the river.”

He spoke loudly enough to get his attention, but Cheonma didn't look back. He simply kept running, staring straight ahead. Since all Munpyeong could see was the back of his head, he couldn't tell if he genuinely hadn't heard or was just pretending not to.

One might think his voice hadn't carried because they were moving so fast that the scenery blurred into afterimages, but Munpyeong knew Cheonma too well to believe that. Growing stubborn, Munpyeong sent a telepathic message this time to convey his will.

*"We’ve already crossed the river. Please put me down, my Lord."*

Having sent a telepathic message, his intent would have certainly reached him. But once again, there was no response. Munpyeong grew frustrated. It was tolerable for now since the area was deserted. But soon they would reach a main road, and the number of passersby would gradually increase.

`You always nag me about my gray hairs, but aren't you the one who keeps giving me more?`

If he could, Munpyeong wanted to shake Cheonma’s shoulders and scream. The reason I’m aging is because of you! If I’m aging rapidly, it’s all because of what you do to me!

“My Lord!”

*"Be quiet. We’re being followed."*

You’re playing a trick on me again, aren't you? Your mouth would grow thorns if you went a day without a prank! The anger that was rising from his hasty judgment came to an abrupt halt at Cheonma's reply. Munpyeong, who had been about to tap his shoulder again, froze, his eyes wide.

`We're being followed? Does that mean… there are people chasing us, knowing full well who we are?`

Who would dare have such courage? Considering Cheonma’s reputation in the Jianghu, it was hard to believe, but given the circumstances, he had no choice but to accept it.

Munpyeong, who had been sitting up straight, bent down again and whispered low in Cheonma’s ear. There was no one to overhear their telepathic conversation, but old habits made his actions unnecessarily secretive.

*"Who is following us? Do you know their identity?"*

*"To keep up at this speed is no easy feat, yet they persist. They don’t seem to have surpassed the peak realm, but their movement techniques are quite impressive. For men in Hubei to possess such fluid techniques, they must be from Wudang. It seems the Righteous Path Alliance has found us."*

Cheonma made a logical deduction. Wudang had a peak movement technique called Parting Cloud Step, which was counted among the best of the Orthodox Faction, along with Kunlun's Eight Great Forms of the Cloud Dragon. Hubei was Wudang's home turf long before it was the Righteous Path Alliance's. It wasn’t strange for them to mobilize Wudang disciples as a reconnaissance team.

The real mystery wasn’t their origin, but the intentions of their superiors who had sent a mere handful of peak masters to tail him. A master of Cheonma’s caliber would surely notice them. To send them out so brazenly suggested a hidden motive.

`How did they know I would come this way? …They’ve cast a net that covers heaven and earth.`

Sensing the direction of the presences in his mind, Cheonma grasped the situation.

`This isn't a pursuit; it's a drive. Is there a trap waiting ahead? I see. They have no intention of letting me pass. They mean to finish this before I reach Jangchon.`

Cheonma’s mind worked swiftly. If he were in Gwak Hyo's position, he too would have thought of a divide-and-conquer strategy. Cheonma and the Demonic Cult were each formidable foes, but together, they would be an unparalleled terror.

Gwak Hyo knew this and must have tried everything to lure him away from the Cult. Gwak Hyo was arrogant, but not foolish. On the contrary, he was a man who knew exactly what it took to win.

`I won’t fall for it so easily. I’m not generous enough to walk into a trap knowing it’s there.`

Only a fool walks into a tiger's den to show off his bravado. Cheonma smiled coldly and drew upon his qi. His pure internal energy surged from his dantian and spread throughout his body. His muscles tensed.

Despite drawing on his qi, Cheonma's pace slowed. The pursuers, who had been closing in at a frightening speed, couldn't hide their confusion at his sudden deceleration.

Even for a master who could freely control their qi, it was impossible to halt the flow of internal energy in an instant. The Wudang disciples, who had been running at maximum speed to catch up, were in the same predicament.

The distance between them closed in an instant. With Cheonma barely moving and the Wudang disciples unable to stop, the gap was bound to shrink, whether they wanted it to or not.

“Damn, we’ve been discovered. Attack!”

Realizing Cheonma had seen through their intentions, one of them shouted.

`Discovered? I knew from the very beginning.`

Cheonma looked at the men, whose courage bordered on insanity, and sneered coldly. With one arm still holding Munpyeong on his back, he raised his other hand and, as if tapping out a rhythm, flicked his fingertips and said quietly,

“That wasn’t your mission. Your foolish bravado has brought disaster upon you.”

If you’re caught tailing someone, you should flee immediately. What gave them the courage to charge like this? Cheonma clicked his tongue, thinking that the Orthodox Faction lackeys were truly poorly disciplined.

A member of the Demonic Cult would have tried to escape at all costs. It was better for the organization if even one person survived to report back than for the entire group to be gloriously annihilated.

But these blockheads, every last one of them, leaped into the air and thrust their swords at him. It seemed they lacked not only strategy but common sense as well.

**Tang, tang, tang, tang, tang.**

The swords, all flying toward a single point, were repelled as if by an invisible barrier. At a glance, it might have seemed like the work of a protective aura, but Cheonma hadn't bothered to use one against such opponents. He had merely flicked a few gusts of Finger Wind to knock their blades away.

Just as when they had charged with their swords, they all stumbled back several steps in unison, coughing up blood. The rebound force was so immense that they suffered internal injuries, never imagining they had been struck by mere Finger Wind. And the merciless Heavenly Demon didn't grant them the time to even realize it.

“Foolish actions always have a price. I hope you cherish this lesson in your next life.”

Cheonma shot another round of Finger Wind, piercing the foreheads of the pursuers. The gusts, unleashed from his five fingers at exquisite angles, claimed five lives.

The two who survived the first volley didn't have much luck left. A second wave of Finger Wind, fired with almost no delay, pierced their necks.

With nothing more than a thumb-sized wound on each body, the corpses fell. In the blink of an eye, seven men had become lumps of dead meat. They were the Wudang Seven Bows, disciples of some renown from the main sect, but before Cheonma, they were less than a swarm of ants. Munpyeong, faced with such terrifying martial prowess that he couldn't even dare to feel admiration, found himself holding his breath.

After killing seven masters with a few motions akin to dusting off his hands, Cheonma turned. As he adjusted Munpyeong on his back, Munpyeong could only swallow hard, not daring to object. The pursuers were gone, so he could have been let down, but it seemed Cheonma intended to keep carrying him.

Normally, he would have protested that he had his own feet, but after seeing those corpses drop in an instant, he was like a mute who had eaten honey. They weren't ordinary people ignorant of martial arts; they were seven peak masters. Each one was at his own level, yet they had charged as a group and couldn't even handle Cheonma’s left hand.

Witnessing such a scene firsthand, he was struck anew by what kind of being Cheonma was. Perhaps the term "Heaven beyond the Heavens" was truly meant for someone like him.

“Since it’s come to this, it can’t be helped. It's a bother, but we’ll have to keep running like this for a while. If I have to deal with every tail that latches on, we'll run out of time. We need to shake them off first.”

Muttering as if he'd just swatted away some annoying flies, Cheonma glanced back at Munpyeong as if seeking his consent. What could he possibly say in this situation? Should he say he’d rather walk on his own two feet, even if it slowed them down, and have him kill every pursuer they encountered? Searching for words, Munpyeong found none and simply nodded silently.

Cheonma’s spectacular display of power had an effect on Munpyeong. As he tightened his hands around his neck in agreement, Cheonma let out a slight smile.

`But he doesn’t have to get so timid every time.`

Even if he enjoyed showing off his strength, would he really do so to him? This weed of his was good in every other way, but his timidity was a flaw.

Whatever the process, Cheonma had secured Munpyeong's consent. His mind at ease, he readjusted Munpyeong on his back and began to run again.

If Munpyeong hadn't been with him, he might have leisurely waited and enjoyed the fun of crushing each pursuer that followed. But with someone to protect, he wanted to avoid unnecessary fights if possible. No matter how well he protected Munpyeong, there was always that one-in-a-million chance in the world, wasn't there? Cheonma had no desire to get Munpyeong caught up in a pointless battle.

To avoid being seen, he left the main road and began to run. As if he had mastered the art of shrinking the earth, the landscape changed with every step he took.

It was only upon seeing Cheonma run with all his might that Munpyeong realized how much he had been holding back before. With Munpyeong's abilities, even if he were to draw out every last bit of his innate qi, there was no way he could match this speed.

Cheonma ran like a streak of black cloud. Even a martial artist, let alone a common person, would not have recognized him as a human being upon seeing such a sight.

***

Munpyeong had obtained a unique honor in the world.

He had achieved the great feat of traveling while riding Cheonma like a horse. But Munpyeong was not at all pleased with this tremendous honor. The experience brought him nothing but the realization that one could become exhausted even when carried on another's back, and a brutal muscle pain on his inner thighs.

Even though they only moved during the day and slept at night, the fatigue of the journey was considerable. He had ridden a horse all day before, but the exhaustion he felt then was distinctly different from this.

A four-legged beast and a two-legged human have fundamentally different body structures. No matter how stable his posture, the jolting was inevitably greater than on a horse, and being carried on someone's back, there was no way to change his position.

Yet Munpyeong couldn't complain. The man had carried a full-grown man on his back and run all day; what right did a mere piece of baggage have to complain? He, too, had a sense of face and decency.

Fortunately, as they neared Heungsan, Cheonma no longer insisted on this mode of travel. Thanks to that, Munpyeong was able to stand on his own two feet for the first time in two days. His entire body ached from being in one position for too long. This was despite having periodically circulated his internal energy.

“It’s surprisingly quiet. I don’t see any sign of martial artists anywhere.”

Having gotten directions to Jangchon from the village below where they’d spent the night, Munpyeong looked around as he walked up the mountain path.

Jangchon, which had served as both a slash-and-burn farming village and a mining town, was a high-altitude village nestled in a basin-like area surrounded by steep mountains. Before the discovery of the Black Demon Prison, it had been a humble mountain village that had never been particularly well-known. Now, the attention of the entire central plains was focused solely on this place. The ways of the world were truly inscrutable.

Before climbing the mountain, Munpyeong had expected to see a scene similar to the one he had witnessed in Johyeon. But his expectations were soundly proven wrong.

On Mount Maeryang, where Jangchon was located, there was no sign of slaughter anywhere. Birds chirped leisurely, and wild animals ran freely near the mountain path. The desolate roadside was devoid of any human presence, let alone screams.

“It’s the calm before the storm. This isn't a chaotic clash of random factions like last time. This is a formal confrontation between the Righteous Path Alliance and the Demonic Cult. Even though they are martial artists, when a military force of that scale moves, strict discipline is essential.”

“…I see.”

This also meant that when the conflict did erupt, the result could be even more horrific. Munpyeong, who knew from experience how terrifying a well-disciplined elite force could be, felt a chill inwardly.

It was, in every sense of the word, a Righteous-Demonic War. The forces of Gwak Hyo, who had been sharpening his blade for twenty years, and the Demonic Cult, the greatest power in the land, were about to collide in one place. If that truly happened, it would not be surprising if corpses formed mountains and blood formed rivers.

How many lives would be lost? Would the members of his Soul-Slaying Squad survive this war?

It is a natural human instinct to worry about acquaintances more than strangers. The Soul-Slaying Squad was the lowest-ranking martial unit in the Demonic Cult and was bound to be the first to be expended in such a conflict. He didn't know for sure, but it was obvious that his comrades from the Soul-Slaying Squad would be among the Demonic Cult forces gathering in Jangchon.

Except for their leader, Elder Ak, none of them had surpassed the First-Rate level. And Im Hak, though First-Rate, was young and lacked internal energy.

If Munpyeong possessed the world-shaking martial arts of Cheonma, he might have tried to save them first. But at the mere peak realm, he would be hard-pressed to save even himself.

“And…”

Cheonma, who had been glancing at the lost-in-thought Munpyeong, drew out his words. Munpyeong, thinking the conversation was over, looked at the meaningfully smiling Heavenly Demon with a curious gaze. Cheonma opened his mouth, his eyes fixed ahead. His eyebrows, as sharp as if drawn by a brush, could be seen curling into a cynical arc.

“To say you see no trace of martial artists seems to be a hasty judgment on your part. Doesn’t the air here stink of hypocrites? They can’t even properly hide their presence while in ambush, so they must be incompetent fools, but to dismiss them as not being martial artists at all is a bit of an overstatement, isn't it?”

His clear voice echoed through the forest. Though his tone was mild and laced with a smile, no one could fail to recognize the sharp sarcasm in his words.

Startled, Munpyeong became alert, and his eyes caught the sight of rustling bushes. Agitated by Cheonma's words, the ambushers began to reveal themselves one by one. Unbelievably, the distance between them and Munpyeong was no more than thirty or forty feet.

`They were this close, and I didn't sense their presence at all?`

That fact alone suggested they were formidable foes. Great masters who far surpassed the peak realm. Munpyeong felt a cold sweat run down his back but bolstered his internal energy. If they were targeting Cheonma, they would surely be too much for him, but he had a desperate pride that drove him not to become a burden.

“Heh heh heh. No matter when I see you, benefactor, your tongue is as sharp as ever. It has been a long time. Benefactor Heavenly Demon. Have you been well?”

From between the dark green trees emerged a dozen or so people dressed in various Daoist and Buddhist robes. An old monk, who appeared to be their leader, walked out from among them and greeted Cheonma.

The old monk, wearing a red robe with a yellow kasaya, performed a half-palm salute instead of the usual full one. Ever since Huike, the second patriarch of the Zen school, had cut off his arm to seek the Way, the half-palm salute had been a unique custom of Shaolin monks.

From that greeting alone, Munpyeong could guess the man’s identity. The old monk was a high-ranking master from Shaolin. Judging by the fact that he addressed Cheonma with casual respect, he was clearly a figure of considerable standing.

“You ask the most pointless things. When one little loach is muddying the waters of the entire Jianghu, do I look well to you, monk? Do you think this old body would have come down to catch him personally if it weren't for all the noise?”

Cheonma, facing the old monk whose silkworm-white eyebrows hung down to his chin, unabashedly called himself an old man. It was a rather comical sight, as Cheonma looked like a young man in his twenties, but no one present was unaware of the fact that he had undergone Rejuvenation.

“I heard the rumors that you had achieved Rejuvenation, but you are truly young. To maintain such youth at your age… You are truly shameless.”

As if offended by Cheonma's blatant sarcasm, one of the people standing behind the monk interjected. She was a woman dressed in a Daoist robe, and the brilliant plum blossom insignia shining on her sleeve hinted at her origin.

A Daoist priestess who looked like a beautiful middle-aged woman in her fifties. And from the Huashan Sect. A name flashed through Munpyeong’s mind. The moment he recalled her name, his tension heightened.

The current number one sword of Huashan was a master who had reached the Transcendent Realm, and they was not a man, but a woman. She had mastered the Plum Blossom Sword Style with a woman’s body, and because of that, she vied for the position of the greatest female martial artist alongside Ja Uk-un, the master of The Joyful Pavilion.

Her name was Autumn Enchantress, Jongri Seon-ok. Known as the woman with the sharpest sword and tongue among all living female masters, she glared at Cheonma with a gaze as fiery as a bursting flame.

“Well, I’ll be. It seems all the old fossils who couldn't even die of old age have gathered here. Did all ten of you come to catch little old me? It seems the only one missing is Tiger Hero Pan Cheon.”

Ignoring the grinding-toothed Jongri Seon-ok, Cheonma slowly surveyed the people, a strange light flashing in his eyes. He looked at the largest man among his visitors and tilted his head with interest.

“I can understand the others, but I didn't expect you, Sado Hong, to be involved. I thought you loathed the Orthodox Faction as much as I do.”

“There is a saying, Wu and Yue in the same boat. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

A man with red hair and blue eyes, who did not appear to be of Han ethnicity, replied to Cheonma with a gentle smile. He had a massive build reminiscent of Lü Bu, and the enormous halberd on his back made him look even more domineering.

If he was indeed Sado Hong as Cheonma said, then he too was a Enlightened master. Sado Hong was the only member of the Unorthodox Faction to have reached the Ten Venerables, and he was also the master of the Red Dragon Fortress, the number one sect of the Sado. Judging by his appearance, hoping he wasn't Sado Hong was as futile as hoping Cheonma hadn't undergone Rejuvenation.

`My god. Are all of them truly the Ten Venerables?`

Munpyeong could barely recognize one or two of them, but Cheonma seemed to be acquainted with them all. If they were indeed the Ten Venerables, it made sense.

It was said that people of a feather flock together. Just as Munpyeong had his own circle, Cheonma must have his.

If Cheonma was the one and only sun in the world today, then beneath him were ten shining stars. The modern era had an unusual number of masters who had reached the Transcendent Realm—a feat that usually appeared only a handful of times in a generation—and the Jianghu called the most outstanding among them the Ten Venerables. Each of the Ten was an absolute master, second only to Cheonma. Their origins were somewhat skewed: eight came from the Nine Sects One Union and the Five Great Families, one from the neutral factions, and one from the Unorthodox Faction.

Thus, Munpyeong was witnessing a scene rarely seen in the history of the Jianghu. With the number one in the world, Cheonma, and the Ten Venerables who vied for the second spot gathered in one place, this was a meeting of the greatest masters from all factions—Orthodox, Unorthodox, and Demonic.

That such an incredible encounter was happening in an unfamiliar mountain that had been unknown until recently… Munpyeong, faced with a scene that could be called a Grand Banquet of Stars, didn't know how to react.

“A plausible calculation, I’ll give you that. You’re right. Ten Enlightened masters might be able to handle one Profound master. …But isn’t this a little insufficient? To be precise, it’s nine and a half, not ten. At your age, you should know that a small hole can be a fatal weakness. Why did you drag someone like that here?”

Even with Tiger Hero Pan Cheon missing from the Ten Venerables, there were still ten people. That meant one of them was not a Enlightened master. The ‘hole’ Cheonma was pointing out was that very person.

The man who had suddenly been reduced to half a person by Cheonma's words was a swordsman in his late forties. Even amidst the Enlightened and Profound masters, his eyes shone fiercely, and he glared at Cheonma with a gaze as deadly as Autumn Enchantress's. It was a look filled with personal grudge.

“His lack of skill will be compensated for by the venom he has honed over many long years. Come to think of it, benefactor Heavenly Demon, you have never met Benefactor O, have you? This benefactor is Peerless Soul of Sorrow. The last talent nurtured by the annihilated Kongtong Sect.”

The Kongtong Sect had been annihilated forty years ago by a surprise attack from Cheonma. Peerless Soul of Sorrow, also known as O Inryang, had lost his father in that incident.

Even after being introduced by the Shaolin master, Peerless Soul of Sorrow did not greet Cheonma. Cheonma, in turn, hadn't expected any greeting. The young pups of the Orthodox Faction were always ill-mannered. When they met a senior who wasn't from their own faction, they were more likely to talk back than to offer a greeting.

“What a pity. I may have destroyed the Kongtong Sect back then, but I thought it a waste for their ancient orthodox martial arts to be lost, so I allowed the bloodline to continue. But thanks to an heir who doesn't know his place, even that has become useless. Now the name of Kongtong will vanish from the Jianghu forever.”

Cheonma provoked Peerless Soul of Sorrow with a sardonic smile. Peerless Soul of Sorrow’s eyebrow twitched, and he took a stance as if ready to strike at any moment. Cheonma looked down his nose at him and laughed as if he were pathetic. Then, shaking his head, he warned in a low voice,

“It wasn't enough to seek out your own grave, you had to drag a foolish heir into this as well. Just the kind of thing you people would do.”

“Our grave, you say? You are quite confident, benefactor. We know you have surpassed the realms, but you are still human. Do you truly believe you can handle the ten of us alone?”

“Your question is flawed, Gakcheon. The way I see it, the order should be reversed. It’s not me alone against you. It’s the mere ten of you against me.”

“Hahahaha! Spoken like Cheonma indeed. To be so arrogant even in this situation. Truly the spirit of a hero who once roamed the world alone.”

Gakcheon laughed heartily, praising Cheonma, but his eyes, hidden beneath his white eyebrows, burned with intensity. Cheonma was indeed Cheonma. Who else in the world could stand before the Ten Venerables and boast so grandly?

His arrogance had a basis, and Gakcheon knew this all too well. Though they were all called Enlightened masters, they wouldn't dare face Cheonma alone. They had all reached a realm where, had they been born in another era, they would have each claimed the title of number one in the world. But because they were born in the same era as Cheonma, they were forever trapped in his shadow.

The saying "above the one who runs is one who flies" perfectly described their relationship with Cheonma. When they were struggling at the Superlative Peak, Cheonma alone surpassed the Transcendent Realm. When they finally reached the Transcendent Realm and felt a sense of relief, Cheonma had achieved the Profound Realm.

When Gakcheon heard that this man, who was already impossible to catch up to, had even achieved Rejuvenation, he felt a genuine fear. It wasn't his own future, nearing the age of death, that he worried about. It was the future of the Orthodox Faction. Cheonma would live on for years, perhaps decades, in his youthful form.

That monster, who not only wouldn't die of old age but had in fact grown younger, would pass on the suffering he had inflicted on them to their descendants. The reason he had so easily been swayed by Baek Woo-gyeong's argument that they must defeat Cheonma before dealing with the world was because that same thought had been in his own heart.

“The Orthodox Faction has been oppressed by the Demonic Cult for forty years, benefactor. We have no intention of passing on such humiliation to the next generation. Even if we all perish here together, we will not let you, Heavenly Demon, leave this place alive.”

As soon as his words fell, the other nine people moved, surrounding Cheonma. None dared to step within a ten-foot radius of where he stood, but by taking their positions with clear intent, they formed an obvious pincer formation.

`This formation… it’s a variation of the Ten Directions Formation. Has Shaolin opened its gates?`

Slowly turning his head to survey his surroundings, Cheonma easily discerned that their preparations were no small matter.

They truly intended to make this place Cheonma’s grave. Otherwise, peerless masters like them would never resort to ganging up on a single person.

`Gwak Hyo has gone to great lengths. Indeed, a trap of this magnitude is worth falling into.`

Cheonma, who had thought the matter of the Heavenly Demons' Secret Vault was too crude, had to admit it this time. To move the Ten Venerables simultaneously was something even he hadn't foreseen. If he had known such a vicious scheme awaited him, he would never have so casually brought Munpyeong here.

He was confident he could handle it on his own, but the problem was Munpyeong. Against nine Enlightened masters, not just one, even he would struggle to ensure Munpyeong’s safety.

Putting on a nonchalant act, Cheonma clasped his hands behind his back and quietly glanced at Munpyeong. He saw Munpyeong, tense, in a fighting stance as if he would join the battle. Though he was the weakest one here, his spirit was as defiant as anyone's.

`He's still so resilient. That's my weed.`

Finding his refusal to be intimidated endearing, Cheonma smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. It was a serious problem that just looking at Munpyeong made him smile, even in such a dire situation.

“Mutual destruction is fine, the pincer formation is fine, it’s all fine, but how about you let that child go before we start? There’s no need to harm an innocent life in the affairs of your betters, is there?”

Cheonma suggested with a smiling face as he looked at Munpyeong.

`Why are you doing this? I will fight too.`

Munpyeong, a man who valued his own life above all else, seemed to have caught some strange whim and was making his demand with his eyes.

`Stop it. You’ll just get hurt. Do you really think I’d be harmed by something of this level?`

Cheonma gently shook his head, discouraging his bravado.

The younger generation might not know, but those of a certain age knew Cheonma’s proclivities well. It was the only flaw in an otherwise perfect man, so while it was hushed up, it was still a fairly well-known rumor.

Hearing Cheonma’s words, Gakcheon looked at Munpyeong with a new curiosity. He had heard that Cheonma purused young men and had expected him to have some stunningly beautiful boy with him, but what he saw was an ordinary-looking young man you could find anywhere. He looked young, but not a boy, and far from beautiful, there was nothing about him that could even be considered handsome.

“Who is he that you care for him so specially? Is he a disciple of yours, Benefactor Heavenly Demon?”

Cheonma, who wouldn't bat an eye if hundreds died, was personally looking out for his life. At first, he thought it was his lover. But this young man lacked even a hint of seductive charm.

Could a being like Cheonma really enjoy sex with such a young man?

Gazing at Munpyeong with curiosity, Gakcheon was soon filled with doubt. No matter how he looked at him, this man didn't seem to fit. Cheonma could have any number of more beautiful and younger partners; it was unlikely he would be satisfied with such an ordinary young man.

“A disciple? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my pleasure-boy. Just a toy I brought along for fun on a boring journey.”

But Gakcheon’s hasty judgment was soundly refuted by Cheonma himself. With a casual air, he admitted that Munpyeong was his pleasure-boy. At his thunderous confession, the faces of those around him wrinkled in disgust.

Munpyeong’s face, on the other hand, turned beet red. Unable to bear the shame and bewilderment, he stared at Cheonma, who sent him a quiet telepathic message just as he looked ready to scream.

*"Ssh. Shut your mouth. Are you going to ruin everything when it’s almost done?"*

Munpyeong, who had been about to shout “My Lord!”, flinched, his shoulders heaving once before settling. He moved his lips as if to protest, but he hadn't yet mastered the art of sending telepathic messages without showing any outward signs, so he couldn't make a sound. If they found out they were communicating telepathically in this situation, it might arouse unnecessary suspicion.

Seeing that Cheonma was sending a telepathic message, he must have a plan. Afraid that his own rashness might ruin it, Munpyeong suppressed his surging emotions and did as he was told, keeping his mouth shut.

“Ahem. Benefactor. Why do you suddenly bring up such matters at a time like this? We have no desire to know about your… deep, personal affairs.”

No matter how curious he was about Cheonma, he had no interest in his sex life. Especially since Cheonma enjoyed having sex with young men, a perverted act that violated the natural way of man and woman.

A strong sense of revulsion appeared on the face of the fastidious Autumn Enchantress. The other Ten Venerables also looked uncomfortable with Cheonma's explicit sexual history laid bare.

Gakcheon, who had to speak as their representative, couldn't hide his troubled expression. They were on the verge of a life-or-death battle, a moment of grave solemnity, but with talk of sleeping with men and pleasure-boys, he didn't know how to react.

“It is because it is a moment like this that I speak. No matter the outcome, if that boy gets caught in the middle, the story will become unsightly, won’t it? Cheonma, ambushed while on a pleasure trip with his boy? Even I, who know no shame, know that’s a disgrace. The Ten Venerables formed a pincer formation, yet Cheonma escaped unharmed while only his pleasure-boy died? You came here prepared to risk your lives, but wouldn’t you harbor regrets even in the afterlife if such a story were told? Let the one who is uninvolved go. A duel between masters must have a weight befitting its stature.”

Cheonma spoke to Gakcheon with an attitude that thoroughly dismissed Munpyeong’s existence.

Munpyeong, his very being scorned right before his eyes, bit his lip. Of course, he wasn’t a fool; he knew why Cheonma was saying such things. He was doing it on purpose to let him go.

If it became known that he cared for him, Munpyeong would surely be used as a weakness. So he was deliberately acting cold and casting him aside as if he were nothing, to protect him.

But while his head understood, his heart ached. The mere fact of being treated as nothing to him made his heart throb as if it were being torn apart. He had been ignored by others his whole life, so why was it so painful now?

In the past, things like this didn't bother him. But now, even though he knew Cheonma’s true feelings were different, it was unbearable.

`Unbelievable. Such childishness. Have I been relying on him this much?`

Munpyeong was deeply shocked by his own emotions. It was true that Cheonma had been unusually fond of him, but he hadn't realized until this very moment that he had grown accustomed to it. He had always complained and gotten angry at everything Cheonma did, but it seemed that deep down, he had been leaning on him. Otherwise, how could he be reacting like this?

Munpyeong barely suppressed the urge to cling to Cheonma like a child clinging to a parent. If he did that, Cheonma would be in real trouble.

“The conditions for creating a legend are simple. Everything in the process must be perfect. That is all.”

“Benefactor Heavenly Demon.”

“The choice is yours, so I won’t force it. If you refuse, I suppose that too is the boy’s fate.”

Subtly stoking the pride of the Ten Venerables, Cheonma smiled and looked at them. Gakcheon, realizing that despite his words, Cheonma was worried about him, hesitated, unable to make a quick decision.

It was the hot-tempered Autumn Enchantress who pulled him out of his predicament. She placed her hands on her slender waist and wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

“What is there to think about, Great Master? Just let the little thing go. There’s no need to waste time on pointless matters.”

Though she looked to be in her fifties, she was already past sixty. It wasn't strange for her to call Munpyeong a "little thing."

“Benefactor Chuyo…”

“Cheonma is right. Today’s event is a battle that will be recorded in history. It should be nothing short of perfectly brilliant. There is no need to leave a stain that will be tied to scandal for ages to come.”

She wasn't unaware that Munpyeong could be Cheonma’s weakness. But her lofty pride refused to stoop so low.

It was shameful enough that nine Enlightened masters were ganging up on one person. If, in this situation, they also took his pleasure-boy hostage, could they even hold their heads up in shame, even if they managed to kill Cheonma?

The other Venerables seemed to share her thoughts, all expressing the opinion that they should let Munpyeong go. Left with no choice, Gakcheon ordered the encirclement to be opened. Namgung Yeongwang, who was standing closest to Munpyeong, opened a path upon his signal.

“My Lord…”

Munpyeong knew this was a place of death. Cheonma had scoffed, calling it nine and a half, but nine Enlightened masters and one Transcendent master would not be an easy opponent, even for him. To leave Cheonma alone in this situation was no different from telling him to die alone.

As he hesitated, unable to take a step, Cheonma clicked his tongue under his breath.

He should just go when he’s told. Why is he hesitating like this? If he gets caught too, there will be no way out. What does he want me to do?

*"If you’re truly worried about me, go to Jangchon as fast as you can. Wan-pyeong will be there with the Demonic Cult’s forces. Your job is not to stand your ground here, but to bring reinforcements. Did you really think I would send you away from here without a plan?"*

In reality, he was just sending him away without any thought, but Cheonma gave Munpyeong a pretext to leave.

The corners of Munpyeong’s eyes reddened, but still he couldn't leave, just staring at him. It was rare to see a smiling face on Munpyeong, but a crying face was even rarer. Yet the boy's eyes were already brimming with tears. He had seen him cry from anger or frustration before, but these tears were different.

Seeing the tears clinging to the eyes of his beloved weed, Cheonma’s heart plummeted. Knowing that he was genuinely worried about him only made his mood fouler.

He had made a person he should have always kept smiling cry over a pointless matter. How much pain must this prim, almost sly, boy be in to be unable to hide his emotions? The resentment that had been building towards the Ten Venerables for surrounding him now crystallized into decisive fury at the sight of those tears.

`These bastards dared to make my weed cry. It wasn’t enough to try and attack me, now they make my person shed tears?`

Cheonma’s eyes flashed fiercely, and he ground his teeth. If they thought they could get away with this, they were sorely mistaken. Cheonma had no intention of showing them any mercy.

“You said you would grant me anything I wished.”

Munpyeong, looking straight at Cheonma with reddened eyes, suddenly spoke. Despite the tears welling up, his face was full of resolve.

`I told you not to say things like that here. That stubborn boy.`

Cheonma clicked his tongue again at Munpyeong’s rash behavior and met his wet eyes.

“I will trust that promise. So you must stay alive. If by any chance you die, I will never forgive you.”

Despite feeling the disapproving gazes of the people around him, Munpyeong smiled brightly. Smiling like that with tears streaming down his face, he looked, frankly, like a fool. But even so, Cheonma thought he was lovely.

Munpyeong, who always hid his feelings and denied everything he felt for him, had for the first time given him a positive response. He had said he trusted him. And that he must live. For the shy Munpyeong, those words were the highest expression of affection.

Munpyeong turned and ran. It seemed he was truly going to summon the Demonic Cult's reinforcements as Cheonma had ordered. Namgung Yeongwang closed the gap he had left. The perfectly formed Ten Directions Formation once again closed in menacingly around Cheonma.

“Can we start now?”

Sado Hong, who had been unwillingly forced to witness the lovers' drama, asked in a brusque tone. Cheonma, who had his arms behind his back, lowered them, shook out his sleeves, and replied as if he had been waiting.

“Those are my words. Let us begin. Haven't we wasted enough time?”

As he infused his internal energy, the hem of his clothes began to swell. An immense pressure, difficult to believe from a single person, began to pour out from within the Ten Directions Formation. His aura already possessed a tangible weight and volume that overwhelmed the Ten Venerables. His sleeves fluttered as if in a wind, revealing white forearms with veins beginning to bulge.

“Shall I come to you? Or will you come to me?”

Cheonma bared his white teeth like an enraged beast and asked with sharp mockery. Even the semblance of respect he had shown was gone, replaced by a tone he would use with his inferiors, completely looking down on the Ten Venerables.

The attack of the Ten Venerables began with the hot-tempered Autumn Enchantress impulsively charging forward. Cheonma's counterattack followed immediately.

**Rumble, crash, boom.**

Unseen by any witness, the battle of the century between the Ten Venerables and the number one in the world unfolded. Their clash was so massive it hardly seemed like a fight between humans. With each exchange of blows, the mountain trembled. The shockwaves of their fists and sword qi uprooted trees. A glancing blow from their energy could pulverize boulders, and a direct hit could cause the very ground of the mountain path to collapse.

Cheonma had not been wrong. Their fight was certainly worthy of becoming a legend. The future of history could change depending on who won this battle; its importance was incomparable to any other duel.

But as he fought, Cheonma wasn't thinking of such grandiose things. He thought only of the wounded Munpyeong and the tears he had shed. That alone was enough to ignite his fighting spirit against nine Enlightened masters and one Transcendent master.

***

Heungsan in Hubei province had always been a mountainous region. The character for "mountain" in its name was because, unlike most of water-rich Hubei, it was a region with more mountains than rivers. Heungsan had more small mountain villages than large cities, and its solid granite bedrock meant it also had a fair number of mines.

The Black Demon Prison was established in Jangchon because of the geographical feature of its granite bedrock. Granite does not erode easily; it is dense and hard. It was nearly impossible for a human to dig a hole in such bedrock with bare hands. That's why caves made of granite were perfect for use as prisons.

The abandoned mine they used for the Black Demon Prison had been a forced labor camp for political prisoners during the Yuan Dynasty. They had utilized a naturally formed vertical cave, lowering people down with a pulley system and leaving them there to never see the light of day again.

Martial artists began to flock to the quiet basin. They could be broadly divided into two groups, and they warily took up positions at opposite ends of the village. Without anyone ordering them to, their actions were perfectly natural. As if they had been born to be separate from one another, not a single person mingled, each finding their own group.

“The last squad has arrived, my Lord.”

Po Yeong-ui, entering the empty house they were using as a temporary headquarters, spoke to Ho Wan-pyeong. Ho Wan-pyeong, who had been silently drinking tea since arriving in Jangchon, lifted his face at his words.

“Where is Master?”

“He has not yet shown himself. Given the gravity of the situation, we expect him to appear eventually, but we do not know when that will be.”

“I see. And what of their preparations?”

“They started this, didn't they? Their preparations are quite thorough.”

When Po Yeong-ui replied with a sneer, Ho Wan-pyeong’s eyes narrowed slightly. He was wearing his usual simple black clothes; the splendid outer robe Po Yeong-ui had specially prepared for him was left on the table, unworn.

“You’re not going to wear it?”

Po Yeong-ui knew of Ho Wan-pyeong’s humble nature, but this was his first official appearance as the Cult Leader. He thought he should display a presence comparable to the overwhelmingly charismatic Heavenly Demon, so he had prepared a magnificent silk dragon robe similar to what Cheonma often wore and offered it to him. But Ho Wan-pyeong just smiled faintly at his question and did not follow his suggestion.

Unlike Po Yeong-ui, Ho Wan-pyeong knew his place. If his handsome master wore this robe, the clothes and his beauty would enhance each other, making him shine even brighter. But for him, with his plain appearance, such an outfit would only serve to emphasize his ordinary looks.

“Stop it. A crow-tit that tries to walk like a stork will only tear itself apart.”

“My Lord.”

In the past, Ho Wan-pyeong would never have admitted that he was no match for Cheonma. His only goal had been to become like him. But in the last few months, there had been a change of heart, and his attitude had shifted considerably.

It wasn't a gloomy resignation, but he no longer blindly followed in Cheonma's footsteps. Despite being the closest to him, Po Yeong-ui didn't know the reason for this change. He had been too busy lately to observe Ho Wan-pyeong carefully.

“They are heading towards the village entrance, my Lord. It seems they are about to make their move.”

Gwak Jin-mu, who had entered the room to deliver the news, paused with a curious look upon finding the two men staring at each other.

Ho Wan-pyeong smiled silently, clapped Po Yeong-ui on the shoulder, and went outside. Po Yeong-ui stood there blankly for a moment before hurriedly following him.

In the small village of less than thirty households, a multitude of people had gathered. Though they were gathered at opposite ends of the village, with thousands of people assembled, the distance between the two groups was barely a few dozen feet.

These were the hand-picked elites of each faction. As a result, even without physical contact, the sharp, honed killing intent of each side clashed tautly. It was an atmosphere like a powder keg, ready to explode if anyone made a rash move.

Ho Wan-pyeong stopped as he spotted the leaders of the enemy forces heading for the village entrance. They too stopped upon seeing his group. The martial artists, who had been exchanging glares, respectfully withdrew their auras upon seeing their leaders.

Ho Wan-pyeong scanned Unfathomable Iron Heaven, the leader of the Righteous Path Alliance, and his entourage. Among them was Gwak Hyo. Standing behind the Heavenly Strategist as if he were a mere subordinate, he watched Ho Wan-pyeong’s group with an interested gaze. Ho Wan-pyeong looked at him with a calm expression before turning his attention to Unfathomable Iron Heaven.

“It is a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I am Ho Wan-pyeong.”

Unfathomable Iron Heaven, Jang Seonghak, was not one of the Ten Venerables, but he was a Enlightened master rumored to be nearly their equal. He had reached such a realm on his own, without a firm foundation like the other Venerables, and his neutrality had earned him the position of leader of the Righteous Path Alliance. In a way, he was an extremely fortunate man.

“So the rumors of a generational change in the Demonic Cult were true. I am Unfathomable Iron Heaven. I hold the position of leader of the Righteous Path Alliance.”

Though they were hostile forces, Ho Wan-pyeong, who was younger and of lower standing, had shown courtesy first. In such a situation, the leader of the Righteous Path Alliance could not ignore him. They exchanged polite greetings unbefitting the tense standoff. But just because their attitudes were polite didn't mean they respected each other inwardly.

Even as they cupped their fists in greeting, they were keenly observing each other. Their eyes were sharp, as if they would strike the moment they found an opening.

“It is an honor to meet the leader of the Righteous Path Alliance in a place like this. But where is the Righteous Path Alliance headed?”

Though he knew their objective, Ho Wan-pyeong asked with a feigned innocence. The leader of the Righteous Path Alliance, who had been waiting for the Demonic Cult's provocation while feigning a march to attack the Wusheng Cult, readily took the bait.

“The objective of our Righteous Path Alliance is known to the entire world. We are on our way to deal with the enemy bandits who have secretly plotted and plunged the Jianghu into chaos.”

He didn't specifically mention the Wusheng Cult, but used the vague term 'enemy bandits,' implying that Jang Seonghak had a different target in mind. At the sharp tongue of the wily old fox, Ho Wan-pyeong smiled faintly.

The old fool probably thought his tongue was quite sharp, but after living by Cheonma’s side for decades, a mere taunt like this wouldn't even make him blink.

“Enemy bandits? I’m not sure what you mean by that. It sounds as if you’re implying that the tragedies that have occurred in the Jianghu have nothing to do with the Righteous Path Alliance. Am I hearing things?”

At Ho Wan-pyeong’s direct provocation, Jang Seonghak’s eyes turned red. A dangerous killing intent erupted from the ranks of the Righteous Path Alliance, who were not ignorant of what his words meant.

Jang Seonghak, with his hands behind his back, looked down at Ho Wan-pyeong. He couldn't understand how Wan-pyeong, who had only reached the Superlative Peak realm, could be so arrogant.

“A young man with too much bravado. For what reason do you ask us such a question, Cult Leader? Are you suggesting that our Righteous Path Alliance was involved in such an unrighteous incident?”

The presence of a man who had been an absolute authority for many years was not to be taken lightly. Though not on the level of Cheonma, Unfathomable Iron Heaven, who had rarely had to bow his head to anyone else, naturally radiated his aura, pressing down on Ho Wan-pyeong.

But Ho Wan-pyeong did not flinch before the aura of a Enlightened master. A blue light shone in his fierce, tiger-like eyes. A hidden power, coiled like a predator with its claws retracted, tensed his firm shoulders.

“So you’re saying you’re not? Do not take our Demonic Cult for blind men, Alliance Leader. Did you think we wouldn't know of the schemes you’ve been plotting? The net of heaven is vast and fine, but it misses nothing.”

“How impudent!”

“What nonsense is this! How dare you frame our Righteous Path Alliance as the backers of the Wusheng Cult!”

The furious shouts came not from Jang Seonghak, but from behind him. The men, who were genuinely enraged at Ho Wan-pyeong for treating the Righteous Path Alliance like a shady criminal organization, roared from all sides. In the simmering atmosphere, as if they would strike at any moment, the warriors of the Demonic Cult also raised their auras.

Unable to watch any longer, Jang Seonghak raised his hand to stop the shouting. Unlike the others who were blindly enraged, his eyes were filled with suspicion. Cheonma surely wouldn't have appointed a fool who couldn't tell right from wrong as his successor. He couldn't understand what Ho Wan-pyeong was relying on to be so provocative.

`If he knows we're involved with the Wusheng Cult, he should be more cautious. What certainty does he have to be so bold?`

It was true that even if their numbers were equal, the Demonic Cult had far more masters. But without Cheonma, they were severely lacking in absolute masters. On his side, there were three Enlightened masters, while on their side, even the Cult Leader was only at the Transcendent stage.

He didn't know how many hidden Enlightened masters they had, but from what he could see, the famous the Space Shrinking Blade and the Thousand Handed Trickster were not among the enemy ranks.

“There is someone else who can confirm whether it’s a frame-up or not. I stopped you because I was asked a favor by them.”

“What?”

“If you were to attack the Wusheng Cult like this, all the evidence of what you’ve done would disappear, wouldn’t it? I cannot simply stand by and pretend not to see this clever trick of a cicada shedding its golden shell.”

Ho Wan-pyeong smiled meaningfully, getting under Jang Seonghak’s skin. But Jang Seonghak was more concerned with the hidden meaning of his words than his impertinent speech.

The Righteous Path Alliance had devoted all its energy to creating a confrontation between the Alliance and the Demonic Cult. They had brought factions that could have interfered under their wing, and those who wouldn't were pruned like stray branches, so they believed they had perfectly cleared the surroundings. But according to Ho Wan-pyeong’s insinuation, it seemed some had slipped through their net.

Tensed by the sudden appearance of a third party, Jang Seonghak instinctively glanced towards Baek Woo-gyeong. Baek Woo-gyeong, standing behind the others, frowned slightly at his glance. Realizing his mistake, Jang Seonghak quickly turned his gaze back to meet Ho Wan-pyeong’s eyes.

“Yin-Yang Sword, how long do you intend to wait? It seems the stage is set.”

Ho Wan-pyeong shouted, looking straight into Jang Seonghak’s eyes.

“Yin-Yang Sword? Did he say Yin-Yang Sword?”

When the title of a man who had recently been identified as a spy for the Demonic Cult and declared a public enemy of the Jianghu was mentioned by Ho Wan-pyeong, a powerful shockwave ran through the Righteous Path Alliance camp.

Yin-Yang Sword, Jo Se-hwa, had been a famous hero with many supporters even in the Orthodox Faction. Though not on the level of his lord, Baek Woo-gyeong, he was a renowned hero who never compromised with injustice and pursued only righteousness. His sudden betrayal to the Demonic Cult had filled countless people with disappointment and anger.

Hearing his call, Jo Se-hwa slowly walked out from among the ranks of the Demonic Cult. He was still wearing the distinctive uniform of the Azure Blood Corps. The bright blue robe and red sash seemed a part of him, suiting him well.

When the people realized he was indeed the Yin-Yang Sword, a deep sigh escaped their lips. The ones most angered by his appearance among the Demonic Cult were none other than his brothers from the Azure Blood Corps.

Song Gisan, who had filled his vacant position after his disappearance, stepped forward. He glared at Jo Se-hwa with eyes full of contempt, as if he were about to spit.

“You filthy traitor. Where do you think you are, daring to show your face? Aren't you ashamed to face the brothers and the Corps Leader to whom you pledged your loyalty?!”

Despite the scathing criticism from a man who had once been like a real brother to him, Jo Se-hwa did not waver. He met the gazes of those around him with a calm, water-like expression and then raised his hands in a deep cupped-fist salute.

“Greetings to all my comrades of the Jianghu. I am Jo Se-hwa, known by the title Yin-Yang Sword.”

“Quiet! Shameless traitor, do you not fear the heavens!”

His greeting was met with shouts from all over. But he still showed no sign of wavering. It seemed he had anticipated this reaction.

“My comrades, please listen to my words! I have dared to come forward today because there is something that must be made clear under the blue sky. I beg you, please remain silent until I have finished my story. After I am done, I will humbly listen to whatever you have to say.”

Jo Se-hwa shouted, his voice imbued with internal energy. His voice, amplified to be heard by the thousands of people, spread to the surrounding mountain peaks and echoed back.

At his remarkably dignified attitude, the warriors of the Righteous Path Alliance, though suspicious, slowly fell silent. There was an unapproachable air about Jo Se-hwa now. To think of him as a simple traitor, both his attitude and the light in his eyes were too extraordinary.

“I know what you have heard, but I am not a traitor. I never colluded with the Demonic Cult beforehand, nor did I ever leak internal information. The accusation that I am a traitor is a clear frame-up, one that arose because the true traitor, whose identity was exposed, shifted his own guilt onto me. I am here now to prove my innocence. I ask that my comrades of the Jianghu understand my plight.”

As the surrounding commotion subsided for a moment, Jo Se-hwa continued with what he wanted to say. But before he could finish, Song Gisan launched a counterattack. He was one of the people who burned with the greatest animosity towards the man known as a traitor.

“This is absurd. I wondered what you were going to say, and it’s just this kind of nonsense? Do you even know who you are accusing of being a traitor?! The one you are framing is our Corps Leader. Jade Qilin Baek Woo-gyeong, the very soul of the Azure Blood Corps! To insult him is to insult the entire Azure Blood Corps!”

Hearing his shout, the other brothers of the Azure Blood Corps also showed faces filled with righteous anger. Jo Se-hwa met Song Gisan’s fury with a calm demeanor.

“Brother Song. Are you certain that man is the Jade Qilin?”

“What are you talking about? If our Corps Leader is not the Jade Qilin, then who could possibly be?”

“I too believed he was Baek Woo-gyeong until I saw his true face. But he is not. He is not the soul of our Azure Blood Corps, nor is he the real Baek Woo-gyeong. If he were the man we believed in, he would not have orchestrated the tragedy at Mount Daebyeol. He would not have used the Wusheng Cult to plunge the Jianghu into chaos, nor would he have manipulated the Hundred Ghosts Night Parade from behind the scenes.”

“Jo Se-hwa, you villain! Where do you get off spouting such nonsense!”

Song Gisan found it hard to believe his claims. Not only did he not believe them, but he dismissed everything as Jo Se-hwa’s shameless ploy and burned with even greater fury, glaring at him as if to devour him.

“Brother Song, did you not lose your younger brother in the incident at Mount Daebyeol? Open your eyes and see clearly who you have been dedicating your loyalty to! That man is not Baek Woo-gyeong, but a man named Gwak Hyo. A traitor of the Demonic Cult, a true villain who fled after a failed assassination attempt on Cheonma. All the bloodshed that has occurred in the Jianghu until now was a scheme born from his mind.”

Jo Se-hwa relentlessly exposed Baek Woo-gyeong’s identity. But despite his claim, which sounded like he was coughing up blood, no one believed him. Instead, they stared at Jo Se-hwa blankly with incredulous expressions.

The warriors of the Righteous Path Alliance, who had thought he must have some hidden card up his sleeve to appear so confidently, were filled with a sense of futility. They couldn't understand what Jo Se-hwa was thinking by making such a claim. Who in their right mind would believe such an absurd story? Was he trying to take someone down with him? Of all people, the Jade Qilin was a traitor?

“You have just insulted the pure reputation of my nephew. How do you intend to repay that debt?”

This time, it was not Song Gisan who stepped forward, but Baek Woo-gyeong’s maternal uncle, the Heavenly Strategist. Zhuge Bu looked at Jo Se-hwa, who was spouting nonsensical words, with a pathetic gaze.

He was not deaf; he had heard the recent rumors. But knowing all the facts, he didn't believe in the existence of this Gwak Hyo at all.

Everything that had happened in the Jianghu until now had been a joint effort between him and Baek Woo-gyeong. The matter of the Qilin Plaque, the chaos caused by the Wusheng Cult, the Hundred Ghosts Night Parade—it was all their doing. What did he care about some Gwak Hyo or whatever his name was?

`Did Cheonma really put a complete fool behind him? The saying 'a tiger father does not beget a dog son' must be all nonsense.`

Zhuge Bu, finding the Demonic Cult's absurd ploy laughable, couldn't help but click his tongue.

“This time, I will ask. How are you so certain he is your nephew? Because his appearance resembles your kin? Or because his heart and mind are just like yours?”

A hoary voice flew from somewhere and returned the question to Zhuge Bu. Zhuge Bu, turning his head to see who dared to question him, was startled to see a group of beggars slowly walking down the mountain path, and he straightened his back. A group of hundreds of beggars, led by an old beggar with a ten-knot rope around his waist, was descending from the mountain.

The old beggar, leaning on a green bamboo staff—a symbol of the Beggars’ Sect—and wearing rags that were heavily patched even for a beggar, was none other than the Dragon Head Elder of the Beggars’ Sect, Hundred Strike Beggar Gu Jangbang.

Behind him followed a young beggar with the mark of a successor, and all ten of the eight-knot elders were also present. The other beggars with them were all disciples who looked to be at least First-Rate.

As each one was a formidable master, both the Demonic Cult and the Righteous Path Alliance grew tense. Truly, the majesty of the world’s number one sect. The full force they had chosen to reveal was not lacking compared to the Righteous Path Alliance or the Demonic Cult.

“What brings you here, Dragon Head Elder? We had no idea you were coming.”

Hundred Strike Beggar Gu Jangbang was the senior of Pyo-ui-gae and one of the most senior elders of the Orthodox Faction.

Zhuge Bu, his expression awkward, inquired after his well-being on behalf of the Righteous Path Alliance leaders. The other leaders, who couldn't ignore his appearance, also offered their greetings. But Hundred Strike Beggar ignored their greetings and stared at Zhuge Bu with piercing eyes.

“Enough with the empty pleasantries. Just answer my question. How are you so certain he is your nephew?”

“What do you mean by that all of a sudden? It’s a matter of course, isn't it? How could I doubt my own flesh and blood?”

“Heh heh heh. So blood is thicker than water, is it? Well, you’re not wrong. Our Beggars’ Sect too has been wandering in a fog for a long time because of such sentiment.”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“It means we have found out everything you have been up to. Perhaps we’ve even found out things you don’t know. At the very least, I know that man is not your real nephew. Yin-Yang Sword is right. That man is not Baek Woo-gyeong, but Gwak Hyo. I can vouch for that.”

The people who hadn't believed Jo Se-hwa's claims for lack of evidence could not ignore the guarantee of the Beggars’ Sect Elder. Who could possibly dismiss the word of the man with the best eyes and ears in the world as a lie? The shocked martial artists turned to look at Baek Woo-gyeong with expressions of horror.

`What does he mean? So he’s really not the Jade Qilin?`

`He’s a traitor from the Demonic Cult, and the mastermind behind all this chaos?`

When the situation reached this point, Gwak Hyo could no longer remain silent. He pushed his way through the crowd and cupped his fists before the Beggars’ Sect Elder.

“A pleasure to meet you for the first time. I am the Jade Qilin.”

Even in front of the man who had revealed his identity, Gwak Hyo called himself the Jade Qilin. The Beggars’ Sect Elder, who was looking at him with a seasoned gaze, smiled coldly and shook his head.

“I already know who you are. Do you intend to wear a mask even in front of me? I know better than anyone that you are not the Jade Qilin.”

“No, Elder. I am the Jade Qilin. You may have meant that I am not Baek Woo-gyeong, but the title of Jade Qilin was not earned by the real Baek Woo-gyeong, but by me. So it certainly refers to me.”

When he calmly admitted his identity in front of everyone, the warriors of the Righteous Path Alliance who were watching him fell into a state of confusion. The men who had believed themselves to be on the side of justice without a hint of shame felt a shock as if the heavens and earth were turning upside down, and they couldn't come to their senses.

The fact that he was Gwak Hyo was the most certain evidence for the claim that the Righteous Path Alliance was behind the Wusheng Cult. That meant, as the Demonic Cult claimed, they themselves might have played a part in the conspiracy. The proud warriors of the Orthodox Faction had suddenly been reduced to the same level as the Wusheng Cult. They, who had lived on their pride alone, had never experienced such a humiliating and shocking event.

The most shocked of all was Zhuge Bu. Hearing the confession that the man he had believed to be his nephew was not, he trembled as if struck by lightning.

“…That boy was not my nephew?”

Zhuge Bu repeated the words to himself as if he had become an idiot. If that man was not his nephew, if the boy who had done everything with him until now was not his true flesh and blood… then where was his real nephew?

“W-what is this…”

But Gwak Hyo paid no attention to Zhuge Bu, whose usefulness had expired.

He smiled gently and looked at the Beggars’ Sect Elder who had spoiled his fun. A serene, painted smile and a cold gaze met in mid-air. Hundred Strike Beggar carefully studied Gwak Hyo’s face with a contemptuous look.

“That face is one I know well. Not a Sword Hero, but the face of Cheonma himself. Did no one recognize you while you were walking around with that face? They’re all so dull-witted.”

Hundred Strike Beggar clicked his tongue and muttered to himself.

“It was something the Beggars’ Sect was unaware of for decades. I don't think you're in a position to blame others.”

“True. You’re not wrong. Who could argue if I said the Beggars’ Sect’s eyes had gone blind, seeing as we didn't even know a viper like you was coiled among the leaders of the Righteous Path Alliance? You’ve held on quite cleverly for the past twenty years. I’ve lived for nearly a hundred years, but I’ve never met a man as cunning as you.”

“Thank you for the compliment. That is the only talent I can boast of.”

Gwak Hyo replied with perfect composure. Now that his identity was revealed, there was no need to wear Baek Woo-gyeong’s face any longer. He removed his disguise and revealed his true face to the eyes of the world.

Before their eyes, one man's face transformed into another's. At the sight, which seemed like black magic, people’s eyes narrowed.

The dazzlingly handsome and dignified hero instantly transformed into the most despicable and cunning schemer in the world. Indeed, a snake-like face. His true appearance wasn't particularly ugly, but because his previous face had been so beautiful, the difference felt even greater.

People shuddered as they watched Gwak Hyo’s transformation. Deep sighs and groans rippled through the ranks of the Righteous Path Alliance warriors.

“Now, I believe everyone knows the truth. All the horrific events that have transpired in the Jianghu were the doings of this man. We have been swept up in his schemes and have sacrificed countless lives. Now that we know everything was a conspiracy, will you continue to be played by him? Our Righteous Path Alliance is the foundation that protects the spirit of the central plains. Without a great cause and justification, we lose our very foundation! Do not be deceived any longer, open your eyes. The Righteous-Demonic War that was about to happen has no value other than to satisfy his ambition!”

Not missing the opportunity, Jo Se-hwa stepped forward and spoke eloquently. This time, even Song Gisan could not refute him.

The warriors of the Righteous Path Alliance who heard Jo Se-hwa’s story were clearly shaken. Some of them, who had already heard the story from Jo Se-hwa, sighed deeply. They had been skeptical and hadn't fully believed his words, but seeing this scene before their eyes, they felt a deep sense of doubt about what they had been doing.

“Amitabha. Your words were true, benefactor. I had hoped they weren't…”

Jeong Ryeon, a high-ranking nun from the Emei Sect, exclaimed the Buddha’s name with a devastated expression. She and the others who had been in contact with Jo Se-hwa shook their heads or sighed, looking dumbfounded.

The unease was not limited to the masters; the ordinary warriors were also stirred. They were shocked to learn that they, who had believed themselves to be on the side of justice, had instead been complicit in a conspiracy, and they began to murmur and exchange opinions among themselves.

It was clear to anyone that the tide had turned. The Elder of the Beggars’ Sect had revealed Gwak Hyo’s identity, and he himself had admitted it. In this situation, it seemed there was nothing he could do.

“You always fall for the same trick. Didn’t you learn your lesson last time? You’re just as helpless against the same method this time.”

Cornered on all four sides. Gwak Jin-mu, looking at his father who was surrounded by enemies, couldn't help but mock him. But Gwak Hyo, who had maintained a surprisingly calm demeanor, actually started to laugh at his son’s words.

A quiet but meaningful smile formed on his lips. With his hands clasped behind his back, he proudly surveyed the scene and then spoke to his mocking son in a light voice.

“Helpless? Of course not. You underestimate your father too much. Didn’t I tell you? It won’t be so easy next time.”

“Is that so? To me, it looks like a cornered man making empty boasts.”

“That's why you are still a child. A man must always be looking one step ahead.”

As Gwak Hyo finished speaking with a smile and raised his hand, screams suddenly erupted from all directions, as if to prove his words. A startled Gwak Jin-mu frantically looked around. Hundred Strike Beggar, too, seemed unable to grasp the sudden turn of events and looked at Gwak Hyo with a bewildered expression.

“Wait, what is this? What’s with all this…?”

“It seems your judgment has clouded with age. Is it a characteristic of the Beggars’ Sect to not know when to step forward and when not to? If you had just stayed put, you would have seen a beautifully shining Righteous world. But because you meddled senselessly, you won't get to see that wonderful world.”

A moment ago, a comrade he had been discussing things with drew a blade and stabbed him in the neck. There were also those who were cut down by the very sect brothers who had always guarded their backs. Friends and brothers until now suddenly turned and attacked the very people who had trusted them.

The warriors of the Righteous Path Alliance screamed in confusion and terror. At the same time, a group of people slipped through the chaos of the fighting. Their movements were so perfectly coordinated it was as if they knew this would happen.

Their identity was the group of collaborators who had been working with Gwak Hyo all along. The remaining eight of the Nine Sects, excluding the Beggars’ Sect and Kunlun, the Five Great Families, and the Alliance Leader himself and his direct martial force. As if prearranged, they stood behind Gwak Hyo, facing the rest of the people with hostility.

“W-what is this!”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say. The Orthodox Faction’s grudge against Cheonma was greater than I expected. There were friends who willingly cooperated even after learning my identity. Of course, there were a few who just wouldn't listen…”

As he said this, Gwak Hyo glanced at Zhuge Bu. Zhuge Bu, betrayed first by Gwak Hyo and then by his own family, stared blankly at the unfolding situation with disbelief.

“But most were skilled at reading the tides. Ah, and of course, the legacy left by our ancestors was also a great help.”

Thanks to Gwak Hyo’s work over the years, an unknown number of lower-ranking warriors in the Righteous Path Alliance had been poisoned by the Guodu Worm. They had unknowingly become Gwak Hyo’s hidden blades, and he had used them effectively at the most opportune moment.

The people, betrayed by those they thought were allies, died in an instant, unable to even properly resist. They were mainly those who opposed the leading factions of the Righteous Path Alliance, or those whose power had grown enough to threaten the Nine Sects One Union. Of course, among them were also upright individuals who would have opposed the current path of the Righteous Path Alliance, most of whom were the ones Jo Se-hwa had contacted beforehand.

“You heaven-defying villains! And you still dare to call yourselves the Orthodox Faction?!”

Enraged by the horrific scene unfolding before his eyes, Hundred Strike Beggar let out a roar like a lion. He was more furious with the factions of the Eight Sects who were obediently following Gwak Hyo than with Gwak Hyo himself, who had orchestrated this tragedy. The elite disciples of the Beggars’ Sect who had followed him also trembled with righteous indignation. But Gwak Hyo just smiled silently at his tremendous fury. A cold, icy smile flowed from his intelligent eyes.

“Of course they are the Orthodox Faction. After today’s battle, their names will shine even more brilliantly.”

As he raised his hand once more, black shadows rose from the surrounding mountain peaks. They were the public enemies of the Jianghu who had been hidden under the name of the Wusheng Cult in the Black Demon Prison.

Not only had they recovered their former martial skills, but they had also taken the Blood Tear Pills, achieving an even higher level of mastery. They looked down at the rats trapped in a jar with triumphant expressions and let out vicious, murderous smiles.

“For the glory of the Orthodox Faction, and for the Righteous Path Alliance. You must disappear now, Elder.”

As soon as Gwak Hyo’s words ended, Hundred Strike Beggar felt a searing pain in his side. Like the others, he had never expected to be attacked from behind and turned to look with shocked eyes.

The one who had attacked him was, unbelievably, his own successor, Righteous Beggar of the Flying Shadow. The successor, with a dazed look as if possessed, swung a dagger he had hidden in his sleeve.

Threatened with his life by the disciple he had cherished like a grandson, Hundred Strike Beggar blocked the dagger with his hand in a hurry. But even with a protective aura, a human hand could not block a dagger that could cut through steel like tofu.

Half of the fingers on Hundred Strike Beggar’s right hand were severed on the spot. The shocked elders rushed to block the successor’s path, but they couldn't stop his assassination attempt aimed at Hundred Strike Beggar’s life.

Unable to watch any longer, Ho Wan-pyeong gave an order to the warriors of the Demonic Cult. If this continued, everything would go according to Gwak Hyo’s plan.

“Attack! Do not let them achieve their goal!”

At his command, the warriors of the Demonic Cult, who were already itching for a fight, let out a war cry and charged at the enemy. Gwak Hyo’s group, as if they had been waiting, also turned their blades on the Demonic Cult members. The remnants of the Wusheng Cult did not stand by either. They leaped down into the basin like a crashing wave and joined the fray.

The battle, with three forces entangled, turned into a desperate melee. This was a fight where one had to kill others to survive. A bloody struggle of survival of the fittest, where the survivor would become justice, and the winner would take all.

Both Ho Wan-pyeong and Gwak Hyo had bet everything on this one battle. It didn't take long for the quiet mountain village to transform into a hellscape filled with blood and screams.

Anyone whose face was unknown was an enemy, and even those he knew could not be trusted. In their fight, where only one's self could be trusted, the weak were the first to be sacrificed.

A rain of blood poured down like a welcome shower on the barren soil where not even grain could grow properly. Lumps of meat that had once been people were laid to rest on the ground, one after another. A horrific tragedy that one could not bear to watch unfolded everywhere.

The Righteous-Demonic War, the first in over forty years, had thus brutally begun.

***

**Gasp. Gasp. Gasp.**

Munpyeong ran, squeezing out every last bit of qi he could muster. He had never run so desperately in his entire life. If necessary, he would have willingly drawn upon his innate qi. Despite giving it his all, he despaired at how slow his legs were. No matter how much internal energy he squeezed out, it felt like he couldn't reach the speed he wanted.

`I can’t be late. If I am, he will die. No matter how powerful he is, he can’t face nine of the Ten Venerables alone!`

Even as he ran until he was breathless, his mind was filled with only Cheonma.

The man who had smiled so arrogantly while surrounded by nine of the strongest people in the world, second only to himself. The man who, even in the face of a life-or-death crisis, had put Munpyeong’s safety before his own.

There had never been anyone like him in Munpyeong’s life. Cheonma was spiteful but affectionate, a man who spoke only the most annoying words yet whom he could never bring himself to hate. He acted brusquely but never forgot to take care of Munpyeong. He teased and tormented him, but in crucial moments, he always yielded to him. He was the man who had prioritized him above all else. Arrogant and conceited, sometimes unbelievably obnoxious, but he was the only person in the world who would say, "You are more important than thousands of other lives."

When had Cheonma crept so deeply into his heart? No matter how hard Munpyeong thought, he couldn't recall the first moment he had come to care for him.

At first, he was sure he had hated him, but at some point, it had become this. Even when he found out he had deceived him by posing as Yun Seung-hyo, he had resented and loathed him, but now, he yearned for his life more than anything. He didn't want to lose the man who always thought only of him. No matter how wicked or bad he was, to Munpyeong, Cheonma was one of a kind.

He wanted to save him. He wanted to continue to be with him. It might be a different feeling from what he felt for Yun Seung-hyo, but perhaps this too was love.

`You must stay alive. You have to hold on until I get back. If you don't, I will resent you. I will resent and hate you. To tame a person like this and then irresponsibly abandon them… Take responsibility, my Lord. For everything you have done to me, for the very heart you gave me, this time, you must take full responsibility!`

His eyes were so red that he couldn't see clearly. Munpyeong wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and circulated his qi. In an instant, trees and forests disappeared, and rocks fell behind.

In the distance, he faintly heard the sounds of clashing blades and rough shouts. The familiar sounds of a battlefield. The sound of death. Sensing that trouble had already broken out in Jangchon, Munpyeong flew even faster. He hoped he wasn't too late. He had to be able to bring back at least a few reinforcements.

But the scene he saw when he reached the mountain ridge shattered all the hope he had carried with him on his run. Below him, a battle more fierce than any he had ever seen was unfolding.

Men, focused only on killing each other, had created mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. So much blood had flowed that the ground was slick and muddy. A mire of blood had formed. The village was in ruins from the force of their energy and sword qi. The fights between the masters were even more brutal; even the other fighters tried to stay away from them.

Munpyeong focused his vision and searched for Ho Wan-pyeong. It wasn't easy to find one person in the chaotic melee, but fortunately, Ho Wan-pyeong was one of the top masters. He was among those fighting with the most space around them. Beside him, Gwak Jin-mu and Po Yeong-ui were fighting together.

Even from a distance, he could see the black and blue shadows flickering. It was a fight between at least Superlative Peak masters, and even from this distance, he could feel the intense shockwaves. But Munpyeong knew that only they could save Cheonma. At the very least, without the martial prowess of someone like Ho Wan-pyeong, he couldn't help Cheonma against the Ten Venerables.

With firm resolve, Munpyeong bravely leaped into the melee. Gripping the saber at his waist, he drew upon his sparse lightning qi using the Heavenly Thunder Divine Art.

His martial skill was still shallow, so he couldn't display an impressive presence, but the Heavenly Thunder Divine Art was the strongest martial art he knew. Against an unbeatable master it would be useless, but against someone of a similar level, it might have a decent effect.

“Aargh! Aaaaargh!”

“You son of a bitch! Die!”

The battlefield, where life and death danced, did not spare Munpyeong. As soon as he jumped into the fray, a man with crazed eyes swung a long spear at his head. A spear master of some repute would have refined techniques, but the man’s movements were utterly chaotic. Realizing the man had half-lost his mind from excessive killing, Munpyeong lightly swung his saber and broke the spear shaft.

The series of movements—touching the spear shaft with his saber, sending a current of lightning qi to paralyze the opponent, cutting the center of the spear, and kicking the opponent's stomach—was as smooth as if he had practiced it beforehand.

As the man fell back, another man with a flail filled the gap. The sleek black clothes and familiar greaves and arm guards looked familiar. Thinking this man might be from the Demonic Cult, Munpyeong shouted.

“I’m from the Soul-Slaying Squad! Get lost!”

Fortunately, the man understood his words in time and backed off.

It was no easy task to fight his way through a chaotic battlefield alone. Men with crazed eyes charged at anyone holding a blade, and whenever he couldn't avoid it, Munpyeong had to kill or injure them.

In such a recurring situation, he couldn't remain unscathed. Streaks of blood appeared on his body, marks from being cut and torn by others’ weapons. But even this was a stroke of immense luck. If not for his excellently executed footwork, he would not have escaped with such minor injuries.

Having run up hundreds of feet of mountain path at a stretch and jumping into a fierce battle without even catching his breath, Munpyeong soon felt his internal energy running low. Though he had opened his Life and Death Gate and could freely control his qi, he was still only at the peak realm. He had not yet fully mastered the internal energy of a Superlative Peak master, and not knowing how to use it effectively, he wasted much of it.

As time went on, the saber in his hand grew heavier. The blade, slick with human blood and oil, was dulling by the second. He felt as if he had already killed nearly ten people since entering the battlefield, yet he hadn't even reached halfway to Ho Wan-pyeong.

Gritting his teeth, Munpyeong deflected a hidden weapon aimed at his neck and glared. There was no time to waste here. At this very moment, Cheonma’s life was on the line. If he hesitated and missed his chance, it would be a regret that would last a thousand autumns. Munpyeong didn't want to live with such a regret in his heart.

Knowing his internal energy was low, Munpyeong executed the Reversing the River's Flow technique. He moved behind the man who had shot sword qi at him, and before the man could catch up, he used the same technique again to escape his range.

The repeated use of the demanding technique roiled his blood and qi, causing blood to rise in his throat. Munpyeong swallowed the mouthful of blood and used the Reversing the River's Flow technique again. Without clashing blades with anyone, without wasting time, he deftly weaved through the crowd.

After using the same method three or four more times, he felt a dizziness he could no longer bear. His chest was already soaked in blood from the continuous surge of blood. But thanks to his efforts, he was able to get close to Ho Wan-pyeong. It was only then that he could recognize the opponents the three of the Four Demon Sages were fighting.

The man Gwak Jin-mu and Po Yeong-ui were ganging up on was a ferocious master who wielded black qi in both hands. Despite having a gentle, immortal-like face, his attacks were vicious.

Munpyeong, who had once been formally received as a guest of the Righteous Path Alliance, recognized the opponent at a glance. He was Unfathomable Iron Heaven, Jang Seonghak, a master of the Righteous Path Alliance. He was wielding his signature technique, which was also his title, and fiercely pressing the two Superlative Peak masters.

But even Jang Seonghak was no match for the opponent Ho Wan-pyeong was fighting. The man Ho Wan-pyeong was facing alone was none other than Gwak Hyo. Surprisingly, Ho Wan-pyeong was fighting on equal footing with the Enlightened master Gwak Hyo, not falling behind.

Contrary to what was known, he was not a Transcendent master, but a Enlightened one. Their fight was so perilous that even Unfathomable Iron Heaven kept his distance. For someone of Munpyeong’s realm, just watching from afar was almost unbearable.

The Soul-Cleaving Saber, cut at Gwak Hyo with the weight of a mountain. Gwak Hyo, wielding a slender rapier, attacked Ho Wan-pyeong’s openings with a cunning and fierce style.

Their fight was like watching a tiger and a one-horned dragon. Gwak Hyo's swordsmanship, specialized in piercing rather than cutting, was sharp and filled with killing intent, while Ho Wan-pyeong's saber style was grand and domineering, their temperaments a stark contrast.

Each time their weapons clashed, a terrifying shockwave spread out. No matter how hard he tried, Munpyeong couldn't get close to them. Anxious, Munpyeong, knowing that he might distract Ho Wan-pyeong, shouted anyway. To him, Cheonma’s safety was more important than the decisive battle unfolding before his eyes.

“We’re in trouble, Corps Leader! The Cult Leader is in danger!”

For Munpyeong, the Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult was, and always would be, Cheonma. Before he left the cult, Ho Wan-pyeong hadn't been a proper cult leader, so he wasn't used to calling anyone but Cheonma by that title.

Ho Wan-pyeong, who had been focused on his opponent without looking around, lifted his face at Munpyeong’s shout. To be honest, for Ho Wan-pyeong too, ‘Cult Leader’ meant his master, so he couldn't help but react instinctively to Munpyeong’s words.

It was only then that he noticed Munpyeong, looking like a ragged cloth, had reached his vicinity. He looked around with shocked eyes and asked about his master’s safety.

“What happened? Where is Master now?”

“He was ambushed on his way here. A total of nine of the Ten Venerables ambushed him!”

“What?!”

Sparks flew from Ho Wan-pyeong’s eyes. Gwak Jin-mu and Po Yeong-ui, who were struggling against Unfathomable Iron Heaven, were also shocked, their eyes wide.

`Well, well. I can’t tell if he’s friend or foe.`

Gwak Hyo smiled faintly, feeling grateful to Munpyeong for decisively shaking the heart of his difficult opponent.

Seeing Cheonma’s precious little bird arrive alone in such a state, it seemed the Ten Venerables he had sent were doing their job well. Indeed, he had overdone it, thinking it was better to have more than not enough. But to make each sect lose their only Enlightened master, he would have to pay a hefty price. To accept such a loss just to eliminate Cheonma was not a profitable deal for him either.

“Still using only despicable tricks. You sent nine Enlightened masters to deal with one man?”

According to the common sense of the Jianghu, not even a great immortal, let alone Cheonma, could survive such a trap. A dumbfounded Ho Wan-pyeong glared at Gwak Hyo with eyes sharpened with malice.

Even under a gaze that could dismember him with a look, Gwak Hyo just shrugged nonchalantly. A cruel satisfaction flickered across his lips.

“What are you talking about? The truly despicable one isn't me, but Cheonma. For a being to exist that requires nine Enlightened masters just to barely face, isn't that cheating? If you want to blame someone for unfairness, you should blame him, not me. He is unfairness itself.”

Gwak Hyo said with perfect composure and a slight smile.

Enraged, Ho Wan-pyeong ground his teeth and gripped his Soul-Cleaving Saber even tighter. The sharp saber, said to suppress even the soul, began to emit a menacing saber aura.

Without looking back, he called for his guards. The Demon Shadows, who had followed him since Cheonma subdued them, were hiding in the shadows even in this fierce battle, protecting their master’s safety.

“All Demon Shadows, listen! Leave this place at once and go to the Grand Cult Leader! If anything happens to him, be prepared to offer your own necks!”

“As you command!”

“You will lead the Demon Shadows and return to Master at once. I will handle things here.”

Worried about his master's safety, Ho Wan-pyeong gave his last lifeline entirely to Munpyeong. A shocked Po Yeong-ui tried to object, but Unfathomable Iron Heaven's presence was too powerful for him to speak.

“Senior Brother!”

Po Yeong-ui, unable to finish his sentence, glared at him resentfully. But Ho Wan-pyeong pretended not to see his gaze and hurried Munpyeong.

“Go now. Hurry!”

“I can’t let that happen. Do you think I would just stand by and watch?”

If, by some chance, Cheonma survived this, all his work until now would be for nothing. He, who knew well how merciless Cheonma was to his enemies, would not be foolish enough to leave a loose end.

Gwak Hyo instantly turned and thrust at Munpyeong’s neck. It was a ploy to slow down the Demon Shadows by silencing the one who knew Cheonma’s location. A horrified Ho Wan-pyeong hastily intervened, but it was useless. Gwak Hyo, thinking Munpyeong was a more urgent target than Ho Wan-pyeong, began to seriously aim for him.

It was a struggle to follow the bizarre movements of the incredibly nimble rapier with a heavy greatsword. Moreover, Ho Wan-pyeong had never had any experience fighting while protecting someone.

Unlike when they were fighting head-on, with his back covered, Ho Wan-pyeong’s hands and feet became clumsy. Munpyeong tried to take advantage of the gap to flee, but the cunning Gwak Hyo did not allow him to escape.

In a short time, numerous exchanges passed. Gwak Hyo, trying to kill Munpyeong, and Ho Wan-pyeong, trying to get him out, clashed violently with Munpyeong in the middle. Because of their attacks, Munpyeong’s perfectly fine clothes were torn, and his arms and legs suffered even more severe sword wounds than before.

Munpyeong, his hair a mess from the sword wind, gripped his saber and glared fiercely at Gwak Hyo. Seeing his impudent eyes, Gwak Hyo’s lips twisted into a sardonic sneer. The sight of a mere male concubine, a bug, with such defiant eyes grated on his nerves.

“Just because you’ve been with Cheonma for a while, you seem to have mistaken your own worth. You’re nothing but a semen receptacle, yet you have such impudent eyes.”

When Gwak Hyo openly mocked his status, Munpyeong did not take it lying down. To him, Gwak Hyo was an enemy he would gladly tear to shreds.

“Shut up, you son of a bitch!”

“How has a worm like you, who doesn't know his place, survived this long? Don't be too sad. You might reach the underworld before Cheonma. You were such a loving pair of phoenixes in life, perhaps you'll become a pair of lovebirds in death.”

Gwak Hyo felt a considerable satisfaction at the opportunity to mutilate the person Cheonma cherished. He couldn't kill Cheonma with his own hands, but if he killed his most beloved lover, it would be enough to repay the debt to his wife.

Gwak Hyo extended his sword and aimed for Munpyeong’s forehead. He wanted to tear that insignificant face to shreds. He didn't know why Cheonma had taken a liking to such a man, but the fact that he was Cheonma’s lover was reason enough to kill him.

“Even when you beat a dog, you look at its master. What do you trust in to so carelessly pluck my weed? When you see a flowerbed, you should first think there might be an owner. As I always think, your head is truly just for decoration.”

Just as the sharp energy of the rapier was about to split Munpyeong’s head in two, a bored voice was heard from above Gwak Hyo, and something large and round flew fiercely at his face. Gwak Hyo was startled by the immense force, which was all he could do to dodge.

He hastily retracted his sword and retreated. Right where he had been standing, something like a broken watermelon fell with a thud.

Human skull and brains were shattered and scattered on the ground. He was too disoriented to see the face clearly, but the features looked familiar. A chill ran down Gwak Hyo’s spine, and before he could compose himself, another round object was shot at him. He instinctively extended his sword and pierced it, but he couldn't withstand the strong rebound of internal energy and stumbled back several steps.

Looking down with shocked eyes, he saw a human head impaled on his sword.

The head, dripping with fresh blood as if just killed, was none other than Sado Hong’s.

“W-what is this…”

The head of Sado Hong, one of the Ten Venerables, was impaled on his sword, with only the neck remaining.

His heart dropping, Gwak Hyo stared up in disbelief. As he raised his head, several more heads rained down from the sky. The heads, in various Daoist and Buddhist styles, flew past Gwak Hyo’s head and rolled at his feet.

Exactly ten. Ten heads. Gwak Hyo realized that in life, these ten heads had been known as the Ten Venerables and Peerless Soul of Sorrow.

Above, an unbelievably powerful aura swirled. An immense presence, impossible to believe from a human, filled the entire battlefield. The warriors, who had been screaming and fighting to kill each other, froze like frogs before a snake at the terrifying aura.

Survival of the fittest. The people of the Jianghu, who had lived in a world where only the strong survive, instinctively recognized someone stronger than themselves. The person who had just appeared before them was the strongest of the strong. The one and only, absolute master.

The man descending slowly through the air, as if on steps made of air, was a handsome man with a face as beautiful as a celestial being and a body like a sculpture.

People recognized him just by his face. There was no one else in the world today who could possess such an aura and presence. He was Cheonma. Hyeokryeon Sang. The number one in the world, and the number one demon in the world. And perhaps, the number one in all of history.

“I almost died from the weight of carrying all these. If you had sent just one or two, I could have carried them easily, but with ten heads, it took a great deal of effort just to not drop them.”

Cheonma flicked his hands, which had been holding the heads, as if annoyed, and muttered to himself. He spoke as if it were nothing, but the heads rolling at his feet spoke volumes about the true meaning of his words.

All nine of the Ten Venerables, excluding Tiger Hero Pan Cheon, had died at his hands. They hadn't been defeated one by one, but had attacked simultaneously and lost their lives all at once. Cheonma also had torn clothes and scratches on his cheeks, but those were hardly enough to suggest he had just come through a life-or-death battle.

It was, by any measure, an overwhelming victory for Cheonma. The majority of the Ten Venerables attacking together had been no match for him. The martial artists who witnessed this incredible scene with their own eyes were at a loss for words. Not only were they at a loss for words, but frankly, they had lost all will to fight.

“H-how could this, how could this be?”

Gwak Hyo, who had been certain he could kill Cheonma this time, stammered, unable to form words. His mind, which always had a next move ready no matter what, was completely blank.

He knew Cheonma was strong, but he had never imagined he would be this absurdly strong. This was not a man, but a monster. Even for a Profound master, how could something like this be possible?

“To answer such questions one by one, I don’t think our relationship was ever that friendly. Besides, I made a vow after the last incident, so I can’t listen to you for long.”

“W-what?”

Cheonma reached his blood-soaked hand towards Gwak Hyo’s head. When that hand, which was more like a weapon of mass destruction than a human hand, was aimed at his vital point, a startled Gwak Hyo instinctively tried to dodge. But his attempt was not successful this time. Cheonma did not allow it.

As Cheonma strongly clenched the hand he had extended towards Gwak Hyo’s head, Gwak Hyo’s head was crushed beneath his grip like soft tofu. With his entire face shattered, his body slowly tilted and fell to the ground.

A suffocating silence fell over the vast battlefield. Everyone was mesmerized by the sight.

The mastermind behind all the conspiracies had died an absurd death. The cunning man who had lived for over twenty years wearing another’s mask, who had instigated the Righteous Path Alliance to commit inhuman acts, who had used the Guodu Worm to turn others into puppets, and who had even managed to get eight of the Nine Sects One Union under his control—this once-in-a-generation hero's head had been simply blown away by a single gesture from Cheonma.

It was a frustratingly empty death. Not only the dead man, but even the living were left feeling hollow at the sight. In the presence of Cheonma, a life spent struggling with fierce desires became nothing in an instant. All the others present felt their own existence to be as insignificant as a microbe.

Cheonma, that unbelievably grandiose being, was a colossal wall that a mere human could never hope to overcome.

“I kept my promise, Munpyeong. I came back alive as you asked. So you’ll forgive me now, right? Though I don’t know what I did wrong in the first place.”

Cheonma, flicking the blood from his hands, turned to Munpyeong and smiled. Munpyeong, who had been frantic with worry that he might die just moments ago, stared up at Cheonma with eyes as wide as they could possibly be.

**Drip. Drip. Drip.** Tears began to fall from Munpyeong’s eyes again. This time, they were not tears of sadness, but tears of relief. He blinked a few times as if in disbelief and then, with trembling lips, called out to him.

“My Lord…”

Each time he blinked, tears streamed down his cheeks. Others might have thought, what’s a grown man crying for? but Cheonma thought his face was like a pear blossom wet with rain.

Unable to contain his emotions, Munpyeong ran and threw himself into Cheonma’s arms. He, who was so conscious of others’ eyes, paid no attention to their gazes. Like a nursing babe who had found its lost mother, he clung to him, calling his name again and again.

“My Lord, my Lord! Oh my god. My Lord! You’re really safe.”

“Yes, yes. I’m safe. Didn’t I say I keep my promises?”

“I really thought you were going to die. I thought you wouldn't survive this time. This time, this time, I really…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Little one. I told you not to cry. If you keep crying like that, your eyes will get sore.”

Not even the Demon Shadows, let alone his disciples, the Four Demon Kings, had ever seen Cheonma soothe someone so gently. And ‘little one’? Who was the little one? Was it this man, who was over thirty and covered in sword wounds?

Everyone present experienced a shocking sensation as if their souls were leaving their bodies as they watched the two. The two were flaunting their relationship with a passionate display of affection, completely ignoring the gazes of thousands. Cheonma held Munpyeong’s waist as if embracing a beautiful woman and gently comforted him. Munpyeong buried his head in his chest and cried and cried.

People watched the scene of Cheonma kissing the top of Munpyeong’s head, thinking their eyes were going to rot. A celestial beauty who had descended from the heavens was embracing a mud-covered man who looked like he had just crawled up from the ground, cradling him like a jewel.

***

It is known in the Jianghu that the Second Righteous-Demonic War came to a sudden end when Cheonma, who had single-handedly defeated the Ten Venerables, appeared on the battlefield. He had defeated nine Enlightened masters on his own and severed the last line of the Kongtong Sect.

The masters he killed that day were not all. He killed Gwak Hyo and, at the same time, executed the leaders of the eight sects who had actively collaborated with him. The heads of the Five Great Families were also dealt with. They were forced to commit suicide on the condition that their wrongdoings would not be blamed on their sects.

After the masterminds of the conspiracy were eliminated, Cheonma thoroughly cleaned up the aftermath. He used both the Righteous Path Alliance and the Demonic Cult to wipe out the remnants of the Wusheng Cult. The cave where the Black Demon Prison was located was sealed with molten rock, and those who had taken the Blood Tear Pills were not spared, no matter how insignificant.

Only then did Cheonma take the members of the Demonic Cult and return to Xinjiang. They had clearly kept their initial promise. After dealing only with the remnants of the Wusheng Cult, they swiftly returned to their own place.

The Second Righteous-Demonic War, due to its peculiar conclusion, was retold as a legend for a long time afterward. To subdue thousands of martial artists with the might of a single person was a miraculous feat that would likely never be repeated.

However, despite the regret of those who had not witnessed the events of that day, those who were present remained tight-lipped about it. While some would give a general outline of the events, no one would excitedly recount the heroic tales of that day. Some were tempted with good wine, others were coaxed by friendship, but the survivors remained stubbornly silent about the matter, only smiling wryly.