"I have already learned from the Lord."
Jung Yeonshin answered calmly.
Inherit the martial lineage— It wasn't an invitation to form a master-disciple relationship. The laws of Desolate Fortress did not allow a teacher-student bond between its innate warriors.
It was to prevent personal attachments from interfering with missions. Only the Lord of Desolate Fortress was free from these laws, and Jung Yeonshin had received her teachings.
"There is a loophole in the laws of our fortress."
The Divine Sword Order's leader smirked.
"Since you are not officially anyone's disciple, you are free to learn from whomever you wish. No martial lineage will overlap."
Jung Yeonshin did not respond. He simply gazed at his direct superior with wide eyes.
It was a rare sight, a supreme swordsman in purple robes discussing the flaws of the law.
"Hm? What is it?"
The Divine Sword Order's leader stroked his thin jawline with an expression of mild unease.
Moonlight brushed against the scholarly purple robes, exuding an air of refinement. It was elegant.
Before his knees ached, he had never thought much about it. But now, he saw it differently.
'Living like that, there would be no regrets.'
The conduct of the Divine Sword Order's leader, the one who represented Desolate Fortress, was truly unrestrained. Completely uninhibited—boundless.
Jung Yeonshin had come to understand this while studying Buddhist martial arts in his pursuit of cultivating spiritual power. Did one need such a disposition to reach the pinnacle of martial prowess?
His niece, Jung Hye-ah, and the senior warriors of Desolate Fortress had imparted great lessons to him, humility and freedom. Jung Yeonshin clasped his hands together in a martial salute.
It was a solemn thought. As the uncle of Hye-ah, who had shared drinks with the Lord, he should conduct himself maturely.
"I appreciate your offer, but I must decline. There is little benefit in altering an already complete martial art to suit my body. It was the same with the Moonlight Harmony Technique of the Lord."
"Huh?"
"My martial art must originate from my own hands. I am not suited to inheriting a martial lineage. Even if I were to learn your techniques, they would take on a different form in my hands."
The Divine Sword Order's leader. The past seventeen generations of Order Leaders.
Their relationship was profoundly close. It meant seeing each other until the very end of their breaths. There was no need to antagonize the one wearing purple in this era.
Martial lineage was both a tradition and an identity for warriors. No one wished to see their martial arts completely altered by their successor.
Jung Yeonshin had already established his own martial path. There was no place for the techniques of the Dragon Ring Sect.
"Hmm."
The Divine Sword Order's leader tilted his head slightly.
Despite being the strongest sword of Desolate Fortress, his demeanor was playful. But it didn't come across as lighthearted.
"Your perspective is different. There are plenty of fools eager to take whatever they can get."
"My apologies."
"If I ever get truly desperate, I'll come looking for you again."
The Order's leader lay down with his arms behind his head and clicked his tongue.
"A bit regretful. I might die out in the wilderness without leaving behind a disciple… Well, at least there's a trace of my influence in your movement technique. You'll perfect it soon enough."
"Die in the wilderness? Even a supreme swordsman in purple would meet such an end?"
"Wasn't the Elder of the Council nearly taken out like that? A supreme swordsman meeting two others of the same caliber could just as easily die a meaningless death. The world never allows a single person to dominate. It's too damned vast. Just how many monsters lurk in the cities and mountains, claiming to be the leader of the Thirteen Celestial Demons or the Head of the Nine Great Sects?"
Still lying on the ground, he lazily crossed his legs and wiggled his foot.
"There's no need to even mention sect leaders. The fundamental nature of people is resistance. Everyone seeks their own advantage by any means necessary. Even against supreme masters, they won't easily accept oppression. Formations, combined strikes, assassin techniques, multiple black-rank experts working together, long-range archery techniques that release shockwaves… Radiant Demon Squad's leader, the world is vast, and you have yet to experience even half of it."
"Even a bowstring release creates shockwaves?"
Jung Yeonshin asked quietly.
The reply came immediately, as if it were nothing of note.
"Of course. Archery techniques should never be underestimated. Since ancient times, the bow has been the strongest weapon. The methods of using inner strength to control the bow and string have been refined over an unfathomable span of time. And if such an archer were positioned at the center of a battlefield formation…"
He exaggeratedly shuddered his shoulders.
"I have no idea how I survived long enough to don these purple robes. I encountered it once. If my Dragon Ring Sword hadn't appeared instantly, I'd be dead. It happened when I was still black-rank. I was so enraged at being unable to retaliate that I nearly died of frustration. Thinking back, that must have been the second strike."
The Dragon Ring Sword.
A blade forged from pure inner energy, shimmering in rainbow hues. A masterpiece of the highest order, displayed during his duel to the death against the Namgoong Clan's leader.
Jung Yeonshin slowly parted his lips.
"I heard that a senior of mine lost his younger brother to a One Kill Every Ten Li attack."
"The younger brother of the Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman? Ah, that was quite the infamous tale. A lethal technique meant for supreme masters ended up piercing through a mere fledgling. No one saw it coming. I recall that whole region being thrown into an uproar. You'd best be careful as well. The trajectory of the attack is unpredictable due to its sheer speed and force, even though it carries a certain distinctive energy."
"I will keep that in mind."
The Radiant Demon Squad's leader responded calmly.
* * *
"The Namgoong First Sword is within the Martial Dragon Association. The uncle of the White Qilin."
It was a quiet graveyard. The voice of Chung Myung rang softly over the thickly layered grass.
The Radiant Demon Squad's leader and the greatest swordsman of the Radiant Demon Squad stood side by side. Under the deep night sky, even the full moon had hidden itself.
Only a vast expanse of stars shone faintly, like dewdrops clinging to the night.
"He told me—to forget my brother if I wanted to master my sword. That I was shackled by my own desire for freedom. Then, he drove his sword right into my chest."
"That's nonsense. A swordsman only needs to use their hands well."
Jung Yeonshin deliberately replied in a dull tone.
He knew Chung Myung to be one of the most enigmatic figures in the Radiant Demon Squad, much like Baek Miryeo. A man with a mysterious past, unreadable.
Since their first meeting, Chung Myung had been cryptic yet oddly trusting, always offering help. He did not seem like someone prone to sorrow.
When Chung Myung chuckled, the end of his hood lifted slightly in a faint blue hue.
"You need to use your whole body well. A swordsman is still a warrior, after all."
Jung Yeonshin fell silent. Was he referring to the younger brother who failed to avoid One Kill Every Ten Li?
Suddenly, Chung Myung clasped his hands behind his neck. It was a posture frequently taken by the Lazy Flame Dragon, as he gazed up into the air.
"You know that stars have energy, right? Sometimes, waves of energy descend from them."
"Yes."
"Sometimes, that energy flickers and fades. In our clan, we call those dead stars. We name them after our fallen kin when the moon doesn't shine. Chung Su is over there."
Chung Myung extended a finger toward the distance.
It was difficult to discern exactly where he was pointing.
Jung Yeonshin could see deeply and in fine detail, but he lacked the sight to distinguish a star that no longer shone.
That was a skill reserved for masters of the Myung Clan.
"Well, it was war. A natural end. Warriors can't hope for peaceful deaths. We're lucky if we don't die alone in some wasteland. Chung Su's body wasn't even recoverable."
"I will make sure they suffer the same fate."
"We'll see. It was an instant kill—no pain. The real suffering was mine. Squad leader, be careful. If you die young, I'll have to lead the Radiant Demon Squad, and I don't think I'm ready to deal with these reckless idiots."
The starlight shimmered in Chung Myung's mysterious blue eyes.
Jung Yeonshin gazed at his senior and subordinate before giving a single nod.
"I will not die young."
That was the end of it.
The current Radiant Demon Squad's leader immediately sent word to the high command of the Tianzhu Sect.
He conveyed his purpose, only to be met with fierce opposition.
"This cannot be allowed."
"They are on the verge of pinpointing our sect's location. They have likely been tracing the ley lines relentlessly. Just as it was when you entered, your movements cannot be unrestricted, Radiant Demon Squad's leader."
"There seem to be many elders in opposition. Why not at least hear what they have to say?"
"This is a matter far beyond qualifications. The very survival of our village is at stake. Do you know how many children have died already?"
They claimed that the powder explosion in the lake of the World Tree had been caused by an assassin.
It was unanimously agreed that the culprit must have been Pursuit Fragrance of One Kill Every Ten Li. If they stepped beyond the sect's formation barrier, a lethal strike could come at any moment.
Revealing the village's existence would be as easy as flipping a hand.
"The dead have no voice."
Jung Yeonshin muttered to himself as he stepped forward, his hand wreathed in the divine energy of the Demon-Slaying Azure Force.
A great uproar erupted behind him, but he paid no heed.
He was an adult.
* * *
[So, you've come.]
A voice, tinged with laughter, echoed from all directions, reverberating as though encircling him. It was a voice that pressed against the skin, carrying the chill of the winter wind.
Six Harmonies Voice Transmission. A technique that made it impossible to determine the speaker's location. It was said to be a skill possessed only by supreme masters.
[I am Bonggong of the Dark Night War, known as Go Hui-il.]
"Go Hui-il. The one who killed Chung Su."
Jung Yeonshin muttered as he stepped through the barrier of the sect's magical formation.
Bonggong.
A term that shared roots with Buddhist doctrines such as Selfless Devotion, Sacrificial Service, and Guardian Duty.
In the martial world, it referred to a position within a sect.
One who prioritized the sect above personal interest, holding supreme authority second only to the sect leader.
[I have no personal enmity with you… but you were the last disciple of the woman who betrayed her own clan. That alone makes you worthy of death.]
He dared to speak of the Lord of Desolate Fortress with such disrespect.
There was deep-seated animosity between their bloodlines, but that was not what mattered to Jung Yeonshin.
That bastard had insulted the Lord.
[The current Imperial family and Desolate Fortress have cast the world into chaos. Even the lands within ten li are in turmoil, and the very moon that represents our clan has grown murky.]
"A coward has too much to say."
[Ten li of turmoil, one arrow to cleanse the moon (One Kill Every Ten Li). This is the secret technique of my sect. Know this before you die, the essence of it lies in the annihilation of your kind with a single arrow.]
A cold, detached voice resonated through the Six Harmonies Voice Transmission, echoing from all directions.
Jung Yeonshin closed his eyes.
With the sensitivity honed through his skin, he dissected the reverberations spreading across all directions, tracing the invisible origin of the sound.
He began to reverse-track it completely. The Lightning Genius surged his upper dantian's sensory perception to its limit.
Amidst the walls of energy distortions, he traced the fractured path of a single sound wave, bending and refracting through ridges, forests, rock walls, and branches.
Shaa—!
A soundless rift in the air. A ripple of energy surged through the domain.
A stream of disrupted force coursed forward like a streak of light, carving its way through the terrain.
And finally—
'Found you.'
His senses burst open atop a rocky peak.
There, amidst a formation of ten warriors, stood a man loosing his bowstring.
A robust, heavily built upper body. His frame emanated an overwhelming force as his inner energy erupted.
One Kill Every Ten Li had been fired.
A violent gust of energy stormed from his fingers as the bowstring snapped forward, creating a gale so destructive that the sheer shockwave sent deep cracks ripping through the earth, rock walls, and even the mountains of Heavenly Pillar.
The aftermath alone shattered the surroundings, it was more devastating than cannon fire.
'It's coming.'
Was the arrow shaft itself forged from steel?
Even as his upper dantian burned white-hot, the projectile felt terrifyingly swift.
There was no blocking this.
The moment it struck, death was absolute. Any attempt to counter with a sword would only result in both blade and body being obliterated.
An impossibly long streak of light carved its trajectory into his mind.
His upper dantian had long since ignited into a blinding radiance.
The Lightning Genius, the moniker of the current Radiant Demon Squad's leader, was not given lightly. He wielded the ability to manipulate the speed of his own thoughts.
Time around his body slowed.
One Kill Every Ten Li was said to hold the profound mysteries of Sword Controlling Archery. Guiding the arrow through energy.
At this moment, there was no room for preemptive counters. He had to move.
Jung Yeonshin split a moment into dozens of precise segments. He measured time within an infinitesimal margin.
'Now.'
He slightly lowered his upper body.
His Radiant Wheel had already begun rotating.
His Twelve Strengthened Meridians and entire network of pressure points surged with Transcendent Law Radiant Wheel Energy.
It anchored his cervical vertebrae with unyielding force.
The energy settled like starlight in his Chengfu Acupoint, Yinmen Acupoint, Weizhong Acupoint, and finally, in the Yongcheon Acupoint beneath his soles.
The pathway of his energy flow was already perfected.
He knew exactly what intent he needed to carry.
The ultimate realization, the image that defined his ascension.
'A dead star. Always reaching through the night air.'
Step.
His foot moved. His breathing synchronized with his internal art.
At that moment, an earthquake erupted beneath him.
His entire perspective flipped upside down.
A brilliant shockwave split apart beneath him, dissipating into shimmering threads of light.
His feet landed upon the shadow of a star.
Fwoooosh—!
From within the barrier, gazes from the Tianzhu Sect and the Radiant Demon Squad followed his rising form in stunned silence.
He had soared along the mountain terrain.
A faint glow trailed from his steps, the aura of Transcendent Law Radiant Wheel infused into his movement technique.
The fringes of his luminous energy unraveled like the hem of a thin robe, bleaching the mountain ridges, old trees, and massive boulders with a pale glow.
The night-covered mountains were soaked in the dim radiance of residual energy.
Even as his foot pressed against the next patch of earth, it was the same.
In the blink of an eye, he released another wave of light.
His ascent, veiled in a faintly flickering glow, resembled the constellations encircling the mountain.
BOOOOM!
A deafening explosion roared far below.
The One Kill Every Ten Li arrow had failed to correct its trajectory in time.
Jung Yeonshin paid it no mind.
He sprinted through the layered darkness of night, exhilaration rising in his chest.
His vision blurred, narrowing into the strands of a storm.
The scenery of the forest flickered past, endlessly shifting.
The wind whipping against his face felt soft, almost like a mist.
And then, on his fifth step—
Step.
He was already atop the massive rocky peak.
He had landed within a cluster of frigid energy, among a formation of ten warriors.
At its center stood a man, an arrow nocked to his bowstring.
The Bonggong of Dark Night War.
His skin was as pale as moonlight. A strikingly sharp jawline. His robes, long and draped, were dyed the color of ash.
Their eyes met.
"…!"
The underlings shouted something.
Jung Yeonshin couldn't hear them.
It was the moment to strike.
The enemy could unleash a fatal blow at any time, he couldn't afford to give them an opening.
He stepped forward again.
At some point, his fingers had already wrapped around the hilt of the Beiming.
A dry wind slithered through the blade.
His movement technique itself was a sword technique.
Ssshhh—
A blurred wind swept past his entire body as he surged forward.
Go Hui-il, the Bonggong of Dark Night War, flinched.
A diagonal arc of white radiance flared behind his back.
Swish.
Jung Yeonshin sheathed his sword without looking back.
The flowing black fabric of his robe, once fluttering from his aerial rise, slowly settled.
"…That movement technique… how…?"
A voice from the Six Harmonies Voice Transmission trembled.
The Bonggong of Dark Night War, stumbling, collapsed onto his knees.
A fatal wound. Death was imminent.
Jung Yeonshin barely spared him a glance, his hand resting over the hilt of his sheathed blade.
"You spoke of One Kill Every Ten Li, that the chaos of ten li could be cleansed by a single arrow. But what good is an arrow in the face of such turmoil?"
"Radiant Demon Squad's leader…! Do not mock the secret technique of my sect. This was merely…"
"You asked about my movement technique. I gave you an answer."
At the precipice of his demise, the Bonggong of Dark Night War fell silent.
The current Radiant Demon Squad's leader whispered.
His voice was soft, barely above a breath, yet Go Hui-il's keen ears trembled.
And then—
"Heh… I see now… You truly are one of Desolate Fortress' Seventeen Blades…"
The Bonggong of Dark Night War let out a faint laugh.
His eyes lost focus. Slowly, death claimed him.
Yet in his final moments, his mind repeated the words of the adversary who had cut him down.
Ten li of strife.
The light of a dead star lingers.
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