* * *
A cool twilight shadow draped over the hills.
It was near Taiyuan in Shaanxi Province. Jung Yeonshin, Monk Wonjeok, Gun Yurin, and Tian Po were surrounding one of the supreme martial artist of the Profound Martial Alliance when an issue arose.
It was regarding the fate of Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign.
Monk Wonjeok was the first to ask the Radiant Demon Squad's leader for an opinion. "May this humble monk spare this man's life?"
Jung Yeonshin hesitated.
First, this opponent exuded killing intent, a man who openly committed atrocities.
He had always only executed such people.
The sole exception had been Namgoong Se-jin, the Azure Qilin, and perhaps that was why his dreams were restless from time to time.
If he so wished, he could manifest the King-Style Sword Arts right now.
"This does not mean I intend to treat him. I simply will not kill him. This wretched monk is a hypocrite at heart. It is enough to let him cling to life upon this earth and move him elsewhere."
Monk Wonjeok spoke.
Shaolin had a strict precept against killing. Though a martial sect, it did not permit murder.
Because it was a Buddhist monastery.
The moment a monk took a life, he became a fallen monk.
This was the reason why Shaolin's martial techniques—hand-to-hand combat, staff techniques, and other self-defense arts—had developed so extensively.
Even when the Yuan dynasty had swept across the land, this absolute principle remained unbroken.
The origin of martial studies on the continent was Mount Song. It was martial society itself. Shaolin's stance was a philosophy that had been passed down for generations.
Even the infamous "Namgoong First Sword" had never forced Shaolin monks to kill.
Not when he had been part of the Namgoong Clan, nor after he had erased his name from the family records and transferred his allegiance to the Thirteen Celestial Demons' Martial Dragon Association.
Jung Yeonshin spoke slowly. Below him, Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign, his body covered in blue-black bruises, glared up at him with fierce eyes.
"Living as a commoner will be a painful existence."
The seals engraved on Monk Wonjeok's forehead lifted slightly.
"Did you say, a commoner?"
"We must cripple his dantian and sever his tendons and meridians. There must be no repercussions."
Hah…
A sigh escaped from the renowned monk's lips.
Jung Yeonshin, who had spoken this judgment absentmindedly as the Radiant Demon Squad's leader, inwardly flinched. Shaolin's renown was at its peak in these times.
No one in the world wanted to offend a great monk of Shaolin.
Especially if they were from Henan Province, where children grew up idolizing the Hundred Steps Divine Fist technique in their games.
'Am I being too ruthless and harsh?'
It was the same when dealing with his niece, Hye-ah. He was about to reflect upon himself when—
"How profoundly benevolent."
"…What?"
"The world may indeed call you the incarnation of Nezha. You hold the lives of the people in great esteem."
Monk Wonjeok laughed heartily.
The temperament of a Tang monk emanated from his gaze. It felt as though he was stroking Jung Yeonshin's head with his eyes.
"Considering what this man has done in the martial world to earn the name of Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign… this much is necessary. It had not occurred to this humble one before. Even common measures, when used appropriately, can become brilliant stratagems."
"I see."
Jung Yeonshin straightened his shoulders.
Gun Yurin, who had been staring at the two men blankly, hastily opened her mouth in alarm.
"Wait, wait. You're letting this bastard live?"
"He is an utterly heinous villain! His malice reaches the heavens! Who knows what methods he might use to regain his strength…!"
Tian Po, standing behind her, gritted his teeth.
They were the ones who had dealt with Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign the longest.
They had witnessed his character, his nature, and the feats he had achieved to rise among the Three Supreme Lords of the Profound Martial Alliance. Their unease was as heavy as a thousand pounds.
A tremor flickered at the corners of Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign's lips, forming a twisted grin.
"Desolate Fortress, Shaolin. Truly… merciful. One day, I shall master the Supreme Heaven-Slashing Sword and… repay this debt. To you all, and to the noble lady as well."
His voice was frigid and sharp. It was the voice of a blade.
He was a man who had earned fame across the world for his swordsmanship. A grandmaster who had perfected dual-blade techniques by synthesizing the top martial arts of the Profound Martial Alliance. His words about the sword were not mere bluster.
Gun Yurin bit her lower lip, unable to do anything amid the overwhelming presence of the gathered masters.
At that moment—
A faint, ochre-colored line flashed five times through the air, and only then did a dull thudding sound follow. The sound of flesh being torn apart.
Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign's groan came a breath too late.
"Graaagh—!"
His limbs convulsed violently.
Dark bruises bloomed across his arms and legs. A soft breeze stirred from his sunken lower abdomen.
It was the residual energy of his dantian shattering. The internal energy he had cultivated was so immense that even the surrounding grass and trees continued to tremble.
A wooden staff, wielded like an iron rod. Monk Wonjeok struck the ground vertically with his staff.
Boom!
It was the punishment that Shaolin delivered to excommunicated disciples.
A staff strike imbued with the power of the Heavy Weighted Punishment technique.
With a single devastating blow, his tendons and meridians were utterly crushed, and his dantian was shattered into dust. It had all happened in an instant.
Even after delivering such a harsh strike, Monk Wonjeok did not spare a glance at Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign.
The gaze of the renowned monk was fixed solely on the leader of the Radiant Demon Squad. Unlike when he had swung his staff at Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign, his expression was now filled with deep benevolence.
"A moment ago, you followed me with divine footwork. The traces of sacred energy from the Protective Energy Technique were evident, and it seems that you are naturally born with an immortal's bones and a Buddha's talent. Your every action is imbued with the essence of the Dharma-protecting warrior god, Nezha."
The tone of one of Shaolin's Four Great Diamond Arhats had shed all formality. It had softened immensely.
A serene and clear light gleamed in his eyes.
"Hah."
Gun Yurin, who had been holding her breath among the resolute masters, took a step back with a look of sheer exhaustion. The great monk before her was said to be a monstrous being who had spent a hundred years in seclusion facing a wall.
He could not possibly be sane. The light gleaming in that handsome monk's eyes looked bizarre, as if he were under some sort of delusion.
"When Emperor Wu of the Liang dynasty wished to challenge Bodhidharma, the master sought to avoid conflict and crossed a river using a single reed leaf. That tale became known as 'Yiwi Dogang' (One Reed Crossing the River) and became a guiding principle in the Protective Energy Technique. The bodily cultivation methods he devised for longevity were passed down as the Yijin Sutra and the Xisui Sutra."
Monk Wonjeok smiled.
"There are rumors that when the Radiant Demon Squad's leader engages in battle, lotus flowers bloom around him, threatening all those nearby. The Protective Energy Technique you demonstrated for me may one day be known as the footsteps of Nezha, treading upon the Lotus Platform of the Western Pure Land."
It was a reference to the Buddhist afterlife.
The Lotus Platform was the seat upon which a cultivator sat after death. Its full name was the Nine-Ranked Lotus Platform.
It was said to be made of nine lotus flowers.
Jung Yeonshin slightly parted his lips but then stopped. He only pondered.
Was this really acceptable?
No matter what he said or did, he earned favor.
He wondered if this was what would happen if his grandfather's and the Seventh Apostle's personalities were combined, but then again, it felt improper to think such thoughts about a great monk of Shaolin.
'You foolish Jung Yeonshin, how utterly irreverent…'
It was clear why one of Shaolin's Four Great Diamond Arhats had accepted his Shaanxi moniker as it was.
It was as if an ancient Taoist of Mount Hua had recognized a title containing 'plum blossoms'.
"I am unworthy of such words. Though lately, I have come to deeply respect the great Bodhidharma."
Jung Yeonshin's voice carried sincerity. His sense of connection to Shaolin's founding patriarch was that profound.
At this moment, the Radiant Demon Squad's leader felt as if he were a wanderer, lost in the remote jungles beyond civilization, who had finally encountered another human being.
"Splendid, truly splendid!"
Monk Wonjeok exclaimed in an old-fashioned manner.
A supreme martial master who had opened his upper dantian was exceedingly sensitive to the intentions of others.
He was an enlightened monk, one who could discern truth from falsehood and gauge the depths of emotions to preempt enemy attacks. His mouth stretched into a wide, delighted smile.
"I must offer alms to you."
"…By alms, you mean?"
"In truth, I came down the mountain accompanied by a disciple, but the boy was so slow that he has fallen far behind. This wretched monk received a Bright Pure Pill from the Medicine King Hall of the monastery, and that child is carrying it. I dislike having burdens on my person."
Indeed, the only thing he carried was a wooden staff. He had neither a bowl for alms nor a sleeping mat for comfort.
"Master…?"
Jung Yeonshin's eyes widened.
Would he be able to heal his internal wounds before even returning to Desolate Fortress?
The Bright Pure Pill of Shaolin.
A supreme medicine for internal injuries, infused with the secret knowledge of the renowned lineage of Shaolin's Medicine King Hall.
He had taken one before. It was just before the Radiant Demon Squad, the Annihilation Squad, and the Heavenly Squad had gathered to attack the Hwangbo Clan.
The moment he ingested it, his entire network of energy channels had been restored in an instant. He vividly remembered how precious its medicinal energy had felt as it coursed through his body.
"However, your body is unwell at the moment… I hesitate to leave you alone. Finding my disciple will take some time."
"A long wait is nothing compared to the kindness you have shown me."
Jung Yeonshin replied calmly.
He suddenly thought of Heon Wonchang, Lazy Flame Dragon, and Shin So-bin. Refusing now made no sense.
His comrades would surely reprimand him, saying the leader's body should come first.
The absence of Monk Wonjeok was just as significant.
Would it make sense for the black-clad warriors of Desolate Fortress to rely on one of Shaolin's Four Great Diamond Arhats? Anyone would consider it absurd.
He no longer felt a great threat from the Slaughter Sect or the Murong Clan.
Ever since he had defeated Zhuge Clan's leader, he had been experiencing a strange sensation. A conviction that no matter what, he would manage.
Even now, the image of a sword wavered in his mind.
The Beiming Sword strapped to his waist whispered to him—to go and reunite with his comrades.
"You are already a fully realized martial artist."
The smooth, bald face of Monk Wonjeok did not lose its smile.
"My worries were unfounded. We shall meet again in Taiyuan."
Crunch.
The sound of snow being stepped upon was crisp. With those words, the monk turned and walked away. His orange robes fluttered above the snowy ground.
Jung Yeonshin, Gun Yurin, and Tian Po remained.
"Finally, everything is settled."
Gun Yurin glanced at Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign, who was twitching at her feet, and brushed back a lock of hair behind her ear.
"My mind is at ease. I have blocked the remnants of the past from interfering with my grand ambition. Now, all that remains is to surge forward."
"Have you truly taken control of the Profound Martial Alliance's martial forces?"
Jung Yeonshin asked suddenly.
Gun Yurin smirked and tilted her sharp shoulders in a shrug.
"Unless my damn father himself shows up, there won't be any issues. There are only four people ranked above me in command—the Profound Martial Alliance's leader and the three supreme sovereigns."
"What about your brother?"
"He's my equal."
She spoke with a serious expression.
"There's really nothing to worry about. The ones at the top are too busy scheming to rule the world. Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign is the limit."
Flap!
Gun Yurin dramatically shook her sleeve.
She seemed to have lost all interest in the fallen Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign. At least, that's how it appeared on the surface.
"Ke… keh heh heh…"
The swordsman who had lost everything could only let out a hoarse, hollow laughter. He looked completely deranged.
His gaze flickered toward Jung Yeonshin from time to time, filled with despair and despondency.
Earlier, he had spoken of mastering the Supreme Heaven-Slashing Sword, but now, having lost his dantian and severed meridians, his life's cultivation—he could not maintain his composure.
Such was the martial world.
"Let's go."
Jung Yeonshin was the first to turn and walk away. Soon after, Gun Yurin and Tian Po followed.
The late winter sunlight was deep.
Everything around them was pure white. Though they had grown somewhat closer, a peculiar sense of distance remained between them, and they walked in silence for a long while.
Tian Po, the one-armed warrior, watched Jung Yeonshin carefully, making their first meeting seem almost meaningless.
"Wait, I need to step aside for a moment."
"Where the hell do you see a latrine around here?"
"Miss, just take the hint. Some things are best left unquestioned."
"Fine, go. But if you go stealing again, I'll break your other wrist. We still have some dignity left in our group, you know…"
"Yes, yes."
Tian Po slipped away and only returned after quite some time, claiming that his stomach had turned to stone.
When he stretched his lips wide, his face took on the handsome elegance of a scholarly martial artist, but in front of Gun Yurin and Jung Yeonshin, he maintained a deferential posture.
Jung Yeonshin caught a faint metallic scent from Tian Po's fan.
It was the smell of blood, something that hadn't been there before.
The excuse about needing to relieve himself had been a lie.
He had gone back to kill the Twin-Winged Blood Sovereign.
"..."
Jung Yeonshin did not question him.
Only the sound of snow crunching beneath their feet echoed in the stillness.
Their footprints lined up in three parallel tracks, trailing into the cold silence behind them.
This was the martial world.
* * *
The shadow cast beneath the cliff was immense, vast enough to swallow several figures without a trace.
"We should have killed them earlier. How many times have we caught them, only to let them slip away?"
"They all belong to renowned martial clans. Their bodies still hold the residual energy of rare elixirs that have yet to fully assimilate. Naturally, we have to handle them like sacred treasures."
"The bastard child of the Slaughter Sect and the Solar Divine Meridian, fine. But what about the daughter of the Desolate Shin Clan? She's got an unbearable temperament. If it were me, I'd have severed that delicate neck in one stroke…"
"Don't be reckless. There are no exceptions."
"Are these orders truly from above?"
"That girl has plenty to offer as well. Every successor under Desolate Fortress is groomed to become a future member of the black rank. They don't worry about their internal energy reserves. The only concern is how many years it takes to fully absorb the medicinal energy."
"Damn fate. Just my luck."
"The origin of the Soul Absorption Technique lies in the Heavenly Demon Martial Meridian. We should be grateful that such a secret art has entered our lineage. Who knows? You might even benefit from it someday."
"Hmph…"
"The real problem is Hwangbo. We worked hard to separate their group, but the damage is immense."
"I heard the Southern Formation of the Heaven-Spanning Net was destroyed?"
"It melted."
"What about the Sect Leader? The second-highest master of the Murong Clan couldn't possibly have failed to capture him…"
"He seized a messenger from the Shaanxi branch of Hao Clan Intelligence. There was some cryptic information written on him. Apparently, it was a coded message being relayed to all the Hao Clan branches across the country."
"This is no trivial matter. Can we get access to it?"
"Of course. The message warned to beware of pink robes…"
Crunch.
The vast shadow beneath the cliff swallowed up a sickening sound of something being crushed.
With a single noise, all the presences in the area fell silent, losing their vitality in an instant.
Not even the sound of bodies collapsing was heard, as if every last one of them had been pulverized entirely.
Then, a faintly white-tinted hem of deep pink fabric drifted through the shadow's edge, brushing past with serene elegance.
Not a single sound followed.
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