"...."
A moment of silence passed.
The expressions of the noble martial families who had come to seek out the wandering swordsman, Geom Un-bi, shifted in various ways.
Some raised their eyebrows in disbelief, while others nodded as if acknowledging such arrogance could only be supported by immense martial prowess.
There were even those who, instead of the leader of the Gui Clan, openly displayed their anger. They perceived a vast disparity in status between a wandering swordsman and the noble martial families.
All of them had lived as noble warriors of Murim, akin to mountain gods in the common people's eyes.
Regardless of their reactions, they were beings naturally accepted in the Jianghu of Shaanxi.
"Surely, that wasn't directed at the leader of the Gui Clan? Calling it 'dust'?"
"That's an excessive interpretation. The real problem is the disrespectful attitude he displayed in responding to the leader's courteous words as if talking to himself. It's too insolent. No matter how strong a wandering swordsman may be, what can he possibly accomplish alone?"
"Let them say what they will. I came here for a pleasant conversation."
Though there were gaps in martial prowess between different regional Jianghu factions, the noble families remained ever perceptive.
They had not rushed here recklessly, simply because they had witnessed an outpour of formidable energy.
Many had arrived after assessing the location and the temperament of the person they were dealing with, contemplating how best to conduct themselves.
Recruitment, persuasion, dueling, camaraderie…
The expressions of the Gongya siblings changed from their usual composure.
Grand Lady Gongya Jung anxiously adjusted her sleeves, while her younger brother, Gongya Su, lowered his sharp gaze in admiration.
"Master Geom has made enemies. How should we handle this…?"
"But was that really Master Geom's energy wave just now? How is that even possible? It's beyond belief! I knew he was strong, but to that extent…"
"Master Geom?"
"He's leagues above me in skill, plus he has that sharp way of speaking and a refined yet rugged appearance. He must have grown up privileged as a child, but he has a strangely rough nature… Do all wandering swordsmen turn out like that? I never imagined anyone would act like that in front of the Gui Clan's leader!"
"Be quiet. Those words won't do Master Geom any favors."
Gongya Jung calmly scolded her younger brother.
Concern lingered in her eyes.
Since Geom Un-bi had bestowed martial teachings upon her, she wished to repay that kindness by achieving a worthy level of skill.
Her own progress was one thing, but she hadn't anticipated that trouble would arise for him instead.
'It makes sense. How could he have a favorable impression after hearing Gui Il-tae's insults…?'
Many had witnessed what had happened at the banquet.
The son of the Gui Clan's leader had openly spoken about Geom Un-bi's origins, right to his face.
He had called him lowborn and even suggested that, as a mere guest, he should serve the Grand Lady properly.
Those present at that banquet, now gathered here, could see why the Gui Clan's leader's lofty demeanor felt oppressive.
At that moment—
"Only the leaders shall remain."
Jung Yeonshin suddenly spoke.
It was a grand mission requiring the combined efforts of three figures clad in black.
A more thorough and decisive preparation was necessary.
The land beneath their feet no longer felt like the Gongya Clan's manor, but rather like a debt owed to Zhuge Hyeon, the Fan Dragon.
To eliminate a supreme master of sorcery and martial arts, ordinary preparations would not suffice.
The heads of the noble martial families of Shaanxi exchanged glances.
They had just witnessed the terrifying outburst of energy from Geom Un-bi.
None of them wished to see unnecessary casualties among their own ranks.
The Gongya siblings, along with the younger generation and several servants, withdrew without hesitation.
Then, Jung Yeonshin spoke again.
"Follow me."
His words were closer to a command. Yet, they fit him as naturally as a well-tailored garment.
At the same time, the massive frame of the Gui Clan's leader trembled violently.
Overcome with fury, he roared in rage.
"How impudent! Your arrogance has gone beyond all bounds! Do you even know to whom you are speaking with such reckless words?! Just because a mere wandering swordsman possesses great skill does not mean he can act so lawlessly!"
His voice was thunderous, as if it were ripping through the night air itself.
The profound energy suppressed deep beneath his ironclad core was palpable.
He was truly the head of a prestigious clan, capable of shaking an entire fortress with his presence alone.
Jung Yeonshin did not respond.
Hwaak!
Without a word, he extended his hand, sending fierce winds sweeping past the threshold.
In the next instant, a pitch-black robe was drawn into the air.
As the cloth rustled with a soft sound, faint traces of the character 'Desolate' could be seen on its sleeve.
"Do I still look like a mere wandering swordsman to you?"
Jung Yeonshin asked quietly, gripping the black robe.
At that very moment, two more cloaks, just as dark as midnight, billowed ominously behind the noble martial families of Shaanxi.
* * *
The senior masters clad in black had arrived after sensing the outburst of energy from their youngest member.
Vice-leader of the Divine Sword Order, leader of the Radiant Demon Squad, leader of the Blood Preservation Squad.
The three masters of Wonpyeong's First Sword Hall had gathered in foreign lands.
For the noble martial families of Huguang Province, who were far from their home turf, this was an event that sent shivers down their spines.
Indeed, they remained silent, cautiously observing the three figures.
"Leave them be."
As soon as Jung Yeonshin, Jin Myungjo, and a few others sat around a table in a separate hall, she spoke.
A translucent barrier, woven with dense and colorless energy, enveloped them like a curtain.
Ak Surim continued.
"It's over."
"Pardon?"
"The leader of the Zhuge Clan knows. No, it's more accurate to say he was prepared from the beginning. Senior Jin found a formation medium near the dueling stage."
"I see."
"You're not surprised? Lightning Genius, are you angry? Your aura seems different from usual."
"This is a personal matter. Let us focus on the mission first."
"…Alright."
Ak Surim shrugged.
The moment she heard those words, Jin Myungjo, who was sitting closer to her, trembled slightly.
That small gesture provided Jung Yeonshin with a bit of reassurance.
Even the senior, the Sacred Blood Demon treated his juniors' concerns as his own.
"Fist Grand Duke and the Zhuge Clan's leader's synchronization makes them nearly unbeatable. There are warriors who experience a sharp increase in strength when they fight together, because their martial arts complement each other perfectly. Those two are like that, horrifyingly so."
"Then we separate them."
Jung Yeonshin calmly responded to Ak Surim's words.
That was the only option.
It was said that the formations of a grandmaster of sorcery and martial arts were comparable to divine techniques.
The Zhuge Clan's leader's objective was to distinguish the true elite at the dueling tournament.
He would have prepared measures to eliminate any variables.
There was no need to fight in his domain.
"Our Lightning Genius is confident? That's right! If we want to win, we have to deal with Fist Grand Duke first."
"Then…"
"Blood Preservation Squad's leader and I will handle the Zhuge bastard. Blood Preservation Squad's leader's energy perception is vast—we'll buy as much time as we can. Who knows? Maybe before you even arrive…"
She trailed off, winking playfully.
"My spear might already be buried in his skull."
"Understood."
"But really, what happened? Spill everything to your big sis."
"Yes, grandmother."
As the night deepened, murmured conversations echoed through the room.
A discussion that would soon shake the foundations of Shaanxi's Murim.
* * *
The sun rose to its peak.
The crisp winter air shimmered under the clear sunlight.
"From this moment, this place is the cradle of martial prowess!"
A booming voice infused with energy resounded widely.
Though the young warriors' dueling tournament was being exaggerated, the tightly packed crowd surrounding the stage made the statement feel convincing.
At the center of the stage—
"The esteemed figures of Shaanxi have spoken of a fair duel! Countless young masters have declared their challenges, so witness this grand spectacle with your own eyes and spread word of it throughout the world!"
A middle-aged man in a pristine scholar's robe presided over the event.
A tremendous roar erupted, filling the surroundings.
"Waaaaah!"
The vast hills of Hyungpyung Mountain in Shaanxi.
A dueling stage had been hastily prepared, and despite the sudden change in location and schedule, hundreds had gathered.
Most of them bore appearances indicating they could live comfortably even in times of famine. Silk garments, palanquins, carriages, and fine horses were in abundance.
For the wealthy, the movements of the noble martial clans were a top priority.
The enmities and power struggles among the strong directly influenced commercial interests, land ownership, and shop holdings.
"The one who will open this grand tournament is…"
The scholar-robed man deliberately drew out his words. At the same time, the awnings surrounding the dueling stage trembled violently.
The noble families' young warriors, eager to prove their might and earn renown, unleashed their energy.
The fierce gusts from the mountainous terrain combined with their energy, creating a powerful disturbance.
Just as the crowd let out gasps of astonishment—
Hwaaak! Boom!
The center of the dueling stage caved in. Cracks spread in all directions, white light flickering above the fractured golden threads.
It was a wave of energy that completely shattered the scattered energy of the young contenders.
As soon as the figure that had suddenly descended straightened their posture, exclamations of shock erupted from every corner.
"Eun Hero has arrived…!"
"Fist Grand Duke has graced us with her presence!"
"Fist Grand Duke Eun Hero…? Could it be…?"
"First Fist of the Eun Clan! It's the First Fist of the Eun Clan!"
The audience, who had been listening attentively, erupted into wild cheers.
Their enthusiasm far surpassed the reaction to the opening declaration of the dueling tournament.
Those closest to the stage had to cover their ears from the sheer volume of the shouting.
Then, Eun Hwaryun spoke.
"I have come to reclaim my honor."
Her voice cut through the uproar with ease. The energy imbued in it was on an entirely different level.
As the surroundings fell into silence, she spoke again.
"There are no traps. The Sleeping Dragon is not coming. The Murim Alliance had to direct its efforts elsewhere to prevent them from encroaching on Shaanxi. I am here alone. I swear upon the martial arts I have cultivated my entire life."
"Uh… Eun Hero…?"
Just as the scholar in charge of the tournament approached her cautiously—
The leader of the Gongya Clan, who had been seated under an awning, abruptly leaped forward using Protective Energy Technique, grabbing the scholar's collar and pulling him back.
Hwoosh.
The reverse wind of the Protective Energy Technique stirred a brief gust.
Beneath her nape, Eun Hwaryun's short black hair swayed.
"Gongya Clan's leader."
"Eun Hero."
"I owe a debt to Shaanxi. I received great help while in foreign lands."
"I, too, am grateful for the broadening of my horizons."
"If possible, do not get involved with the Gui Clan. It would also be wise to avoid forming deep ties with the Sleeping Dragon. Seeking external support often leads a martial lineage to lose its own essence… I realized that too late."
"...."
"A sect like the Gongya Clan, caught between paths, must bow when necessary and walk alone when needed. Struggle too hard to emulate those who dominate the Jianghu, and you will tear yourself apart. Like that one over there."
Eun Hwaryun slightly turned her body and gestured with her chin.
Sabak.
A black-clad figure stepped lightly onto the dueling stage, walking forward with graceful elegance.
He stood at the boundary between youth and manhood, his height now quite distinguished, exuding an indescribable presence.
He was the one she had to face.
"The leader of Mystic Heaven Sect. A man who, despite being a wandering swordsman of tender years, has reached the realm of a grandmaster."
"Has Eun Hero suffered defeat at his hands before?"
"I once saw them cross swords. At a glance, it seemed even-matched, but…"
The murmurs surrounding them grew heavier.
Yet, the supreme martial artists cared for nothing but the confrontation before them.
The Gongya Clan's leader, after carefully observing Geom Un-bi—Jung Yeonshin—before him, led the scholar-robed man away.
"Zhuge Clan's leader isn't coming?"
Jung Yeonshin asked.
Eun Hwaryun nodded.
"That's right. Because I didn't mention you. The current Sleeping Dragon has laid traps along every path he treads. He has ensured that whoever comes from the Desolate Fortress will be utterly annihilated. He does not confine himself to a schedule. That is what it means to be a truly transcendent master. You must keep this in mind."
"…The Gui Clan's retainers fled. Wouldn't that have given him an idea?"
"They were eliminated without a trace. It seems to be the work of the Grand Moon Slaughter Sect… but now is not the time to discuss that. I myself know little about it."
That sect was often mentioned when discussing potential winners of the tournament.
After a brief silence, Jung Yeonshin spoke again.
"What is your objective?"
"I've grown weary of it all. The Sleeping Dragon has lost his integrity. The man I admired was a scholar who mourned the loss of his wife, not an absolute master who abandoned his life for ideology."
Eun Hwaryun's calm voice was carried away by the winter wind, sweeping over the dueling stage.
Regret tinged her words.
Alongside it, a chilling aura scraped against the skin like a bitter wind.
'She's sincere.'
He didn't need to discern it through his upper dantian. He could feel it.
Now, it wasn't her that concerned him, but the audience.
There were many in this gathering who dismissed wandering swordsmen.
The noble martial families of Shaanxi had dozens of disciples, treating them like countless flying swords to be wielded at their command.
Too many unfamiliar faces. The parasites of the Jianghu.
They hadn't visited the Gongya Clan manor but had come directly here instead.
'Pathetic dust.'
From his elevated vantage point on the Fan Dragon's fan, he sensed their presence.
Did they care more for famine-driven profits than for the honor of martial artists?
The energy fluctuating beneath the awnings showed they were eager to assist Eun Hwaryun.
These specks of dust, emboldened by their intake of rare elixirs, would be a nuisance if they got too close.
It was rare to find anyone here who wasn't somehow connected to the Zhuge Clan.
He had hesitated earlier, wary of how restricted his movements might be.
But now, he needed to claim his identity to ensure no one dared to interfere.
Ssshhk.
Jung Yeonshin placed his left hand on his right forearm, slipping it beneath the sleeveless outer robe.
A soft texture met his fingers. A second layer of fabric wrapped around his arm.
Ssshhak!
With a sharp pull, he tore it off completely.
The fabric crumpled rapidly under the force of his grip, compressing into nothingness.
At the same time, the fluctuating energy throughout the area began to settle, one by one.
A mere fraction of those present understood. The majority, however, sprang to their feet.
"What? What's happening?"
"That's the character for 'Desolate'!"
"That—! That…!"
"Radiant Demon Squad's leader, Jung Yeonshin!"
Fragments of fine silk, shimmering with their distinct smooth texture, fluttered into the air.
As the tiny white glimmers scattered, Jung Yeonshin stood in their midst, his lips parting.
"I accept Fist Grand Duke's challenge."
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