Jung Yeonshin narrowed his eyes.
'Is this really the Nine Great Sects?'
The Tang siblings were buried at the mountain peak. This was no place to be discussing a martial contest. Whatever the reason may be.
He suddenly sensed Tang Yun-hwang's breath elongating silently beside him.
The internal breath of Reversed Origin Three Yang Art, which imbues a person's body with three types of toxins. It was an unusual show of courtesy toward Jung Yeonshin, but the Tang Clan was originally known for its exclusivity and cold disposition.
"The leader of the Emei Sect, I see. Leader Jung, you have now fully risen to stand shoulder to shoulder with the leaders of major sects."
Tang Yun-hwang spoke with a faint smile on his gaunt face. Jung Yeonshin gave a small shake of his head.
And then, he listened.
His five senses were extremely sharp.
A gift of natural talent, the Jung Clan Movement Arts, and Rebirth of Bones and Flesh.
He could exert the capabilities of the Thousand Li Hearing Technique, an ability learned by assassins of his sect.
Because even a faint trace of Transcending Law Radiant Wheel constantly settled near his Ear Gate Acupoint.
He heard murmuring from below. It was the voices of the Nine Great Sects' young disciples.
"I was wondering what they were talking about, but their conduct is excessive."
"Pardon?"
"It's not like secular etiquette doesn't exist in the martial world… Maybe it's because they've only trained in the mountains?"
"What do you mean?"
"They're acting with blatant arrogance. A humble request would have been much more effective."
"They were conveying their earnestness. And yet, Little Sword Queen, you have done nothing yourself…"
"Enough. Stop speaking now."
With that, the distance between the two sides closed, and soon, Jung Yeonshin found himself locking eyes with three people looking up at him from below.
Two of them were familiar. A young Taoist and a refined nun. Red Cloud Dragon of the Qingcheng Sect and the Golden Staff Divine Lady of the Emei Sect.
In the center stood a woman wearing a jet-black sword at her waist. A swordswoman who matched the gracefully draped crimson silk robe she wore.
Her long, jet-black hair cascaded past her waist, but the way it was neatly tied exuded a refined sharpness, as if it had been honed like a blade. She was undoubtedly the head disciple of the Dianqing Sect.
"I pay my respects to Lord Tang and the Radiant Demon Squad's leader. I am Chui So-ok of the Dianqing Sect."
Her posture was disciplined as she raised both hands together in a respectful greeting.
Her downturned eyes gave her a gentle appearance, but few martial artists in the world would dare underestimate her, even knowing her identity.
In Sichuan, where the influence of the imperial family was less oppressive than in other regions, she was openly regarded as a contender for the title of a ruler of the blade.
"This is our first meeting since the Murim Alliance Gathering in Hanzhong, correct?"
Chui So-ok asked as she withdrew her greeting. Jung Yeonshin gave a slight nod.
He felt a strange sense of unease. He was already acquainted with Little Sword Queen Chui So-ok, yet compared to their first meeting, her formality felt excessive.
She treated him no differently than she did the leader of the Tang Clan.
'Still young. Perhaps she has matured?'
Jung Yeonshin thought little of it.
Then, suddenly, Chui So-ok lowered her head.
"I had no intention of bringing up a martial contest in the midst of mourning. First, I offer my apologies to the Tang Clan. And of course, to you, Radiant Demon Squad's leader, who must have held the deceased in deep regard…"
"There must have been an urgent matter."
Tang Yun-hwang muttered briefly.
To Jung Yeonshin, there was no particular force behind his voice, yet for a fleeting moment, the faces of the three disciples of the Nine Great Sects twitched involuntarily.
A sight that reflected the formidable martial prowess and renown of the clan leader.
Only then did Red Cloud Dragon realize his blunder. A cold sweat formed on the back of his neck, but the attention of the gathering had long since shifted away from him.
"Do you have business with squad leader Jung?"
"I would like for Lord Tang to hear it as well. Of course, the Emei Sect's leader's message is meant for the Radiant Demon Squad's leader."
Jung Yeonshin inwardly tilted his head.
"You're being overly concerned. I believe there is already a nun from the Emei Sect present."
He spoke, briefly glancing at the Golden Staff Divine Lady, who stood silently behind Little Sword Queen.
Chui So-ok's eyes narrowed slightly. For a brief moment, a thin smile formed.
"The Murim Alliance Gathering in Hanzhong crumbled when the previous Zhuge Clan's leader perished. It has long since fallen apart. I have been working with those I am connected to in order to create a new path. Gaining the trust of the Qingcheng and Emei Sects has been difficult. The Beggars' Sect's Hu-gae was a major obstacle, but…"
"I'm not interested."
Jung Yeonshin curtly replied.
Swish.
As if she had expected that response, Little Sword Queen merely nodded without hesitation and retrieved a letter from her sleeve.
A document bound with old-fashioned silk thread.
"I would also prefer to take more time to properly pay respects to the deceased, but Sichuan is in chaos. Every moment you two let slip is worth a fortune to certain people."
Chui So-ok continued, glancing between Jung Yeonshin and Lord Tang.
"The Tang Clan was not the only one attacked. We've confirmed that not only the three major factions of the Thirteen Celestial Demons, but two or three more have infiltrated Sichuan. If you include the independent lineages and small factions under their command, that number easily exceeds a hundred. And they are all embroiled in conflict."
"Conflict?"
Jung Yeonshin asked.
"The famine has spread even to this basin, and it is only natural for the demonic faction to take advantage. Raiding is just the start, they are attacking rival sects in the region, aligning with the Thirteen Celestial Demons, and striking at righteous factions. They treat the common people like mere livestock, always ready for the taking."
The air of a turbulent era.
Even upon escaping the Flood Dragon Formation, Jung Yeonshin had sensed it. Places untouched by battle were scarce.
Then, Chui So-ok tapped her palm with the rolled-up letter. A gesture that conveyed her emotions.
"Lately, such news has oddly been scarce, but who knows? It could be the calm before the storm."
Details followed about how factions, including the Tyrant Sword Tribe, the Yeoryeong Sect, and the Thirteen Celestial Demons, were waging war in Sichuan.
And how, as the turmoil persisted, even warriors from beyond Sichuan were being drawn into the fray.
"So, I've come up with a small but significant plan."
Chui So-ok said.
"The two of you—Radiant Demon Squad's leader, hailed as the Sword of the People and the peer of Invincible Laughing Heaven, and the Emei Sect's leader, revered as the reincarnation of Maitreya. You, the most moderate of the top martial artists in Sichuan, will demonstrate your strength before the masses."
That was the purpose of the martial contest.
Jung Yeonshin shook his head.
"Weak."
"Pardon?"
"Do you know how to write?"
If it were even half as persuasive as Desolate Sacred Warrior. He inwardly muttered.
* * *
Mount Emei, Sichuan.
Sunlight quietly poured down over the mountain ridges dyed in blue hues.
Acrid smoke billowed from the peak.
The pure air characteristic of a sacred mountain was disappearing.
Only the sound of blackened embers crackling and scattering remained.
The temple nestled deep in the summit had been reduced to ruins. Both the inner and outer courtyards alike.
At the entrance of the temple—
Dozens of martial artists wielding swords, staves, spears, and bizarre weapons exuded a palpable presence.
Some stood atop the temple's roof, while others sat carelessly on the ground, circulating their internal energy.
A man missing an arm, a woman with crushed ribs, an old man coughing blood—none of them were unscathed, yet an unmistakable aura of raw brutality radiated from their entire beings.
The spirit of seasoned hunters.
"What of the Left Guardian's whereabouts?"
"Are you referring to the Left Guardian of the Golden Wings Sect?"
"Do you think I meant someone else? I never liked him from the moment I saw him standing idly at the temple gates. And you, for a messenger of the Yeoryeong Sect, seem exceedingly dull."
"My apologies if I offended you."
"Hah!"
The old man with a greatsword on his back, Armor Piercing Divine Sword, Kim Hui-chul of the Golden Wings Sect, scoffed.
His gaze was fixed on the nondescript man in yellow robes before him.
Yet the man from the Yeoryeong Sect seemed more focused on something else.
His mouth moved toward Kim Hui-chul, but his eyes were elsewhere.
Buuuuung— Uuuuuuung!
The half-destroyed inner sanctuary of Emei Sect
A golden Buddha statue bounced through the air, twisting and spinning in place as if dancing.
It was Void Grasp, handled as if it were a mere toy.
It originated from a small woman draped in a red-gold robe. Following the flicker of her eyes, the treasure of the Emei Sect danced.
Below, the wooden plaque bearing the inscription Emei lay split in two. Meanwhile, the black hair of the Golden Wings Sect's leader, which barely reached the nape of her neck, shimmered with a faint, transparent heat.
A sweet aroma of wine wafted from the jade flask in her grip.
"We lost them."
The Golden Wings Sect's leader muttered, speaking to herself about the leader of Emei Sect.
Without turning around, she gave an order to the man from the Yeoryeong Sect holding a piece of paper.
"Read it."
"…Y-yes. I will."
The man, who had been staring blankly at the Golden Wings Sect's leader, opened the letter with both hands.
"…The land has long been barren. The grass and trees wither. Though the flow of fate has changed, and pickaxes are more precious than swords, those who claim to possess great martial skill are busy using their strength to rob the people of their meager sustenance."
"Rob them? Doesn't the sect have farmland?"
The Golden Wings Sect's leader tilted her head slightly as she asked.
The Armor Piercing Divine Sword, who had been glaring disapprovingly at the Yeoryeong Sect messenger, spoke up.
"That was acquired about twenty years ago after we wiped out a landlord's family. The local magistrate of Mahobu forged the land registry, and we split their sleeping quarters in half during the night. It was handled cleanly, so it's understandable that you'd have forgotten."
"Ah."
"I shall continue reading."
The messenger said, glancing at the Golden Wings Sect's leader as she gave a slight tilt of her pale chin. He then lowered his eyes back to the letter.
"Those who selfishly wield swords contribute nothing to the nation. They do not know how to cultivate crops, nor do they pay tribute. Their conduct is no different from the monkeys in the mountains."
"Monkeys?"
"The way they flail their limbs in the guise of martial arts is no different either."
"..."
Without pause, the messenger continued reading.
"The one writing this is but an insignificant junior in the grand scheme of the martial world. Yet, in all my travels, I have found little worth learning. The world of Jianghu—supposedly a place where extraordinary individuals and wondrous feats abound—was, in truth, filled with nothing but dust and dirt."
"He speaks as if he were one of the Desolate Fortress' Purple-Robed Scholars."
The Armor Piercing Divine Sword let out a disbelieving chuckle.
The messenger, unfazed, pressed on.
"Lately, the Thirteen Celestial Demons have been causing trouble. They have brought calamity upon the Sichuan Tang Clan, who dutifully pay their tribute, and the Emei Sect, who protect the people with Buddhist compassion. And yet, they still seek reverence and fame."
"Give it to me."
Rip—
With a brief command from the Golden Wings Sect's leader, the paper was snatched up and tossed into the air.
The bright sunlight reflected off the bold, careless strokes of the calligraphy.
[…Thus, I ask you this.
What is the meaning of your existence?
You all live off the people while parading yourselves as mighty warriors. If you truly wish to call yourselves strong, then your martial skills must match your arrogance. Otherwise, you will find yourselves in unbearable disgrace.
But martial arts, by nature, cannot be judged without direct comparison.
So to the demonic faction scoundrels reading this letter—I declare:
On the night of the next full moon, a Life-and-Death Duel Tournament will be held.
The leaders of the Qingcheng and Emei Sects shall stand beside me.
Come to the highest peak of Mount Meishan, Sichuan.
The leaders of Ten Perfection Sect, Pure Demon Alliance, Golden Wings Sect, and all other renowned grand factions must also attend.
Desolate Fortress.
The Radiant Demon Squad's leader wishes to see you.]