A Ming noblewoman, her black hair cascading down to her shoulders, lifted the sleeve of Sword of Just Judgement's robe, her blue eyes shining.
Sarak—
A long needle, firmly embedded in the palm of the lifeless man, was revealed. It was precisely in the hand that had been pointing at Jung Yeonshin.
Anyone could see it was a concealed weapon.
A true master can kill with a mere reed, so it was not an unjust killing.
As the squad leader in the Divine Sword Order, Immortal Spirit Wood Squad's leader Cheon So-so intended to argue as much, upholding the will of the people.
"...?"
It was a meaningless gesture. The eyes of the surrounding spectators had already shifted elsewhere.
A vast forest of pale gray had suddenly unfolded in the wasteland on the outskirts of the city.
It was dense, expansive, and even the towering pavilions scattered throughout exuded an overwhelming sense of antiquity.
The formation had completely collapsed.
It was no different from when the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Formation, which once concealed the Blood Flame Cult's main base, was shattered at the feet of the Desolate Fortress' Lord.
To commoners and even most martial artists, it was an awe-inspiring sight. The true face of the colossal Dark Night War had been revealed to the world.
Dark Night War.
A great sect of killers armed with bows, more infamous than any assassin organization in the world.
Their ways were no different from other factions of the Thirteen Celestial Demons, frequently raiding granary regions under the belief that lowly Han people should not be blessed by the land's bounty.
No one paid attention to the fate of the stiffened Sword of Just Judgement.
At least, not the commoners. They were too overwhelmed by the terrifying spectacle before them.
"T-that…?!"
"What kind of sorcery is this?"
"A divine being… A young immortal has descended! His very appearance was extraordinary!"
A handful of people reacted differently.
Those with ruddy complexions or adorned in expensive garments grew somber.
Some did not hesitate to turn on their heels and quietly flee.
"Hah, I found it strange that trade volume didn't decrease much even during a famine, but…"
"If that really is the Dark Night War, then we're in deep trouble. There will be nothing but a bloodstorm!"
"We should hurry back. Lock the doors tight."
These were people well-versed in the ways of the world.
Martial artists with keen senses, as well as street fighters and third-rate warriors who had learned martial arts by mere observation, all began retreating.
As the shadowy forest filled the wasteland, a formidable aura radiated from the outsiders. The overwhelming and unrestrained surge of power kicked up strong winds.
The presence of the seemingly divine warriors, distinct among a group consisting mostly of refined men and women, was perceived by the people of Guizhou as nothing short of celestial generals descending from the heavens.
A thick cloud of dust rose far into the distance.
Jung Yeonshin glanced down at the sword in his hand. Fine cracks had formed all across its pristine white blade. The recoil of the sword technique.
'A sword is just a consumable.'
Even if all the Ten Perfection Sect's weapons were divine weapons, it made no difference. Breaking a formation of Dark Night War with just a single weapon was a cheap price to pay.
Jung Yeonshin lightly brushed the scabbard at his waist. Yurei was not just a weapon—it was a soul.
Swoosh.
He offered a silent bow of gratitude to Cheon So-so, then approached Xiahou Wei-jin.
The bundle strapped to the Forest Striding Squad's leader's back contained the Ten Perfection Sect's leader's Eighteen Weapons, as well as valuable supplies such as dried meat, water pouches, and salt.
As an equal-ranking leader, Jung Yeonshin had effortlessly drawn a sword from the air using Void Grasp, but he could not return it in the same manner.
Jung Yeonshin considered himself a junior well-versed in etiquette and propriety.
"How did you do it? There was something extraordinary in that strike."
Xiahou Wei-jin bent slightly forward and asked.
Jung Yeonshin carefully wrapped the Ten Perfection Sect's leader's sword back into the bundle. It might be needed again soon.
"It was clearly Sword Resonance, wasn't it? That rare art only the imperial family of Beijing is said to enjoy."
The Dragon-Stepping Squad's leader, Wei Ji-geuk, approached with a casual stride, his gaze filled with unconcealed astonishment as he glanced at Jung Yeonshin.
"Yes, His Imperial Highness provided the inspiration."
Jung Yeonshin replied. Interest flickered across Wei Guk-sang's face.
"His Imperial Highness? You have ties with the Crown Prince?"
"Now that I think about it, they say the golden character 'Desolate' was once embroidered on your shoulder. If the Fortress' Lord personally imparted her teachings, then you must be martial siblings."
It was the Supreme Martial Hall's leader.
With a slow, metallic clank of his prosthetic leg, he approached, his interest seemingly more focused on Jung Yeonshin's swordplay than the sprawling forest beside them.
"I appreciate the enlightenment. The sword techniques of the Forbidden City have a different flavor. Unlike the imperial family, who indulge in refined artistry, yours are meant for killing. Quite fascinating."
"You are well-versed in the martial arts of Beijing?"
Jung Yeonshin inquired. The Supreme Martial Hall's leader chuckled kindly.
"I've seen them from time to time. I even worked covertly as an instructor for the Imperial Guard. Anyway, about what you just did—it was a single-strike technique, and yet you controlled its trajectory. Is it a unique martial art?"
The senior leaders' gazes were fixed on Jung Yeonshin. He felt slightly embarrassed.
He gave a brief "Yes" and stepped forward.
Beside him, Ak Surim followed with a bright smile. Ahead of them stretched an ashen forest.
Jung Yeonshin glanced down at Ak Surim's crown and spoke.
"Do you believe the Dark Night War's leader is inside?"
"No. If something happened to Order's leader Yong, then no matter how vast the martial world is, there are only two people we should consider first."
"You mean the Yeoryung Sect's leader? And the other… the Dark Night War's leader?"
"Yeah. That guy can shoot One Kill Every Ten Li from twenty li away. And that's all thanks to the thrashing he took from Order's leader Yong back in the day. Their grudge runs deep."
"Twenty li away…?"
That was beyond human. A literal transcendent being.
A man said to have single-handedly subdued an entire nation's army while carrying a vast stockpile of Thunderbolts. His mastery of archery had reached the heavens.
"With a gaze that can see that far, there's no way he'd be holed up in the sect's main base. That place is probably guarded by the Young Lord."
Ak Surim adjusted the spear slung over her back.
She wasn't visibly tense, but she didn't seem to be heading out for a casual stroll either.
Jung Yeonshin murmured quietly.
"The Young Lord of the Dark Night War…"
"He's a bit different from the countless heirs of the Thirteen Celestial Demons. A rather valuable one. Catch him, and there will be a reward."
Step.
The senior leaders, having withdrawn their gazes from Jung Yeonshin, began walking in unison.
They had just realized that their humble junior was, in fact, a reserved individual.
Dragon-Stepping Squad's leader Wei Ji-geuk chuckled as he effortlessly unfastened the rope at his waist.
"Valuable? What, is he supposed to be the head of the Nine Great Sects or something?"
At that moment, Ak Surim's spear shaft tapped him on the head, accompanied by the words, "Northern bumpkin."
"It's because he's tied to the Imperial Family of Beijing. The faded clans consider him a royal descendant. He's practically the leader of the rebels."
Faded clans.
Jung Yeonshin suddenly recalled the Great Ming Chronicles, a book he had read so many times as a child that its pages were worn thin.
It told the story of his long-eared, short-statured brethren returning to their homeland, overthrowing the wicked Yuan, and founding a nation alongside Taizu.
Back then, it was said that the Dark Night War had sided with the Yuan. Even after the founding of Ming, they were labeled as traitors yet never driven out.
A main base that had remained utterly hidden.
Masters so elusive that wielding a single bow was enough to proclaim them the greatest in the martial world.
"You destroyed it, so you take the lead. This will be the finishing touch."
Ak Surim chattered away.
Jung Yeonshin could guess what was left unsaid in her words.
Merit that reached the realm of purple. Even as the damp air from the forest ahead brushed against his skin, he silently pushed the dirt beneath his feet, leaving shallow footprints behind.
The senior leaders followed him.
* * *
"A suspicious group has entered?"
"There are many Ming nobles among them. Their physiques and attire are all extraordinary."
Voices passed back and forth, utterly indifferent.
A handsome young man, half-reclined on a grand chair entwined with tree vines, listened to the report.
His skin was a faint gray, his ears sharply pointed like blades.
His complexion belonged to a barbarian. But his ears were proof of noble blood.
Though far more scorned than the Han, his clan was as lofty as the Ming. The silk robe embroidered with a dragon in silver thread suited him perfectly.
On one of his shoulders perched a bird with strikingly sharp feathers, tilting its head.
The man kneeling before the noble gazed up at the youth with the usual reverence.
"The martial world is in turmoil. We must not lower our guard."
"Yes. They could be the black-clad masters rumored to be lurking in the shadows. I shall notify the outer patrols."
The kneeling subordinate lowered his head. His speech was archaic. His demeanor was not that of someone addressing a superior but of one paying respects to a prince of a nation.
His appearance was similar to the youth—ashen skin, and ears as long as those of Liu Bei from Shu Han.
The Young Lord of Dark Night War nodded silently.
On a silver tray resting on the armrest of the chair, he plucked a single reddish grape and popped it into his mouth.
It was then.
His brow twitched.
"…Resplendent Scepter Formation has been broken."
"I shall investigate."
His subordinate did not question him. He immediately stood and looked to the Young Lord.
As he chewed the grape, a detached command fell from his lips.
"Open the One Kill Every Ten Li batteries. All ten locations."
"I heed your command."
The subordinate's lips began moving.
It was Ten Li Transmission, one of the many secret arts of Dark Night War, yet one of the most difficult to master.
In an instant, the orders were relayed to the watchtowers surrounding the Young Lord's pavilion.
"…The orders have been delivered. Now, about the outside…"
"First, evacuate the children of those who went out for the harvest. One Kill Every Ten Li will not be enough. Deploy Night Phantom Blazing King Formation, Nine Calamities Heavenly Bow Unit, and Ruined Palace Bewitching Strike. You may also mobilize all one hundred Thunderbolt Wall archers under my direct command."
This was a declaration of the hundreds of years of Dark Night War's history.
It referred to everyone except those who had left to slay the Divine Sword Order's leader. It was nearly the full might of the sect.
The Young Lord stroked the Dread Talon Bird perched on his shoulder.
"One Kill Every Ten Li will buy us time at the entrance."
At that moment, a thunderous roar erupted.
The black-marble-adorned hall trembled with booming echoes.
Dust crumbled from the ceiling, and the vibrations that had begun outside now reverberated through the great hall.
The barrage of One Kill Every Ten Li had begun.
It was like being struck by a sudden bolt of lightning.
Such a thing had never happened in the Dark Night War.
His subordinate lowered his head.
"You must leave now. I do not know what has happened, but they have found our main base and even broken through the formation. Their force must be at least three black-rank warriors."
His voice was earnest. His words carried the loyalty of a vassal.
But the Young Lord stood from the chair and shook his head.
"Do you know what dignity means?"
"Young Lord…!"
"It is the composure befitting one's status."
In the next instant, an enormous bow appeared in his hand as if conjured from thin air.
The center grip of the bowstring was reinforced with red leather, and at both ends of the great bow, dragon heads with open jaws were carved.
"I do not know how many of my warriors will lose their lives, but how could I turn my back on my clan's people?"
"...."
"For someone of my status, fleeing is more shameful than death. My karma runs deep."
It was then.
BANG—! CRACK-CRACK-CRACK—!
Explosions rang out as arrows and weapons clashed, and entire pavilions were shattered.
Faintly, battle cries could be heard amidst the destruction.
The corner of the Young Lord's mouth lifted slightly.
"The Night Phantom Blazing King Formation was swept away by some girl's spear strike. It must be Desolate Divine Spear. In the southwest, the Nine Calamities Heavenly Bow Unit has yet to land a single shot on that famed Blood Preservation Squad's leader. The Lord himself was supposed to return with the Divine Sword Order's leader… what unexpected misfortune is this?"
"The Ruined Palace Bewitching Strike has been breached by five individuals. One, three, six… their internal energy flow is astonishing…! Even the One Kill Every Ten Li formation is collapsing! It seems to be the black-rank warriors of the Divine Sword Order! You must flee, regardless of honor…!"
His subordinate's voice, which had been trembling, finally broke into a shout.
In an instant, the clan's characteristic composure shattered.
They were experiencing an unprecedented event.
Like an unforeseen natural disaster, danger had arrived without warning.
The crisis they thought would allow them at least a moment's reprieve had instead struck without so much as the time to sip a cup of tea.
No faction in the martial world should have been capable of such a thing.
The Dread Talon Bird standing on the Young Lord's shoulder flapped its wings.
"I cannot turn my back on these wretches. My birthright forbids it."
The Young Lord nocked a long arrow to his bowstring, speaking slowly.
His voice remained as calm as ever.
"We are already cornered. I wonder what the first of these wretches to arrive will look like…"
KWAHHHHH—!
Before he could even finish his sentence, the ceiling shattered into pieces.
In that instant, the arrow loosed from his great bow turned pitch black, tracing a trajectory like the night sky.
But through the scattering dust, a leather boot descended, stomping precisely onto the shaft of the loosed arrow.
It was an utterly flawless movement.
As the dust swirled and dispersed, a long leg emerged.