Was it a fiend from the Classic of Mountains and Seas pounding against the mountain peak?
At this moment, the waves battering against the cave walls were overwhelmingly fierce. Powerful shockwaves erupted one after another.
The scribes of the Slaughter Sect, who had been incessantly murmuring and transcribing the transmitted voice messages, completely froze.
It felt as though an intangible fear from the incomprehensible was creeping through the underground plaza.
Boom! Boom—! Kwaaaaang!
One by one, the energy signals relaying information from above began to disappear. The speed was terrifyingly fast.
Like concentric ripples on a translucent water surface, the waves of power filling the air vanished without a trace.
It did not feel like something conjured by human hands. It was closer to a fragment of disaster itself.
"It has come at last. The strongest, most insatiable peerless swordsman in Liaodong…."
The Chivalrous Slayer, Kim Jon-hwi, muttered as if reciting an old tale.
Perhaps this was his way of maintaining a state of calm, like the stillness of a pristine mirror. Even in this dire situation, his demeanor remained fitting for the Hero of the Desolate Fortress.
Up until that moment.
Jung Yeonshin never took his eyes off the sword scar left by the leader of the Murong Clan.
The immaculate, seamless trace seemed to pull at his very soul. Even his upper dantian hummed faintly in resonance.
It was divine technique. The sword itself was an embodiment of it.
The words of the Chivalrous Slayer were beginning to make sense. The elders of the Slaughter Sect, who had gazed endlessly at the sword's trajectory—had become blank-minded fools.
The path left behind by one of the Eight Great Clans, by someone who had devoted their entire life to the sword, exuded an eerie transcendence. It was the spirit said to be imbued within divine techniques.
'There's no hesitation in the severed surface. Only one thing can be felt.'
An intent that nothing could be left uncut.
The absolute conviction that one's sword strikes descended like a meteor shower, ordained by Heaven's Mandate.
It was said that swordsmen who had reached a certain realm communicated through their blades. The arrogant will of the Murong Clan's leader came through loud and clear.
It was an aura befitting a ruler of the martial world, utterly different from the humble refinement that the current Radiant Demon Squad's leader had cultivated. It was an overwhelming confidence, noble and absolute.
Jung Yeonshin slowly lifted his head.
The dim cave ceiling.
A vibration spread through the unseen walls, so faint that one could not perceive it without a trained gaze. It was sword energy transmitted from an unknown distance. A force of staggering precision.
Striking the cow through the mountain.
A technique that forced the transmission of force to a target regardless of obstacles.
Typically executed through fists and palms, but the peerless master striking down from dozens of zhang above had clearly surpassed conventional understanding.
A straight sword strike, its force cascading down like an earthquake.
Boom—! Boom—!
The pounding repeated twice more before the sound began to fade.
It was as if a fiend searching for prey had decided to move elsewhere.
At last, a strange sense of relief filled the underground plaza.
"For now, we are safe. They don't know our exact location yet."
The Chivalrous Slayer, Kim Jon-hwi, tapped the ground with feigned ease.
"The sacred artifact of the Heavenly Demon is masking our presence. No matter how great a master may be, even if I were to recklessly unleash my power and perform a sword dance right here, they wouldn't sense a single ripple of energy. It's just… the loss of those who formed our sect's relay network. That is what pains me the most."
His words trailed off bitterly. There was an undertone of sorrow uncharacteristic of an assassin.
Jung Yeonshin merely nodded slightly.
Another artifact. A treasure capable of wielding supernatural power.
The stronger one's martial prowess became, the more one encountered the countless mysteries of the Murim.
'Is she doing well?'
He recalled the Covenant Stone of the First Fist of the Eun Clan that he had entrusted to Zhuge Qing-ya before heading to Taiyuan.
A sacred artifact that embodied the Zhuge Clan's characteristic clarity, one that had inspired the creation of Fan Dragon Lotus Binding Technique.
At the time, the young girl, who had lost both her father and elder brother, had silently gazed at the stone for a long while before carefully accepting it.
— I appreciate your trust. I will uncover all of its abilities… Please, safeguard yourself, Great Leader.
That was all. No further words had been exchanged.
Jung Yeonshin had deliberately left room for her to act freely. He had granted her permission to move alone.
With the deaths of Fan Dragon and Reincarnated Dragon, Zhuge Qing-ya had become the sole direct descendant of the Zhuge Clan. It was only natural for her to bear the responsibility of its survival as the next clan head.
After all, her affiliation with the Radiant Demon Squad had been a calculated move, to showcase the alliance between the Murim Alliance and Desolate Fortress.
A warning to the Thirteen Celestial Demons would never take precedence over the very fate of the Zhuge Clan.
'Where has she gone?'
Had she returned to the Desolate Fortress with the two seniors, or had she chosen to go home?
Either way, he hoped she would find peace. Once the crisis at hand was resolved, their paths would inevitably cross again.
While the squad leader, Jung Yeonshin, was lost in his brief thoughts, Heon Wonchang grasped the Chivalrous Slayer's collar and led him to one side of the cave.
He silently sought permission from Jung Yeonshin through transmitted voice.
— The final mnemonic verse of the Slaughter Sect's secret technique… It was a lie. In the end, I had to break the seal using my own strength and your martial arts.
— You couldn't fully unseal it?
— Later, I will explain everything. Over a cup of Bamboo Leaf Green, perhaps.
Only after seeing his squad leader nod did Heon Wonchang turn his gaze to the Chivalrous Slayer.
"Brother, there is something we must discuss. It directly concerns your future."
"Is it urgent? Even if we have an artifact masking us, our position remains unchanged. We must move the disciples to a safe house before that meteor sword monster arrives. No one knows how much strength such peerless masters hide. For all we know, they could carve out the entire cliff face."
"This is important. You must hear it before the elders arrive. Those old men… they have deceived you, hiding something all along."
The rest of the conversation was inaudible, likely conducted through transmitted voice.
Only the occasional irregular shifts in the Chivalrous Slayer's breathing hinted at the gravity of the matter.
And the way Heon Wonchang casually patted his elder cousin's shoulder, one could almost glimpse a fragment of their childhood.
Jung Yeonshin thought as he watched the two.
At least, Heon Wonchang still cherished his blood relatives.
"..."
For a brief moment, he thought of the Jung Manor before turning his gaze back to the sword scar left by the leader of the Murong Clan.
The long, sweeping trail of the blade was worthy of his attention. There was much to be gleaned from it.
The strength of a Heavy Sword, the speed of a Swift Sword, the ultimate sharpness of Slicing Force, and even the unique way of channeling energy to elevate the cutting power to its peak. If he examined it a little longer, he might even reverse-engineer the grip technique used to wield the sword.
The current Radiant Demon Squad's leader had always admired such refined martial arts. Ever since the moment he successfully fled from the Jung Manor's courtyard using Jung Clan Movement Arts, a place where no one had spared him a glance.
Even when his senior martial siblings reunited with their true families, Jung Yeonshin never felt particularly lonely. He always had his mother, who embraced him completely.
How long had he been like this?
From one of the tunnels leading into the underground plaza, the presence of dozens of people spread forth, bringing with them familiar voices that reached his ears.
"You look well. It feels like ten years since we last met."
"Squad leader!"
Two figures separated from the approaching group.
One was a short-haired rogue, strolling forward in a lazy, swinging gait—the Poppy Addict. The other was a girl, leaping forward with the lithe and elegant steps of a cat—the true successor of the Lightning Genius' lineage.
Lazy Flame Dragon and Shin So-bin arrived before their leader.
"You've changed again. Guess it's to be expected at your age."
"You've been well, right? You look fine, but… I heard you killed that depraved bastard from the Zhuge Clan. I couldn't believe it at first, but I believed it because it was you, leader."
Lazy Flame Dragon's sharp, offhand remarks and Shin So-bin's incessant chatter burying them were both familiar.
A faint smile touched Jung Yeonshin's lips.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, Shin So-bin leaned in slightly, her small face tilting up.
Was she imitating Baek Miryeo? Her thick lashes fluttered as if she was trying to act like an older sister.
"You must be exhausted. Just listening to your journey, I could tell it wasn't a normal martial world venture… I'm afraid Wave Swordswoman and Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman might scold me for not properly assisting you. No, I already feel bad about it myself. May I check your pulse?"
"The White Cat is still so immature."
"Huh? Excuse me, but who's calling who immature…?"
"You're the same age as our leader, yet your tempestuous youth seems to have arrived late. At your age, one's heart should be restless even in bed. And with our leader's many karmic burdens, those legs of his will only grow stronger with each passing night. Soon enough, the martial world will have more to fear from his Footwork than from the sword of Lotus Nezha…"
"So you really did chew on Poppy Flowers even while staying with the Slaughter Sect?"
He'd been told to quit ages ago. Jung Yeonshin muttered as he observed their banter.
A reunion of the Radiant Demon Squad in Desolate Fortress.
Noisy yet natural.
Even as the aged assassins draped in black Blood-Wind Robes cast wary glances at Jung Yeonshin while moving past, the two retainers of Radiant Demon Squad scrutinized the lines of muscle and the waves of energy rippling from their leader's robe.
The sharp eyes of the masters of Desolate Fortress could grasp much in a mere moment. Only after several breaths did their gazes withdraw as if nothing had happened.
By then, the conversation between Chivalrous Slayer Kim Jon-hwi and Heon Wonchang had concluded.
"I will lead the disciples. Seon-hwi, go to the secret vault and retrieve a small bronze box. It's tiny, containing only a few scraps of paper. There's no map, but… I know you've already studied all the escape routes and are familiar with this area. I'm counting on you."
"I am not an assassin. I have no wish to be involved any further…"
"But I have no one else to trust now, do I?"
Kim Jon-hwi's old-fashioned wit bore a resemblance to Heon Wonchang's.
Yet his tone carried a slight chill.
He had just learned that the secret martial technique meant to formally acknowledge the next sect leader had been completely lost during the Heavenly Demon Tomb Rebellion.
He trusted his younger brother.
With his black bamboo hat pulled low, the Chivalrous Slayer stood before the approaching elders, careful not to reveal his gaze.
"The Secret Vault? Acting Sect Leader, are you seriously entrusting the sect's treasure to Kim Seon-hwi?"
"He's an outsider! How can you say something so outrageous? The trial wasn't even completed!"
Kim Jon-hwi did not respond to each retort.
"Have you not sensed the presence of the Meteor Sword? The priority right now is to evacuate the disciples. As the sole direct descendant, Seon-hwi will bring the Heavenly Demon Tomb's relic with him. By right of lineage, he could even challenge for the Sect Leader's position. How dare the elders call him an outsider?"
"Listen, Acting Sect Leader—"
"The strongest swordsman in Liaodong has come for our sect. No matter how you think about it, we need to act first. That monstrous force could shatter the entire mountain peak at any moment. Let's take the disciples and move to the safe house."
A proper assassin sect never had just one hideout.
The saying 'A cunning rabbit has three burrows' was a lesson most essential to the craft of assassination. There were always multiple escape tunnels.
"The disciples, this way! Those who just returned, relay the message through the Black Messengers! We regroup at the southern safe house of Grand Eastern Manor!"
A command given with the discipline of a great sect.
Though donned in the garb of an assassin, he commanded like a general.
At Kim Jon-hwi's gesture, dozens of assassins swiftly moved across the underground plaza.
Within that movement, the Chivalrous Slayer's presence emanated forcefully.
The vast underground cavern bustled with activity.
Among the observing Radiant Demon Squad, Lazy Flame Dragon clicked his tongue.
"It reminds me of those Namgoong bastards. Watching assassins crawl into the sunlight."
"In the midst of this chaos, the strongest sect in Shaanxi has just been decided. Right, leader?"
And then, suddenly.
Boom! Kwaaang! Kwaaaaaang—!
A deafening roar streaked across the ceiling of the cave. Fragments of stone crumbled down.
The faces of the assassins seated at stone tables paled. This was unlike their earlier reports on the movements of the Murong Clan's leader or the Profound Martial Alliance.
"The Forbidden Gate Formation has been breached."
"Report immediately. It seems the Signal Wall Formation has been destroyed."
Even their speech changed.
Though their voices remained steady, an unmistakable urgency was present.
Their widened pupils absorbed the cave's energy through their Baihui Acupoints as they opened their mouths.
"The Black Sword's transmission has been severed. No energy signal detected."
"The Immortal Palace Resonance Formation has been shattered! The upper levels have been completely breached!"
"They're coming!"
Wuuuuuuuung—!
In the next instant, a deep, resonant echo swallowed all other voices.
It was as if a dragon from ancient legend had thrust its head into the underground plaza and roared.
Was it trying to completely obliterate the cave walls? The overwhelming pressure rang painfully in their ears.
An unseen force expanded violently in all directions.
Something was coming.
Kwaaaaang!
With an explosion, a cloud of dust erupted.
The entire space turned to a haze of debris, and the ground beneath their feet trembled as if struck by an earthquake.
Lazy Flame Dragon reacted the fastest.
"No need for any useless bravado. We should get the hell out of here."
His voice, infused with Blazing Solar Energy, tore through the storm of shockwaves.
Without sparing a glance at the assassins, he glanced at Heon Wonchang and Shin So-bin, signaling retreat.
The message was clear to everyone. The glint of wild light in his eyes preemptively cast off any burdens on Jung Yeonshin.
"This place is a damn spider's web. Hide in any of the Slaughter Sect's safe houses."
The surroundings were covered in dust. One could barely make out the silhouettes of figures.
Even that was only possible thanks to the sunlight now piercing down from above, though no one here seemed to consider it a blessing.
Ziiing—
A chilling sword resonance scraped against the air. It came from within the swirling dust, intermittently obscuring the vertical beams of sunlight.
An incomprehensibly sharp presence began to fill the vast cavern.
A figure stood in midair, stepping upon the void, the shape of a blade stretching endlessly beneath them, gazing down upon the assembly.
"..."
He had manifested.
The peerless swordsman who had long sought the Heavenly Demon's legacy.
His form was concealed by the gray dust draped around him like a curtain. His figure remained unseen, yet his presence alone exuded an oppressive silence, as though it forcibly strangled the very act of breathing.
"I've found it."
A deep voice resonated.
The energy contained within a single utterance swept across the chamber like a faintly rising dragon.
No one responded. The silence only grew heavier.
They had fallen beneath the feet of the greatest swordsman in Liaodong.
The leader of the Murong Clan.
Star-Radiance Grand Sword Lord, Murong Zhongrak.
There was no need to say that his name was legendary. The Eight Great Clan Lords had long been absolute rulers.
The mere act of revealing their presence carried the certainty of death. It was a law of the Murim, as inevitable as fate itself.
Now that they faced him, it was already too late.
None dared to break the silence.
Only.
At this moment, a figure rose soundlessly, drifting upward toward the shadow of the peerless master overlooking the underground plaza.
The hem of a pitch-black robe fluttered in the air.
Standing upon the length of a drawn blade, their hands hung loosely at their sides.