Chapter 85
The next morning.
Jaseong's group changed into tattered clothes.
They strapped bundles of wood onto their backs and held farming tools in their hands.
Their faces were covered with new human-skin masks, transforming them into the rough appearance of slash-and-burn folk from the mountains.
However, in the travel bag slung over their shoulders were Murong Clan's martial robes—taken from Murong Hwang and his escorts.
Jaseong silently reiterated his plan in his mind.
'As soon as we spot those Zhongnan bastards, we'll immediately change into Murong Clan martial robes and cover ourselves.'
The plan was straightforward and clear.
As mentioned before, they would disguise themselves as Murong Clan members and cut down Zhongnan.
This would trigger a great conflict between Zhongnan and Murong Clan.
Not only would it achieve vengeance for his eldest brother and sister-in-law, but it would also allow him to accomplish the sixth Heaven's Mandate—'Cause a Rift in the Martial World.'
It was a strategy that killed two birds with one stone.
Thus, disguised as slash-and-burn folk, Jaseong's party began searching Yinyang County.
Then, at a certain moment—
[Great hero. Someone's coming.]
Lee Rin, who was walking up ahead, relayed a secret transmission.
Just as she said, several people could be seen approaching along the wooded path up ahead.
There was no need for much worry—they walked like ordinary people who had never learned martial arts.
Their attire was shabby as well.
Seeing the farming tools such as plows in their hands, it was clear at a glance that they were slash-and-burn folk.
'Were those the very slash-and-burn folk who prepared our meal the other day?'
As Jaseong murmured inwardly, a middle-aged man with a gentle impression among the group walked over and asked,
"Where have you come from? Are you folks cultivating slash-and-burn fields in the area?"
Jaseong replied calmly,
"We farm the slash-and-burn fields on the northern foot of the mountain."
"Ah, so you're from there. Things have been unsettled in this region lately, so I was concerned... Have you experienced anything strange?"
"Strange things?"
When Jaseong replied with a question, a young girl standing beside the middle-aged man stepped forward.
She looked about sixteen years old, her face still youthful, but her eyes were clear and bright.
"Martial artists have been swarming in and now Yinyang County is in chaos. A few nights back, there was such a commotion one would think a major fight broke out over the whole mountain."
"... We heard it as well. So it was the work of martial artists."
"We commoners must just stay out of their way if we want to avoid trouble. It's always best not to go near those terrifying people."
Hearing the girl's words, Jaseong was suddenly reminded of his old days.
Back when he was a junior guard who knew nothing about martial arts—even he lived in fear of martial artists, just like these slash-and-burn folk.
At that moment, the girl abruptly approached and offered something to Jaseong.
"Here, big brother, take this."
"?"
"Especially at times like these, people need to help each other."
What she held out was a handful of acorns.
"I picked them in the southern mountain. You can grind them into powder to make acorn jelly or cook them into porridge."
"It's all right. We already have enough food."
"Oh, as if slash-and-burn folk like us ever really have enough."
Jaseong tried to decline, but the girl pressed several handfuls of acorns into his hand.
"Take them, take them. If us slash-and-burn folk don't help each other out, who else will?"
A strange warmth rose in Jaseong's heart.
He could not recall the last time he had received such pure goodwill.
Then, Lee Rin, who had been listening quietly, asked the slash-and-burn girl,
"By the way, do you happen to know where those martial artists are staying?"
"Eh? Why do you ask?"
"We want to avoid that area."
"Hmm... On the mid-slope of Mount Giryeong to the east, there are a few hermitages for wandering monks. But lately, it seems martial artists are staying there. They were wearing white martial robes with a droplet pattern...."
Droplet pattern.
The moment they heard those words, both Jaseong's and his companions' eyes gleamed.
That was unmistakably the mark of Zhongnan.
"In any case, you should be careful. Folks like us should avoid being seen by martial artists."
With that, the slash-and-burn girl and her family took their leave.
Once they had moved far enough away, Lee Rin spoke up again.
"Great hero. It seems we've found Zhongnan's hideout."
Jaseong quietly nodded.
"So it seems."
"What do you want to do now?"
Jaseong paused for a moment, gazing at Mount Giryeong to the east.
It was where the disciples of Zhongnan—the enemies who wronged his eldest brother—were said to be.
But for some reason, he felt an ominous energy emanating from that direction.
* * *
Meanwhile, around the same time, in the valley of Mount Giryeong in Yinyang County.
There, the disciples of Jungcheon Sect—a minor sect of Jiangsu Province—were staying.
Jungcheon Sect had fewer than thirty disciples.
Yet their prestige was rather well-known.
Back during the Great Heavenly Demon War, the sect leader Cheon In-do became famous as a chivalrous swordsman who practiced righteousness and gallantry.
A story about how he willingly sacrificed both his arms to save the junior members of the orthodox sects still circulated among the martial world.
Born under such a master, the senior disciple of Jungcheon Sect, Yang Cheonmok, was a youth in his mid-twenties.
His features and build were average, and his martial talent was mediocre, but his character was unwaveringly upright.
For the revival of Jungcheon Sect, Yang Cheonmok had come all the way to Yinyang County in search of the Seven-Star Cloud Blade.
But what awaited him were unexpected foes.
"Brother Yang. With great power comes great cost."
A young man, about the same age as Yang Cheonmok, but whose inner strength was on a totally different league—handsome and dignified.
He was Yun-hak, the chief first disciple of Zhongnan, ranked among the highest of the Nine Sects.
"If a small sect like Jungcheon keeps a treasure like the Seven-Star Cloud Blade, it will only lead to disaster. In fact, it would bring ruin to your sect."
"......."
"So you should cooperate with us so the Seven-Star Cloud Blade can be stored in Great Zhongnan."
Though he called it "cooperation," it sounded like an order.
Yun-hak's eyes brimmed with arrogance toward the minor sects.
Yang Cheonmok gritted his teeth.
'No matter how renowned a big-sect disciple he is, can anyone be this arrogant...! Are these truly supposed to be the future pillars of the orthodox martial world?!'
Yang Cheonmok's fist trembled.
But there was nothing he could do.
Against the great mountain of Zhongnan, jungcheon Sect was but an ant.
In this manner, Zhongnan's disciples intimidated the minor orthodox sects gathered at Yinyang County.
Yet it was not only Zhongnan bullying the minor sects.
"The Seven-Star Cloud Blade is to be taken into custody by the Murim Alliance. Lend your cooperation."
Namgung Ak, the Young Lord of Namgung clan, was no different.
Behind him stood warriors from his family, exuding an overbearing presence.
Even the Daoists from Qingcheng recited all sorts of sophistry as they threatened the small sects.
As for the demonic experts, they simply killed anyone they saw—orthodox or not.
All of this was due to the allure of the treasure, the Seven-Star Cloud Blade.
At that moment, when Zhongnan's Yun-hak was threatening Jungcheon Sect and other minor sects, the Seven-Star Cloud Blade appeared for a second time.
"... It's not as if it's toying with us. Why is it showing up before us again?"
"No matter what, we can't let it slip away this time!"
Yun-hyeon shouted as he dashed out before his fellow disciple Yun-hak.
Already, disciples from numerous sects and families were rushing with them.
In front of them was a figure in black clothes and mask, demonstrating masterful movement skills, darting away.
The figure was not only fast, but slipped through the complicated forest with astonishing agility—only Yun-hyeon and Yun-hak barely managed to keep up.
"But senior, that person in black... doesn't their back look different from the one we saw last time?"
As they ran through the woods, Yun-hak commented.
His senior, Yun-hyeon, then narrowed his eyes.
"It's hard to be sure with the black clothes and mask... but somehow, the back looks feminine. The movement skill is slower than last time."
"We'll find out once we catch them."
"Right. We have to settle this before Namgung Clan or Qingcheng arrives."
While they zealously pursued the person in black, fortune smiled upon Yun-hyeon and Yun-hak.
As the black-clad figure was running through the treetops, their clothes were caught on a branch.
Panicking, the person halted momentarily, which Yun-hyeon did not miss—he instantly drew his sword and unleashed a technique.
"Thirty-Six Heavenly Swords Art—Sun and Moon Twin Execution!"
A burst of sword energy from Yun-hyeon swept furiously forward.
The startled pursuer twisted away in the nick of time, narrowly evading the attack.
But in the process, the Seven-Star Cloud Blade strapped across their back fell.
Shuak!
Yun-hak snatched it up immediately.
He then barked at the masked pursuer.
"Your movement skill is indeed outstanding, but in other martial skills, you are no match for us."
"......."
"If you wish to live, abandon your greed for the Seven-Star Cloud Blade and leave."
With murderous intent emanating from him, Yun-hak's words were chilling.
Yun-hyeon's killing aura was no less.
At that moment,
"Tch!"
The black-clad figure hesitated briefly but—seemingly admitting defeat—vanished into the woods.
Yun-hak, watching this, said,
"They seemed quite capable, but luckily, they backed off without much fuss. Still, senior, shouldn't we give chase?"
"Leave them. Something else to worry about from behind."
Yun-hyeon gripped the Seven-Star Cloud Blade and looked back.
He saw four martial artists running toward them from behind.
It was Yang Cheonmok and others—minor orthodox sect disciples.
Their eyes sparkled at the sight of the Seven-Star Cloud Blade in Yun-hyeon's hand, the expensive luminous stones embedded in its scabbard instantly conjuring the phrase "Eight Great Treasures of the Martial World".
But the next moment, they all glared at Yun-hyeon and Yun-hak with resentment.
"Brother Yun, this is Yang Cheonmok of Jungcheon Sect speaking."
"Go ahead."
"I understand small sects like ours aren't fit to keep the Seven-Star Cloud Blade. But sending it to Zhongnan is no better."
"... What do you mean?"
"You said it yourself—the Seven-Star Cloud Blade is a great treasure, and that powerful experts across the lands covet it. Wouldn't it be safer to store it in the Murim Alliance, not Zhongnan?"
No sooner had Yang Cheonmok finished than disciples from Tohyeon Sect of Sichuan Province chimed in.
"He's right. The Murim Alliance, the heart of the orthodox world, should safeguard the Seven-Star Cloud Blade."
"Besides, young lord Namgung Ak of the Namgung clan is also here in Yinyang County right now...."
Upon hearing this, Yun-hyeon's usually gentle face hardened chillingly.
Then, he did something beyond belief—
Chuaak!
He suddenly drew his sword like lightning and cut down the martial artist on the far right.
"Aaargh!"
Blood spurted through the air.
The survivors shouted in shock.
"Wh-what are you doing all of a sudden, brother Yun?!"
Yun-hyeon gazed coldly at the minor sect disciples.
In his mind rang the sect leader's command:
—Bring the Seven-Star Cloud Blade to Zhongnan, but don't let anyone learn of it—least of all, the Murim Alliance.
Recalling those words, Yun-hyeon gave an order to his junior, Yun-hak.
"Hak."
"Yes, senior."
"Kill them all. Leave no one alive."
"Understood."
With that brief exchange, the forest was quickly stained with the scent of blood.
Chuaak! Chuak!
The martial arts of Yun-hyeon and Yun-hak were truly extraordinary.
As geniuses who earned the title 'Dragon' at the last Dragon-Phoenix
Gathering, they were able to fell two at a swing.
"Aaah?!"
"Kugh! Such... treachery...! How can a disciple of the Nine Sects...?!"
Within moments, all the minor sect disciples present were slaughtered.
The only survivor was Yang Cheonmok of Jungcheon Sect.
But even he looked doomed, black blood trickling endlessly from his mouth—a sign of internal injury.
But at that moment—
"Wow... I always suspected you lot were hypocrites with pitch-black hearts, but to this extent... You're garbage through and through. Unbelievable."
A familiar silhouette in black clothes stepped out from behind the brush.