Chapter 487: Chapter 487

A single gust of wind drifted long before scattering into the air. It carried the same feeling as the greenish locks of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, which always bore the scent of grass.

A violet sleeve, tinged with a subtle golden hue, brushed lightly against the worn tiles of the old roof.

Behind Jeong Yeon-shin.

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress was gazing at him quietly. With a single, small flicker of her eyes, the atmosphere around them wavered ever so slightly.

The tranquil rooftop beneath their feet lost its sense of reality, as though caught in a dream.

But Jeong Yeon-shin did not turn around.

It was fear—fear that he might display an unbecoming demeanor. He truly wished to be a noble man. Baek Mi-ryeo’s safety... He had no right to blame the Lord of Ipwang Fortress for failing in something he himself could not accomplish.

Could he not at least ask?

A luminous voice brushed against his ears. Even then, Jeong Yeon-shin only lowered his gaze slightly, still crouched in a casual posture.

“Do you know what became of Ma Gwang-ik’s First Lotus Sword Burial?”

His voice carried no fluctuations. It was an effort to maintain his composure, but a fleeting worry struck him—had his words sounded too cold to his master? Yet he showed no signs of it.

He did not ask as a disciple, Seomye.

He asked as one clad in the violet robes of Ipwang Fortress.

Once, Yong Hui-myeong, the leader of the Divine Sword Sect, had said that only those draped in violet could stand on equal footing with the fortress lord and discuss the affairs of Ipwang Fortress.

Jeong Yeon-shin belonged to that select group, alongside his maternal grandfather Ma Yeon-jeok and Elder Council Chief Shin Byeok. He had to cast aside personal sentiment.

“They set a date to return him.”

Her answer fell slowly.

In the next instant, Jeong Yeon-shin was right before the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, moving like a flash of light. With a sudden pivot, he kicked off the ground toward her.

The sudden motion sent a gust of wind scattering dust far and wide, and their contrasting hair colors whipped in opposite directions.

For the first time in what felt like ages, the master and disciple of Ipwang Fortress stood face-to-face.

It was the first time since Jeong Yeon-shin had undergone his transformation.

“Who exactly is returning whom? Are you saying the Lord of Ming Cult has agreed to return the First Lotus Sword Burial?”

At that moment, the disciple who had grown taller stood so close that his master’s forehead nearly touched his chest.

Jeong Yeon-shin instinctively took a step back to meet her gaze.

“You are correct. That is what was agreed upon.”

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress parted her lips.

Then, she gazed at Jeong Yeon-shin in silence.

Her eyes, like jade infused with a myriad of green leaves, turned the surroundings still. Her serene gaze carried the brilliance of dew soaking in moonlight on a spring night.

“If you have more questions, ask them here. You must unravel all doubts in your heart, or they will give rise to inner demons.”

Her tone was archaic yet gentle. The voice of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress was like ripples across a lakeside.

Jeong Yeon-shin immediately opened his mouth.

“So Cheonmujuk is said to scoff at the heavens. Can such an assurance truly be trusted? No... more than that, I find it hard to believe that you, Master, would make any kind of agreement with such a person.”

So Cheonmujuk’s martial prowess, now unsealed, was beyond estimation.

Perhaps it was Jeong Yeon-shin of the future who should worry.

But even so, he had never once considered the idea of his master losing to anyone. Even now, such a sight would not take form in his mind.

“The child of Ming Cult cannot go against me.”

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress spoke.

Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent, hoping she would continue. Even if it meant silently urging her, it was justified.

Soon, she spoke again, her lips parting slowly.

“...Because I am your master. And beyond that, they lack the martial ability to impose their will upon me.”

“I have never once formed an attachment to that person.”

“That child is different.”

“My apologies, but I still do not understand.”

“The emotions of a dying demon can be more primal and intense than those of anyone else. That child values you more than you realize.”

At that moment, a martial art flashed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind—Yeon-shin’s Resonance.

A technique that distorts the inherent opposition between divine power and demonic energy. A supreme skill that interferes with natural laws.

So Cheonmujuk had used that method to clash with Jeong Yeon-shin, to meet his strikes and withstand his touch.

It was an obsession that had given birth to a divine technique.

The demonic mind is one of uncontrollable possession.

A nature that seeks to obtain something without regard for means.

This was why the Lord of Ming Cult, So Cheonmujuk, could not defy the Lord of Ipwang Fortress. She was Jeong Yeon-shin’s one and only master, and So Cheonmujuk did not want her speaking about them recklessly.

Their relationship was one where a third party’s involvement was abhorred.

Baek Mi-ryeo’s abduction had been her own choice, but the Lord of Ipwang Fortress’ words had become an unwelcome variable.

And so, she continued.

“They already regard you as one born under the same fate. A demon that craves your understanding and recognition. Because they have mastered a spellcraft that upholds true words, they cannot speak falsehoods, and as the guardian of Celestial Wood, I must only speak the truth. Since both of us discern truth from falsehood through our upper dantian, we exchanged a mutual assurance.”

Had she sensed Jeong Yeon-shin’s inner turmoil?

Her explanation was unusually long.

“You called it fate.”

After a brief moment of staring into her jade-like eyes, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly spoke.

“My fate lies with you, Master.”

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress fell momentarily silent. But Jeong Yeon-shin did not.

“I have yet to receive an answer. Why did you release So Cheonmujuk?”

“You will grow greatly because of them. There was no reason to break your whetstone prematurely.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Her perspective was different from Jeong Yeon-shin’s.

Had it been him, he would not have cared about some whetstone. The immediate death of So Cheonmujuk was far more important.

But he could say nothing.

As one clad in violet, he had failed in the duty he set for himself.

Even more, he owed her a life-saving grace.

If he blamed his master here, he would be beneath even the lowest of worms.

He could not question the principles of Ipwang Fortress.

He had to bury the flames burning within him.

“...When will the First Lotus Sword Burial return?”

“They said with the Beginning of Spring.”

They had only just entered winter. It was too late. Far too late.

Who knew what Baek Mi-ryeo might go through until then?

Yet the Lord of Ipwang Fortress remained utterly calm.

Jeong Yeon-shin felt anger rising once more.

If only he had been stronger.

If only he had pushed harder to pass the Seventh Apostle’s martial trial.

He immediately spoke.

“What of that noble from the Bloodflame Cult?”

“They followed me too closely, so I struck them unconscious.”

“...You took action against them? Why?”

“They were a nuisance.”

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress spoke briefly.

The Gates of Mokga Manor

Eight groups had gathered before the grand entrance of Mokga Manor, waiting for Jeong Yeon-shin. Their formation resembled a siege.

The atmosphere was tumultuous.

Beneath the quiet fluttering of a scops owl’s wings, migrating south to escape the winter, a white feather drifted toward them—only to be snatched away by the sudden gust of wind.

A thunderous explosion erupted at the gates. From within the blast, a bold, booming voice rang out.

“How can your strikes be so feeble?”

A man with sharply pointed ears bellowed.

He was clad in a deep navy ceremonial robe, its flowing fabric adorned with a dragon embroidered upon his shoulders instead of the sun and moon that symbolized the emperor.

The attire of a king, second only to the Son of Heaven.

At that moment, his thick, muscular arms flickered with colorless waves of energy—the residual force from the strike he had just thrown.

The Red Phoenix King, ruler of the western lands of Guangdong.

Opposite him, Cheongmyeong was pushed back, carving a long furrow into the ground before regaining his balance.

Ma Gwang-ik, wielder of the Blue Serenity Sword. Though he did not appear particularly distressed, he did not exude his usual aura of lethality either. He merely flicked his sword once, scattering the dust that had settled upon it.

By contrast, the Red Phoenix King’s expression was far more animated.

A face marked by an innate belligerence, his high-bridged nose—a testament to his imperial Ming bloodline—wrinkled slightly as he twisted his lips. Disappointment was evident.

“I heard you were Jeong Seomye’s right-hand man, yet you lack the spirit to match your reputation.”

Cheongmyeong remained silent.

So did Hyeon Won-chang and Shin So-bin, standing behind him. Only Ak Su-rim seemed on the verge of saying something, but she merely furrowed her brows, her attention drawn to the two other royal factions besides the Red Phoenix King’s retinue.

The sheer pressure weighing upon the rough, gritty soil was overwhelming.

Among the dispersed groups, the warriors of the Four Sacred Martial Alliance and the Gwanheo Trading Association hesitated, uncertain.

Meanwhile, the military forces of Zhejiang’s provincial administration and the Wujun Marshal’s Office stood by, observing in silence.

The reason for this standstill?

Although every faction present had business with Jeong Yeon-shin, none were willing to forsake their dignity by bowing too low.

And for imperial figures and government officials, such a notion was even more unthinkable.

Since the time when the Ipwang Fortress’s Warrior of Unrivaled Prowess had crippled the previous Grand Eunuch of Ceremonies, the imperial clan had woven a vast network of mutual support, ensuring that no member of the Zhu family would suffer such humiliation again.

To guard against such threats, countless members of the imperial lineage had strengthened their ties, forming an imposing front.

At the same time, they diligently reported their every action to the emperor, ensuring that their movements would never be mistaken for treason.

This led to a newfound integrity among them—eliminating the need for covert inspections or purges. The Ipwang Fortress warriors had long since lost any justification to act against them.

However, the authority of the imperial clan remained unshaken.

By birthright, they outranked even the warriors of Ipwang Fortress.

While the elite martial members of the imperial family had been deployed northward en masse, those who remained behind to guard the homeland still commanded considerable strength.

—You lot can leave for now. As for the rest, I’ll have to ask you to wait a while.

The moment the leader of the Gwanheo Trading Association was turned away by Ak Su-rim, one of the Red Phoenix King’s warriors stepped forward.

—Are you really planning to keep the king standing in the middle of the street?

—The Sword of the Nation is currently recovering from internal injuries. Surely, you can understand that much? Unless, of course, you swear to remain outside.

Thus, the conflict began.

In an era where martial strength dictated power, the right to rule was granted to those who wielded the strongest fists.

And among the imperial clan, there were few weaklings.

Many possessed exceptional talent, an innate thirst for battle, or both.

It was simply rare for them to venture into the martial world.

“The warrior of Ipwang Fortress, Ma Gwang-ik, was granted the Radiant Celestial Requiem Sword by the newly appointed Violet Warden, was he not? Why not grant me the chance to broaden my horizons?”

The Red Phoenix King was no exception.

Unlike those who climbed the ranks through office and title, he had been born into power.

“I already hold Jeong Seomye in great regard, so it is only right that he respects my standing as well.”

The young king spoke, his gaze sharpening as he fixated on Cheongmyeong.

In a world where rumors and names held tangible power, an imperial prince could not tolerate such blatant dismissal—not even from a Violet Warden.

With the emperor dead and the elite warriors of the Yao tribe surging southward, the world had plunged into chaos.

Each man for himself.

“Choose one of two options.”

His voice slowed as he continued.

“Either let it be known that the Blue Serenity Sword has given his utmost to entertain this king... or, as representatives of Jeong Seomye, you extend the highest courtesies and welcome the royal household with the respect it deserves.”

Dust suddenly billowed across the ground.

A pulse of power radiated from the Red Phoenix King, cloaking him in five layers of golden energy. A deep, resonant hum filled the air.

It was subtle yet unyielding—a protective aura as impenetrable as steel.

The Golden Immortal Tiger Guard, a legendary defensive technique of the Zhu lineage.

“I am interested in both forging political ties with Jeong Seomye and experiencing firsthand the martial arts he has created.”

The Red Phoenix King’s voice grew softer.

“I know what you fear. You worry about the consequences ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) should any harm befall us. But I will not use my status to pressure your superior. The world is in chaos—such tactics are meaningless now. Your concerns are unwarranted.”

His words struck true.

It was precisely because of this risk that Cheongmyeong had blocked the Red Phoenix King’s approach yet refrained from striking in full force.

Unlike Zhu Yeon-jeong of the Ipwang Ma Clan, whom the Warrior of Unrivaled Prowess had once crippled, this opponent was far from ordinary.

A ruler granted dominion over a territory by the emperor himself.

Even a Violet Warden could not act freely in the heart of Beijing’s political sphere.

A reckless move could bring disaster upon Jeong Yeon-shin.

Far better for Cheongmyeong to endure a beating than to risk such consequences.

Even Ak Su-rim, a seasoned warrior of the old martial world, remained cautious.

Cheongmyeong tightened his grip on his sword.

At that moment, the Red Phoenix King’s lips curled faintly.

The golden radiance of his protective aura now extended to his face.

“If you refuse to step aside, you must prepare to die. Jeong Seomye may be young, but surely he understands the distinction between public and private matters.”

It was an inevitable ordeal for the warriors of Ipwang Fortress.

Even if their opponent openly spoke of death, such was the weight of status.

They were neither fully recognized martial artists nor formally appointed officials—outcasts caught between two worlds.

Sunlight scattered across the air, forming an invisible wall—a stark, transparent hue.

For a moment, the very sky seemed to distort.

A crimson figure descended from above, like divine punishment from the heavens.

No sound preceded its arrival.

For an instant, it seemed as if the sunset itself had taken human form.

Then, the figure crashed into the Red Phoenix King’s chest, driving him into the ground.

The golden barrier of the Golden Immortal Tiger Guard shattered into pieces.

A gale erupted, scattering fragments of golden energy like dust, while a translucent shockwave surged outward, shaking the very earth.

The Red Phoenix King, embedded into the ground, spat out blood.

Shock froze the entire gathering.

The one who had intervened—a young man, draped in Violet robes.

The king’s gaze flickered with disbelief.

“How do you... intend to answer for this...?”

His breath hitched between words.

This was not an incident to be taken lightly.

Even the traders from the Gwanheo Trading Association averted their eyes in alarm.

The figure responded.

“Are you saying... you didn’t consider the consequences?”

“You spoke of the death of an Ipwang Fortress warrior as if it were a trivial matter. Such words are reserved for the Emperor alone—the authority over life and death.”

“How utterly... theoretical....”

The Red Phoenix King was, without question, an extraordinary figure. Even after suffering a devastating blow, he managed to scoff.

“The late Emperor... chose me. A king entrusted with a portion of Guangdong. You and I... are of different bloodlines. A mere subordinate like you... how dare you....”

Bathed in golden shards of shattered defensive energy, the figure murmured dryly.

“That there is only one Zhu in this world?”