Chapter 493: Chapter 493

Two men sat on a massive stone slab, drinking.

The surrounding landscape was blanketed in pure white snow, making their silhouettes stand out. Both were massive men, their bodies honed to the extreme.

One of them was repeatedly emptying and refilling his cup without hesitation, while the other balanced his cup on the handle of an enormous axe, gazing at the surface of the liquor in quiet contemplation.

Even in the pitch-black night, there was light. Though the full moon that had shone the previous night was absent, the air still felt oddly clamorous.

It was because of these two men. They had no need for moonlight.

"The rare Du Kang wine is getting cold. I went through quite a bit of trouble to get it."

The man holding the axe horizontally, the chief of Gunma Nokrim, spoke in a voice that was composed and subdued, much like a scholar’s. It was in stark contrast to his title, Great White Axe King, which suggested a far more aggressive nature.

Despite his massive frame, he looked refined—his white fur coat draped over him, his hair neatly swept back, and his eyes calm and unwavering.

"It took quite some time, indeed."

The man who had been drinking incessantly curled his lips. He had a broad yellow robe tied around his waist, leaving his upper body exposed.

Even as he hunched forward, his abdomen was lined with sharply defined muscles, marred by numerous scars, large and small. Steam continuously rose from his body, hissing like a forge’s bellows.

The chief of Gunma Nokrim cast a sidelong glance at him before speaking slowly.

"The Eastern Arts... is that the pinnacle of martial prowess?"

"The Twin Purples of Iphwang Fortress were a great help. They provided much inspiration."

"I just called it the pinnacle of all martial arts, yet you don’t deny it."

"There’s no point in twisting words. If I believe I am the best in the world, then that is enough, isn’t it?"

"I saw you use it up close... yes, I suppose calling it the greatest is not unwarranted."

The chief’s tone was peculiar, as though he both acknowledged and questioned the man sitting across from him.

But Heol Ryeon Pungwol, the leader of Mu-ryong Association, merely laughed heartily, as if he had no cares in the world. His needle-thin eyes curved slightly with amusement.

"This makes me excited. If only your spot was taken by the Martial God Who Walks with the Moon, or that monster from the north..."

"Would you be able to handle them?"

"You bastard, you’re a martial artist, the same as me. Everyone knows that the Great White Axe King's Moonlight Technique is meant to be used against those two. At least, any true master worth their salt does."

“...Let’s get to the point. Yeoryeongju has sent a message."

"Are you bookworms conspiring behind my back? I didn’t receive one."

"Well, you don’t have a home, do you?"

"I have the Mu-ryong Association."

"But lately, the Mu-ryong Association has been little more than a band of wandering outlaws, haven’t they? You plotted against the Sword Lord, after all. It’s only natural that you’ve been cast out.

"Regardless, according to Yeoryeongju's message, if Mu-ryong Association agrees to an alliance, seven of the Thirteen Heavens will form a pact."

"Among them are Blood Flame Cult and Dreaming Moon, which means we already have more than half. Blood Flame Cult has somehow remained standing despite being shattered into pieces. Recently, Ilsado gathered the scattered branches across the world and established a new headquarters, taking the cult leader’s seat. He pushed the Greatest Prodigy of Blood Flame Cult into exile as a traitor.

"As for Dreaming Moon, they are one of the most inscrutable sects in the world, yet for some reason, Yeoryeongju has no doubt about their cooperation."

The Gunma Nokrim chief continued, his gaze still fixed on the liquor in his cup.

"Meanwhile, Mansang Suroche has crushed the Long River Navy and the Sword Lord’s Light Sword Unit, effectively carving a path straight through the central lands. Our own Gunma Nokrim has recently absorbed some of the horseback martial arts of the northern Yojok, further refining our combat techniques. Add to that Yeoryeongju and Paegyeom Sect... If you also agree to the alliance, the tide will..."

"Become... the fate of the world?"

"This is not something an individual can stop. Not when only one of the Twin Purples of Iphwang Fortress is left standing. It seems the Dragon Lord is too busy dealing with monsters from beyond. A tragic yet convenient distraction."

Suddenly, the cup balanced on the axe’s handle floated into the air by itself. The liquor within vanished without a trace.

For a moment, Heol Ryeon Pungwol's eyes gleamed with curiosity, but the Gunma Nokrim chief’s expression remained impassive as he continued speaking.

"Yeoryeongju is envisioning a future where we stand as equals with the Zhou Imperial Clan and reap enormous benefits. Since we have already formed an alliance behind the scenes, half the battle is won."

"What about Ming Cult? I heard that the Little Heavenly Demon has built an impressive force. Even that brat from the Yelu Clan is said to be the strongest martial artist in Tibet."

"Unfortunately, every envoy Yeoryeongju has sent their way has ended up dead. Either struck by lightning from a clear sky or buried under an avalanche that appeared out of nowhere. The weather there is... capricious."

"That’s still quite ordinary. The fact that a group like ours, full of selfish rogues, is even attempting to unite is what’s truly ridiculous."

"For now, it is necessary. If we wish to survive the famine and chaos unscathed and seize control of the world’s tides.

"Gold Serpent Gate, Ten War Pavilion, Swift Demon Army, and Tai Mo Mountain Fortress... Every sect and force that the New Purple of Iphwang Fortress has crossed paths with has crumbled. The same goes for many of the great noble houses of the martial world. Truly, an unrelenting calamity."

"Well... he didn’t seem like the gentle type. His talent is still unbelievable. But in the end, he is just one man. Even if you all swallow your pride and unite, you’d have six Lords of the Thirteen Heavens to confront him."

"He has vanished without a trace. But we can’t afford to wait around for him to reappear. Instead of searching for him, we should set our sights on Yangyang."

A calm yet chilling statement.

For the first time, Heol Ryeon Pungwol’s expression shifted. The Gunma Nokrim chief had spoken the ultimate taboo of the martial world.

Yangyang, the Bright Imperial City.

It was an absolute forbidden zone for all warriors, a place where open discussions of war and sect conflicts were outlawed.

Because it was the location of the Iphwang Fortress itself.

The towering Gunma Nokrim chief stood up, his wine cup floating alongside him before disintegrating into fine powder.

He exhaled lightly, and the jade-colored dust swirled, settling over the heads of four figures who had been sitting silently throughout the conversation.

A hunched old woman with muscular arms, a middle-aged man holding a shattered spear, a long-eared youth, and a bandaged man whose scorched body peeked through his tattered wrappings.

None of them had moved. Whether sitting cross-legged or kneeling, their heads remained respectfully bowed.

"It’s a shame the Un Clan’s Patriarch isn’t here, but at least a reputable elder was captured. Patriarch Ak, your presence here completes the gathering."

The Chief of Gunma Nokrim stepped forward, his footfalls unnaturally quiet for a man of his build.

He concentrated the weight of his body onto a single point—Body-Rooted Force, the technique of ultimate control.

As he moved forward at a slow, deliberate pace, the four prisoners remained motionless. Their Vital Points and Pressure Points had been sealed, rendering them incapable of resistance.

"I must ask for forgiveness from Master Yu, the So-yeon Division Leader. The way of Body-Rooted Force is too elusive, so I had no choice but to break your legs the moment I reached you. You are, after all, the fastest black-clad warrior of the Divine Sword Corps. Your footwork was truly extraordinary."

The Chief’s voice was calm and respectful.

The young man with long ears glared up at him with wide, seething eyes.

"And then, there’s Master Myung-ryu... I regret to inform you that even the Hao Moon Lord did not know your name. Nevertheless, your current condition is truly unfortunate. I had no time to intervene before Mu-ryong Association’s Leader Hyeol Ryeon Pungwol acted so decisively. But I understand why—your Hidden Concealment Arts were as dangerous as Patriarch Ak’s Ultimate Spear Arts. If I had let you slip behind me, my dear mother would have been heartbroken. She’s still very much alive, you see. A resilient woman, yet to be laid to rest."

His words flowed smoothly, like a scholar delivering a lecture. Even with his massive axe resting on his shoulder, his tone was composed.

The bandaged monstrosity remained silent. The Chief didn’t linger, merely turning with a soft rustle, continuing his slow circuit around the four captives.

As he observed this, Hyeol Ryeon Pungwol finally spoke.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"You’ve plucked out the two eyes of Iphwang Fortress. A major feat for the start of your counterattack."

"Do you truly believe that?"

The Chief’s quiet response made Pungwol’s brow furrow.

"Iphwang Fortress is a gathering of monsters. Their combined strength is the greatest under the heavens, but their eyes number in the hundreds, if not thousands. Every government office in the land is their covert ally. Even the lowliest magistrate of a remote village could be one of their spies."

The Chief’s measured steps suddenly grew heavier as he walked past the captured Divine Sword Corps officer, Yu Jung-myeong.

"Because of this, Iphwang Fortress has always had the power to predict even the most insignificant of events, sending warriors at the perfect time. That is why we must match their intelligence network."

"Spies? Even in a famine, with corrupt officials running rampant? Look at these captives—if their information network was so great, why are they in this state?"

"You must never underestimate Iphwang Fortress. Their intelligence network spans the entire world, and their Purple-Ranked warriors could strike at any moment. They have every right to be arrogant. After all, even Fate itself seems to favor them in the form of Seom-ye."

"We must strike swiftly and decisively."

It was the moment the Chief passed by Yu Jung-myeong’s head.

Suddenly, he moved like a ghost. His axe blurred, slamming downward with a sound like an earthquake.

Blood and bone exploded, fragments scattering in all directions.

It landed right next to the So-yeon Division Leader.

Patriarch Ak, even with his head severed, remained kneeling on one knee. His body, incredibly, still looked more solid than the broken spear lying at his feet.

The Chief calmly slung his axe back over his shoulder, nodding slightly.

"A message was sent to Ak No-hyeop, the Commander of Iphwang's Divine Spear Battalion, asking him to assume the position of Patriarch. That simply cannot happen. If the Ak Clan’s Secret Spear Art falls into his hands, and he manages to develop Moonlight Martial Arts, it will be a disaster. He took the Clan Head's position without even mastering the final techniques of Ak Clan’s Spear Arts, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) and yet they dared to send him such a letter?"

The Chief resumed his slow, deliberate pace.

"Let’s take Yangyang together. The time is now. No matter how I look at it, Gwangya Ilmyeol is too far from the main fortress. And the Dragon Lord... well, we know he won’t interfere."

"One question. Are you planning to kill the other three as well? This sight isn’t particularly pleasant."

"I'm still considering it. Oh, by the way, thanks to Yeoryeongju and the Hao Moon Lord, I’ve learned a great deal about that young man, Seom-ye. Does he know how many young girls secretly harbored feelings for him when he was a child? If only he had a bit of his father’s cunning, he could have ruled the streets like a king. Instead, he was just dragged around by others, completely at their mercy... but I suppose it was inevitable. From birth, he was bound to inherit the nature of Iphwang Fortress. Truly fascinating."

The sound of footsteps pressing into snow thickened once more.

Inside the Celestial Tree

Two days had passed since Jeong Yeon-shin arrived in Dongyeok Village.

It was a place where enormous foliage swayed like a folding fan. He had never seen land so verdant. Even though the village was far from the central city, the aura of nature here was distinctly different, even in the outskirts.

For the first time, he inhaled air this pure.

The brick house he was given by Chi Cheon-gung Baek was tidy and spacious, even featuring a guest room suitable for an outsider like himself.

Only the villagers seemed peculiar.

Though Chi Cheon-gung Baek had likely silenced them, Jeong Yeon-shin still noticed wary gazes directed at his residence from time to time. Occasionally, he even felt as though the walls themselves had eyes.

Only one person approached him with familiarity.

A young boy had introduced himself with a whistle.

Despite his youthful appearance—his face lacking the usual baby fat—he was remarkably handsome. He claimed that the wind sound he produced with his lips was his real name.

He also asked Jeong Yeon-shin to give him an alias to use when he ventured outside the Celestial Tree.

— "Is my master's name also an alias? She uses the surname 'Wi'."

— "Of course. Everyone from here does. Only those born and raised outside the Celestial Tree use their real names in writing."

— "But still, you're really kind for an outsider. Most of the ones I've heard about were completely insane. That Yong guy from the Imperial Phoenix City fought North Abyss Fist Lord for ten thousand moves, putting the whole village to sleep. And some 'Ma-something' guy got turned away at the entrance and punched his way into the city with his bare fists."

— "You haven't heard much about proper adults, have you?"

— "That has nothing to do with me. More importantly...."

— "Ah, right! The way you say her name is..."

That day, Jeong Yeon-shin heard a single beautiful whistle.

And in return, he gifted the boy a name—Jong-yeon, meaning "the first meeting of fate."

The Celestial Tree’s Jong-yeon was overjoyed. So much so that he even ventured into the home of Chi Cheon-gung Baek, a place most avoided, to bring Jeong Yeon-shin pillows, blankets, and other valuable belongings.

Thanks to that, his days were peaceful.

Until he overheard Chi Cheon-gung Baek speak of the Imperial Phoenix Lord.

She had casually sneered at the fact that the Imperial Phoenix Lord had taken a direct disciple from the outside. And for the first time in two days, Jeong Yeon-shin did not restrain the surge of internal energy that leaped forth from him.

After all, in the martial world, there was nothing more sacred than the bond between master and disciple.

And so, another day passed.

Under the relentless gusts of wind that howled like tangled threads, Jeong Yeon-shin sat in a completely devastated clearing.

He leaned against what remained of a brick wall—the only structure left standing.

The once modest yet orderly residence had vanished entirely.

It had been three days since he entered the Celestial Tree.

He slowly lifted his eyelids.

Chi Cheon-gung Baek approached. It was their first meeting since they had exchanged blows.

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke leisurely.

"Why do you look like that?"

Her normally indifferent face was now gaunt. She looked nothing like she had during their battle yesterday.

Even after firing arrows like a meteor shower, her expression had remained unchanged.

Even when she was trapped inside the sword path of Yeorei, she had merely raised an eyebrow.

But now, she looked like a starved wraith, as if something had drained an immense amount of her internal energy.

"There are four chief enforcers in the Celestial Tree. You remember hearing that the other day?"

She gazed down at Jeong Yeon-shin and spoke in a low tone.

"They enforce the laws of the city. Though they have different ranks, their martial prowess is equal. You outsiders would call them 'supreme masters.'"

"They're coming this way."

Jeong Yeon-shin responded with an unreadable expression.

Indeed, he could feel the presence of immensely powerful energy waves approaching.

The Sword Guardian. The North Abyss Fist Lord. Chi Cheon-gung Baek. The Golden Thunderclap.

These were the four enforcers who governed the north, south, east, and west of the Celestial Tree.

At this moment, the ripples of their energy were as serene as those of the grand sect masters of the Nine Schools, yet their density was just as profound.

Just like their names suggested, they moved like impending natural disasters.

Even their movement caused deep reverberations. It was fitting for the most important land in the world.

They were, without question, supreme masters.

A sharp glint flickered in Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes, like the edge of Yeorei’s sword path.

"If this had been before Dongyeok was destroyed, maybe you could have reasoned with them. But now, they won’t listen. You need to leave and wait for your master to arrive. Don't be reckless."

Chi Cheon-gung Baek moved the moment he rose to his feet.

Likewise, Jeong Yeon-shin did not stop walking.

With barely restrained fury, he strode directly toward Chi Cheon-gung Baek, whose towering frame loomed before him like a fortress.

His footsteps grew heavier.

Thick heatwaves erupted between them, surging fiercely.

It was the clash of supreme masters' internal energy fields. Their ever-present domains of power were grinding against each other, neither yielding.

Jeong Yeon-shin continued walking, unflinching, toward Chi Cheon-gung Baek—who had already drawn her bow.

They brushed past each other.

For a brief moment, the sashes around their waists grazed against each other.

The distance between them vanished completely.

It could be called a duel of pride between martial artists.

For a brief instant, Jeong Yeon-shin’s chest pressed against Chi Cheon-gung Baek’s shoulder.

He whispered through clenched teeth.

"What exactly are you doing here?"

A burst of overwhelming energy erupted from Jeong Yeon-shin's body.

The radiant glow of the Body-Law Bright Wheel Force enveloped Chi Cheon-gung Baek like transparent sunlight.

For the first time, her usually indifferent expression wavered.

Her pale cheeks regained their natural color.

"You insolent wretch—"

Chi Cheon-gung Baek’s words cut off.

Because, in an instant, her body had fully recovered.