Chapter 528: Chapter 528

Amidst the breathtaking mountain range.

The refined structure of internal energy, sculpted by the Yin Arts, gathered within my palm. The ripple of Radiant Force Technique surged hotly across my skin. If it traveled from hilt to blade, it would manifest as a Sword Clan technique.

—Would you not come closer?

A willful thought, sent toward the Sect Leader of Wudang.

No error in the transmission.

The incantation, refined through my close association with the Crown Prince, had matured considerably.

And ever since mastering the Tri-Harmony Essence Refinement, even the slightest provocation no longer reached my Crown Acupoint—unless I pushed myself beyond reason. The only exception had been the Grand War of Ipwang Fortress.

[Is that truly appropriate?]

The voice of the former Grand Elder struck my mind. As if by coincidence, a faint breeze brushed past my temple. A cool stream of wind threaded itself behind my ear.

I suddenly released the strength in my grip.

The tight force that had coiled in my palm unraveled all at once.

The ground naturally cracked apart in a jagged mess, raising pale clouds of dust. My sleeve fluttered loudly in the aftershock.

‘No... This isn’t right.’

The Sword Clan’s art damages weapons. But Yeorae is both Ryoryeo and Yehwa.

By its nature, it’s a technique of refinement through another’s weapon. Unless you carry spare armaments, it’s meant to be used by seizing your enemy’s sword in battle and making it your own.

I tilted my head slightly.

The people who had accompanied me to Mount Wudang came into view—Ju Se-hwa, Master Jade Leaf, and Master Jade Eyes. Each had taken a step back, a gentle breeze of internal energy cloaking them.

Ju Se-hwa was watching me cautiously.

The translucent veil over her lower face fluttered gently with her breath. She had endured the aura of the Sword Clan’s technique up close using internal breathing alone.

I couldn’t tell what cultivation method she had used. It didn’t seem like Yang’s Mind Technique. Could it be the famed Heavenly Yang’s Saving Yin Qi?

“As a guest we’ve invited, I must apologize for what happened.”

She spoke softly. I shook my head lightly and replied.

“Is there a blade I could break? Just one is enough. Doesn’t even need to be a sword.”

It reminded me of the look So-bin gave me sometimes after Mount Hua’s disaster—like she was on the verge of understanding something, her face laced with unease.

That same look now flickered in Ju Se-hwa’s eyes, a first from her.

“There’s disagreement within the sect about accepting you into Wudang... Once again, I sincerely apologize. I ask for your understanding.”

I asked briefly, and her lips showed slightly beneath the veil.

She had nodded slightly. In that instant, her faint breath pressed against my senses with clarity. It was a Daoist energy—empty, yet familiar.

Why does it feel so familiar?

Her voice continued in a subdued tone.

“No one in our sect is concerned about their own pride. But it’s rare for someone to value the scars of their beloved more than their own shame. This is no different. The Sect Leader has fallen into a deepened Heart Demon. Some are reluctant to reveal such matters to outsiders. Many also question whether it’s proper for someone of your status to meet with the Sect Leader while he’s in such a state. Of course, locating him remains the top priority.”

She bent at the waist ever so slightly and brought her hands together in apology once more.

She was sorry for inviting me as a guest when the sect itself could not agree on the matter.

I traced my thumb along the knot in my hand. The cloth was woven from Celestial Silkworm thread—soft to the touch. I could even sense the warmth of Master Jade Eyes lingering within.

Naturally, I thought of my master.

If something were to happen to the Fortress Lord, I too would do whatever it took to resolve it.

I wouldn’t bother with formality or protocol. I would call upon every last connection I had to make it right.

I nodded and shifted my thoughts.

Ju Se-hwa wasn’t like So-bin. When I clashed with her elders, she had worried about the damage that might befall Mount Wudang itself.

I could sense the footsteps of Master Sambong Zhenren imprinted deep into these blue mountains.

Ju Se-hwa had likely honed her Tai Chi with these valley waters, carved her Cotton Palm into the peculiar rock formations scattered across the land, alongside the Immortals who raised her since childhood.

‘Before she was royalty...’

She was a true disciple of Wudang.

Of course, it goes without saying, but Master Sambong Zhenren had taught his juniors just as well as my own teacher. Without him, someone like Ju Se-hwa wouldn’t exist.

Of course, she could not be compared to So-bin, who would grow to be as powerful as the former Grand Elder. Ma Gwang-ik, the Crimson Spiral Lord, is the only such person in the world.

‘He’ll be alright... won’t he?’

I pushed aside the concern for my precious peer and the seniors of Ma Gwang-ik. Then turned my gaze up the path.

A silhouette appeared—the one who had scolded Ju Se-hwa from a great distance earlier.

A faint burst of wind rippled the air.

Though descending a steep path quickly, he raised no dust.

He radiated an extraordinary sense of balance.

I felt he could endure even an immense crushing force. It didn’t compare to that time Senior Ak came wobbling over with three plates of five-spice mountain herbs.

[Wudang... their depth is incredible. They ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) must have allocated more than half their power to this side.]

A smooth baritone echoed in my mind.

As always, the former Grand Elder stepped confidently behind me. At the same time, the descending figure reached the edge of the path. I felt it immediately—this man’s cultivation was extremely advanced.

“Unhyeon! Your words are misleading!”

After nodding respectfully to me, the middle-aged Daoist rebuked Ju Se-hwa with a booming voice.

“You say we hesitate to reveal our scars? Nonsense!”

The force of his presence was overwhelming.

When one thinks of Wudang, images of flowing rivers and endlessly circling patterns come to mind.

But this Daoist’s nature resembled a blazing ring of fire.

His sharp eyes and resolute mouth—he reminded me of my childhood tutor. That fearsome teacher.

—The Patriarch instructed me to teach you with severity. Memorize only what I assign, and do not touch other texts. You will never succeed the Jeong Household, even if the heavens collapse.

—Should you act out of turn and disgrace the great prince, you will face both my rod and the Patriarch’s fist.

I hadn’t even dared to show him the Jeong Family’s internal arts.

Now, they say he runs a massive academy in Shanxi, teaching countless disciples. He left just a few years before the Jeong Household was wiped out. Truly, he was born under a lucky star.

Perhaps one day I’ll meet Hero Wei Ji or my niece Hye-a again.

Zhongnan Sect is of a deeply rooted Daoist tradition. In rebuilding their school, they must be traveling far and wide for children literate in the Classics.

“Then isn’t it because of shame?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

And yet, shockingly, Ju Se-hwa did not bow her head. As if befitting royalty, her spine remained straight. Her composure was extraordinary.

‘I could never reason with someone like that.’

The Daoist towered over her, a man with a face hardened by conviction. Even a careful excuse would likely be returned as a strike.

I knew the type—those imprisoned in their own stubbornness. Ju Se-hwa had misstepped.

And the rebuke came back even fiercer.

“Then what else is it but burdening an outsider? He is already the head of those fighting across the land for the world’s sake! Why would you involve someone of his standing in our sect’s private affairs?”

He was someone deeply versed in Daoist scriptures.

“That is Senior Jade Cliff. The leader of those who’ve mastered the Seven Star Sword Formation... and to Sehwa—meaning to me, Unhyeon—he is my grandmaster. A direct disciple of the previous Head Master of Wudang, and the next in line to become Head Master himself.”

Another Daoist standing nearby whispered that to me.

It was Master Jade Leaf, whose smiling face I had grown somewhat familiar with during our journey from Yangyang to here. But we weren’t close enough to be whispering.

I took a step to the side.

“The next Head of Wudang...?”

It was finally sinking in that I had stepped foot into Wudang, the Celestial Mountain. There wasn’t a single martial artist unfamiliar with the moniker of the man scolding Ju Se-hwa before our eyes.

That name had been given by the elite martial artists of the royal court—proud figures, not easily impressed. It was also the name known for saving countless civilians from captivity in the northern martial world.

Tales of him unleashing the Grand Tai Chi Sword amidst the beastly Yao forces had spread far and wide among enthusiasts. He was someone I had admired since I was a child, along with the Four Vajras of Shaolin.

“This sect has long stood without a Head Master! Have you no shame? If you have a tongue, then keep flapping it!”

The ground shook. For a moment, my vision wavered. It felt like the path beneath us rippled like the spine of a serpent.

It wasn’t Master Jade Cliff’s internal energy that caused it. The natural energy nearby was reacting to his words. Which meant... he was manifesting power beyond the reserves stored within his body.

Master Jade Leaf’s ever-smiling face dimmed.

“...Peach Garden Force.”

He muttered it quietly.

I’d heard of it before. A power one could access through the highest form of Daoist enlightenment—what the orthodox sects referred to as the “True Path.”

If the pinnacle of Daoist cultivation was the Three Purities Force, then Peach Garden Force was said to be the closest practical realm martial Daoists could hope to attain.

And even that Peach Garden Force was considered supreme.

It suited someone like him—a man worthy of succeeding as Head Master of Wudang, a literary sage, a warrior. A fitting bearer of the "Jade" title, given to disciples of the sect master. One of Wudang’s greatest current powers.

Just then, as if misjudging the timing of his approach, Master Jade Leaf leaned in again and murmured awkwardly:

“...He seems deeply angered.”

That much was obvious.

The tremors shaking the ground were only growing stronger. And Ju Se-hwa, who had been defiantly looking up at Master Jade Cliff, was now slowly lowering her head.

Just like when I’d been spanked on my tenth birthday.

“The moment the path to the inner sanctum was opened to outsiders, even that demonic being—who had long sought to lure out the Head Master with wicked words—entered this place! The strength that had remained within the inner sanctum has scattered entirely!”

“...I have no excuse.”

A world unto itself. Celestials living among mortals, bearing the duty of guarding against the demonic and the heretical, upholding the teachings of Grandmaster Sambong. In these graceful mountain ridges, even the violet robes of Ipwang Fortress were seen as foreign.

They weren’t hostile, but they didn’t go out of their way to acknowledge me, either.

It was suffocating. This wasn’t the sight I came to Wudang Mountain for.

Just then, the grand elder folded her arms.

The fabric at her elbow creased into deep violet folds. Even the celestials of Wudang hesitated to address her directly. Her status and presence were that immense.

[Whether it's a Pure Daoist Sect or the Greatest Sword Sect of the Ages, this is still a place where people live. The one who leads such a sect carries immense weight. Do you understand the gravity of your title?]

I replied quietly, casting an apologetic glance toward the Wudang party.

The biting words of the grand elder startled not only Master Jade Leaf but even Master Jade Veil, who had remained silent until now.

Unlike the other Daoists, Master Jade Veil didn’t wear her hair in a topknot. She was said to be a master of hidden techniques.

“What do you intend to do?”

She asked in a hoarse voice.

She was the youngest among the disciples bearing the Jade name, only about ten years older than Ju Se-hwa, but her appearance was wild—like a hermit from some remote mountain. Her hair unkempt, her gaze sharp and cloudy.

A constantly radiant-eyed Jade Veil.

And Jade Cliff, who had survived the North and stood poised to become the next Head Master.

With every exchange, I could feel how different they were from me. From Yangyang until now—and even in this moment.

If I had my feet firmly on the ground like Ma Se-in of the Demon Lords, these people were clouds floating in Wudang’s skies. They found meaning only in chivalry and their sect’s duties. Every word and action showed it.

They were celestials from another realm.

To reach the current Wudang Head Master, I needed their cooperation—but I couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

More than anything, it bothered me that I was still carrying the box holding Jade Sword’s severed head.

These celestials, who studied the principle of “non-action and harmony with nature,” might place little importance on a deceased body.

But I didn’t think that was right.

It was meddling in another sect’s business, but I stepped forward carefully. Toward the next Head Master of Wudang, who was now shrouding Ju Se-hwa in pale, mist-like inner energy.

His aura was already approaching that of a peerless master. If that thick fog of internal energy were used in a sword form like Void Moon Dance, then perhaps the Southern Pillar of Wudang would soon welcome its new Head Master.

Master Jade Leaf’s eyes widened slightly.

“Sir Jeong, Jade Cliff’s Peach Garden Force is nothing like the gentle internal energy Wudang is known for. It's intensely oppressive... no matter how you act, this will look like a clash between Wudang and Ipwang Fortress...”

Another step forward.

It was a light step—using Hwanik Step—but something unfamiliar followed. A pure, airy wind brushed past and faded.

Even before I could question it, the grand elder let out a soft gasp of intrigue behind me.

The storm-like inner energy fog encasing Ju Se-hwa vanished in an instant. Dissipated completely, as if it had never existed.

At the same time—above us.

A far greater presence.

The clouds that had been casting a quiet shadow over the wide mountain slope gave off a thunderous roar, then scattered like feathers.

As if a single step had triggered a vast sword strike—just like the Heavenly Demon’s Dominating Step, said to be wielded by So Cheonmujuk.

Silence fell over the mountain foothills.

And then—suddenly—from a distant peak, an overwhelmingly fierce gaze bore down on us.

A gaze so powerful it could nullify even defensive inner energy. Even the callused skin I’d built up alongside the Tang siblings felt like it might be flayed off.

It was the Wudang Head Master—Hyun Gong Zhenin.