Chapter 534: Chapter 534

The soft rustle of crushed grass echoed faintly.

A wild-haired old man wandered the blue foothills of the mountain. Once hailed as a transcendent immortal, now called Hyun Gong by Wudang Mountain—he was the Sect Leader of Wudang.

And yet, in this moment, he roamed aimlessly across the unmarked terrain, and every time he drew near, the branches and brush seemed to bend themselves away from his path.

The man he was today was no longer a Wudang Taoist.

He had long since set aside the Dao of wu wei ziran—effortless naturalness.

He was simply an absolute being, wielding the qi of nature like a heavenly deity. And even Hyun Gong himself vaguely realized he was still shackled by human emotion.

And so, like a lunatic beggar, he rambled incoherently, wandering the vast slopes of Wudang Mountain alone.

“Disciple... Hyun Ryeo, Hyun Ryeo... Yes, damn it, Jade Sword, why didn’t you listen to the last of the Sword of Wisdom mantra? I told you I’d change the sect’s rules if I had to. You should’ve listened. What’s so important about that hollow dignity of the Sect Leader that you felt it needed protecting...?”

A disciple who had fled to the far skies to escape a troublesome elder brother.

“Did your master ever teach you that? That your roots mattered more than yourself...? Sure, the harsh northern rivers must have had another Dream Demon Physique lying in wait. But what does that matter now? You were already one of Wudang’s pine needles.”

A disciple still alive somewhere on the mountain, yet never to return to the past.

Hyun Gong needed to find the two of them—Jade Sword and the Mad Dream Demon.

No—more precisely, he needed to find the hearts that could still contain who they had become today.

But nowhere on Mount Wudang could he find the proper vessel of heart and will—a mind like a Daoist artifact.

And so he wandered naturally, stumbling through directionless paths, flaring up and fading away like sparks.

Thus, he was called possessed by fire.

Suddenly, he stomped upon the earth.

At the same time, still with hands clasped behind his back like a Taoist immortal, he began to ascend into the sky—not leisurely, but not rushed either.

The old swordsman spent a stretch of time drifting among the long, white clouds.

Then, at a certain height, he stopped. Stepping down mid-air as though on invisible stairs, until at last—

A faint, dome-shaped barrier shimmered into view beneath his feet, like a mirage.

Hyun Gong placed his foot precisely atop the summit of that shimmering qi curtain. The frayed sleeves of his worn robe flapped behind him like wings.

It was Wudang’s absolute formation—The Boundless Pain-Cleaving Array.

An ancient seal that [N O V E L I G H T] blocked all waves of internal energy. It had been created long ago by one of Sambong Zhenren’s disciples.

The formation was originally devised after a tragic incident in Deok An Province, where a farmer was turned into a fool after accidentally coming into contact with a stray wave of martial qi from a nearby sect battle.

Now, it was one of the rarest hidden arrays in the world.

And yet, the Daoist known as the Greatest Master of the Age could measure even the subtle energy flow within the array as easily as breathing.

He didn’t even consider the so-called “impenetrable fortress” strength of the barrier.

He simply passed through it.

No technique of unraveling. He merely merged into it—became part of the formation as if it were natural.

It took less than a breath for him to descend into the dome’s interior.

The Wudang masters encircling the straw-hatted swordsman looked up in unison. They’d been locked in this tense standoff for quite some time, and yet their reaction was instant.

A brief silence rippled through the group of more than a hundred.

But only briefly. The flames of possession Hyun Gong carried within him surged like wildfire—instantly throwing the entire chamber into chaos.

Even to the highest masters of a grand sect, the appearance of Hyun Gong, the transcendent, was enough to unnerve them.

Even if they were his own disciples.

“W-What...? The Sect Leader?!”

“How could the Sect Leader be here...?!”

“It’s entirely possible. Formation! Disciples, do not falter—form the defensive formation!”

Waves of internal energy began to roll in every direction.

At the center of the encirclement stood a one-armed swordsman dressed in the appearance of the Heavenly Pole Sect Leader. He slowly lifted the brim of his straw hat.

His movement was slow and deliberate, even amidst the building tension.

That single motion alone sent a ferocious sword wind surging through all thirty-six surrounding points. The sheer force of his presence roared like a storm.

This was precisely why Wudang’s masters had been hesitant to strike all this time.

With many of Wudang’s top elders having already “crossed the gate,” the loss of any more disciples would surely lead to the deaths of even more innocent civilians.

“I waited all night, you know.”

The straw-hatted middle-aged man spoke nonchalantly.

“First the Sect Leader, then that Xianye fella too—everyone’s off playing at ghost-step these days. Hard to get a read on anyone’s presence.”

“...You’re well-informed on outside rumors.”

Hyun Gong’s voice dropped as he gazed down at the man. The swordsman smiled.

“Unlike the Sect Leader, I live with the whole world as my blanket. My stride’s wide—and so is my nosiness. I couldn’t just walk past Wudang Mountain, you see.”

“About Master Jade Sword—how’s his head holding up? I was a bit caught up during the Hangzhou affair. Before I head north, I thought I’d drop in and pay respects. Offer my sincerest condolences...”

Hyun Gong interrupted.

The atmosphere churned, darkening like thunderclouds. Every word from the straw-hatted man was striking directly at Hyun Gong’s inner fire.

It had only been a few exchanges.

But the words of a demon were always laced with naked, vicious intent.

“You’re poor at imitation, disciple.”

Hyun Gong’s voice grew heavy.

“Is the plan to goad me into fury, so I strike you down—only to realize too late that you are my disciple? Is that the trap you’ve laid to sink the Sect Leader of Wudang? How pitiful. Is that the extent of the Northern forces’ cunning?”

“...How did you know?”

The man under the straw hat tilted his head, his tone oddly playful.

“Wasn’t my disguise and transformation perfect? Even noble comrades from Hangzhou helped me recover that ridiculous empty-fist technique. I even studied the behavior of the so-called Outlaw Sword for quite some time...”

As he spoke, his face began to melt—like water.

In an instant, the middle-aged features morphed into a pale, youthful man. His skin whitened like porcelain, eerily aristocratic like the nobles of the Bloodflame Cult.

Then, along his finely sculpted face, a sly and wicked aura began to creep.

With a sickening crack, the right sleeve of his thick leather robe burst open—

Revealing an arm that hadn’t existed a moment ago.

A faint puff of white mist escaped the young man's lips.

It was the recoil from abruptly dispelling his transformation technique.

The joint disciple of Wudang’s Sect Leader and Xin Tu.

“How unfortunate,” he muttered casually, shaking his head.

A low murmur spread from all directions.

The Wudang masters, who had been poised within the vast sword formation, each halted their steps.

“You... You’re the one...!”

“How dare you pose as the Heavenly Pole Sect Leader in our sect?!”

“...Original Sight Formation.”

Yet the Mad Dream Demon didn’t spare them a glance.

His very presence radiated an aura—a confidence that he could flee whenever he wished.

Instead, he simply gazed up at Hyun Gong and asked once more,

“I asked how you saw through it. I was nearly indistinguishable from the true Heavenly Pole Sect Leader... Everything but wu wei.”

“A swordsman who seeks to become lofty does not mock the dead,” Hyun Gong replied evenly.

“Remember that. That rogue swordsman would be no different—no matter his conduct before laying down his blade.”

The answer from one of the Five Supreme Swords of the world was calm.

But the atmosphere in the chamber was not.

It trembled with tension, like something might explode at any moment—

A clear precursor to a deeper possession.

The Mad Dream Demon shouted gleefully.

“Too much stimulation for an old man on the brink of madness! How could you possibly endure that disguise? Watching the slayer of your precious Jade Sword prance about unharmed—it must’ve driven you insane!”

The air around Hyun Gong twisted violently.

From afar, the acting Sect Leader Oak Cliff shot the demon a horrified glance and bellowed,

“Shut your mouth, you northern scum! Are you even human?! What grudge makes you twist our Sect Leader’s kindness ?! Unless you truly wish to die by my hand today—!”

Oak Cliff’s body suddenly rocketed backward, slamming into the barrier wall.

Hyun Gong had waved his hand.

A supreme force had crossed the air in an instant.

It was a combination of Wudang’s Face Palm technique and Shaking the Palace—an absolute speed, impossible to react to.

“Speak not so casually of a disciple’s death...”

“It is... an unbearably tragic thing. I’ve seen enough of it in the North. Please... just... enough...”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Meanwhile, his eyes were full of white—his pupils having rolled back into his skull.

Possessed, unable to sever emotional ties—a Sect Leader of Wudang now among the most dangerous people in the world.

—Disciples! Fortify your upper dantians with internal energy, and do not meet the eyes of that northern exile... that expelled disciple! You’ll be ensnared by his demonic illusions!

Oak Cliff, slammed against the ground, sent out a voice transmission. Then he glanced behind him.

A smooth, faintly translucent wall.

Even the shock from the earlier blow had been quietly absorbed by the qi curtain of the Boundless Pain-Cleaving Formation.

He spat up a mouthful of blood, then steadied his voice again with energy. He reached out to a disciple waiting beyond the formation.

—You said seventeen li, yes?

—Yes, Acting Sect Leader. From the guest quarters at Low Sheath Pavilion to here, it’s approximately seventeen li. We will open the formation the moment you signal. Please... stay strong!

Seventeen li—a short distance for any master of light footwork.

Especially for Jeong Yeon-shin, known for his straight-line burst movement with no angle correction.

There were no twists or turns in his step—just pure acceleration.

Naturally, for Oak Cliff and the rest, the wait shouldn’t be long.

But what if another of the Five Supreme Swords stood before them now?

Hyun Gong was still a name above Jeong Yeon-shin’s in the world.

Their generations, their years—vastly different.

Seventeen li was too far.

“Let’s go. It seems I must teach you once more.”

Oak Cliff snapped his head up.

The expressionless Sect Leader stepping down again to take back the Mad Dream Demon.

The expelled disciple’s face curled into a smile beneath the protection of his deranged master.

How had it come to this?

Oak Cliff’s brow twisted in bitter disbelief.

“This time, I won’t allow it! Sect Leader! Please come to your senses! That man is no longer the infant you once raised on your back! He’s the dam choking the very river of Wudang Mountain! Will you truly let him bleed the sect dry?!”

“Wudang is evergreen on its own. That child is nothing.

Just a disciple who... honestly resembled a lacking, empty bowl too much.”

Hyun Gong’s voice remained gentle. And still, he meant no harm to his disciple.

Enough that the Mad Dream Demon dared to chime in beside him,

“I may have gone astray, true.

But if you were to meet Xin Tu face to face, Sect Leader, I believe your thoughts would change. She is the Grand Master of the Dream Demon Physique. The Northern War God has granted me her side. My roots... lie with her. With the North...”

Like they were shrouded in fog.