Chapter 546: Chapter 546

The Great Marshal’s command tent.

A secret meeting was underway between the Great Marshal of the Ming Empire and the Acting Division Leader of the Divine Sword Division. A sight to make any power-holder tense.

Jeong Yeon-shin studied the map of the northern territories and, in that very moment, recognized the one who resided in the Zaning Palace of the Forbidden City. More precisely, he sensed her spiritual presence woven into the wind.

I almost failed to notice it.

Was it the price of unleashing Yi Gi Yu Geom, of letting the Divine Dragon Transformation run wild?

Jeong Yeon-shin’s senses remained sharp as ever—refined to a peak that permitted no ambush. Even with his body heavy from the destruction of Hocheonseong, his perception remained intact.

It was simply that the Grand Empress Dowager’s gaze had been absurdly natural. The wind that stirred the flap of the tent—that alone had been her eyes.

A method of manipulating the spiritual will of natural forces as if they were one’s own limbs.

Senior Shin’s element was earth, wasn’t it...

The former Division Leader, Shin Cheon-hwa, had wielded martial arts that overwhelmingly dominated the Five Elements.

Among them, her manipulation of stone and soil stood out most. Even Jeong Yeon-shin’s swordplay was no match for her swift and subtle mastery.

Similarly, Magwang Lord Cheongmyeong possessed comparable abilities.

“I’m good at reading the wind,” he’d once said.

That had been the reason he was regarded as Magwang Fortress’s greatest swordsman even before Jeong Yeon-shin entered Ipwang Fortress. Because his sword strikes were always supported by the wind.

The Grand Empress Dowager’s strength likely belonged to the same realm. The only difference lay in the level and method of wielding that power.

That was why their earlier exchange had been possible.

Jeong Yeon-shin had slipped a soundless message into the wind. In return, the Grand Empress Dowager had sent him a brief yet clear praise—declaring that Jin Myeong-jo and Jeong Yeon-shin were equal in her eyes.

Even though rebellion was a crime beyond even Ipwang Fortress’s power to resolve, Jeong Yeon-shin felt a weight lift from his chest in that moment.

Everything’s falling into place.

He didn’t find her gaze unpleasant.

If anything, he welcomed it.

It meant the matter of the two Black-ranked seniors might be resolved much sooner than expected.

“Even so, nothing’s truly been resolved yet. As always with the military, it’s those damn civil bureaucrats in Beijing causing the problems.”

Great Marshal Jeon U-rip rubbed his temples irritably.

“They’re lapping up the northern ceasefire like honey. With the imperial power in transition, these rats are scrambling to find their cozy nests. If I were to suddenly issue a full-scale military advance now...”

Whether it was Beijing or the northern front, chaos would erupt. He might find himself caught between the tides of those rising and falling.

Shin So-bin abruptly chimed in.

“Isn’t it a bit late to be worrying about that? General Jeong already flattened a fortress and a pass.”

Jeong Yeon-shin gave a sideways glance at his disciple.

Their eyes met. Shin So-bin’s lips curled up just slightly, cat-like, somewhere between teasing and challenging.

She moved her lips again.

“I studied military strategy in my family too, you know. And by all calculations, this is exactly when we should push forward. Hocheonseong is empty now, isn’t it?”

“The question is whether we seize it or not.”

Jeon U-rip accepted her comment with unexpected ease—perhaps out of respect for the direct heir of the Seomye Lineage—tapping his fingers on the table where the northern map lay.

“If we leave it as is, we’ll only get dragged into a series of small skirmishes... at least until the War God reappears.”

The highest-ranking commander of the Ming military had just casually called the enemy clan’s leader a god.

Under normal circumstances, such a remark wouldn’t be tolerated without the late Emperor’s tacit approval. But Jeon U-rip spoke on as if it were only natural.

“But if I raise the army again, the entire south will be swept into the storm too. The Forbidden City’s elite masters will try to conscript anyone with a sword. And of course, the monsters of the northern martial world will unite as one. The latter is the real problem.”

“So if the Imperial Army moves, the northern martial world will act like a nation too?”

“Exactly, Miss Shin.”

“Then it’s time for the martial world to step in.”

“A few elites should enter the northern martial world. Not just Hocheonseong or the Slhae Pass—but to keep pushing the front line.”

“That’s a recklessly dangerous idea. And there are no martial artists close enough to the military for such work. What expert would voluntarily throw themselves into the Infernal Hell of the Ming military’s records?”

Jeon U-rip’s way of describing the north, and it didn’t feel exaggerated in the slightest.

Jeong Yeon-shin silently agreed. Even as he studied the map, he’d heard snippets about the strange climates, brutal living conditions, and monstrous powers that ruled the northern martial world.

It really is the Infernal Hell... in every sense.

Just then, Shin So-bin smiled sweetly.

“Who’s going to go, you ask? Why, us.”

As Jeon U-rip blinked in surprise, she continued.

“To the martial world, we’re government officials. But to the court, we’re just wandering swords. The imperial court doesn’t officially recognize the Divine Sword Division as part of the imperial army. We’re outsiders. And we will be in the north too. The fact that General Jeong’s name is already listed in the northern ‘Register of Names’ proves it.”

“Oh, that register...”

Jeon U-rip trailed off, as if familiar with the topic. Meanwhile, the muffled sound of restless warhorses stirred outside the command tent, even with the sound barrier in place.

The weight of the northern frontier was pressing in. There was no need to lift the tent flap to feel it.

But Shin So-bin kept talking.

“What matters is rescuing the northern civilians and sending in a handful of elites to sweep through the martial world. And General Jeong hopes that, in the process, Beijing will release Yeouicheon Lord and Sky Dragon Lord voluntarily. With stakes like that, wouldn’t even the late Emperor have approved a campaign?”

“Our reason for coming to the Wall was...”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s quiet voice took over.

“...to make Beijing grant me official support for Yeouicheon and Sky Dragon. Judging by what I’ve seen today, I think a decree from the Forbidden City may be on its way...”

He trailed off slightly. If someone asked why he thought that, he wouldn’t know how to answer.

He was beginning to realize that even the most righteous path must sometimes conceal its intentions.

...Senior Yong must have been lonely.

So was his grandfather Ma Yeon-jeok.

So was the now-deceased Shin Cheon-hwa.

Each of them walked a lonely, ruthless path in their own way.

No doubt they had each risked disgrace to protect their position as Division Leader. Even the previous Yong Hui-myeong’s call to arms had caused massive outrage in Beijing.

No authority had wanted to associate with a Divine Sword Division Leader for long after that. No one had spoken fondly of Ma Yeon-jeok since.

Now, Jeong Yeon-shin had to walk that same path.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A land of monsters and demons where corpses of civilians were used as roof tiles.

That was the duty Jeong Yeon-shin had assigned himself as Acting Division Leader.

To rescue Yeouicheon and Sky Dragon without political fallout.

To extinguish the northern threat before it grew.

And as he waited for the imperial decree, Jeong Yeon-shin remembered something—how he had come to accept chivalry as a natural value.

He had carried it with him since the days of the Jeong family estate, though surely there had been a catalyst.

A rare, fertile land.

He waited in silence, eyes distant with memory.

Jeon U-rip and Shin So-bin did not interrupt. They too fell into their own thoughts for their own reasons.

What was decided in that tent—was no less than the beginning of a great upheaval.

One day after Jin Myeong-jo and Yeon So-ha had been expelled from Zaning Palace.

But the residence they were given was not a dungeon.

Instead, it was one of the nearest halls to the outer rim of the Forbidden City—a place where they could enter and exit for court duties at will.

That was the real problem.

Jin Myeong-jo wrote a memorial with calm elegance. The brushstrokes were quiet, but the contents carried far more weight than the movement of ink.

—The weight of the current Deputy Division Leader alone is equal to that of both Yeouicheon and Sky Dragon. He is more than capable of bearing the punishment in their stead.

That was the crux of it.

“The world needs to see this memorial. Especially Division Leader Jeong.”

While Yeon So-ha was admiring this in silence, he was suddenly summoned back to the Zaning Palace.

Jin Myeong-jo tossed him a jade-blue marble—Bo-ryeong Orb—to carry with him.

“A signal for the new Divine Sword Unit. If anything feels off, don’t enter the palace—just break it. I’ll come.”

Only Yeon So-ha had been summoned this time.

It was no doubt due to Jin Myeong-jo's earlier defiant attitude toward the Grand Empress Dowager.

But the concern Jin had shown as Deputy Division Leader proved unnecessary.

Upon entering the Zaning Palace, Yeon So-ha felt no particular hostility from within. Even the silhouette of the Grand Empress Dowager behind the beaded curtain appeared calm—like a sculpture carved from ancient wood.

In fact, she immediately expressed interest in Illustrious Art of the Divine Sword Division.

“Looking again, it's different still. What’s so crudely embedded in your body... your flow of inner energy is unnaturally free.”

“If Master Sambong had grown up on the battlefield, he may have created such a martial art. Come here. I’m curious what the world looks like through the eyes of one who has studied such a technique.”

“I... I’m not quite sure what you mean, but...”

“I heard you’re a clever boy from a noble family in Beijing. You must have the facial sketches of the martial world agents issued to Ipwang Fortress memorized. You’d recognize them instantly, wouldn’t you?”

A withered, tree-like hand reached through the curtain and touched Yeon So-ha’s forehead before he could resist.

In that moment, Yeon So-ha’s vision turned pale. The sight of the palace swelled skyward in a flash—suddenly, the entire Forbidden City lay beneath him.

As if he had merged with the divine wind itself.

Voices filled his ears. The hushed conversations of imperial martial artists. The whispering of merchants speaking low as possible.

“Huh... the imperial warriors really are as dazzling as they say. Coming to the Forbidden City was worth the trouble. But if that’s the case... the Great Wall must be wide open.”

“The imperial security arts are the greatest in the world. If the Yozoku regroup in their search for the War God, those masters will head north again. What matters more is the Register of Names, don’t you think? All of Jianghu must be in an uproar over it.”

“Well, of course. It’s a starving martial world where strength is everything. Martial artists have always been obsessively sensitive to status. And now, these impressive announcements are posted in every corner of the land...”

“And the scale of it lends credibility. I heard Yeoryeong was behind it.”

“Yeoryeong? Bah. Those cursed bastards.”

“Think about what they’ve done. This whole affair—haven’t they been cunningly dividing the martial world? I wouldn’t even guess how many notarized dueling contracts sprang up after those posters appeared everywhere.”

“You might be right. Pride in the martial world often overrides even hunger.”

“It’s grotesque. Insidious. It’s as if Yeoryeong was part of the northern martial world all along.”

“Enough. Please! This is the imperial palace...! Let’s go to the Ministry of Revenue before the Minister starts yelling.”

“True. If we irritate the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» nobles further, we won’t know how far our grain tax quotas will inflate. Damn all this. At least our rice is going to Ipwang Fortress now...”

Yeon So-ha felt as if he’d become a disembodied soul.

But he wasn’t shaken. Like any Divine Sword Unit member, he was deeply obsessed with martial cultivation.

Is Her Highness showing me the world through my own eyes? This... this might be a divine opportunity. I should absorb what I can.

His will had nothing to do with it. He was drifting between golden rooftops, passing over elegant paths of the Forbidden City.

Even the imperial warriors carrying all manner of weapons, even the civil and military officials—none sensed his presence.

“This register... no imperial soldiers on it, huh.”

“Are we the same as martial sects? Our ranks are decided in the military exams—we don’t split into squabbling rabble. Ah... seems Ipwang Fortress is being treated differently. I can’t tell if they’ll love or hate these posters.”

“Watch your tongue. Don’t assume you’re better than the warriors of Ipwang Fortress.”

“Just speaking frankly. My cot’s killing my back. I’d rather sleep on bare ground in a war tent.”

“You’ll be deployed again soon. Even supreme martial masters can’t handle all those Yozoku beasts. Those who walk Jianghu alone... they’re likely to be overwhelmed. Even if conscripted, they’re useless as real military strength.”

“This paper’s a joke too. Can’t even see the Ten Great Masters on it—what’s the point?”

“Hmm? I don’t even see the ‘sixth.’”

“...This is sorcery. Take your hand off it. We must report to Lord Daeyeong.”

Yeon So-ha wanted to visit the prison where Yeochun Lord and Sky Dragon Lord were held. There was no way people with their personalities were getting along with their jailers.

Especially Senior Bukgung Yeochun...

He wondered if the prison was still intact.

It had been quite a while since they’d been captured.

“I can observe these people only for a moment. But I want to see how the martial art dwelling in your gaze reacts to them. Hold your mind steady.”

The Grand Empress Dowager’s voice.

At once, Yeon So-ha’s vision blurred.

A torrent of scenes poured into his mind.

Illustrious Art of the Divine Sword Division’s power, activated unconsciously, began to filter and organize the chaos. The first image came into clear focus—and it was someone he recognized.

The long green hair of a woman seen from behind.

He couldn’t tell whether the thing hanging between the folds of her light-green sash was a sword or a tree branch.

But the moment he realized she was the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, his vision snapped back as if ejected.

The second image reached his ears before his eyes.

“The old tree of the founding emperor, scurrying like a rat.”

In a haze of white fog, Little Celestial Invincible chuckled as she played a game of Go. The moment she placed a black stone, black as her own hair, his vision flipped and expelled him again.

A desolate plain entered Yeon So-ha’s mind.

There were no people—only the occasional flicker of air shaped like a sword, glowing with rainbow-colored wind.

The fourth scene burst with blood.

The Master of Defeated Swords, ribs crushed by the purple strike of a woman’s knife hand. Yet his eyes remained calm, dark as ink.

He glanced at Yeon So-ha once, then slowly closed his eyelids.

At that moment, Yeon So-ha’s vision also shut, from top and bottom.

The fifth was a mountain built of dead Yozoku corpses.

A one-armed swordsman stood there, wearing a broad-brimmed hat low over his face, a sheepish grin on his lips.

With one hand, he bowed as politely as a Shaolin abbot; with his mouth, he chanted a Taoist incantation like a Wudang priest.

“Original Reality Sutra.”

Golden sparks burst from the hilt of his blade—then vanished beneath his feet.

The next moment, Yeon So-ha’s vision shattered into a thousand and one sword slashes.

Yeon So-ha gasped silently.

But the final image that remained in his sight—

The moment he saw violet garments fluttering in the wind, his inner turmoil settled like a lie.

A peerlessly beautiful young man stood with his back to him, long hair drifting like night air.

Beside him walked a girl in a blue cloak, and in the far distance, two massive shadow-beasts followed them.

They were walking with their backs to the Great Wall.

Jeong Yeon-shin of Seomye spoke.

As if he could meet the Grand Empress Dowager’s gaze without even turning around.