Chapter 562: Chapter 562

Three people stood in a standoff beneath the chill wind. A one-armed man in a conical hat, a young man in black robes, and a woman whose jet-black garment trailed down to her feet.

Master of Cheongeuk Sect, Man Hwi.

The Lord of the Heavenly Dragon Corps from Ipwang Fortress, and the Lord of Yeouicheon.

Snow fell gently over the ruined land, piling up layer by layer. Even as it repeatedly melted and settled again, it slowly filled the desolate earth.

Soon, the northern lands would reclaim their original form as if nothing had ever happened.

The cursed terrain would be buried beneath pristine white snow. One by one, a white blanket would settle over the twin Northern Kings who returned to their origin, and over the foreigners from the southern orthodox sects.

But not all could be restored.

“Elder Brother! Why...?”

The surviving disciples of Gongdong and Hyeongsan.

Their bodies were withered, but their voices held moisture. In spite of the famine, their hearts had remained fertile.

It was a common scene in troubled times.

The Daoists gathered the bloodied fragments of their senior brothers’ remains into one place. And with a crackling sound, they lit the Threefold Fire of Sammae.

They didn’t care whether the master of the Divine Sword Dongmong was nearby or not.

It was not a formal funeral.

Traditionally, they would have built proper graves and left swords or mirrors inside, praying to the gods of the Taoist underworld for protection so that the deceased could safely ascend to immortality.

But this too was a part of chaos.

If one built a grave in the middle of Northern Gangho and returned years later, it would have long been devoured by a devouring formation. The Daoists of Gongdong and Hyeongsan were right.

A thin smoke spiraled upward.

It rose like incense from a Taoist shrine—thin, but endlessly reaching toward the sky.

Until it blended with the vast, deep-blue northern sky.

“Return to the Origin. Rest in Truth.”

The Master of Cheongeuk Sect tilted his left wrist toward the trailing end of the smoke, but no one responded.

Under the conical hat, the First Sword of the Unorthodox Path smiled awkwardly.

In the midst of deep sorrow, none of the Daoists were wary of him.

They had traveled together for a long time, exchanged countless words. Even now that his identity was known, no one prioritized distant rumors over what they had personally experienced.

The Master of Cheongeuk Sect nodded toward the shoulders of the Yeouicheon Lord and the Heavenly Dragon Corps Commander.

“So, you’re saying all of them learned the martial lineage of Seomye?”

Sunlight outlined the ridgeline in a faint, transparent glow.

Two flagpoles rose and approached. Perhaps to keep wary of Northern Gangho’s warriors, the flags had not yet been unfurled.

Dozens of figures bearing the two flagpoles.

They were, of course, warriors of Yeouicheon and the Heavenly Dragon Corps. The force of their presence distorted even the ridgeline and the tall flagpoles they carried.

It was unified energy—completely harmonized.

Every one of them a master of battlefield techniques.

Unlike the Shin Sword Corps’ individual task forces, they moved as a single martial force, operating like a unified military unit.

Within Ipwang Fortress, they were considered unmatched in group battles, except perhaps by the elite Shin Sword Squad or Ma Gwang-ik, who had practiced Gwangye Arts from youth.

“They’re definitely of the Seomye martial lineage. Your sense for qi is among the most refined of the Five Heavenly Swords. Does my word feel false to you?”

When the Heavenly Dragon Commander Wi Jiguk smiled and asked, the blind man, now the First Sword of the Unorthodox Path, # Nоvеlight # shook his head. He looked mildly annoyed.

“Of course it’s not a lie. With a blade at my throat, who’d dare to speak falsehood?”

“There’s nothing at your throat right now, though...”

At the quiet question from the Master of Cheongeuk Sect, Wi Jiguk fell silent. The next words came from the black-clad woman who had turned her back to them.

“If the entire forces of Yeouicheon and the Heavenly Dragon Corps, including their commanders, attacked in unison... even one of the Five Heavenly Swords would surely lose a limb or two.”

Her long, pitch-black hair flowed exotically down her back. Though her voice was slightly hoarse, it carried a pleasing resonance.

“Do you think you can shed your shell like the Abbot of Shaolin?”

She was asking whether he could become like the armless, yet righteous Master Beomha.

The Master of Cheongeuk Sect smiled faintly beneath his hat.

“That’d be difficult. Who else can relinquish themselves like a true monk?”

“But your words should’ve waited until those brutish underlings arrived. There’s no reason to wait an eternity for a joint strike.”

Suddenly, his hand blurred.

A thunderous sound tore through the air, etching a faint white line into the atmosphere.

The path of the Divine Sword Dongmong. In a single instant, hundreds of slashes created one continuous stroke.

By then, Bukgung Ah and Wi Jiguk were already unleashing defensive qi and footwork in the form of their sects’ secret techniques, their shockwaves hammering the ground with rumbling force.

“Till death do us part. With my first wife, at least...”

Leaving just that line behind, the Master of Cheongeuk Sect stepped into the translucent white line.

He sheathed the blue sword he’d called his first wife—his Jo Gang-ji-cheo. Yet none of those countless strikes had been aimed at the Yeouicheon Lord or the Heavenly Dragon Commander.

His form vanished like smoke.

It was the sword expression of one of the most profound movement techniques in the world—Displacement into Emptiness. No trace of his presence remained.

Wi Jiguk let his shoulders drop.

“Whew, I almost died.”

He let out a sharp whistle, and the qi that clung to his body unraveled like threads. A thin breeze whipped the wide sleeves of his black robe and gradually died down.

Meanwhile, Bukgung Ah had returned her gaze to the ridge where her subordinates were still approaching. Her back remained indifferent.

“There’s more to report to the Dae-ri.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“The Master of Cheongeuk Sect is wandering Northern Gangho... I wonder how he’ll react. I don’t even know what the First Sword of the Unorthodox Path is aiming for.”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen the unhinged Yeouicheon Lord worry about an outside ally. Anyway, rumor says he has a connection with one of the Six Original Star Lords.”

They say she plucked his eye out herself. Wi Jiguk spoke offhandedly.

At that, the back of Bukgung Ah’s dark hair wavered faintly like an icy mirage.

“Use proper honorifics for your direct superior.”

It was an unusually forceful command to give someone clad in the same black, but Wi Jiguk just smiled and shrugged.

The Yeouicheon Lord, once the youngest to wear black before Jeong Yeon-shin, and of royal northern blood, had always been .

At that moment, one of the Daoists who had performed the modest funeral approached.

A middle-aged swordsman in a dusty robe.

His Taoist name was Chwi Pung. A disciple of the Hyeongsan Sect, he had trained in the recently fading Blunt Sword Method.

Though his face was laced with sorrow, he respectfully clasped his hands and bowed to Bukgung Ah and Wi Jiguk.

“I owe both of you a great debt.”

Wi Jiguk returned the gesture just as politely.

“Just happened to be passing by while Chwi Pung Daoist lay down. Fortunate timing before his eyes closed.”

His words sounded like they could provoke a quarrel, despite his perfect etiquette. But the Daoists of Gongdong and Hyeongsan didn’t take offense.

No one expected perfect conduct from the black-clad warriors of Ipwang Fortress.

After all, they too were veterans of Northern Gangho.

The swordsman from Hyeongsan, facing Wi Jiguk, lowered his hands and asked,

“You’ve come all the way up?”

The Heavenly Dragon Commander, sibling to the Sect Leader of Zhongnan, was always polite to elders.

The Hyeongsan swordsman, who had lost his senior brothers, managed a faint smile. A smile worn down by life in Gangho.

“That’s good. The political tides of this land have been shifting strangely.”

“Strangely, you say?”

“Betrayals, uprisings, and clashes are erupting among the Northern Kings. Rumor says two of the Six Original Star Lords have already appeared in Sagwang and in the great city of Okyohee. The world is turning upside down. And really, if there’s more than one First Sword of the Unorthodox Path... is this still a land for human beings?”

“It’s clear someone is stoking this chaos. And the ones who move the world tend to have the darkest hearts.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe there’s some good intention.”

“Trust me. No matter how marvelous his skill, he’s bound to unleash a devastating strike eventually. A new God of War might appear. These are movements we’ve never seen before.”

The Hyeongsan swordsman looked curiously at the Commander of the Heavenly Dragon Corps, but Wi Jiguk turned his gaze away, deflecting it at a slant.

Then, with an oddly admiring expression, he changed the subject.

“Either way, stay alert. The world is growing increasingly unstable. Hungry warriors are starting to come out of seclusion one by one.”

“In times , one wonders what the Imperial Court is doing.”

Wi Jiguk paused for a moment, then glanced briefly at Bukgung Ah as he continued.

“I’m somewhat aware of the situation. The Imperial Court has encountered massive conflict in how to deploy martial forces. The civil and military officials and the Emperor himself are all divided in opinion. And recently... a fire bomb fell upon the Forbidden City in the name of the Acting Master of the Shin Sword Corps.”

“To be precise—a letter.”

—The Imperial Army shall now retreat. The Shin Sword Corps of Ipwang Fortress will provide relief for the northern people.

A terrifying overreach of authority.

At the content, the Chwi Pung swordsman let out a hollow laugh, despite being in mourning.

If anyone had the martial strength to replace the Imperial Army, it was not just the commanders, but every warrior of Ipwang Fortress.

This was on a whole different level from Jeong Yeon-shin, the Yeonhwa Nata, launching bombardments with Yi Gi Yu Geom from the Great Wall to Hocheonseong.

To gain public recognition for such authority would require direct conflict with the entire Imperial Court—both civil and military.

And the empire, by its nature, could not help but worry first about a civil war caused by a concentration of power.

“Is he planning to become another emperor of the north to counter the Southern Emperor? In any case, Beijing must be in turmoil. I've heard many rumors about the Acting Master of the Shin Sword Corps...”

“I nearly died in that turmoil.”

Wi Jiguk smiled faintly as he continued.

“The new Sub-Commander of the Shin Sword Corps went straight to the Forbidden City and declared to the Emperor’s face, ‘The Grand Empress Dowager fears Ipwang Fortress.’ Then he voluntarily walked into the prison—on the condition that both of us be released. Well, I suppose it gave the court a way to save face.”

“...Did I hear that right?”

“With the Three Great Generals and the Three Imperial Guardians all scattered across the Great Wall and the northern regions, there’s no one left in the Forbidden City who could deal with the new Sub-Commander. I don’t know how, but his martial skill has grown unrecognizably strong. When it comes to hidden techniques, he might have no rivals.”

What a freak, Wi Jiguk muttered.

“What brings you here?”

“I was under the impression this was not a place for Your Grace, the Grand Empress Dowager, to visit.”

“...Do you recognize the seal of the Shin Sword Corps Master on this letter? Jeong Seomye of the Jeong Family has contacted you, the Sub-Commander of the Shin Sword Corps. Read it.”

“I have poor night vision, and as you know, this is the Imperial Prison of the Forbidden City...”

“Then just a moment...”

“At this moment in all the realm, none sees better in the dark than you. Have you now read it?”

“To be entirely stripped of freedom, yet remain this calm within the Imperial Prison... you may be the only one in all Nine Provinces capable of that. You have defeated the Ming Dynasty.”

“The literary realm, burdened heavier with each failed harvest... the wolves of the north who claim to be kings now freed from the God of War’s shadow... you saw this shift clearly. The Imperial Court cannot keep the current Sub-Commander of the Shin Sword Corps bound for long.”

“Your Grace, Grand Empress Dowager...”

“As you requested, the Empire will no longer interfere with the operations of Ipwang Fortress. At least not until the north has been pacified... I shall persuade the Prince of Gungmyeong to relocate to the main base in Yangyang. So that Jeong Seomye of the Jeong Family will harbor not even a shred of concern. That too was your intent, was it not?”

“You have broken the chains of oppression that bound Ipwang Fortress for hundreds of years.”

“You may head north now. Go and meet Jeong Seomye of the Jeong Family, and tell him—every request has been granted.”

All seventeen shall follow you.

The low voice of the Grand Empress Dowager echoed faintly.

This was the Forbidden City’s Imperial Prison—deepest within the Ministry of Justice in Beijing. A place not for men, but for beings of monstrous power.

Suddenly, crimson eyes flashed in the darkness.

The surrounding gloom naturally faded, taking the shape of a bat. Within that red aura, the black hem of a robe shuddered into a violet hue.