Chapter 606: Chapter 606

Literally, a name given in childhood.

Also known as a courtesy name or first name, it's used until the coming-of-age ceremony.

As the term implies, it is a small name or the first given name, and naturally, it often carries the parents’ affection.

It was likely the same for the Blood King Clan.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought:

‘Even if there was no affection, they surely wouldn’t forget it.’

In his case, the name Yeon-shin (Smoldering Ash) had always been his child name, and it was expected to continue being used even after his coming-of-age.

The villagers of Shin Yae-hyeon, who shared all matters big and small, agreed with it. The Jeong Household was the largest landowning family in Shin Yae-hyeon, after all.

—You are the smoke that remains after burning my greatest love. No other name would suit you. Don’t you agree?

That was the only name given by his father, Jeong Ban-ak.

But the case seemed different for the Seven Apostles.

Their child names and formal names appeared to be separate. Even when acting undercover during the Central Martial Alliance conference, that had been clear.

—I feel like I’ve been shortchanged, so I’ll just tell you: that was my child name. I received a different name during the coming-of-age ceremony. I can only share that one at important times.

Perhaps because of the resentment and affection exchanged, the voice of the Seven Apostle who once whispered in his ear now lingered deeper than the stern tone of his father, who had insisted on calling him Yeon-shin.

It was simply that way now.

“Harin... bit your neck...?”

The Blood King muttered blankly.

A dazed expression, as disordered as the ruined mountains around them. That was his first reaction.

It didn’t suit a king of a clan that prided itself on dignity. The lofty Northern King was nowhere to be seen; instead, a father sat in his place.

“There’s no other meaning. I meant exactly what I said.”

Jeong Yeon-shin now naturally upheld etiquette.

It was because the divine sense in his upper dantian had long discerned that the Blood King's words contained no lies. These were bloodfiends who neither consumed human flesh nor practiced blood draining.

Thus, Jeong Yeon-shin did not lower his tone lightly. But neither did he intend to bend his will.

Wartime conscription. And a conversation.

He showed no sign of stepping back.

“She bit your neck? That’s something open to interpretation.”

On one side, Eo Ung-gong muttered with the face of a child wise beyond his years, and the father and daughter of the Blood King Clan each reacted in their own way.

The moment a colorless wave burst from the Blood King like a mountain echo, Jeok Iseo's body blurred through the Bodily Preservation Meridian.

The Blood King was moments away from unleashing Gongwolmu with an enraged face unlike any before, and Jeok Iseo blocked him with her whole body. Time passed like that.

Jeong Yeon-shin stood quietly still.

Receiving strange looks from Jоо Gwang-shin and Eo Ung-gong.

The Divine Sword Corps Master standing tall at the center of the blue-tinged taiji circle was clearly leading the negotiations with the Blood King Clan. Whether intentionally or not.

The Blood King spat the words while glaring at Jeong Yeon-shin with terrifying intensity. As if looking at a sworn enemy.

Only then did Jeong Yeon-shin begin to feel a slight discomfort. In the midst of that, the Blood King and his daughter guided them ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ to a mountain cave.

Jоо Gwang-shin, still being carried by Eo Ung-gong, showed clear unease.

The number one quickstep master in the world, now legless.

Few could truly comprehend the depth of his loss.

Though he called himself the Beggar King, unlike his usual carefree demeanor, some sense of anxiety must have sharpened his five senses.

Jeong Yeon-shin calmly reassured him.

It was a phrase left unfinished—but with the Divine Sword Corps Master and the Beggars’ Chief together, words weren’t needed for someone like Jоо Gwang-shin.

Jоо Gwang-shin looked at him quietly for a moment. Then his lips curved into a wrinkled smile deeper than the cave’s darkness.

“...You grow up unusually fast. Back in Hangzhou, you still had the air of youth.”

Whether it was admiration or pity was unclear. Jeong Yeon-shin could not answer.

As they went deeper, a soundless chamber appeared. Only a few lanterns were affixed to the walls, burning quietly.

At its center stood a long table.

It was made of zitan wood, suited for some elegant banquet, and the reddish-black surface glistened under the lanterns like dried blood. A murky hue.

The five of them sat.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s group and the Blood King’s daughter and himself.

The retainers of the Blood King Clan remained as far from Jeong Yeon-shin as possible. None even stepped into the hideout.

Before anyone noticed, the Blood King was seated at the head and spoke.

“A legless beggar, a baby general, and a lunatic trying to strike down Namje. What a ridiculous group.”

His expression was sharp as an icicle hanging from the ceiling—transparent and biting. A brief moment of regaining composure.

It was likely to avoid being swayed by Jeong Yeon-shin, who held critical information.

Eo Ung-gong asked without much thought, resting his arguably disadvantaged arms lightly on the table.

But the Blood King continued to stare only at Jeong Yeon-shin. The blood-red eyes seemed ready to weep blood at any moment.

“Did you kill my daughter?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

At his gesture, a liquor bottle flew from the cupboard. With slender fingers, he slowly flicked off the stopper.

Jeong Yeon-shin quietly watched.

‘A hand trained in claw techniques.’

He had never truly seen the Blood King’s power. In the face of spiritual force and the Three Pure Ones’ energy, that was to be expected. Only So Cheonmujuk had been an exception.

He couldn’t let down his guard. This was the Blood King Clan’s hideout. Who knew what tricks they might use?

And yet, his mind was calm. Ever since seeing the Blood King lose composure at his daughter’s child name. A father should be that way.

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke frankly.

“She’s still alive. A woman with no signs of death.”

“Whose bloodline do you think she has?”

His face had regained some composure. The long white hair behind him now rippled with luster again.

The energy that rose with his heart had restored his appearance—a sign of a king who valued dignity.

His smooth voice continued.

“I’ll ask again. Has my daughter been blood draining? The pure-blooded heir of our clan?”

“Judging by the purity of her inner energy, it doesn’t seem so. There was no trace of corruption.”

The moment Jeong Yeon-shin replied, the Blood King followed up with the obvious question.

“Then why did she bite your neck? And how are you still unscathed?”

It was a question that summoned a strange silence to the chamber.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t answer. He simply moved on to the next subject.

“She is now my prisoner. As I first proposed to you, I intend to make her achieve merit equal to her sin...”

“My prisoner, you say?”

It felt as if everything was escalating in a bizarre direction. Something had gone wrong from the start, and it was hard to grasp what needed to be untangled or explained.

Like the tangled web of grudges between Jeong Yeon-shin and the Seven Apostle, now knotted too tightly.

“That’s how the martial world is.”

Jоо Gwang-shin muttered to himself.

He now seemed to find this whole scene rather amusing, whereas Jeong Yeon-shin felt the opposite.

“I’ll arrange a meeting.”

“Do I look that soft to you? Why do you assume I want to meet that girl?”

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t realize how his expression had changed when he asked that question.

He could only guess from the reactions around him.

Suddenly, Eo Ung-gong pushed his chair back with his short legs, the Blood King's internal breathing pattern changed distinctly, and Jeok Iseo had cold sweat like dew forming beneath her ear.

‘She projected her father onto me.’

It seemed like demonic energy had leaked from the third radiance like a puff of breath. The stone walls of the chamber were dampened by a dark, shadowy moisture.

The Blood King narrowed his eyes like a drawn sword and asked,

“Did you come from the Ming Sect?”

“I am the Master of the Divine Sword Corps.”

Jeong Yeon-shin answered quietly. At the same time, composure vanished from the faces of the Blood King and his daughter.

“What? You're the Lost Sword Yong Hui-myeong?”

“Divine Sword Corps Master...!”

Their reaction was immediate. That short reply seemed to confirm Jeong Yeon-shin’s strength.

They clearly had no idea what Jeong Yeon-shin or Yong Hui-myeong looked like.

Perhaps it was because this place was near the northern end of the Demonic Territory, beyond the Ming’s northern border. Unlike the southern elites, who had all memorized the features of the Divine Sword Corps Master.

“He was the previous Master.”

Jeong Yeon-shin stated calmly.

Just as Jоо Gwang-shin cleared his throat, the Blood King vanished from his seat. Without any hint of movement, he appeared right before Jeong Yeon-shin. Both feet flat on the ground.

A preternaturally smooth movement of the Bodily Preservation Meridian. A breath later, the wind blew Jeong Yeon-shin’s bangs roughly aside.

But Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t blink. The Blood King bent his tall frame and locked eyes with him.

“Then my daughter is the prisoner of the Divine Sword Corps Master?”

“That’s how it turned out.”

In that fleeting moment, Jо Gwang-shin’s whisper pierced Jeong Yeon-shin’s ear.

―Weren’t you here to win the Blood King over on our way down?

―Yes, Master. I’m still working on it.

“Don’t play games with me!”

The Blood King snapped his head toward Jоо Gwang-shin and shouted. A supreme bloodfiend—he’d sensed even the faintest transmission of inner voice.

Jоо Gwang-shin obediently fell silent.

Meanwhile, Eo Ung-gong clenched and unclenched his tiny fist.

He was secretly preparing a strike. Even if his body was weakened, the Light Spear technique still carried weight.

“Harmony is harder than mastering a divine technique. Especially when the other side is drunk on their own power, prestige, and history. Even the late emperor never saw the Northern Kings as targets for negotiation.”

“The late emperor? So you’re of Emperor Gunreung’s blood...?”

The Blood King's temper now flared in every direction like sparks. A man who might break, but never bend.

A battlefield of supreme masters.

Jeong Yeon-shin deliberated.

What moves a person’s heart? The Blood King wasn’t one to be swayed easily.

Absolute masters like him use their highly developed divine sense to sniff out lies like a pureblood Ming noble.

You can’t have a deep conversation without sincerity.

The other half of this vast valley belonged to another Northern King—Lord of the Violent Wind Division, leader of the bandits descended from Yuan cavalry. It was said he was already circling the Blood King Clan like a pack of wolves.

‘If I have to consider Lord of the Violent Wind Division as well...’

The chamber shook violently.

Dust fell from the dimly lit lanterns, and the table they sat at groaned under the tremors.

It felt like an artificial earthquake had reached the cave.

“...What kind of man is Lord of the Violent Wind Division?”

Jeong Yeon-shin stood as he asked.

Eo Ung-gong had already slung Jоо Gwang-shin onto his back, and the Blood King and his daughter were staring at the ceiling.

Eo Ung-gong spoke quickly.

“I know a bit about him. Since he’s a Yuan remnant, the military’s kept a close watch on him. That bandit is a master of blade-force manifestation.”

An empire that clashed fiercely with the Ming over control of the Central Plains from late Yuan to early Ming.

Only after fending off the Eight Ancient Schools, the grand masters under the Empress Dowager, the young Lord of Ipwang Fortress, and the first Divine Sword Corps Master together, were they finally pushed back to the far Mongolian plateau.

Even now, their martial lineage remains a symbol of power.

‘The martial lineage of the Northern Provinces.’

Jeong Yeon-shin expanded his senses in all directions and asked Eo Ung-gong,

“If it’s blade-force manifestation, do you mean sword-force?”

“Yes. Yuan cavalry martial arts consisted mainly of two divine techniques. Long weapons like bows and spears were the basics... but sword qi and sword-force—techniques that twist and lash out with unpredictable range—were the real menace. And their cultivation methods could handle that kind of drain.”

Though Eo Ung-gong’s boyish voice was calm like a seasoned master, there was a faint tremor, as if recalling something dreadful.

Jeong Yeon-shin focused on a different part.

“Sword-force... so they actually use swords?”

“Correct. Among the Northern Kings, he's one of the few who wields a blade.”

No sooner had Eo Ung-gong said that than light poured down from the ceiling. A massive sword slash had torn across the mountain peak above the cave.

Through the cracks of the blackened rock, sunlight burst in with a ripping noise.

[Hey, you still alive?]

A rough voice boomed down the mountainside like a thug of the black path. He was calling the Blood King.

It was Lord of the Violent Wind Division.

“The moment something happens to the clan...!”

Jeok Iseo’s eyes flashed crimson, and the Blood King glanced between Jeong Yeon-shin and the ceiling before lifting his gaze with a sharp sigh.

“The clan comes first.”

Meanwhile, Eo Ung-gong furrowed his smooth brow.

“We’re surrounded from outside. That sword qi is extremely sharp. I can even smell the scent of horse mane. Roughly 120 riders... a huge force. And every warhorse is a Hanblood Steed. Ah, a Hanblood Steed is something the Yuan once pillaged from the West...”

“I sense something else.”

Jeong Yeon-shin said quietly, calming the pitch-black radiance spinning tightly around his heart like it was begging to be released.

He suppressed his entire aura.

In a breath, he firmly settled into the Reverse Void Return state. Not a trace of radiance or even a wisp of intent that might evoke the elegance of a Divine Sword Corps Master escaped him.

It had been some time since Jeong Yeon-shin had sliced through the mountain with his formless sword.

Now, as another transcendent blade strike split the mountain peak that housed the cave—

A laid-back voice echoed from afar. It was the voice of a wanderer.

Jeong Yeon-shin heard it clearly.

Perhaps it was because he had unknowingly inherited the sensory path of the Sword Saint.

From a narrow path below the vast Hanblood Gorge—

A presence suddenly appeared.

A voice that refused to be forgotten, footsteps so relaxed it was as if the world was his own.

For that person, distance meant nothing. From faraway Fujian to this Demonic Territory—it made no difference.

Regardless of what price his sharp, alien Void Technique might bring—

The Master of Celestial Extremes Sect. The Celestial Wanderer Man Hwi.

Had he perhaps thrown in his lot with the swordsman Lord of the Violent Wind Division?

Jeong Yeon-shin formed the Heaven-Cracking Starting Form with his right hand. A claw-like shape with only three fingers, like a dragon’s talon.

It was now the sword-drawing stance of the Divine Sword Corps Master of this generation.