Chapter 608: Chapter 608

When talk of a naadam festival echoed from the mountains—

Jeong Yeon-shin immediately changed his face and bone structure the moment he sensed the One Sword of the Heretical Path. It was the Face-Altering Art, taught to him long ago by Jin Myeong-jo, the former captain of the Divine Sword Unit.

—“Every person has an innate bone structure, so you can’t change it drastically. Don’t let others look too long at your face unless they’re blind. And even the blind can sense through energy—so it won’t be of much use.”

—“Yes, senior. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the teaching.”

—“The General Bureau doesn’t typically assign infiltration missions to the Divine Sword Unit. May I ask why you wanted to learn this?”

—“Because you mastered it, senior.”

—“The Bloodshadow Ghost Sword isn’t enough for you...?”

—“What’s really lacking is me, this junior, who hasn’t yet forged a worthy formless sword. I can only apologize.”

—“You have plenty of time, Deputy.”

—“The nights are long in winter, it seems. I have a bottle of Shaoxing yellow wine that Tae Yeom-ryong once hid away. May I prepare a seat for it? A drinking table for the Deputy and the captain of the Divine Sword Unit.”

—“There’s time. I’ll let you know someday. But for now, let’s...”

That was when the weight of having to replace the commander Yong Hui-myeong of the Divine Sword Unit was subtly pressing down on him.

He never did get to share that drink with the unit captain. But even so, in this moment, that memory gave him strength.

All the information passed down from his senior, all the small yet refined techniques—everything the man shared now supported him.

“You said you’re family?”

The Lord of the Violent Wind Division asked again.

By now, his gaze had shifted to the Blood King, and the Blood King, for some reason, was glaring at Jeong Yeon-shin as if about to spill blood.

Thus, the three-way stare formed a tight chain.

Jeong Yeon-shin wasn’t even looking at either Northern King. His eyes were on the master of Cheongeuk.

“Don’t look at the blind man like that.”

Cheongeukmunju Man-hwi raised the corner of his mouth slightly as he spoke.

“It’ll only ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) create unnecessary misunderstandings.”

The quiet mountain path—

At last, the Blood King spoke to the master of Cheongeuk.

“The Southern Heretical Sword of the Path, I presume? No other peerless swordsman would dress like that.”

“You must be the Blood King.”

“Why have you attached yourself to the Violent Wind Division?”

“A swordsman is drawn to those who wield the blade. If there’s another walking the same path I’ve dedicated my life to, we naturally feel kinship—or critique. If that person has achieved Gongwolmu, even more so.”

Though the response was shameless, there was a distinct force that dominated the atmosphere. It was the madness of a man who had walked a solitary road.

The Blood King shut his mouth.

A flicker of astonishment glimmered in Jeok Iseo’s eyes.

“They say the Lord of the Violent Wind Division is a disgraced remnant of the Yuan military, known to eat human flesh during famine.”

Jeong Yeon-shin continued slowly.

“You knew that, and still chose to become a guest of the Division?”

“What, is he insane? Even if it’s true...”

The Deputy of the Violent Wind muttered from the side.

She was still draped lazily over her blood-colored saddle, looking at Jeong Yeon-shin as though he were trash. Even now, the Lord of the Violent Wind had locked eyes only with the Blood King.

The master of Cheongeuk smiled faintly.

“I can’t see anything.”

“That’s fair too. I’m a bug with a sword.”

The blind man in the straw hat spoke in a flat tone.

“A pest. A harm. I became that long ago. But what can I do when there’s no one left to crush me? I have to live .”

The Blood King grabbed Jeong Yeon-shin by the shoulder and said,

“Shut your mouth. Provoking the enemies of our house is not the only way.”

Was it because he was a Blood Fiend who’d risen to the rank of Northern King? The grip was monstrous. His plain clothes wrinkled, and a crushing pressure descended on his shoulder.

It came with a cold, sharp inner transmission like an icicle.

—“Do you even know what happens to Blood Fiends with red eyes in Ming territory? Do you know why our clan, once allied with the Bloodflame Cult, was driven to hide here in the Demonic Lands, surrounded by Yokai? Whatever ties you have with my daughter, they will not determine the fate of our clan!”

A desperate whisper, spoken at the doorstep of a great enemy, scraped through Jeong Yeon-shin’s ears.

The Blood King was a father who had lost a child, a ruler trying to protect his land, the patriarch of his clan, and a great master of the lineage.

He had lived many lives.

Lives with hardships that Jeong Yeon-shin could scarcely imagine.

Anyone born human bears a burden.

Everyone, in their place, disregards others, chases their own purpose, and carries the weight of a life that they either chose—or that was thrown on them.

Like pushing through a dense, dark forest.

Originally, that weight was too great for the likes of mayflies, doomed to die in a day.

It was no longer so for Jeong Yeon-shin.

He carried many burdens now. Some he chose. Some were hurled onto him by the world. And some—like that old swordmaster who tied the pack gently on his back—were given with kindness.

The weight of life is the same for all.

Its length doesn’t matter.

And so, much now concerned him.

Many in the martial world carved paths with their own swords—but above the thicket, the same dusk always loomed.

Under one sky, there were duties to uphold. There was a greater Right.

And so, if one acts with courage for that Right, it becomes Chivalry. And Jeong Yeon-shin’s chivalry was the courage to press on, even if it meant losing much.

He took a step forward.

The plan was unexpectedly perfect. Aside from the Blood King and his daughter, everyone else on the path strangely believed he truly was a Blood Fiend.

‘The temperament of the Seven Blades has started to stain me.’

—“Don’t get involved!”

The Blood King’s voice exploded like thunder in his mind.

—“You, with your level of strength, clashing with that blind man? It’ll sever the ley lines of one of the few fertile lands left! And that land’s qi will be used for your cultivation! Can you feed us when we’re starving? Can you do anything with your half-assed chivalry besides destroy? I need to send him away with bluster and diplomacy—”

—“That man doesn’t respond to those things. He’s a colossal threat that must be stopped here.”

—“My clan comes first! I am the Northern King! The havoc that blind man could wreak upon the world comes second—!”

Jeong Yeon-shin took another step and said,

—“Take care of your clan too.”

It felt like the slope was narrowing. The path became clearer. From the Great Wall to the Demonic Lands, his drifting heart finally came back down to earth.

The North, the Demonic Lands, the Northern King, the clans, the Six Forces, the Five Great Swords of the world, the military factions, the major sects, the Qing, the Ming...

No need to overthink it.

Where he set his feet—that was the martial world.

As the dry grass danced in the cold wind, two pairs of riders blocked the narrow path.

The Northern King Lord of the Violent Wind, and his great warrior, the Deputy Lord. It seemed they didn’t want to cause trouble for their guest.

They were watching the blind man closely.

Perhaps they meant to save him for a bigger task.

Maybe they hoped to win over one of the Five Great Swords of the world—on par with the Six Forces.

At this moment, the master of Cheongeuk clearly dominated the space.

“Throwaway piece? Something’s off...”

The Lord of the Violent Wind murmured.

The Deputy next to him opened her mouth lazily, giving the blood horse a light kick to its side.

“Let’s clear it out first. This day’s already got too many variables.”

The blood-colored horse snorted low as it walked toward Jeong Yeon-shin. Its clacking hooves sounded like the rhythm of the two great powers in Cold-Blood Ravine.

Key figures in major factions could be either recklessly bold or obsessively meticulous.

Or both, depending on their mood or condition.

Because they’re human.

Jeong Yeon-shin had encountered many such people. By now, his experience rivaled that of old veterans.

And in this moment, the Deputy Lord of the Violent Wind was both meticulous and reckless. Maybe it was because she’d just sparred with Jeok Iseo. She seemed slightly drunk on her own talent.

She raised her thin-bladed sword, forming Sword Qi, and said with mock sympathy:

“Iseo, Iseo. If you needed a brother to replace the one you lost, you should’ve picked a girl instead... Well. You could’ve just told us. What happened to the Blood King Clan?”

“What do you want to know for?”

Jeok Iseo pushed Jeong Yeon-shin forward with invisible energy as she answered. Perhaps she’d sensed something from him when he spoke of the Seven Blades. Unlike the Blood King, she was letting him step forward.

It was the same pattern as the Deputy of the Divine Sword Unit.

Jeong Yeon-shin walked slowly down the now-narrowed path. No one made a move to stop him. Perhaps because of Jeok Iseo’s stance, even the Blood King now seemed to have given up.

“What do I want to know? That’s funny. You’ve got to know the full picture before you can wipe the Blood King Clan out of Cold-Blood Ravine.”

Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin was staring past her shoulder.

Beyond the Lord of the Violent Wind, even farther back.

To the straw-hatted figure who had now tilted his head suspiciously.

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The master of Cheongeuk.

He could reach him now.

"The blade’s reach isn’t just close—it’s more than enough. Hey, do you know just how wide a cavalry warrior’s striking range is?"

The Deputy of the Violent Wind Division lifted her narrow saber, now overlaid with a glow like starlight. A low, resonant hum followed the motion, and her blood-colored warhorse exhaled a thick plume of breath.

Divine Horse Three...

Suddenly, a deep blue flame crushed the warhorse’s head, pierced through the Deputy’s abdomen, and streaked in a perfect line to skewer the Lord of the Violent Wind Division’s lower belly, leaving behind a shrill, resonant trail.

In the blink of an eye, that distorted space expelled a delayed shockwave with a faint gasp.

Bloodied chunks of flesh exploded belatedly like thunderstones, only to collapse inward and crumple.

The Deputy’s eyes, snapping instinctively behind her, reflected the Lord of the Violent Wind Division—his lower dantian half-destroyed. He wore a faint, bitter smile, as though he had only just realized the strike.

“Of all the things in the world...”

At that same moment, his face was obscured by Jeong Yeon-shin’s back. Blue embers flickered from his right hand—he had passed the Deputy in a single step.

The peak of internal energy manipulation—

The backlash from the strike was immense.

The Face-Altering Art he had used to twist his bone structure began unraveling rapidly. He was just about to return to his original appearance. But the Deputy’s eyes, rather than seeing his true face, met only the rough ground.

Her body slumped beneath the weight of her horse’s torso. With her dying breath, she cursed under her breath—literally.

Everyone realized it.

The Deputy was never even in Jeong Yeon-shin’s sights.

“So he was the one behind that sword strike...?”

The Lord of the Violent Wind muttered, tapping pressure points around his abdomen with one hand. He’d suspected it already, but the enemy’s Counter-Ghost Step had been far more exquisite than expected.

A sneak attack executed more perfectly than any Blood Fiend could have managed.

A true avatar of decisive battle.

Even Wuqu, the martial general of the Six Forces famed for such techniques, or the God of War himself, would struggle to chain Counter-Ghost Step with such a Formless Sword.

At this level, it was unavoidable—even if one knew in advance.

“Unless you're prepared to abandon your territory and flee.”

But he had never planned to do that. A meaningless thought. The Lord of the Violent Wind had been neutralized without even a chance to perform his Gongwolmu.

Had he focused on Jeong Yeon-shin from the beginning, he might have at least exchanged one blow.

It was out beyond the ravine.

Regardless of that bitter murmur, the current Jeong Yeon-shin had shaped was accelerating like a torrent.

The Commander of the Divine Sword Unit had revealed his power.

Everything would now begin to move faster. It was inevitable.

The mountain path had been ravaged from all sides.

Rivulets of blood trickled down the dirt path stained crimson. A cold northern wind scraped the ground, pushing that flow onward.

On a narrow downhill slope, two of the Five Supreme Swords of the World now faced each other.

Jeong Yeon-shin stood slightly higher, and the master of Cheongeuk was lower.

The one-armed man, staring quietly up at the peerless youth, tilted his head.

“Hard to believe even when I see it. Why are you here?”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s reply was calm.

“I’m still deciding. I don’t know what would benefit the world more.”

“Should I cut off your head right here, or would it be better to let you live a little longer?”

The master of Cheongeuk chuckled.

“Whether you actually can cut my head off aside, you’ve changed a lot. That’s not the kind of thing someone of royal blood from Ipwhang Fortress should say to the head of the heretical path. If not kindness, at least keep the sword sheathed.”

“You’re right. Compared to evaluating your usefulness, it’s easier to take in a Blood Fiend.”

But Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze was different from his words.

There was something distant about it.

As though filled entirely with the night sky. His pitch-black pupils were like the void of night. All grudges had lost their light, leaving behind only scattered stars called humans.

A Wandering Swordsman.

Someone who could set aside personal grudges.

Who saw only the greater cause.

For some reason, the master of Cheongeuk turned his words aside for the first time.

“I came to see the Lord of the Violent Wind’s sword arts, but now that I’ve seen you, I suppose I should retreat. Can’t abandon my loyal wife now, can I?”

He idly fiddled with the hilt of his pale blue Child's Dream Sword. Once in Hangzhou, after immersing himself in the essence of the Left-Handed Sword, he had told Jeong Yeon-shin he would no longer interfere with the martial veins of Seomye.

And Jeong Yeon-shin was the embodiment of Seomye’s martial veins.

The master of Cheongeuk didn’t say more.

“Until next time. I wish you well.”

When did he draw his sword?

Suddenly, a translucent sword path opened before him. Among the Five Supreme Swords, he alone could manipulate space freely. Now, the air had been torn apart, revealing a pale, colorless core.

With a single blade, he had opened an Anomalous Void.

And he hadn’t even swung it widely this time.

“Third time. You’ve got pretty good luck.”

Just as his smiling hand touched the translucent rift, Jeong Yeon-shin moved—closing the distance using Five-Step Wing Sweep and gripping the very same trajectory.

A bluish ring of the Taiji of Southern Radiance was etched into the back of his hand.

The master of Cheongeuk let out a curious gasp.

His thumb began dissecting the sword path’s internal energy structure.

On his index finger: the sword wind pressure of Judging Qilin from the Thunder Ridge Style.

On his middle finger: the repelling force of Nine Jade Rivers, reflecting the opponent’s internal energy.

On his ring and pinky: the crushing pressure of Blue Flame Eclipse.

A small, faint circle drawn on the back of his hand.

The blue Taiji dissolved all incoming pressure into his palm. It looked like a dragon’s claw. And it took but a split second for the technique to complete.

Poetic Limitless Hand Technique, Fifth Form.

As he pulled the void toward him, the sword path distorted like a bowstring. Shock dawned in the master’s eyes.

Before he could even swing Child's Dream again, the Anomalous Void shattered inside Jeong Yeon-shin’s clenched fist.

A thunderous roar followed the Heavenbreaker gesture of Poetic Limitless Hand Technique. Fragments of colorless internal energy scattered beneath Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand.

Time stopped for a breath.

The blind man in the straw hat seemed at a loss for words.

“You’re not leaving without permission.”

Silence followed Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice. The dry grasses rustled against themselves. No one among the elite warriors on the path spoke.

Not even as a random pinecone rolled down with the gust of the northern wind.

Only after a few breaths did the master of Cheongeuk speak.

“...Let’s calm down first.”

“You calm down. My composure lately has been like a polished lake.”

“If we fight, one of us will die—and the other will be crippled. Mutual destruction’s on the table. We’re both Supreme Swords after all.”

Jeong Yeon-shin calmly clenched and opened his right hand. Within it, the voices of many spoke to him. Those who had chosen death, those who never needed to die.

—“With just a little courage, many in the martial world could bloom.”

Jeong Yeon-shin had taken that courage.

The courage to suppress the fury demanding he kill this man, the courage to wield even villains for a greater cause as a high-ranking commander of the Divine Sword Unit.

Of course, a hierarchy through martial skill must exist, however slight. Such was the way of the martial world.

“If the only swordsmen you recognize are the Five Supreme Swords...”

A sword of dark blue flame flickered into shape in Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand, then vanished. The oppressive force that weighed even on the skin faded with it.

Formless Sword—Starry Night.

“I am the Supreme Sword of the world.”