Awakening
Gukgwang, gasping for air, pushed himself to the limit as he fled desperately. Despite his efforts, the relentless pursuit by those clad in black and red uniforms continued. Any momentary lapse in focus resulted in a barrage of hidden weapons launched his way. Already, five Bloodfeather Arrows—heavy projectiles designed for long-range attacks—were lodged in his back. Though they hadn't penetrated his defensive aura, they hung from his clothing, swaying annoyingly with every movement.
The arsenal of concealed weapons ranged from the thin and light Black Needle to the bulky and heavy Bloodfeather Arrow. The lighter projectiles were typically thrown using internal energy, but their accuracy dropped significantly beyond six meters. Conversely, heavier weapons like the Bloodfeather Arrow could be hurled great distances with a combination of physical strength and internal energy, making them ideal for targeting fleeing or charging enemies.
The sheer volume of projectiles being fired left Gukgwang with no choice but to endure a few hits, dodging only the most dangerous ones launched by those with higher internal energy—those capable of breaking through his defensive aura.
Suddenly, another wave of sharp energy surged toward him from behind, accompanied by the distinctive sound of a weapon piercing through the air.
"Do they think I'm a fool?" Gukgwang muttered.
Sensing the attack closing in, he spun around mid-run, swinging his sword to intercept the incoming weapon.
"Haap!"
Clang!
The sword collided with the projectile, sparks flying as it ricocheted into a nearby tree, embedding itself deeply. Without missing a beat, Gukgwang turned back and resumed his desperate sprint.
He ran with every ounce of strength he had left, but another piercing sound reached his ears—a weapon speeding toward him yet again.
I can't keep stopping. If I pause like this every time, they'll catch up.
Still running, Gukgwang turned his head slightly to gauge the timing of the next attack. Spotting the weapon streaking toward him, he waited until the last moment before twisting his body and swinging his sword, Mookhon.
Clang!
The projectile was deflected, sparks flying as it fell harmlessly to the ground. Elated, Gukgwang couldn't help but shout, "Hah! I'm going to survive—urk!"
Splash!
In his single-minded focus on the weapons behind him, Gukgwang had neglected to watch where he was going. He plunged headfirst into a body of water, spluttering as he surfaced.
"What the hell is this?!"
Mookhyang emerged from the water, calmly pulling out the blade lodged in his side using his internal energy.
My body's condition is a mess…
Without hesitation, he began channeling the Northern Darkness Divine Art, drawing energy from the earth around him. A faint, transparent blue light radiated from his body, illuminating the darkness and unintentionally revealing his position to his pursuers.
Noticing the glow, Neunbigye turned to Haegonggong and asked, "Haegonggong, does the Imperial Palace martial arts include techniques like that?"
"I don't think so… This is my first time seeing it. Although, there are about twenty incomplete martial arts, and I don't know every single technique within the Imperial Palace archive," Haegonggong replied.
"Fair point."
Unsettled, Neunbigye cautiously approached Mookhyang. By this time, the brilliant blue light emanating from Mookhyang had dimmed to a faint glow. The group of pursuers—clad in black, red, and yellow—surrounded him, hesitating to approach further. The eerie beauty of the fading light left them wary, their weapons drawn, as they waited for someone else to make the first move.
Mookhyang surveyed the group, a calm yet mocking tone in his voice as he addressed them.
"Cowards! You dare to ambush me using my own methods? To use a tactic I favor to bring me to this state… utterly shameful."
The unexpected and cryptic accusation left his pursuers baffled, exchanging uneasy glances.
Has he gone mad?
However, in their focus on the surreal blue glow and his seemingly strange behavior, they failed to notice something crucial—Mookhyang's wounds had fully healed.
With an almost amused sneer, Mookhyang muttered, "So the sect leader's been secretly crafting all sorts of lackeys behind my back, huh? And here I thought I'd seen everything. To think you'd dare raise a blade against me... and the leader of this little chase is none other than Neunbigye."
Lowering his sword, Mookhyang moved slowly, his blade descending as if weighed down by mountains. Neunbigye felt a twinge of unease.
Why is he lowering his sword? That's a poor stance... yet, there's an overwhelming weight to his movement, like a mountain itself…
"Scatter!" he shouted instinctively.
But it was too late. Invisible sword energy erupted like a whirlwind, sending the encircling swordsmen sprawling. Weapons were flung from their grasp, and many tumbled to the ground, battered by the sheer force of the wave.
Mookhyang wasted no time. "Today's the day you all die."
In a flash, he charged forward, his speed unmatched. With Mookhon in hand, he unleashed a terrifying storm of energy. A cursed sword technique, long thought lost in the martial world, was reborn.
It was the Unmatched Sword Technique.
Fools, relying on numbers against me? Mookhyang thought with a cruel chuckle. His mastery of Tonggang, the supreme unifying force technique derived from Dagang, turned his blade into an unstoppable force. His opponents fell in pieces as the storm of energy radiated outward.
Neunbigye, witnessing the massacre and Mookhyang's approach, felt sheer terror.
It's hopeless. He's awakened. Escaping from a Transcendent Demon like him is impossible now. Only one option remains…
Neunbigye's body swelled as red light began to shimmer around him. His hair stood on end, his visage transforming into that of a fierce demon. Channeling every ounce of his internal energy, he roared:
"Crimson Sun Divine Art!"
Bringing his hands together, Neunbigye unleashed a massive surge of red energy, hurling it toward the oncoming Mookhyang. The blazing mass of energy surged forward like a tidal wave.
Yet, Mookhyang did not evade. Instead, he ran directly into the attack, activating the first form of the Unmatched Sword Technique: Defense. The energy collided with the barrier he formed, splitting apart and dissipating in an explosive display that shook the ground.
As the dust cleared, Neunbigye moved to retreat, but he was already too late. Mookhyang had closed the distance, his blade glowing with a fiery blue aura.
With a single, downward slash, Mookhyang's sword fell—a radiant flame in the dark night.
Mookhyang's blade, now blazing with an intense azure glow, sliced through Neunbigye in a single stroke, severing him in two. The sight left everyone around in stunned silence. Only then did the black-clad figures realize the gravity of the situation.
The vice leader's memories have returned!
This revelation alone was enough to crush their will to fight. They recalled the elaborate preparations made for Mookhyang's elimination, gathering every elite within the top hundred of the Heavenly Demon Sect along with its major forces. Even with such measures, success had hinged on relentless ambushes and sheer luck.
Now, with Mookhyang fully restored and standing before them, any hope of a successful assault seemed laughable. Furthermore, the rumor of his weakness—his reliance on childlike martial arts—was clearly false. And with Neunbigye slain, they were left with only one option.
"Vice leader… please forgive us..."
The black-clad men threw themselves to the ground in unison, prostrating and repeating their plea. Fighting was no longer an option; begging for mercy seemed their best chance for survival.
In stark contrast, the imperial warriors were baffled by the turn of events.
"What madness is this? Even if their leader has fallen, groveling like this is absurd. So much for the so-called terror of the Heavenly Demon Sect," thought Haegonggong, letting out a mocking laugh.
"Ha ha ha! So this is the infamous Demon Sect? One leader dies, and they throw themselves at the mercy of their enemy. Pathetic! And to think, their supposed strongest techniques boil down to such brute force, clashing head-on without a shred of finesse. Laughable!"
Mookhyang turned his attention to the peculiar figure, intrigued by Haegonggong's sharp voice and the aura emanating from him. His instincts warned him that this individual was no ordinary opponent.
Who is this?
The bizarrely androgynous demeanor, the unnerving high-pitched laughter—it all unsettled him. But what irked Mookhyang most was the memory of nausea he felt from something he ate three years prior, inexplicably resurfacing at the sound of the laughter.
With a calm but deliberate motion, Mookhyang withdrew the energy from his sword, extinguishing its glow. He spoke evenly.
"May I ask who you are?"
Haegonggong smirked at the unexpected courtesy. "This one is called Haegonggong."
"Ah, Lord Haegonggong," Mookhyang replied. "It's surprising to see someone of your stature from the imperial palace involving themselves in martial affairs."
Haegonggong raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the remark.
"What is he going on about? It's the martial world meddling in imperial matters, not the other way around… Ah, is this a veiled threat to leave quietly, considering the score he's about to settle with the Demon Sect?"
Haegonggong grinned as he tried to unravel Mookhyang's intentions.
Haegonggong chuckled, his laughter grating. "Ha ha ha! Why shouldn't the imperial palace meddle in martial affairs? Both sides claim to steer clear of each other, but haven't they always secretly helped or hindered one another?"
Mookhyang, still outwardly polite, subtly released a wave of energy toward Haegonggong as he responded, "Is that so? But I feel the palace is far too involved this time, don't you think?"
"Hmph! It's none of your concern how the palace intervenes. Are martial artists not subjects who live on imperial soil?"
"Perhaps not," Mookhyang replied.
"What gives you the right to—urk!"
A sudden burst of invisible sword energy engulfed Haegonggong, throwing him off balance. That fleeting moment of vulnerability was all Mookhyang needed. In a flash, he surged forward, pouring his true energy into his blade, and slashed downwards with the Ink Soul Sword.
"You coward… resorting to tricks…" Haegonggong managed to groan, writhing in his final moments.
Mookhyang sneered, dismissing the accusation. "Coward? Of course I am, you fool. You're not even worth fighting. I only fight humans. You—neither man nor woman—are nothing but a grotesque monster."
With a sickening sound, Haegonggong was split in two.
Despite his reputation, Haegonggong wasn't invincible. His overconfidence after assessing himself superior to Mookhyang proved fatal. The nearby red-clad warriors, their eyes blazing with fury, charged at Mookhyang to avenge him.
But they were no match. In mere moments, the eleven red-clad warriors were dispatched, their bodies reduced to lifeless pieces.
Mookhyang turned his gaze toward the pale-faced yellow-robed figures, who stood frozen in fear. After scanning them, he shifted his attention to one of the black-clad individuals and spoke.
"It's been a while, Cheolgeukgwang."
A voice, trembling with terror, replied, "Y-yes…"
"As my subordinate, will you swear loyalty to me, or do you prefer to die here as the sect leader's pawn?"
"Heh heh heh… The sect has always adhered to the law of the strong. Naturally, I will serve you, Lord Mookhyang."
"Good. Did you come alone for my assassination?"
"No, the Flame King Saber is here with us."
"Good. Then I'll give you one order."
"Command me, my lord."
"Eliminate those irritating yellow-robed ones."
"As you wish! Follow me!"
At Cheolgeukgwang's command, the hundred or so black-clad warriors charged at the more than seven hundred yellow-robed men.
The ensuing clash was swift and brutal. The martial strength of the Heavenly Demon Sect's elites proved overwhelming, turning what might have been a battle into a near one-sided slaughter.
The assassination of Grand General Ok Yeongjin, orchestrated by Eom Seung's insatiable lust for power, cost Song far more than anticipated. In an effort to rescue the general and his commanders, a contingent of the once-glorious Imperial Black Wind Brigade clashed with mysterious demonic entities. The resulting confrontation left them decimated, scattering the remnants of the brigade to the winds. The high-ranking commanders who remained at Ok Yeongjin's estate also met their deaths, leaving a void in the leadership.
The 5,000 remaining members of the Imperial Black Wind Brigade soon resigned in disgust at the incompetence of their new leader, Eom Ryang. Unlike Ok Yeongjin, who had been chosen for his martial prowess, leadership skills, and unwavering loyalty to the emperor, Eom Ryang's appointment was solely due to his familial ties to Eom Seung. His abilities were woefully inadequate in the eyes of the brigade's elite warriors, who chose to retire into obscurity rather than risk their lives under a fool's command.
Given the brigade's history of being dispatched to the most perilous missions, their decision was hardly surprising. A dull-witted leader meant certain death for them, regardless of how skilled they were.
The mission to assassinate Ok Yeongjin also claimed the lives of a thousand Imperial Guardsmen and twelve warriors from the Royal Guard. The losses included almost all of the Royal Guard's top-tier fighters, rendering the unit ineffective. The Imperial Guard also suffered irreparable damage. With the dissolution of these key forces that had safeguarded the emperor's authority, rebellion became inevitable.
Seizing this opportunity, Jincheonwang, the ruler of Seogyeong and overseer of 30% of the Song Empire's territory, conspired with his brilliant strategist Sun Yu and General Gwanghae of the Western Supreme Commander's Office. Together, they assassinated Marshal Gwajin and launched a rebellion.
With Song's primary forces deployed on the front lines against Liao, there was little resistance to the 200,000 elite troops of the Western Supreme Commander's Office, which had conveniently avoided sending reinforcements to the war under various pretexts. Local militias crumbled helplessly before the uprising, allowing the rebel forces to expand rapidly like a rising sun.
In desperation, the court redeployed 200,000 troops from the weakened Northern Supreme Commander's Office, exploiting the lull in Mongolian activity. These forces managed to stabilize the situation temporarily, buying time until the war with Liao concluded.
The Liao conflict ended shortly after, but the rebellion forced Marshals Jin Gilyeong and Lee Changhae to abandon their plans to suppress the Jurchens. Instead, they hastily proposed a shocking peace deal, ceding all territories east of the Songhua River to the Jurchens in exchange for their acquiescence.
With the Jurchens pacified, the Song forces returned to face the rebels in what became a prolonged civil war. During this time, Agolta, having mastered the art of large-scale warfare from observing the Song-Liao battles, unified the Jurchens and established the Jin Dynasty. This new power in the northeast, which would later dominate until its defeat by the Mongols, cemented its reputation as a fearsome tiger of the region.