For a brief moment, they were stunned by the incredible sword strike. Just as the disciples of Zhongnan gritted their teeth and prepared to draw their swords—
"Stop!"
The forest trembled at the jade-like voice. An overwhelming presence of true energy was felt.
Swish.
With immense presence, she descended like a celestial fairy.
Even the realm of Soaring Steps was present here.
Jung Yeonshin gazed at the woman standing in the middle, as if mediating the situation.
'Strong.'
Her exceptionally beautiful appearance did not stand out.
Despite her delicate figure, her entire body radiated a formidable aura.
Just by standing there, she exuded an extraordinary level of skill.
"This is disgraceful. Your behavior is unbefitting of disciples of the Zhongnan Sect. Return, and we shall discuss this."
Those in charge of guarding the area bowed their heads at her soft words.
It was as if a superior had pointed out their misconduct.
Only then did they seem to realize their shame, their faces flushing red.
"We apologize, Senior Sister."
"We are ashamed."
The woman nodded in response to their apologies and turned to face Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang.
"Truly."
As she lightly parted her lips, the leaves brushed by the hem of her fluttering robes split in two.
Her entire body radiated sharp energy. Even compared to the elites of Desolate Fortress, she did not fall short.
"I am ashamed before the esteemed guests of Desolate Fortress."
"······."
Heon Wonchang looked as if he had been utterly overwhelmed.
Seeing his dazed expression made Jung Yeonshin feel uneasy, so he opened his mouth to speak.
"I am Jung Yeonshin, affiliated with Radiant Demon Squad. This is Heon Wonchang, a fellow member."
"I am Wei-Ji Myohwa of the Zhongnan Sect."
Her soft tone carried a sense of pressure. Jung Yeonshin felt it clearly.
It was not that she deliberately imposed her presence. It simply emanated from her naturally.
For the first time, he truly felt the power of the Nine Great Sects.
"Wei-Ji Myohwa······? Ha, the Sword Dragon of Zhongnan!"
Heon Wonchang's exclamation revealed her identity.
It was said she had slain the leader of a demonic cult that had run rampant in Guanzhong.
She was already a renowned martial artist whose name echoed across the world.
Wei-Ji Myohwa, the Cloud Sword Dragon.
Rumors described her as a genius sent down by heaven's mistake.
Jung Yeonshin thought that if Yoo Hyun of the Mount Hua Sect, who was sixteen this year like him, spent five more years in harsh seclusion, he might barely resemble her.
'She must have grown up and trained in Zhongnan to become the senior disciple at such a young age.'
At least four years younger than her, Jung Yeonshin felt it was not his place to have such thoughts.
Because of his short lifespan, he had grown accustomed to excluding his age from considerations.
"It's truly an honor to meet Lady Wei Ji, who is famed as the Cloud Sword Dragon."
Heon Wonchang clasped his hands in salute.
Wei-Ji Myohwa had rebuked her juniors in front of them.
It was hard not to feel admiration. Jung Yeonshin felt the same.
It was as if he had finally met a true martial artist from one of the Nine Great Sects. Following Heon Wonchang, he also joined his hands in greeting.
"It was disrespectful of Zhongnan to act so rudely. We are ashamed before you, Senior Wei."
Instead of calling her a lady or maiden, he addressed her as a senior martial artist.
She had earned the title of Sword Dragon despite not being a man.
She was a senior who roamed the martial world with a single sword.
Given her vast experience and impressive achievements, the words came out naturally.
Wei-Ji Myohwa's eyes softened.
Even Jung Yeonshin could understand why Heon Wonchang had let out an admiring sigh earlier.
"The first to draw the sword was you, but my juniors made the first move. I witnessed it all. On behalf of Zhongnan, I sincerely apologize."
Her gaze toward Jung Yeonshin was warm, and her words naturally represented the prestigious Zhongnan Sect.
Among the experts he had met in the martial world, she left as strong an impression as Cheon Joo, the Heavenly Master of the Mount Hua Sword Sect, who was considered an equal to Ma Jin.
In terms of elegance, however, she was unmatched.
"I've kept our esteemed guests standing for too long. Allow me to guide you to our sect. We can discuss your purpose there."
"Thank you."
As Jung Yeonshin bowed again and looked up, he spotted a familiar face in his field of view.
It was his second brother, Jung Jungsan, wearing a dumbfounded expression.
* * *
"Hye-ah is learning from the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan?"
"She hasn't formally become a disciple, but it's said she's receiving teachings nearly equivalent to that."
Jung Yeonshin was stunned by his brother Jung Jungsan's words as they climbed the mountain together.
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan was said to surpass even the Grand Elder and renowned master, Yeo Il-shin, as a swordsman.
Though rarely descending into the mundane world, his fame was unmatched.
Their niece, Jung Hye-ah, had earned her recognition.
Feeling relieved, Jung Yeonshin noticed Jung Jungsan glancing at him with a complicated expression.
"More importantly······ you've grown incredibly strong. A full-fledged warrior of Desolate Fortress already."
"Strong? I still have a long way to go."
Jung Yeonshin remained reserved even with his brother.
Only the fortress master of Desolate Fortress knew about his limited lifespan.
He had no intention of sharing it further.
"Jung Yeonshin's determination shines brilliantly. That's why you already wear the white robes and blue mantle of Desolate Fortress."
Wei-Ji Myohwa seemed to have taken a liking to Jung Yeonshin.
Each time she spoke, Jung Jungsan's expression shifted as if witnessing something unusual even for a fellow disciple of Zhongnan.
'It's not determination but desperation.'
Even words of praise felt difficult to accept. As such thoughts crossed his mind, their group finally arrived at the gates of the Zhongnan Sect.
"Welcome to our sect."
Wei-Ji Myohwa turned and smiled slightly. Behind her was a display of elegant and ancient pavilions.
Compared to Desolate Fortress, it was modest, yet the heritage of the Nine Great Sects could be felt in every detail.
The pavilions harmonized perfectly with the overwhelming mountain scenery, their presence extraordinary.
"The sect leader and Grand Elder have gone to battle the Tyrant Sword Tribe's patriarch. Since you are guests from Desolate Fortress, you will meet the highest-ranking elder currently present."
As she spoke, Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang thought of the unparalleled sword that had destroyed the Jung family manor, just as they arrived at a hall called Sunshim Pavilion.
It had taken several ascents over treacherous peaks to reach it.
Just then, they encountered an elderly man and a young girl walking out of the nearby training ground as if they were grandfather and granddaughter.
The girl's eyes widened.
"Uncle!"
Perhaps it was because she had been separated from her parents overnight.
Hye-ah ran toward him, looking as if her heart might burst, and he picked her up in his arms.
"Hye-ah, have you been well?"
"Uncle······."
While he exchanged tearful greetings with Hye-ah, Heon Wonchang sniffled as he watched.
After reluctantly setting down the child, who was reluctant to let go, Jung Yeonshin met the eyes of the elderly man who was staring at him curiously.
"Elder Jong, they're from Desolate Fortress."
Wei-Ji Myohwa spoke, addressing him as though he were her own grandfather.
After Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang introduced themselves with a formal salute, the elder, hands clasped behind his back, slowly opened his mouth.
"I am Jong Yeo-il."
"The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan!"
Heon Wonchang, who had been looking as if he couldn't believe it, cried out almost like a scream.
Then he quickly covered his mouth, looking embarrassed, but no one in the hall blamed him.
"Greetings to the Sword Immortal."
Jung Yeonshin calmly saluted once more.
Having seen the Lord of Desolate Fortress up close before, he felt awe but not the same level of shock as Heon Wonchang.
They exchanged a few words.
Officially, he had come to Zhongnan Mountain to check on the welfare of civilians caught in the conflicts between major sects. Privately, he wanted to confirm the safety of his family.
Jong Yeo-il, who had been quietly observing Jung Yeonshin, suddenly asked,
"How old are you?"
"······I turned sixteen this year."
"Hmm······! Would you like to see that?"
Despite Jung Yeonshin's uneasiness, the Sword Immortal raised his hand and pointed to one side.
It was a spot that had already drawn his attention.
A rough cliff face shrouded in pale mist was covered in countless sword marks.
"Elder Jong?"
Wei-Ji Myohwa called out, looking puzzled.
"Why would you mention this to an outsider? Restoring the lost technique of the Nine Yang Unified Arts is our sect's long-standing aspiration."
"The Sword Sage was not a member of our sect. He was invited to Zhongnan as a guest by our sect's founder, with whom he was close friends. He only carved his martial legacy into this mountain during his final years. It cannot be considered a secret art of our sect."
"But still······."
Her delicate brows furrowed as if she could not accept it. The Sword Immortal smiled.
"I don't have much time left. If I could witness the blade of my benefactor once more, what wouldn't I give? Although you, Myohwa, are considered the only talent capable of restoring the Nine Yang Unified Arts, I can't leave my final hope entirely in your hands."
His tone was resolute. It was clear how deeply he clung to this obsession in his later years.
"I don't understand. Even I can't fully grasp it, so what did you see in this boy, whom you've just met······?"
"Look."
Following the elder's nod, Wei-Ji Myohwa turned her gaze and widened her eyes.
Jung Yeonshin had walked to the edge of the cliff and was staring across at the rock face, his head tilted downward.
Heon Wonchang, standing behind him, looked restless as if ready to grab him at any moment in case he fell.
He was completely immersed. Anyone could see it.
'Sword marks.'
Jung Yeonshin thought. The countless traces carved into the cliff exuded sharp intent.
It looked like the remnants of sword strikes that had endured the erosion of time.
Could they be the scars left by the Sword Sage?
The sweeping marks etched into the cliff seemed beyond human skill.
Unless one could walk on air, it simply didn't make sense.
"They were left by the Sword Sage, Ou-yang Cheon, who passed away fifty-nine years ago."
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan had approached silently and spoken. Heon Wonchang jumped in surprise.
"Ou-yang Cheon, the Sword Sage!"
"Do you know him?"
Jung Yeonshin asked without taking his eyes off the cliff.
"The faction founded by his expelled disciple is the Tyrant Sword Tribe! In other words, all the sword techniques of the Tyrant Sword Tribe trace their origin to the Sword Sage!"
"That man once crossed swords with your fortress lord and later took my hand and led me up Zhongnan Mountain in my youth. Except for the Fortress Lord of Desolate Fortress, who is akin to a demon, there were hardly any who could rival him in this world."
It meant he had been an absolute master.
The Sword Immortal spoke of his regrets.
Standing at the end of life, he was like an old swordsman scattering the remnants of his existence.
All that remained for him was the sword of his benefactor. He didn't mind referring to the Lord of Desolate Fortress as a demon.
"Did the Sword Sage induct you into the Zhongnan Sect?"
Jung Yeonshin asked. The Sword Immortal nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. He carried me, a starving orphan, on his back and climbed to this mountain. He left me with the sect's founder and asked him to raise me."
"You called him a benefactor, but why didn't you learn his sword techniques?"
"······Fate didn't allow it. That's how life is. I also lacked the talent."
The Sword Immortal gazed at Jung Yeonshin, who had asked so honestly, and pointed to the cliff again.
"Countless swordsmen of our sect have tried. But no matter how broad their knowledge or high their skills, none could follow the path of that sword. The experts of our sect agreed—it would take a flash of inspiration to understand the Sword Sage's technique."
Jung Yeonshin shifted his focus slightly to see more clearly.
Amidst the mist on the cliff, a line of words was carved in a single, fluid motion.
'Whoever is worthy shall receive it.'
"It's entirely a matter of talent. Our sect's expectations rest on Myohwa. Even if she doesn't show it, I know it must feel burdensome."
Only then did Jung Yeonshin turn his gaze away from the cliff.
Wei-Ji Myohwa was wearing a strange expression.
Despite being hailed as the Zhongnan Sect's unparalleled genius, she didn't deny it.
But that was all. When their eyes briefly met, she still looked unconvinced.
It wasn't about her personality but the incomprehensibility of the situation.
Jung Yeonshin wondered if the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan might be an even greater master than his grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok.
So far, only the Lord of Desolate Fortress had seen through his essence.
'Even with such a master, is the Tyrant Sword Tribe still unbeatable?'
Whether Ma Yeonjeok's skills had dulled or the Sword Immortal's martial prowess was underestimated, for now, Jung Yeonshin was simply grateful for another opportunity to grow stronger.
As he stroked Hye-ah's head, who had come up to him and looked up with wide eyes,
"What did you see?"
The Sword Immortal asked. Jung Yeonshin silently drew his pristine white Desolate Fortress Sword.