It was at that moment.
Bang, bang, bang—!
The bell, which would have normally rung out clearly, resonated with an urgent tone.
The complexions of the Zhongnan Sect members present changed drastically.
"Tyrant Sword Tribe!"
"They've come again."
Wei-Ji Myohwa hastily turned her head toward the gate of the mountain.
Zhongnan Sword Immortal, who had already stepped to her side, stroked the hilt of his sword.
"Brother Jung, take good care of Hye-ah."
"Guests, please wait here."
They disappeared with astonishing movement techniques. Their speed was extraordinary.
Zhongnan Sword Immortal, in particular, seemed to vanish in an instant.
Jung Yeonshin, who briefly glimpsed Wei-Ji Myohwa's retreating figure, turned to Jung Jungsan.
"This doesn't seem like a one-time occurrence. Do they always fight like this?"
"You never know where or how they'll clash. Often, the main masters end up scattered, delivering strikes just like this."
Jung Jungsan's expression darkened. The situation of the Zhongnan Sect seemed dire.
The Zhongnan Sword Immortal, undoubtedly one of the top martial artists in the Nine Great Sects, was guarding the main sect.
It was a clear sign of insufficient manpower.
"I've seen the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord several times. Even when the enemy who annihilated their family stormed the sect, he remained composed. At the time, my feelings were..."
Jung Jungsan wiped his forehead.
Gone was the reckless older brother of the Jung family. In his place stood a Zhongnan Sect disciple full of worry.
Heon Wonchang tapped the ground with his spear.
"A disaster the moment we arrived."
"Isn't it time for the Desolate Fortress to step forward?"
"Even if Young Master Jung says so, it's not that simple. Martial artists of the Nine Great Sects become nothing but corpses without their pride. Didn't we just experience that earlier? If it weren't for Lady Cloud Sword Dragon, things would've turned disastrous."
"They don't look so relaxed, though."
Heon Wonchang couldn't refute Jung Yeonshin's last remark.
The sound of war cries gradually grew louder. The front line was being pushed back.
"It seems the Zhongnan Sword Immortal has been pinned down."
"I heard the Tyrant Sword Tribe also has an Elder Council. They're said to be a faction with some history among the Thirteen Skies. If several elders from the previous generation of Tyrant Sword Tribe join forces, even a peerless master would be delayed. This is likely how they've fought all along."
Unusually, Jung Yeonshin analyzed the enemies. It was only natural.
Since the Tyrant Sword Tribe was the family's nemesis, he had to be well-versed in their techniques, as if preparing to dismantle them.
"Don't speak recklessly about our sect's grandmaster."
It was a foreign voice.
Jung Yeonshin had already sensed it faintly.
To protect Hye-ah, who had been acknowledged by the Zhongnan Sword Immortal, five hidden martial artists appeared on the roof of the Sunshim Pavilion.
Their energy was sharp and disciplined, unlike the unorthodox Tyrant Sword Tribe.
Jung Yeonshin slowly opened his mouth.
"I don't believe I said anything disrespectful."
"Words are perceived differently depending on the listener. Do you not understand that the Desolate Fortress can never be esteemed guests of the martial world?"
Another martial artist spoke. They showed no intention of backing down.
'The Desolate Fortress has many enemies.'
It became more apparent.
The alliance interfered in disputes and power struggles throughout the Central Plains.
Naturally, even the leaders of righteous sects like the Nine Great Sects wouldn't look favorably upon them.
Moreover, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal had revealed the legacy of the Sword Sect, raising expectations.
He had called it the Zhongnan Sect's long-cherished wish. Even if it wasn't the main sect's ultimate technique, feelings would be stirred.
It was only natural that young martial artists, whose tempers outweighed their cultivation, would harbor jealousy.
Their expressions betrayed their discomfort.
"The key masters are already gone, aren't they? It seems every hand would be needed right now."
"Every hand needed? Don't insult our sect..."
Heon Wonchang's words did cross a line slightly. However, the anger of the Zhongnan Sect martial artists was brief.
Their gazes quickly shifted.
Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang followed suit.
Approaching from afar were five swordsmen, their energy surpassing that of the five Zhongnan martial artists. It was hard to believe.
Jung Yeonshin had already passed by several halls to get here, yet Tyrant Sword Tribe martial artists had managed to appear.
"Kill the child first. They're inheriting the Sword Immortal's techniques."
A man in an orange robe, seemingly the leader, spoke indifferently.
The four at his sides didn't even respond. They simply kicked off the ground. The sound of wind tearing accompanied their charge.
They were so powerful that their steps left marks on the stone ground.
"How dare you!"
The blue tiles of the roof shattered with a loud crash. The Zhongnan martial artists split the air.
Clang! Whoosh—!
The clash of techniques stirred fierce winds, whipping through their hair.
Although four fought against five, it was an even match.
Meanwhile, the most formidable-looking martial artist strode confidently through the battlefield. The Zhongnan martial artists struggled just to hold back the four.
The approaching martial artist, smirking as he met eyes with Jung Yeonshin, who was shielding Hye-ah.
"You Desolate Fortress brats. Why have you come to the Nine Great Sects? Is it to balance the scales again since we hold the advantage?"
Jung Yeonshin ignored the taunt and glanced at his second brother.
"They crossed several peaks to get here, yet the Tyrant Sword Tribe showed up. I don't believe the Zhongnan Sect is completely hopeless. These people seem to have infiltrated during the battle to target Hye-ah. Am I correct?"
"Y-yes. There's no other explanation."
While Jung Jungsan nodded blankly, Jung Yeonshin looked at Heon Wonchang.
"I need your help."
"Leave it to me."
Except for Jung Yeonshin, who remained calm, the only others who seemed composed were the Tyrant Sword Tribe martial artist and Heon Wonchang.
Heon Wonchang, in particular, even wore a faint smile, appearing strangely amused.
"Well then."
Jung Yeonshin didn't even bother responding to the enemy. When the Tyrant Sword Tribe martial artist scoffed in disbelief—
The Jung Clan's Core Energy Technique surged through his body. A heavy force rippled up from his legs, raising a cloud of dust.
In the next instant, his step struck the earth with a strength unmatched by anyone present.
The violent burst of dust scattered in all directions.
Boom!
The astonished face of the Tyrant Sword Tribe martial artist was obscured by the pristine white blade of the Desolate Fortress Sword.
From Yeonshin's fist, the shockwave of the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike surged, tilting the air.
Clang! Crash—!
With the collision, a fierce gale swept in all directions.
The other battles momentarily came to a halt.
As the leader of the group, who barely managed to block Jung Yeonshin's strike, stumbled backward, two of those clashing swords with the Zhongnan Sect disciples leaped toward this side.
Jung Yeonshin didn't stop and unleashed another strike. It was thanks to sensing the surge of Heon Wonchang's presence beside him.
Clang!
It was an astonishing force.
Through the scattered leaves, Heon Wonchang's reverse-gripped sword flashed like lightning.
Having entered a life-or-death struggle, he was entirely different from his usual self.
Clang! Crack!
The unique martial style of Radiant Demon Squad deflected the enemy's sword and struck just below the sternum.
Who knew he had already honed it to this level? His seemingly indifferent expression as he cut down enemies exuded overwhelming momentum.
The killing intent, palpable even on the skin, made it clear—Heon Wonchang's life had been anything but ordinary.
Clang! Boom!
Thoughts formed unconsciously. Thanks to Heon Wonchang, the fight stabilized into a one-on-one situation.
Continuously pressing forward, Jung Yeonshin unleashed all kinds of deadly techniques.
Radiant Demon Squad's swift sword techniques left the enemy no room to breathe.
Even fatal strikes were dodged with a single step of Splendid Wings Step, immediately followed by a counterattack.
Crunch!
Finally, Jung Yeonshin drove the Desolate Fortress Sword into the enemy's heart.
Losing initiative to Jung Yeonshin, whose upper dantian was pierced open, was like starting a match several moves behind.
The enemy didn't realize it. The Tyrant Sword Tribe martial artist's trembling lips parted.
"This... such a shallow sword..."
Spurt!
Time seemed to freeze as blood sprayed upward.
All battles came to a stop. Shock and awe filled the gazes that gathered.
Amid the deafening sound of wind brushing past the peaks, Jung Yeonshin flicked his sword and spoke.
"It's shallow. I know."
Having not properly learned any sword techniques, he had created the Swift Sword Style instead.
Looking around, he saw Heon Wonchang had already finished dealing with the remaining Tyrant Sword Tribe warriors.
In military terms, it was akin to defeating an elite detachment.
"...We overreacted. I apologize for the rudeness."
"May I ask who your master is?"
"Radiant Demon Squad Jung Yeonshin. You won't forget it. After all, it's a name that will soon echo through the martial world."
The martial artists of the Zhongnan Sect, trained in the mountains, retained a certain innocence.
Having been saved and witnessed true skill, they no longer displayed pride or jealousy, now openly marveling instead.
They even tried to strike up conversations, making an effort to connect.
This continued until the Zhongnan Sword Immortal and Wei-Ji Myohwa returned after wrapping up the battle.
"Zhongnan owes you a debt."
"I merely protected my kin."
At Jung Yeonshin's gentle words while holding Hye-ah, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal shook his head.
"Hye-ah will succeed Wei-Ji Myohwa as a pillar of this sect. While you did what was right as a relative, to the sect, this is a great favor."
"If that's how you see it, I'm grateful. In that case, may I take a moment to train here? There's no need for you to step aside. The sensations I've gained won't let me rest."
An inspiration was resonating within him, as though vibrating from the top of his head.
The setting was less than ideal, but since the Zhongnan Sword Immortal had acknowledged the favor, Jung Yeonshin seized the chance to ask.
"Did you have an insight?"
It seemed the right call. The Zhongnan Sword Immortal quickly ordered the others to step back. At the same time, Jung Yeonshin glanced at the cliff's sword marks and drew the Desolate Fortress Sword.
"Every real battle brings something new."
Thanks to the Tyrant Sword Tribe, he had refined his understanding.
The sunlight cascaded over the pristine white blade, streaming down its length.
Soon, Jung Yeonshin's arm moved, guiding the sword in strange arcs.
There was no particular force behind it, only a smooth trajectory.
The sunlight simply seemed to reflect off the blade a little more.
"..."
Even that was enough to widen the Zhongnan Sword Immortal's eyes beyond measure.
However, Jung Yeonshin's Desolate Fortress Sword halted before advancing further.
A rough breath escaped him. Moving the sword along a flash of inspiration wasn't enough.
His inner energy didn't rise as he intended.
Just as he had always crafted his own techniques, the scars on the cliff seemed to tell him to find his own path.
"I won't take the Sword Master's legacy."
Calming his breath with Jung Clan's internal energy technique, Jung Yeonshin spoke.
"It's as if it's saying, 'There's a path like this, so broaden your thinking.' That's what it felt like to me. Just my impression."
Even as he spoke, he wasn't sure what he meant.
Hye-ah, Heon Wonchang, and Jung Jungsan seemed equally uncertain.
Only the Zhongnan Sword Immortal nodded, as if understanding the true meaning.
Beside him, Wei-Ji Myohwa wore an unreadable expression.
"It's said that traces left by a grandmaster carry spiritual energy, transcending martial arts and techniques. The Sword Master must have been the same, and you resonated with it. You've been blessed by both fortune and talent."
"Ah."
Jung Yeonshin let out a short sigh and closed his eyes slightly.
"I heard he spent his later years in Zhongnan, which means he must have shared connections with Zhongnan's masters. Since his techniques are deeply influenced by Zhongnan swordsmanship, it doesn't suit my body or lend itself to efficient mastery."
He could create martial techniques tailored to himself. That made his progression faster.
This was why he didn't rely on the techniques of others.
"Master Jung, could you explain your thoughts in detail?"
Wei-Ji Myohwa's pale face gazed at Jung Yeonshin with calm focus.
Her eyes did not waver. The elegant and ethereal Cloud Sword Dragon looked at Jung Yeonshin alone.
"Restoring the Nine Yang Unified Arts is entirely up to you, Cloud Sword Dragon. I may assist a little."
"You...?"
"Wait. My training isn't finished yet."
Wei-Ji Myohwa closed her lips.
Even Jung Jungsan, who seemed about to speak, fell silent as Jung Yeonshin immersed his focus into the Desolate Fortress Sword.
When he saw the scars on the cliff, he experienced something extraordinary.
It was as if heaven and earth collapsed into a single line. All of it was inspiration.
Rather than simply extending his blade faster than others, he now understood why techniques like the Taiji Wisdom Sword and Plum Blossom Sword were revered.
Exalted swordsmanship was more than wielding a sword—it blended intention, energy, and swordsmanship into unparalleled harmony.
The Plum Blossom Sword of the Mount Hua Sect even bloomed fragrant flowers with the blade.
Such techniques embodied the essence of martial swordsmanship.
Until now, he had misunderstood the sword.
'With nothing, I could only rely on swift strikes.'
It was due to a lack of depth. Now, he understood.
Humm.
A hum resonated from his grip.
The Desolate Fortress Sword rose into the sky, cloaked in sunlight cascading down its blade.
The blade, tracing an elegant arc, fell with light, splitting the heavens and earth with a brilliant white trail.
It was a sword dance.
At that moment, the legacy of the Sword Sect master shone anew in the hands of a young master.
A sword that did not stop at inheritance but soared to another height.
Tears streamed down the wrinkled face of the Zhongnan Sword Immortal, who had witnessed the ages unfold.
"Oh, Sword Master..."