Soon, cheers erupted from afar.
Even the masters trained in the Nine Great Sects, who were generally reserved and mindful of decorum, joined in.
Most of them were young martial artists who were acquainted with Jung Yeonshin.
They seemed to be the ones who had guarded Jung Hye-ah.
"Your nickname is Lightning Genius, right? It's a fitting name."
"Radiance Sword Style. It's just as I've heard."
"Truly a mysterious and splendid sword technique. And powerful, too."
"If it's Wei Mu-hyeok, he must have been a late-stage prodigy raised with the hopes of the Tyrant Sword Tribe..."
A showdown unfolded before their eyes. Even the elders and masters remained still.
As morale soared endlessly, Jung Yeonshin's focus sharpened.
'Tyrant Sword Tribe.'
The front was completely different now. A small commotion broke out.
Though it wasn't large, the air of bewilderment couldn't be concealed.
The disciple of the sect leader had been beheaded in just two exchanges. And the opponent was of the same age.
"Such a thing is impossible in this world."
"How could Mu-hyeok not even resist..."
"Kill them all."
The final words came from the mouth of the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader.
His voice, which refused to allow a drop in morale, swept across the plains like a thunderous wave. A tremendous energy weighed down the air.
"Yeonshin! Come back!"
It was Heon Wonchang, shouting his friend's name as if in desperate urgency.
Their eyes met the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader's. He stood still, with his sword embedded in the ground.
Despite the death of his disciple, he seemed indifferent.
Jung Yeonshin exaggerated his lip movements.
'I will take one of your arms, no matter what.'
What an absurd act of bravado. Jung Yeonshin knew this, too. It would be nothing more than amusement to the opponent.
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader's face. He even let out a brief chuckle.
At the same time, a vibration like military drums spread from the Tyrant Sword Tribe's formation.
Jung Yeonshin's Radiance Sword Style had ignited a war between sects.
The Zhongnan Sect also surged forward like clouds, as if to protect their vanguard.
"Ahhhh—!"
Among those silently traversing space with incredible lightness techniques, there were also shouts.
The voices, imbued with energy, echoed in all directions, making the plains feel like narrow canyons.
Amid the raging waves of energy, Jung Yeonshin struggled to maintain his focus.
'So this is a battle between masters.'
He didn't take his eyes off the Tyrant Sword Tribe's forces as he retreated. The distance seemed to disappear in an instant.
A master approached from the front, shaking the earth with tremendous momentum.
His dignified beard fluttered, and his large frame radiated domineering energy.
'Not ordinary.'
One look was enough to know he was an elder-level master.
A martial artist who had spent decades honing advanced techniques, considered among the best in the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
Jung Yeonshin was not yet capable of handling such an opponent.
"I'll kill you—!"
He looked as if he might be Wei Mu-hyeok's grandfather, his glaring eyes burning with fury.
A master of the demonic sects, he would show no mercy just because Jung Yeonshin was young.
"If you had trained him better, it wouldn't have ended in two exchanges."
"You dare!"
Jung Yeonshin's words were like a spark igniting gunpowder. An immense killing intent poured forth.
That was enough. He had provoked him deliberately to heighten his focus.
'This is now a battlefield. Any tactic is fair.'
He twisted his body to create space. From behind, a Zhongnan Sect sword master brushed past, their robe fluttering.
"Thanks to you, I've set the stage for this fight."
"Kuheok!"
With those words, the Tyrant Sword Tribe elder was sent flying backward.
An overwhelming wave of energy erupted from the Zhongnan Sect master's palm, sweeping the surroundings.
A brutal clash marked the beginning of the war between sects. Finally, a great battle between the Tyrant Sword Tribe and Zhongnan Sect commenced.
Jung Yeonshin's eyes scanned the area. To make a contribution, he needed to find enemies he could handle.
'There are many.'
Fortunately, many young masters, unable to control their bloodlust, were charging forward.
Jung Yeonshin immediately kicked off the ground, heading for the flank.
"You bastard!"
He had already drawn enormous attention and was now a primary target for the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
The number of enemies rushing in with drawn swords was not small.
'I can handle this.'
They were all young. Naturally so.
The elder-level and veteran masters were already clashing, having sensed each other's auras.
Letting even one opponent slip past them could mean the massacre of their disciples.
Whoosh!
As Jung Yeonshin unleashed the energy of the Jung Clan Dynamic Arts, a formidable wave of force rippled out.
His fluttering robe was proof of his continuous growth.
Today, he did not wear the Desolate Fortress uniform, having joined as a guest fighter for the Zhongnan Sect.
If there was a second battle, he would wear it then.
The first attacker wielded a spear.
Its blade carried an energy strong enough to warp the surrounding air. He was on a different level from the martial artists of the Praying Mantis Sect.
Clang!
The rotational energy surrounding the spear was severed by the strike of the Desolate Sword.
While the enemy's eyes were filled with shock, the faint glow of Radiance Sword Style swept across his neck.
'Two.'
Once immersed in battle, Jung Yeonshin no longer saw his enemies as people.
Achievements were counted in numbers. Those who hesitated with morals or compassion would not survive here.
Clang! Thud!
Amid swirling dust, white sword light flashed in all directions.
His upper dantian emitted an intangible light, covering every angle.
Even surprise attacks from behind were immediately deflected, followed by swift counterattacks to the neck.
It felt as if he had complete awareness of his surroundings.
The sense he had gained from the Praying Mantis Sect was proving invaluable in this group battle.
"Coordinate your attacks! Don't charge recklessly!"
"His footwork is mystical! Watch his legs carefully!"
The Tyrant Sword Tribe disciples eventually formed coordinated attacks against him. The combination of Splendid Wings Step and Radiance Sword Style was astonishing.
Slowly completing himself as a martial artist, Radiant Demon Squad's Jung Yeonshin, known as Lightning Genius.
With Heon Wonchang covering his back and assisting, Jung Yeonshin's performance stood out among the young Zhongnan Sect disciples.
The Desolate Sword didn't stop shedding blood until the great battle reached a lull.
* * *
The first clash ended in victory for the Zhongnan Sect. They said the initial surge of momentum had been crucial.
Jung Yeonshin had become a well-known figure in Zhongnan Mountain. All the martial artists of the Zhongnan Sect showed admiration and respect.
"I have some hidden liquor that even the masters and elders don't know about. Care for a drink?"
"You say the sparring appointments are piling up? I must be late."
"The female disciples of the Poetry Pavilion seemed interested in you, but I firmly rejected them. Isn't our swordplay discussion more important? Hahaha!"
Even responding to all the attention was exhausting.
Walking along a forest path, Jung Yeonshin recalled his conversation with Yeo Il-shin.
Yeo Il-shin had said that if Jung Yeonshin wished, she could reveal the reason behind the Jung Family's massacre at any time.
His second brother already knew.
Jung Jungsan had chosen not to tell his younger brother, and Yeo Il-shin hesitated to bring it up herself.
They said it would be better to hear it after this great battle was over.
'I doubt it will be much of a shock.'
He thought it might just be needless worry.
Though he ran desperately to avoid the approaching death, those who knew nothing often treated him like a child.
The enemies did too. At least it was satisfying that he could kill formidable foes like the Blood Flame Cult swordsmen with ease and claim the achievements.
"Just in case."
He muttered to himself, clearing his thoughts.
There was no need to let anything disrupt his focus in these fleeting battles.
Rather than dwelling on the massacre that had already happened, his mind leaned more toward the revenge to come.
They said inner demons often struck suddenly. It would be enough to hear the story after leaving Zhongnan Mountain.
"Master Jung!"
From afar, Heon Wonchang waved his hand. Jung Yeonshin approached with a faint smile.
"Do you happen to have ties with the senior masters of Zhongnan Sect?"
"What's the matter?"
"Two renowned masters from Xian have come. They asked if you'd like to train together. Said they have an interesting method of practice."
The martial artists who had come with Yeo Il-shin from Jung Manor crossed his mind.
The ones who nodded without hesitation when she proposed Jung Yeonshin's entry into Zhongnan Sect.
They had even helped recover the bodies at Jung Manor. He had caught glimpses of them during the first battle.
"Are their nicknames Cliff Sword and Natural Spirit Fist?"
"Hah, your reputation precedes you. No need to worry about dying alone in the wilderness. Even the Sword Immortal treated you like his own grandson, and now you're being considered as a guest of the Zhongnan Sect."
Heon Wonchang spoke with an envious expression.
Come to think of it, this journey through the martial world had been very different from his first venture.
He had forged many ties with senior masters from the Nine Great Sects, people rarely seen even in civilian life.
"It's been a while since I last saw them."
Jung Yeonshin stepped forward with a leisurely stride.
The white clouds glowing in the sunlight approached gently.
It was peaceful—until the second battle began.
Three days later, the Tyrant Sword Tribe appeared on the Central Plains once more, their swords sharpened.
One look at their formation was enough to feel it.
Even though they were a demonic sect, most of their martial artists' expressions were obscured, as if they had no humanity left.
"This won't be easy. Even the few old men of the Elders' Council have shown up."
The Zhongnan Sword Immortal spoke gravely. Gu Yang-cheon nodded slowly.
"If we win here, it ends."
"Myohwa, take care of the disciples."
"Yes, Elder."
Wei-Ji Myohwa replied calmly, but her expression was different from before.
Her pale face now glowed brightly.
It was as if she had cast off the burdens of her inner conflict, and her entire being radiated strength.
It was a clear and intense wave of energy.
Standing among them with the honor of great achievements, Jung Yeonshin met her gaze.
Wei-Ji Myohwa's lips curved upward.
"Good luck, Master Jung."
"I hope you stay safe as well, Sword Dragon."
Jung Yeonshin responded evenly and turned his head.
There was no time to worry about a martial artist stronger than himself.
Just then, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal gripped his shoulder.
"Watch out for the Blood Fiend Demon Sword. He's Wei Mu-hyeok's grandfather."
"The Tyrant Sword Tribe elder from before?"
"Yes. I couldn't finish him off and had to face that Elders' Council bastard. He wavered, but even while blocking my sword, he seemed focused on you."
"He ranks higher than the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader but acts like his right hand on the battlefield."
Wei-Ji Myohwa added with a worried expression.
"Thank you for the warning."
Jung Yeonshin nodded as the second battle began.
This time, there was no prelude.
The Tyrant Sword Tribe charged recklessly with their lightness techniques, driven by desperation.
This war for survival was nothing like the romanticized tales of the martial world.
With interests, honor, and lives at stake, time and space compressed in the minds of the martial artists.
Clang! Boom!
"Poetry Pavilion, gather! Form a sword formation here!"
"Ahhh!"
Jung Yeonshin soon found himself in the heart of battle, wielding his Radiance Sword Style.
The scent of blood became familiar.
Amid the swirling waves of energy from masters attacking from all sides, he had already lost count of how many he had cut down.
"There's no need for words!"
An old man, his clothes tattered from battle, exuded an overwhelming presence.
The Zhongnan Sword Immortal's warning was accurate.
It was the Tyrant Sword Tribe elder, the Blood Fiend Demon Sword, his sharp eyes fixed on Jung Yeonshin.
"So all demonic sects are the same? Shameless."
"I'll crush you."
Jung Yeonshin instinctively knew—provocation was more effective than anything in chaotic combat.
Even as a seasoned elder of the Thirteen Heavens, the old man moved like a lion fixated on its prey, seemingly intoxicated by his own strength.
His vision had narrowed completely.
He could feel Heon Wonchang and the Zhongnan Sect masters approaching to assist.
Jung Yeonshin gathered his inner power to its limit.
Clang—!
The sword strike he narrowly dodged was immense.
Even without touching the ground, the impact left a crater.
The elder's attacks flowed relentlessly, like an endless tide.
Jung Yeonshin dodged with his Splendid Wings Step, exposing his side momentarily.
"This brat—?"
Thud!
The moment the elder's brow twitched, Jung Yeonshin's palm strike sent his body flying.
Energy exploded from the elder's side, but Jung Yeonshin stabilized himself with his inner technique.
With his opponents held back by Wei-Ji Myohwa and the others, he burned every one of the elder's moves into his memory.
'He's furious. That makes him easier to read.'
He memorized everything—the grip on the sword, the movements of his muscles when channeling energy, even the minute habits in his steps.
By the time the elder tried a desperate move, sacrificing an arm to wound Wei-Ji Myohwa, Jung Yeonshin was ready.
With his perception heightened, he saw the elder's final strike before it came.
His sword flashed, cutting through the elder's technique and slicing his neck.
Splatter—!
In the midst of the storm of energy and blood, silence fell around Jung Yeonshin.
He looked at the Tyrant Sword Tribe leader, who fought Gu Yang-cheon and now glanced his way with visible unease.
Grabbing the elder's severed head, Jung Yeonshin lifted it high and spoke.
"Tyrant Sword Tribe leader. I told you I'd take your arm."
His voice, amplified by energy, echoed across the battlefield, freezing many warriors in place.
Jung Yeonshin asked calmly.
"Does this count as your arm?"