"Buddhist martial arts! Truly······!"
Won Jong exclaimed in shock upon seeing Jung Yeonshin.
His wrinkled eyes trembled as if he were overwhelmed. On the other hand, the Seventh Apostle seemed more composed.
"Easy to handle? From what I see, it's merely a technique at the level of Shaolin martial arts, just slightly strong in blood techniques. It's not enough to surpass the difference in our skills. You're still far behind, so naive. Quite adorable."
The Seventh Apostle spoke with a faint smile. At the same time, her figure seemed to vanish in fragments.
The fiery energy wave that erupted as if she had made up her mind was overwhelming. This time, even Jung Yeonshin couldn't react.
Boom!
Ma Jin intervened. The clash between the two top masters distorted the atmosphere.
Ma Jin, taking a single step forward, exuded a fearsome aura.
The captain of Radiant Demon Squad appeared to possess enough power to push back the Seventh Apostle's hand.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Radiant Demon Squad captain. It seems you've invested quite a lot in that fledgling Lightning Genius."
"Shut up."
"Strike."
At the Seventh Apostle's brief murmur, the followers of Blood Flame Cult responded. It was a signal to incite chaos.
They surged forward, surrounding them with militant pressure.
The sheer numbers made it feel as if they were in the middle of a war.
Scarlet heads appeared in every direction. The sharp edge of countless weapons echoed from all sides.
Jung Yeonshin saw eyes widened with madness.
Each of them bore red pupils, something beyond human.
Creatures like the fiends he had seen at the Jung household were everywhere. He tightened his grip on his sword.
Clang!
He struck upward. One of their sabers shattered completely. He stepped forward and slashed its neck.
The moment he felt the blade catch on bone, it smoothly cut through, entering the realm of Ascending Sword Techniques.
The Desolate Sword in his hand began to trace its path, emitting a dim light.
'Radiance Flow.'
Light flowed like ripples. Everything that followed became a sword strike.
The Radiance Sword Style forged on Mount Zhongnan carried an unbroken rhythm. It was different from when he only used Swift Sword Styles.
He could cut down five heads while surpassing three blades without exerting much force.
"Seal his hands!"
"Drive a blade into his neck!"
The Blood Flame cultists were insane. They attacked with methods that defied imagination.
Throwing themselves forward was standard. They grabbed at his limbs, attempting to exploit every weak point.
Some even flung coins like hidden weapons, each imbued with inner energy, forcing him to either block or evade.
As Jung Yeonshin stepped into a crescent-shaped ring using Splendid Wings Step,
"Lightning Genius! This way!"
Baek Miryeo's shout was drowned out by the strikes of the Blood Master Swordsmen. There were too many.
At least twenty of them were formidable enough to reign as kings in smaller groups.
'Ma Jin is tied up with the Seventh Apostle, and the Blood Masters swords outnumber the blue robes.'
Jung Yeonshin assessed the situation through his instincts for group battles.
Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo were said to be exceptional even among the blue robe elites.
The other blue robe members were also holding their ground against multiple Blood Master Swordsmen.
The only concern was himself.
He activated the incantations of Infinite Blossom Fist Strike with his left hand. His clenched fist burst forth, shattering the strikes in front of him.
At the same time, the air twisted violently. The first layer's Formidable Wall strike crushed both the ring and a head in one blow.
Thud—!
Was the opponent just about to transform into a Blood Master Swordsman? The rebounding force from his punch was considerable.
Yet, it was still a single strike.
Even the Radiant Demon Squad captain, who was somewhat closer, looked at him in astonishment.
'Still not enough.'
It was impossible to turn the tide of this situation. He lacked the strength to dominate the battlefield in the realm of supreme masters.
That role belonged to the black ranks of Desolate Fortress. Unless Ma Jin killed the Seventh Apostle, resolving this situation easily was out of reach.
Slash!
With a single swift strike from the Radiance Sword Style, another head flew off.
The opponent didn't even notice the sword's approach before dying.
At the same time, Jung Yeonshin sank inward.
The martial art that had flared when he seized the Seventh Apostle's dagger had subsided again.
He couldn't summon it at will. It seemed the incantations hadn't fully materialized yet.
"Haaaap—!"
An aged shout echoed.
It came from just to Jung Yeonshin's left.
Turning his gaze, he saw Won Jong delivering palm strikes with a shout.
The energy wave wasn't particularly strong.
'Wasn't he said to be a martial monk?'
He had heard that monks explored the principles of martial arts and incantations.
It was said Shaolin's strength stemmed from such individuals.
However, martial monks rarely made names for themselves in the martial world.
And then,
"You can't even handle one of them?"
"Kill the old monk first."
Two Blood Mastre Swordsmen approached Won Jong.
Attacking monks was taboo, regardless of the era.
Yet, these enemies showed no hesitation.
The doctrine of the Blood Flame Cult defied the norms of the world. That's why they were labeled as heretics.
Jung Yeonshin swept his surroundings with all his senses.
Somehow, he had drifted far from the Radiant Demon Squad.
Having a wide perception? In the chaos of masters clashing, adjusting distance as desired was an entirely different issue.
At this moment, he was the only one who could help Won Jong.
He kicked off the ground, the wind he created brushing past his eyes.
The figures of the smirking enemies grew larger.
A faint light rippled at the edge of his vision—the precursor to Radiance Sword Style forming on the Desolate Sword.
He split the sharp gust sweeping over his hand.
Swish—!
The strike of the Radiance Sword Style pierced through one enemy's forehead just as he turned to look.
He collapsed instantly.
The sword didn't stop.
He spun and clashed with the second opponent, who had already braced himself.
Clang!
"What kind of swordsmanship······!"
The Blood Cult swordsman's eyes filled with shock.
Jung Yeonshin had no leisure. The fact that the opponent could speak meant he still had energy left.
The Blood Flame Cult relied on their numbers.
Because they were heretics, they spread even wider. It was ironic.
"Monk! Head north!"
Jung Yeonshin finally made a decision.
Before the ambush, Ma Jin had mentioned the Yitian Clan.
If they had foreseen being scattered like this, it was worth considering it as an option.
He kicked the enemy's knee following the Radiant Demon Arts' form.
It was a strike amplified by True Energy.
With a dull thud, the enemy collapsed, and he sliced through his neck while passing by.
Slash!
Won Jong, who had been obscured by the enemy's body, came into view.
His eyes were wide open.
"I suspected you were no ordinary talent when you faced Gak Jeong, but······! How can someone your age wield such martial arts······."
"It doesn't matter. Let's move."
The battlefield kept expanding.
Because Radiant Demon Squad and Shaolin were strong, it grew even more.
The Xinye White Martial Sect was already out of sight, and before he knew it, they had reached the market streets.
"How far do we go?"
"Ask them!"
The Blood Flame Cult seemed determined.
A hundred of them weren't the end.
Seeing the endless waves of Blood Flame cultists, one might wonder what the local soldiers were doing.
Jung Yeonshin hadn't expected Xinye County to be this rotten. At this point, it was a full-scale war in the martial world.
Fortunately, their escape route was favorable. They had passed by the tavern where the Radiant Demon Squad had stored his belongings.
They retrieved two fine horses and mounted them without hesitation. Jung Yeonshin wasn't worried about the others.
'If I can escape, so can they.'
Among the masters assigned to this mission, only Heon Wonchang was weaker than Jung Yeonshin, and even that didn't concern him much.
Heon Wonchang was a master who overlaid Killing Sword Techniques on the Radiant Demon Arts, meaning he was an expert in death-dealing techniques.
It was a swordsmanship style that showed great effectiveness in chaotic battles.
"This way!"
Jung Yeonshin spurred his horse, with Monk Won Jong following closely behind. The clatter of hooves echoed down the streets.
Every house had its doors locked and shrouded in fearful silence. Jung Yeonshin felt a pang of guilt but quickly thought of his companions.
Going back would only burden them. The Seventh Apostle was still a master he couldn't handle.
Avoiding a battlefield where he couldn't protect himself was the best way to help.
The old monk who had briefly joined their group seemed to understand this. Riding alongside him, Monk Won Jong spoke.
"They don't seem to be chasing us."
"It's hard for even the Blood Master Swordsmen to be faster than horses unless they're experts in lightness techniques, and we killed two of them."
"You did."
With that, the monk fell silent, seemingly deep in thought.
Jung Yeonshin didn't dwell on it and instead mapped out Henan Province's geography in his mind.
Although maps of the Central Plains were treasures accessible only to higher ranks of Desolate Fortress, Ma Jin had briefed him on key areas for this mission.
'We'll need to cross the river.'
Soon, their horses reached the riverbank, fully out of Xinye County.
"There, let's take that."
"That flower-viewing boat?"
Reluctant to abandon the fine horses, Jung Yeonshin spotted a leisurely cruise boat nearby.
It was a large, decorated vessel with a canopy, seemingly designed for springtime festivities.
However, the recent chaos made it difficult to let their guard down.
"Come here."
Monk Won Jong spoke with an authoritative voice imbued with inner energy.
"What did he just say?"
Jung Yeonshin murmured.
The monk, devoted to Buddhist practices and martial arts, seemed inexperienced with worldly matters.
Despite spending over a decade in meditative seclusion, the monk had a peculiar side to him.
Perhaps his status before becoming a monk had been of noble lineage.
The boat turned and approached them. Jung Yeonshin's brows furrowed slightly.
Ten warriors stood guarding the vessel, and two young men and women with peculiar smiles gazed at them.
In an era where swords were expensive, finding guards with both skill and loyalty was rare.
'Heirs of a noble family? They seem properly trained in martial arts.'
The sight reminded him of Jin Yul, who had approached pretending to be friendly before attempting an assassination.
The boat, now closer, loomed larger. Its polished wooden structure exuded luxury. It was anything but ordinary.
It wasn't the young noblemen holding wine cups who spoke first.
"It seems the venerable monk needs companions for his journey."
A young lady, appearing to be the daughter of a noble family, stood up and approached the railing.
She looked about eighteen, adorned in elegant attire befitting her dazzling beauty, and seemed to be the group's leader.
To Jung Yeonshin, her appearance was irrelevant. His eyes focused on the sword hanging at her waist.
Energy emanated from it. She was a martial artist. Which sect did she belong to?
He spoke to her directly.
"The monk is deeply committed to his training and may have overlooked etiquette. We ask for your understanding."
"What nonsense is this?"
Monk Won Jong turned abruptly, but the lady laughed aloud.
"It was getting a little dull, so this is amusing. Would you care to board? As you can see, there's plenty of room for two horses."
She didn't radiate an overwhelming aura. Jung Yeonshin gave a slight nod and stepped onto the boat.
Ignoring Monk Won Jong's sharp glare, he took in the interior, which was even more lavish than the exterior—more like a banquet hall than a boat.
Young men, mostly around the lady's age, offered slight nods instead of standing to greet them.
Seated at the head, the lady tilted her head.
"This is the gathering of the Young Talents of the Profound Martial Alliance. My peers call me Sword Blossom."
The title referred to a flower skilled in swordsmanship, but Jung Yeonshin focused on something more important—the martial world had just expanded.
The Profound Martial Alliance. Another faction among the Thirteen Heavens, said to rival groups like the Tyrant Sword Tribe and the Blood Flame Cult.
It was a gathering of promising talents from unorthodox sects.
'No successor of the Alliance's leader seems present.'
No one appeared particularly formidable. Perhaps Jung Yeonshin's standards had risen.
These people were likely the Alliance's up-and-coming talents.
A nobleman seated near Sword Blossom leaned back casually.
"You seem to be a martial artist from Desolate Fortress. What brings you to cross the river in such haste?"
"There's a group of Blood Flame cultists rampaging nearby. We fled while the monk was delivering a sermon."
Jung Yeonshin stated the facts while observing their reactions.
The Profound Martial Alliance, though not a single unified body, often collaborated with other factions.
They likely already knew about the events in Xinye County.
Indeed, faint smiles spread across their faces. The nobleman smirked.
"The fact that Desolate Fortress is bowing to the Thirteen Heavens is quite entertaining."
Laughter erupted across the deck. This was no casual outing for nobles.
Their mocking tones filled the air with arrogance.
"Did you know? Bloodsucking demons worried about small fry like you running away. I didn't expect even a Shaolin monk to get caught."
"This is the perfect place to silence someone."
Sword Blossom smiled faintly, her words referencing the river below, where bodies would be hard to recover.
The boat drifted further from shore, leaving no escape.
"Amitabha."
Monk Won Jong murmured a prayer, while Jung Yeonshin quietly grasped his sword.
"You don't seem frightened, young one."
Sword Blossom murmured as she gripped her sword.
"Shall I spill some blood in advance?"
With a light tone, energy surged from her slender figure.
Her sword struck immediately, but it veered toward an unsuspecting maid carrying food.
The maid's eyes widened in terror, clearly uninvolved.
This was why they were considered unorthodox—they treated lives as trivial.
Already in motion, Jung Yeonshin stepped forward, shattering the wooden deck beneath him.
He gently pulled the maid aside with his left hand while advancing.
Like mist rising from the river, rage accompanied the Radiance Sword Style's strike.
The glowing blade streaked like lightning, deflecting her sword and slicing her throat.
Slash—!
'Huh?'
He was stronger than he had thought. Ignoring the rolling head, he straightened his stance.
"Don't try anything."
His calm words froze the others, their weapons trembling.
The mocking atmosphere was replaced by fear and panic—their strongest fighter had been Sword Blossom.
"How could such swordsmanship······."
The nobleman stammered, while the others couldn't even speak.
"Her name was Sword Blossom of the Cheng Family Manor! Aren't you afraid of the consequences?"
"You should worry about Desolate Fortress's consequences. You tried to kill us. For now, row north. We'll decide your fate later."
Sheathing his sword, Jung Yeonshin looked indifferent.
'The Alliance must have stronger elites elsewhere.'
Perhaps his expression betrayed his thoughts, as the nobleman's face flushed red.
"She was from the Cheng Family Manor! Do you not understand that?"
"We didn't exchange introductions."
Jung Yeonshin tapped his sword hilt lightly.
"Radiant Demon Squad, Lightning Genius."