The southern entrance of Dohwaseon.
It hadn't been long since Jin Unhui left.
Jinyang Jin-in let out a hearty laugh and looked toward the direction Jin Unhui had disappeared.
"Hahaha. I hope everything unfolds as fate intends."
At those words, a Taoist holding the Yin-Yang disk responded with a gentle smile.
"It will be so. Though we each had little talent, we all, for the first time, passed everything on to one person. He's not just a proxy, but practically a shared disciple."
"A shared disciple…"
At those words, the Taoists all smiled faintly.
Though they were cultivators of the Way, at some point, they had begun competing amongst themselves regarding their disciples.
Yet, for a common goal, they united for the first time.
Even if brief, the time felt meaningful.
As they looked at one another, seemingly reminiscing, Jinyang Jin-in spoke again.
"Now return and continue guiding your own disciples."
"Yes, understood."
The Taoists put their hands together and bowed.
Then, Jinyang Jin-in's figure grew faint and vanished.
The other Taoists also began leaving one by one using their teleportation techniques.
Just as Geomseon (Sword Immortal) was about to return to Sunyang Pavilion—
"By the way, Senior Brother, you mentioned creating a message to send outside—did you finish it?"
A Taoist with a bamboo flute at his waist asked him.
Geomseon smiled and replied.
"If everything goes as it should, I suppose I ought to leave it behind."
Only by leaving it behind could the current fate be reached.
"I was thinking the same. Since I left nothing behind in the secular world, I'm planning to send a small written insight about Yingeok. Perhaps we could send them together when our disciples go on pilgrimage?"
"Haha. That's a good idea."
"Alright. Then when the time comes, please—"
Before he could finish his sentence—
The mist at the southern entrance of Dohwaseon stirred, and someone appeared.
Geomseon and the flute Taoist were visibly shocked.
"Yangseon-ah!"
The one who emerged from the mist was none other than Geomseon's second disciple, Yeo Yangseon.
Staggering as she walked, her condition was clearly bad.
Her body was covered with sword wounds, and her face was pale and haggard—evidence of her suffering.
The flute Taoist caught her as she nearly collapsed.
"Are you alright?"
"Haah… Ma… Master…"
Struggling to speak, she gasped out her words, and the flute Taoist looked to Geomseon.
Geomseon approached and asked her gently.
"What happened?"
"Master! Aaah…"
Seeing Geomseon's face, she burst into tears.
Having been kidnapped by her fellow disciple and betrayer, Ja Gyeongjeong, her return in this state tore Geomseon's heart apart.
Suppressing his emotions, Geomseon asked,
"How did you escape from him?"
"Haah… Haah…"
Still catching her breath, Yeo Yangseon finally said,
"Master… stop Senior Brother… please stop him…"
"Stop him? What are you saying?"
"Senior Brother… the emperor…"
"The emperor?"
Hearing the unexpected word from her lips, both Geomseon and the flute Taoist looked at each other with grave expressions.
---
At the very front line of the army.
Tall banners fluttered in the wind.
The large character "皇" (Emperor) written on them was a mark that only the emperor's army could bear.
It was unusual.
For the emperor to lead the army was essentially a direct intervention.
Even if the emperor wasn't personally leading, such bold banners were never used.
Instead, the banner of a general tasked with protecting the emperor would be displayed.
But this army boldly flew the emperor's standard.
Beside it, other banners bore the name of a nation.
"Isn't that written 'Yeon'?"
Yeon (沇)?
So this army belongs to the Kingdom of Yeon?
Given the recent establishment of Yeon, this couldn't be too far in the past compared to my time.
It must be within a few centuries at most.
If I can figure out which dynasty this is, I can also figure out who exactly is leading that army.
'That's the place.'
It's almost certain now that the emperor is indeed in that army.
Usually, generals take the front lines, but here, three massive carriages—large as houses—were in the center of the formation, heavily guarded.
Focusing my perception on the army through innate qi, I saw no familiar faces.
'Hmm.'
To think they'd move around with such massive carriages…
Truly an emperor's army—far beyond my imagination.
'Fly a bit higher, Namcheon.'
—Got it.
Namcheon Iron Sword increased altitude.
Creak! Creak!
I quickly used the Art of Transforming Countenance to change my facial features.
Even though we were flying high and far enough to avoid being noticed, I had to prepare for every possibility.
—You're not getting any closer, are you?
'Of course not.'
As Namcheon Iron Sword said, getting too close was risky.
Even though we were about two li (around 800 meters) away, lowering altitude now could easily get us spotted.
—What now, Unhui?
Let me think a moment.
Rattle…!
The needle of the compass was shaking violently—proof that the sacred artifact was inside that imperial army.
And judging by its active energy, it was being used.
Which meant Ja Gyeongjeong, the traitorous disciple who betrayed Geomseon, must be there.
—What's he doing there?
As if I'd know.
But to capture Ja Gyeongjeong, I had memorized all the information Geomseon had shared about him.
—You mean that he cared for the people and had good character?
Exactly.
Most of what I heard about him was practically praise.
The more I learned from Geomseon, the more he seemed better than even disciples of prestigious sects.
He worried for the safety of the people and regretted the current state of cultivators being trapped in Dohwaseon.
—Then why the hell did he turn so twisted?
Human hearts aren't something I can fully understand either.
—So did he join the emperor?
Join the emperor?
That doesn't add up.
He often clashed with Geomseon because he believed cultivators and martial artists should act against the oppression by the imperial family from Dohwaseon.
So suddenly working under the emperor?
It made no sense at all.
—Then what if… what if he infiltrated to kill the emperor?
'Kill the emperor?'
I narrowed my eyes and looked at the imperial army's march.
That theory actually made more sense than him serving under the emperor.
With his skill and the sacred artifact, he might have considered killing the emperor.
But the imperial family is no pushover.
If the imperial court were weak, the martial world wouldn't tread so carefully around it.
—What if he's just relying on brute strength?
The imperial army is powerful, but it's said they also hold mysterious forces within.
If they didn't have means to deal with martial artists, they wouldn't try so hard to dominate the martial world.
—So he infiltrated to look for an opening?
That's the most likely explanation.
Things are becoming clearer now.
If I'm right, Ja Gyeongjeong also knew he couldn't defeat the empire with just the sacred artifact, so he infiltrated the inner circle.
Possibly gaining the emperor's trust to hatch a plan.
—Makes sense. So… are you going to infiltrate too?
That's the problem.
To capture him, I have to get inside.
But I can't just jump into an advancing army.
If they were still being conscripted or stationary, it'd be possible. But now?
—Hey, you've got the Art of Transforming Countenance.
Not right now.
Even if I want to disguise myself as one of them, I'd need them to camp for the night so I can sneak in and mimic someone.
Right now, they're marching.
—Then what'll you do?
Judging by the sun's position, it'll set in about one more hour.
Better to descend now and follow from a distance, waiting for them to camp.
Then I'll make my move.
Even with strict discipline, there's always a gap at night.
—Alright, we'll leave this area for now.
If I lower altitude too suddenly, they might spot me. That's the safest course.
But this is all rather uncanny…
At this pace, they'll eventually reach the misty forest where Dohwaseon is located.
Of course, Dohwaseon will disappear soon, so they shouldn't make contact—but the timing feels strangely aligned.
Maybe it's just coincidence.
Given Dohwaseon's position and the army's speed, they should never cross paths.
In any case, for now, my only priority is infiltrating that army…
Swoosh!
At that moment, I snatched something flying toward me at high speed.
It was none other than a long, pole-like arrow.
"An arrow?"
With such a thick shaft and incredible length, no ordinary archer could possibly shoot this.
Moreover, the direction it came from was none other than the advancing Imperial Army.
'Could it be…?'
Are you saying it was shot from two li away?
And if you account for the altitude, the distance becomes even greater.
Even for someone born with divine strength, that was too far.
To accurately target someone at that kind of range and altitude—even for a martial master who has surpassed normal limits—it wouldn't be easy.
If someone can hit a barely visible dot at that range, their archery skill might as well be called divine.
'Did that really come from there?'
It could have come from a closer range, but there was no one nearby.
Just as I was feeling puzzled—
Shu-shu-shu-shuk!!
Arrows began flying in rapid succession from the exact direction of the Imperial Army.
They were being launched from the central part of the formation.
Pah-pak!
I casually waved my hand and caught all of them.
'Could it be Ja Gyeong-jeong?'
With his martial skill and cultivation, it's possible he noticed me.
But I definitely didn't see him.
I focused my vision and stared in the direction the arrows had come from.
Near the front of a wagon as big as a house, I saw someone—just a faint dot—aiming a bow directly at me.
Though it was blurry due to distance, I was certain—it wasn't Ja Gyeong-jeong.
'He saw me from there?'
That meant he was no ordinary person.
I couldn't judge his martial power from this distance, but at least his eyesight and internal energy were comparable to a martial master who had transcended the wall.
'Namcheon, let's get out of here quickly.'
People near the archer were looking this way, sensing something unusual.
They probably didn't see me, but if this draws too much attention, Ja Gyeong-jeong might notice.
I immediately distanced myself from the army using sword-flight.
As I moved away, even I could no longer see the advancing Imperial Army.
'Damn.'
—What now?
At this rate, it's doubtful they'll camp here peacefully.
I never expected someone with such unbelievable vision to be there.
If I had stood at an obvious angle, sure, but to spot me at such a high altitude, even by chance, was incredible.
—Did he see you flying on your sword?
That's impossible.
Even with all my training and heightened senses, at that altitude I could barely make out the archer as a blur.
No matter how good his eyesight is, he couldn't possibly see something as thin as a sword.
At best, he may have thought I was just flying through the sky.
—Still, this probably made them extremely wary.
This complicates things.
Waiting for them to camp is no longer viable.
I'll need another plan. But what?
—Unhwi, look over there.
'Where?'
—Southeast!
Following Sodom Sword's voice, I looked in that direction.
I saw a group of about thirty people.
Around twenty of them were on horseback.
'Military uniforms?'
They wore armor similar to the Imperial soldiers I had seen earlier.
They must be scouts.
Otherwise, they wouldn't be heading directly back toward the main force.
'Ah!'
Perfect.
I might be able to use them to infiltrate the Imperial Army.
—What are you going to do?
'Namcheon, take us closer to them.'
—Got it.
Namcheon Iron Sword lowered its altitude and approached their direction.
From afar, I hadn't noticed, but up close, the scouts were dragging around ten people with ropes.
They clearly looked like prisoners.
Even more interesting, I thought they were ordinary scouts, but one of them was a martial master, and the others were elite fighters.
—Those bastards are brutal.
The mounted soldiers didn't care at all that their prisoners were being dragged and scraped along the ground.
One was a boy who looked about fifteen.
With shorter legs and slower movement than adults, he was being dragged with his body covered in blood—it was painful to watch.
Pop!
Without hesitation, I jumped down from Namcheon Iron Sword.
Landing directly in front of the group of riders.
Boom!
The Imperial soldiers were visibly shocked to see someone suddenly fall from the sky.
They quickly drew their weapons from their belts.
Ching!
"Who are you?!"
The martial master who seemed to be their leader shouted at me.
I smiled toward them and replied,
"You don't need to know that. But those prisoners behind you—I'm going to free them."
"What?!"
Hearing my words, the exhausted faces of the tied-up captives lit up with hope.
Now that I was up close, I noticed their abdomens were stained with blood.
More precisely—the dantian region.
They were likely martial artists whose energy cores had been destroyed.
"You've come to rescue them? Capture him!"
"Yes, Centurion!"
So he's not just a scout—he's a Centurion?
A Centurion commands a thousand troops.
No wonder his martial skills were impressive.
At his command, the elite soldiers charged at me on horseback.
I placed my hands behind my back casually.
The lead soldier, holding a spear, looked baffled.
"This fool has a death wish…"
Boom!
At that moment, I stomped the ground hard with jin-gak.
Fwoosh!
"Ugh!"
"Gah!"
A powerful wind blast struck, and the front line of ten soldiers were thrown off their horses instantly.
The eyes of the remaining soldiers and the captives widened in disbelief.
Their faces said it all—they never imagined such a powerful expert would appear.
"R-Run!"
Perhaps shaken by my overwhelming power, the Centurion quickly assessed the situation.
Even before his shout finished, the soldiers dropped the ropes binding the prisoners and tried to flee.
Snap!
With a flick of my fingers, the Centurion and ten others fainted instantly and tumbled to the ground.
Some landed headfirst and died with broken necks.
'Tsk.'
I hadn't meant to kill anyone—but it couldn't be helped.
Turning around, I saw the captives staring at me in stunned silence.
They were too shocked to speak.
As I approached them, some asked,
"Just who are you, that you would help us...?"
Slash!
"Huh?"
I didn't answer. I formed a sword sign with my fingers and slashed the ropes apart with sword energy.
They looked puzzled, so I told them,
"Enough talk. The Imperial Army is heading this way by the tens of thousands. Flee at once."
"Eek!"
The mention of thousands of troops sent them into a panic.
They must have suffered a lot to react this way.
"Thank you for saving us."
"Please, tell us your honorable name."
As I untied the remaining ropes, they asked again.
But I shook my head.
Our connection ended here, and I had no reason to reveal my identity if I wasn't staying.
After a few tries, they gave up and fled in the opposite direction, offering their gratitude.
But one person remained.
The youngest—probably fifteen years old.
The boy, battered from being dragged, looked pitiful.
"Why haven't you left?"
When I asked, he slowly got up.
Then he bowed deeply to me.
"Thank you for your kindness. But as a descendant of a martial family, I can no longer use martial arts. What meaning is there in living?"
'Hmm.'
It must've been due to his destroyed dantian.
Like the others, his abdomen was stained with blood.
Truly heartless, those bastards.
Perhaps this is why Ja Gyeong-jeong despises the Imperial Army.
I sighed and told the boy,
"Just because your dantian is destroyed doesn't mean it's over. If you're alive, consider it fate and try to live on."
Hearing this, the boy silently stood up.
Then, suddenly, he picked up a sword dropped by one of the Imperial soldiers.
And raised it—not against an enemy, but against himself.
"You brat!"
I dashed toward him to stop the sword.
Closing the distance in an instant, the boy swung the sword reflexively and shouted,
"Don't stop me!"
But as he moved and slashed, I couldn't help but pause.
'This...'
I caught his sword with two fingers.
Even without inner power, his swing was easily stopped.
Surprised, the boy gasped,
"Ah…"
I asked him,
"Where did you learn that sword technique?"
He hesitated and stammered,
"Wh-why do you ask?"
"Just answer."
Looking troubled, he finally replied,
"It's our family's sword art."
"Your family's sword art?"
"Why are you asking that?"
"Where are you from?"
"…Yunnan Province."
There was only one reason I asked.
That instinctive strike—though rough—was the basic form of Seongmyeong Sword Technique.
I asked him again,
"What's your name?"
"Why do you keep asking? Even if you saved me, I should be allowed to end my life with my own hands—"
"Just answer the question."
My voice carried a subtle pressure, making the boy flinch.
Then, watching me nervously, he spoke in a trembling voice.
"Ho… Hojongwon."
'!!!'