Crack-!
“Gueegh!”
While Paeng Jeou was being beaten into a ragged mess,
everyone in the hall watched the scene with their mouths hanging open.
“…What in the world is happening?”
“Even so, that’s going too far…!”
Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the scene.
More precisely, not on the Dao King, who had been beaten into a bloody pulp, but on the young man who was tearing him apart.
The most famous young man in Henan in recent years, and a figure drawing the attention of countless martial artists.
He had seized in an instant the title of future strongest under heaven, once held by the Shinyong. Then, after revealing the power he had kept hidden, his value had skyrocketed.
An overwhelming level of martial prowess and achievement wholly unsuited to his age.
Looking upon such a young man, people had likened him to a monster, giving rise to countless questions.
At one point, he had been called the youngest Hwagyeong.
After the attack on Shinyong Hall, the boy who had been called the True Dragon became the Little Yama.
At the time, rumors had circulated that he had reached the Hwagyeong realm.
But those rumors had died down when the Alliance recognized the Shinyong as the youngest Hwagyeong.
Perhaps because of that,
there had been talk among the younger generation that the Little Yama had in fact reached the Hwagyeong realm back then.
The problem was, if that were true, why had the Alliance recognized the Shinyong as the youngest Hwagyeong?
Such questions had floated about, but none of them mattered anymore.
What mattered was—
“What in the world is that?”
The very existence of the Little Yama before their eyes.
“…The Dao King is being beaten that horribly?”
This hall was where the upper-level guild leaders, the heads of prestigious clans, and the leaders of eminent sects had gathered.
Every one of them oversaw a region or held an important role within the orthodox faction.
Yet all of them were watching the Little Yama without even being able to keep their expressions under control.
“I heard the Little Yama had passed the age of twenty.”
“I saw him during his duel with the Shinyong, but… this is too much.”
This was simply too much.
That was the impression everyone had of the Little Yama.
He was already past the age of twenty.
Aside from the Shinyong, no one had ever reached the Hwagyeong realm at such an age, yet the Little Yama’s current state surpassed even that.
The difference lay in the level of completion.
If the Shinyong had barely reached Hwagyeong and was only taking his first steps, then that one was already flying and soaring through the skies.
And he showed not the slightest retreat against the Dao King.
Boom-!!
A shockwave spread through the air.
The energy that burst forth like an explosion reached even the hall.
The Dao King, Paeng Jeou.
People said his martial prowess fell short of his reputation, but he was still, without question, a Hwagyeong martial artist.
Yet Paeng Jeou reeled as blood flowed from him after taking the Little Yama’s fist.
He was utterly incapable of resisting.
This was less a duel than a one-sided act of violence.
“…What should we even call that?”
Someone among the onlookers finally spoke.
No one could answer.
What could they call that?
Could it truly be described with the word genius?
Even calling him a monster seemed too narrow to contain what they were witnessing.
That was certainly what the Little Yama looked like now.
“…It makes no sense.”
Could this actually be an illusion or a dream?
If it was an illusion, then it was a horrific sight. If it was a dream, then it was a nightmare.
Yes, this was the nightmare of countless martial artists.
Otherwise, such an existence could not be possible.
To crush the Dao King so overwhelmingly—how could that possibly make sense?
Just as everyone seemed to share the same thoughts and could only let out low groans,
“Heh heh.”
Someone chuckled from one side. It was an old man with a head of thick white hair.
He was the Sect Leader of Mount Hua and one of the Seven Iron Three Fists among the Ten Great Masters, the Plum Blossom Immortal.
“That child has a talent for startling people every time I see him.”
He had thought he was sufficiently surprised during the previous duel with the Shinyong.
But this battle against the Dao King surpassed it by far.
‘Just how much are you hiding?’
What could that child possibly be carrying within him?
It was insufficient to regard it as nothing more than potential and brilliance.
‘Is he truly his father’s son?’
Or should he be regarded as his grandfather’s grandson?
Whatever he contained, it felt regrettable to attach any meaning to it.
Still, the Plum Blossom Immortal thought it was enough simply to witness the present moment.
‘I have seen the dawning of a new age.’
A new age moving forward.
He felt as though he was facing its very center.
That was right.
That child was the center. No matter what kind of era unfolded from here on, that child would stand at its center—or at its forefront.
Witnessing that process was enough.
Just as the Plum Blossom Immortal was reaching that conclusion,
“Judging by your expression, you’re brooding over something all by yourself again.”
“…”
At the voice that appeared as though deliberately picking a fight, the Plum Blossom Immortal turned his head.
Then he subtly covered his nose and spoke.
“Somehow… I could smell something…”
“Huh? What?”
“I said nothing.”
“I heard you perfectly. What do you mean, nothing… Ah, forget it.”
The Beggars’ Sect’s Chief, the Beggar of the Drunken Peak, U Bongchwi-gae, shook his head at the Plum Blossom Immortal’s response.
“Still, all your disciples have been eliminated… I suppose everything must be getting on your nerves.”
“…”
At the sarcastic remark, the Plum Blossom Immortal’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Just as U Bongchwi-gae had said, all the Mount Hua disciples who had entered the Martial Tournament had been eliminated.
The matchups had been a factor, but the main reason was that they had deliberately brought along children who were not yet fully matured.
With Yeongpung, who had held out the longest, now eliminated as well, Mount Hua no longer had a place in this Martial Tournament.
U Bongchwi-gae had deliberately pointed that out.
The Plum Blossom Immortal found it unpleasant for a moment, then broke into a sly smile.
“What is it? Why are you smiling—”
“Even so, we’re still a little better off than the Beggars’ Sect, which couldn’t even enter, are we not?”
“…What did you say?”
This time, U Bongchwi-gae scowled.
It was true that not a single member of the Beggars’ Sect had attended the Martial Tournament.
The reason was—
“Have you forgotten that, as long as we belong to the Alliance, we cannot participate in the Martial Tournament?”
The Beggars’ Sect was directly affiliated with the Martial Alliance, and was therefore prohibited from participating in the tournament.
“Hmm. But even if you had participated… I don’t think you would have achieved any particularly good results.”
How well could beggars really fight, after all?
The Plum Blossom Immortal dug at him in the gentlest of tones.
“You…!”
Just as U Bongchwi-gae was grinding his teeth,
Thud—!!
A harsh sound rang out, and everyone’s gaze turned back toward the arena.
“Heheh. It seems to be over.”
At the Plum Blossom Immortal’s words, U Bongchwi-gae clicked his tongue.
“…Let’s meet separately later, shall we?”
“Oh dear. Unfortunately… I have quite a few appointments today… Heheheh.”
Crack—!!
Though they continued their pointless exchange, their eyes remained fixed on the dueling platform.
They saw a middle-aged man with a massive physique collapse.
His face was so swollen that it was impossible to recognize his original features.
The thoroughly battered Dao King, Paeng Jeou, lost consciousness and fell to the floor.
“…In the end. It has happened…”
“He really won?”
Everyone groaned at the sight before them.
The Dao King had lost to a young man far younger than himself.
Those who finally confirmed that fact bit their lips.
If this happened, enormous events would unfold from here on.
It was a great calamity for the Paeng Clan.
It was also the starting point of a tremendous upheaval that would sweep across the Central Plains.
As everyone grew shocked and lost in thought while imagining the repercussions,
“Sa, Sanseo District’s Gu Yangcheon… w-wins…”
The referee was just about to announce the Little Yama’s victory when—
“…!”
“…Huh!”
Clang-! Clang, clang-!!
The martial artists inside the hall suddenly began gripping their swords.
“…This is…”
An extremely sharp aura swirled all around them.
Since everyone present was an outstanding martial artist, they all seemed to sense the same thing.
“U Bong. What is this…?”
The Plum Blossom Immortal was no different.
He was fully tensed as he began to call out to the Beggars’ Sect’s Chief, when—
Wooooooong---!!!!
Rumble, rumble, rumble---!!!
Suddenly, vibrations erupted throughout the surroundings.
“Urgh!”
“What is this—?!”
Rumble, rumble, rumble---!!!!
Had an earthquake suddenly struck?
Everyone seemed thrown into confusion, unable even to keep their balance, when—
“…What is that…?”
A few managed to steady themselves.
Among them, one of the Seven Iron Three Fists like the Plum Blossom Immortal—
the commander of the Guardian Corps, the Jinryeong Sword Emperor, widened his eyes as he gazed into the sky.
Something had begun to descend over the crystal-clear heavens.
Ziiiiing---!!!
A large scarlet line.
How had something like that appeared in the sky?
The line was long and vivid enough to cover the entire sky above them, and it began joining together in an instant.
Something gradually began to take shape.
The Sword Emperor was examining it when another event occurred.
Fwoosh-!!
“Gasp!”
“W-what is this now…?!”
A barrier suddenly appeared around the hall, beginning to enclose it.
It was the same scarlet color as the line that had appeared in the sky.
As they watched the unknown barrier envelop the hall, several people inside immediately moved.
Swish-!!
The Mount Hua’s Plum Blossom Immortal and the Sword Emperor,
along with the Alliance Leader, the Sword Immortal, moved at the same time and swung their swords together.
Kwaaaaaaaaa---!!!
Three of the Ten Great Masters joined forces and released sword qi.
An immense sword aura poured toward the barrier. Under normal circumstances, that power would have been more than enough to lay the entire area to waste, but—
Bang-!!
The sword aura struck the barrier and faded without leaving so much as a mark.
Then—
Vmmm—!!
Unable to stop the barrier’s advance, they watched as its scarlet light covered the entire hall.
This situation had arisen entirely without warning.
The Sword Emperor’s brow furrowed deeply as he confirmed it.
And it was not only the Sword Emperor.
Everyone present instinctively understood.
Right now—
Something had begun to happen in the place where they stood.
In Henan.
*****************************
Henan.
A bizarre sight had unfolded over the Martial Alliance at the heart of the province.
An old man confirmed the phenomenon spreading across the sky and smiled brightly.
“At last…!”
The sight he had yearned for above all else.
That sky was the domain of an ancient spell—a formation created through his own power.
It was the form he had finally managed to produce after sharpening and honing his craft for decades.
How could he not rejoice at seeing it?
“Ahh! At last… At last, is it finally coming to pass?”
The old man looked around with eyes filled with longing.
Countless people had gathered.
They were all descendants of those who had once borne the surname Zhuge,
people who had now hidden their names and dreamed only of revenge.
Among them, an enormous boulder was radiating light.
It was a raw stone that served as the foundation of the spell and sealed away the existence hidden beneath the land of Henan.
Six such boulders had been hidden throughout Henan, and the old man had succeeded in finding them all and carrying out the spell to release them.
“Just a little longer. In just a little while…”
They would be able to show hell to the Martial Alliance, which had plunged them into darkness for so many years.
The spell formation in the air grew steadily denser.
Watching it, the old man clenched his fists and turned around.
“Listen, all of you.”
“Yes, Commander!”
At the old man’s words, dozens of people dropped to their knees.
“The moment we have waited for has arrived. Remember the days when we lost our names and were forced by their hands to live as criminals.”
Thud-!
The heavy club he had gripped struck the ground.
“Today, at last, we will wash away the humiliation of the past and show them.”
Wooooong-!
A profound fighting spirit flowed over the old man’s shoulders.
An aura filled with resentment, rage, and deeply accumulated emotions spread in every direction. Seemingly moved by it, the expressions of the others began to change as well.
Flap-!
At that moment, the old man put on a robe.
It was ink-black, with the character “Demon” embroidered in purple on its back.
As soon as the old man donned it, everyone around him began putting on the same robes.
They were all identical.
The only difference was that the old man’s robe bore darker embroidery and an armband.
It was a martial uniform that would have stood out considerably, but there was a reason they had deliberately put it on.
“I have worn it as promised. May we begin now?”
The old man spoke while looking behind him.
A woman named Nahi stood there.
She surveyed the old man and his people, then nodded.
“Yes.”
“…When will the Cult Leader appear?”
When would the one responsible for making them wear these clothes—the Heavenly Demon—appear?
Nahi answered his question.
“He is currently occupied and cannot show himself, but he said he would arrive without delay. Also…”
Rustle.
Nahi took out a robe like the old man’s and put it on.
“He will not forget his promise… He also told you to accomplish what you desire without fail.”
At her words, the old man nodded.
It was strange that the Cult Leader had not yet revealed himself, but the old man’s mind was entirely fixed on the sky above.
At most, a quarter of a shichen remained.
Once that time passed, a great existence would descend from beneath the land of Henan.
If that happened—
the Martial Alliance, the root of the orthodox faction, would collapse, and a bloody revolution would begin.
Clench-!
The old man gripped his treasured weapon with a hardened expression, as though etching his solemn resolve onto his face.
“…Let us go. For the revolution.”
“For the revolution!”
The dozens of people began walking toward Henan as though they had been entrusted with a grave mission.
Revenge. Or restoration.
Dreaming of something, the group advanced.
“…”
Nahi watched their backs until their presence had vanished, then finally turned her head.
At that moment—
Thud, thud, thud-!!
As though they had been waiting, people landed around Nahi.
They were all martial artists wearing yellow martial uniforms.
And at the front stood a familiar face.
It was none other than the Patriarch of the Huangbo Clan, the Fierce Tiger Iron Fist, Huangbo Yeolwi.
He had appeared without warning, and now took the clothes he had been carrying and handed them to Nahi.
Swish.
As though she had been waiting for them, Nahi accepted the clothes and immediately began changing.
Thud.
The black martial uniform she had been wearing fell to the ground.
Over it, she donned yellow clothing identifying her as a martial artist of the Huangbo Clan.
After covering her face with a headcloth, Nahi slowly loosened her body and spoke.
“…Everything shall proceed according to the Cult Leader’s will.”
With those words, she began moving with the others.
According to the Heavenly Demon’s command.
To punish the evil that had attacked Henan.