Chapter 240 – Eye-Opening (4)

Meanwhile.

The number of onlookers surrounding the vast gorge swelled to a staggering degree. The clamor grew loud and chaotic.

It seemed as though all the people of Xi’an, a city of a thousand years’ legacy, had gathered.

From wretched beggars to merchants of extraordinary bearing, they occupied every peak. Some arrived with carriages, palanquins, and silk canopies—befitting the term “procession.”

A rare and grand conclusion to a great battle.

Some martial artists, there as third-party spectators, stood with arms crossed atop tree branches or clung sideways to the gorge’s stone walls using only their feet in a wall-tiger stance.

“The stakes of Shaanxi’s power are firmly at play. Are those people’s identities still unknown?”

“A sword style emitting light… Could it be one of the Thirteen Evil Sects? Or perhaps those noble clans who only take purebloods as disciples…”

“Will the sect leaders truly die? How long has it been since we last saw these monstrous forces unite? The evil faction’s fiends possess all manner of life-saving techniques…”

Their voices rang out loudly among themselves.

“Pointless chatter.”

Reverend Remaining Earth Sect Leader Wei Ri-hwa, standing far off, twisted her lips. She observed Jeong Yeon-shin as he touched a thread sword strand.

It was not mockery. Nor did it seem like scorn.

“Did we not anticipate a life-and-death duel between leaders? Beyond displaying our martial might, the priority was to showcase the seven great sect leaders’ prowess to all. Sword Demon Sect Leader’s sudden death is hardly a significant issue.”

A trace of satisfaction laced her voice. The leader of a force that had once plunged her into ruin now focused on something trivial.

The sect leaders’ combined assault had taken perfect form, encircling the area. Wei Ri-hwa’s smile deepened.

She laughed deliberately. She wanted to witness his disgrace, no matter the form.

“You, outsider. Even in death, you will not repay your debt.”

An evil sect with a living leader never loses its lifeline. The sect leader is the sect itself.

Xi’an’s seven great factions would never relinquish their dominance.

A sharp whistle sounded.

Thick wind parted from the thread sword web Ki So-seul had deployed. It was a move imbued with the sect leaders’ intent.

The spiderweb encircling Jeong Yeon-shin from above and below mirrored the desperate obsession of famine-stricken evil faction warriors. Remarkably dense.

Bu Jo-wi and Baek Mu-ryang, poised to strike from left and right, and Kang Mu-jeong, gathering both fists in the rear for Earthshaking Thunder Wave’s opening stance, were no different.

Their upright figures and fluttering robes seemed to exude the sect leaders’ dignity.

Little White Sect Leader Jang Il-gi, with his clean-cut features, stood nonchalantly, his expression oddly serene.

‘This is a squad leader-level martial world…’

Jeong Yeon-shin gazed steadily at the six sect leaders’ faces.

Confidence, certainty, and ambition filled them. Not one showed signs of yielding.

Warriors thriving in the martial world. Rulers renowned in the raw martial realm.

The scarcer food became, the more they coveted their own strength, using it to crush their surroundings and fill their bellies.

Rivers and lakes bear surfaces swayed by even small gusts. Ripples turn into massive currents.

A strong one’s steps ripple across all directions—thus, the martial world.

A realm where martial masters, like mountain gods, wield supreme power to enforce their will.

Jeong Family Manor was no different.

It all began with a sidelong glance from Tyrant Sword Sect’s elder overseer atop a sword. What had her fleeting survey of the land’s energy wrought? The annihilation of a great landowning family.

‘Mother chose that place.’

Jeong Yeon-shin thought. He had grown fond of the Dragon Boat Festival swing he never got to ride.

He parted his lips slowly.

“You have acted as the strong until now.”

“And we will continue to do so.”

Radiant Moon Sect Leader Baek Mu-ryang replied with a hearty laugh, his tone archaic.

Jeong Yeon-shin said no more.

A faint rustle.

He gripped the thread sword strand fully with his left hand.

A sharp pain flared. It was palpable in his grasp. He drew it straight along the thread sword Sharp Thread Ghost Severance Ki So-seul had laid out.

It resembled the thread web glinting long under sunlight from all directions. As if imbued with sword energy, it was exceedingly sharp.

Blood flowed. He felt it without looking. He had gripped it too fiercely for his protective aura to endure.

Simultaneously, the thread sword’s keen strand began trembling. It met the Brilliant River suppressed within his palm. Immense vibrations spread through it.

‘Sturdy.’

No sign of breaking. He could not fathom how it was anchored. Likely a sorcery unique to the evil faction, often called unorthodox.

Clearly a form of sorcery-martial art, yet utterly natural. It swept the air like fishing lines from all directions, fluidly.

Sharp Thread Ghost Severance Ki So-seul.

Their eyes met, and she traced a faint arc with thin lips. Before her fateful encounter, she played the zither—her demeanor was indeed that of an artist.

Her pose, extending near-divine threads with both hands, was elegant. Almost leisurely.

‘One can reach such heights this way too.’

As prowess and status rose, and the world he inhabited expanded, so did his horizons. Jeong Yeon-shin’s martial world faced yet another broadening.

The new Radiant Demon Wing Leader was a supreme master, yet not a seasoned one. A rising talent just beginning to grow, he could turn all experiences into nourishment.

Even now.

“His senses are bizarre! Do not let him act as he pleases!”

Wei Ri-hwa shouted from across. Confident in their advantage, she remained vigilant. Her caution against a supreme master was meticulous.

It meant experience. The sect leaders shared it. They unleashed sinister energy waves from both front flanks.

“No need to escalate to Earthshaking Thunder Wave. It’s a combined assault from the start. We have to abandon pride, we must kill him swiftly.”

Great Wind Blade Freak Bu Jo-wi muttered through thick lips. Raising a massive foot slightly, the lower thread swords parted left and right. He stomped down without hesitation.

A heavy thud!

With the tremor, Bu Jo-wi’s upper body lunged forward. The broadsword, lifted from behind with both hands, soared and fell.

The surrounding thread strands scattered in all directions as if alive, while the nearby bushes sank outward.

Jeong Yeon-shin regripped Northern Light Sword, previously blocked by the lower threads.

The moment he reversed the hilt’s orientation, he thrust it upward as if flicking it off the threads. No formal technique guided the strike.

One prepared a blade technique fully, the other raised an impromptu defense.

The instant his vision whitened with blade light.

A resounding clash!

A massive impact struck. It radiated sharply from between his thumb and forefinger. The energy anchored at his elbow’s Chize point held firm.

Recoil surged into his forearm. Simultaneously, muscles honed by Jeong Family Dynamic Technique pulsed, tendons tightening sharply.

Gripping the hilt fiercely, his energy merged fully, soaring into overwhelming sword force.

A booming crash!

A mere upward push, yet it roared. Northern Light Sword’s tip grazed Bu Jo-wi’s blade tip, unleashing a colorless wave.

The finesse born of ancient talent was equally peerless in raw power. The balance of energy, muscle, footing, and body existed in a different realm.

Especially pronounced against lesser foes. Bu Jo-wi could not immediately counter his talent’s inferiority.

A low whoosh!

Bu Jo-wi’s form flipped, briefly airborne. Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his sword, glancing up at him.

The wind billowing between them ceaselessly swayed the surrounding bushes. It might have looked like a dance urged on by the spectators.

“What kind of sword energy is this!”

Bu Jo-wi shouted swiftly via voice transmission, still unable to stabilize midair.

Though directed at Radiant Demon Wing Leader, it was meant for the other sect leaders. A signal for follow-up strikes. Urgency tinged his tone.

This was indeed the Radiant Demon Wing Leader. Unmatched in one-on-one combat.

Jeong Yeon-shin read it too. The flow confirmed it. The other sect leaders likely knew as well.

***

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Translated by Nine Heavens!

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***

A rapid rustle!

From the left, robes fluttered fiercely. Two held the vanguard from the start.

Alongside Bu Jo-wi, Baek Mu-ryang blocked the path to Ki So-seul, Wei Ri-hwa, and Kang Mu-jeong.

A seasoned master. Protecting the rear threads, observation, and decisive strike, he displayed impeccable responses.

The moment Jeong Yeon-shin prepared a successive strike, Baek Mu-ryang pierced the breath’s gap.

It followed Wei Ri-hwa’s short whistle. Likely a signal for the optimal moment.

A sharp whip! A thud!

Beneath his palm, a low strike surged. Xi’an’s seven greats’ Radiant Moon Tyrant Technique was said to counter all directions.

Its redirection was swift. Adept at varying techniques.

‘These foes have deep energy reserves. Single strikes won’t kill them.’

As Jeong Yeon-shin raised his left hand, thread sword bundles closed in from all sides.

They blocked his vision, glinting in succession. Advancing further would cut him. He had to pause.

Simultaneously, Baek Mu-ryang’s feet crossed twice on the ground. His move grew strange. Palm technique afterimages swelled as if wielding phantom swords.

He unleashed accumulated energy waves from the clash with Bu Jo-wi all at once.

Shockwaves resounded from everywhere. His ears tingled.

A thunderous roar!

Wei Ri-hwa, now charging forward, slashed downward. Her brocade sleeves fell in line with the blade.

A fiercely refined horizontal strike. The air-rending sound was deafening. Her face, half-smiling, half-grimacing, gaped wide.

From the right air, Bu Jo-wi descended, gripping his broadsword with both hands.

He had regained proper stance. The blade wave’s clamor thundered. Clearly a timed strike.

The tide shifted rapidly.

The tightening thread web, three distinct techniques erupting from the front, and the woman at the rear, now twisting her waist as if finishing energy accumulation.

Strong. A combined assault unlike any seen.

Far above their subordinates. As rumored, sect leaders monopolized elixirs, secrets, and benefits.

Worthy of discussion in the martial world’s evil faction. True evil sect leaders.

A shrill cackle!

A bizarre laugh burst from beyond Baek Mu-ryang’s shoulder. Ki So-seul’s guffaw as she controlled the threads.

Amplified by voice transmission, it sounded eerie. Was it meant to curse them with resentment even crossing the Three Rivers in death?

A faint rustle.

Jeong Yeon-shin placed a left finger on a thread tightening toward his skin. Abruptly, Ki So-seul’s lightning-like laughter ceased.

A resonant hum!

A translucent boundary line emerged along his hand with a reverberation.

Soon, like tearing window paper, a solid line curved gently downward following his finger.

Through the gap, radiant hazes slowly emerged.

Then, Jeong Yeon-shin’s grip pierced the sorcery-martial boundary, seizing the thread bundle Ki So-seul had deployed. Tracing it by feel, he grasped it.

Radiant Demon Wing Leader thought idly.

‘It looks fun, so it’s rightfully mine.’

Lightning-like brilliance flared from his Baihui point. The energy threads he had sent unraveled Sharp Thread Ghost Severance’s technique.

Where it bent, how it anchored, and which angles moved energy to achieve its intent.

Understanding born of energy sense streaked like lightning. Unfathomable sorcery parts were substituted with inner energy finesse.

A talent living ten days in one blazed like lightning in his mind. It shattered the cliffs between normal progress and time, reducing them to futile ashes.

Thus, abruptly.

He decoded the strange weapon. A comprehension akin to mechanical formations. Exceedingly precise.

Seizing control of the threads was simple. His inner energy projection had always outmatched Ki So-seul’s.

Following the light wheel spinning in his heart, the Luminous Wheel that Transcends Law energy surged like waves.

Simultaneously, Ki So-seul’s energy scattered from the thread strands.

The next moment.

Sturdy threads wove all directions with radiant beams. Space seemed sliced dozens of ways.

A deep hum!

The Brilliant River’s resonance stirred from the thread strands. Metal strands vibrated in unison along his fingers.

Unable to pierce joints sharing the same energy wave. Instead, they seemed to serve a new master.

They whispered to Jeong Yeon-shin. Lightly touch with fingers, flick energy briskly.

A sensation from his grip to his mind. Vividly clear.

‘Like this.’

Following it, he brushed his hand delicately as if playing a zither. The thread strands sang soft golden notes in succession. Deep resonance.

Simultaneously.

A fiery surge!

Golden threads exploded upward. His upper dantian’s incandescent sense halted time purely in thought.

His move was lightning-fast. It ensnared Wei Ri-hwa, Bu Jo-wi, Baek Mu-ryang, and dozens of paulownia trees like a net.

The evil sect leaders were bound instantly, pinned to tree trunks, as the thread beams cast indifferent radiance in the sunlight.

“Ki So-seul! What are you doing!”

“No, this is… insane…!”

“Aaagh! Mine! Mine!”

Bu Jo-wi shouted convulsively as Wei Ri-hwa’s eyes bulged. Ki So-seul collapsed, shrieking like a madwoman.

Only Baek Mu-ryang, his beard fraying strand by strand, stirred energy waves with a blood-soaked body.

From afar.

A deep inhale.

Time-Sun Mountain-Crushing Fist Kang Mu-jeong’s long breath faded faintly, as if seeping into her soul. She locked inner energy within her body, adding a trace of immense force.

Instantly, the surrounding air shifted. Winds blowing with her fist’s domain reversed upward like a tide.

A blazing roar!

Earthshaking Thunder Wave’s charge completed.

Her momentum erupted belatedly, exuding explosive presence.

Her vivid red robe stood out starkly as Kang Mu-jeong leaned forward boldly, thrusting a fist.

A straight punch staking everything. The opening stance was flawless.

The colorless, blazing fist energy bombardment recalled Shaolin’s Hundred Steps Divine Fist.

A deafening crash!

Jeong Yeon-shin’s black sleeve fluttered at the same moment.

A soft step.

He stood atop a thread strand.

Instantly, the massive golden thread web moved wholly, blocking the front.

Reversing the energy wave structure of the sixty-four trigrams-based fist, he positioned defenses. A counter-net rose between him and Kang Mu-jeong.

A resonant hum!

At the midpoint, colorless waves rippled. The fist energy passing through the golden net shattered like foam. A fantastical sight.

As shock first crossed Kang Mu-jeong’s ever-calm face, a radiant strand coiled diagonally around her body.

“Too light. It won’t work on a supreme master.”

It only adds restraints. Radiant Demon Wing Leader, hands clasped behind his back atop the threads, murmured. His resolute gaze sharpened like a blade.

“Wait… If you kill us like this, Xi’an’s order will…”

“I am Radiant Moon Sect Leader of Xi’an. I can offer you much.”

“Give it back! Return my Radiant Net!”

Tree trunks. Wei Ri-hwa, Baek Mu-ryang, and Ki So-seul, bound, each spat different pleas. Heaven-Soaring Blade Sect’s Bu Jo-wi tersely mouthed “kill me.”

Superiority flipped to inferiority in an instant. A supreme masters’ life-and-death duel was this unpredictable.

“My sect’s foremost principle is not capture.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.

Like when Jeong Family Manor fell to Tyrant Sword Sect. Desolate Fortress, a neutral great faction, leaned closer to evil faction methods in combat. Unlike officials.

The martial world was a savage realm, governed strictly by survival of the fittest. Desolate Fortress sought no redemption for powerful martial artists.

Those wielding mountain-god-like power plundered, killed, and enslaved commoners.

Eliminating future threats benefited the people. That was Desolate Fortress and the nation’s stance.

“You’ve had your fill of enjoyment. Now die.”

A soft step.

Radiant Demon Wing Leader’s leather shoe trod another thread strand. The evil sect leaders had no time for regret, remorse, or relief.

Ki So-seul’s earlier laughter rebounded as Jeong Yeon-shin intended. All they took to death was despairing faces.

A gushing spray!

Blood spurted in all directions, scattering dry winter grass upward.

Simultaneously.

The gorge fell silent.