NOVPUBThe words slipped out, carried by a heart overwhelmed. The murmurs of the scribes pierced not his ears but his soul.
“They haven’t been found? None of them?”
For the first time, the boy acted on pure impulse.
To dismiss Ma Gwang-ik as irrelevant from this moment on? Such a statement could only be made assuming total annihilation.
Even if all circumstances pointed that way, Jeong Yeon-shin could not allow himself to draw that conclusion.
The Jeong Clan was nothing compared to this. Ma Gwang-ik had been his home.
“Seomye So-hyeop.”
“This is...”
“You have come where you should not.”
A few scribes rose abruptly from their seats, those who regarded Jeong Yeon-shin favorably.
Each offered either a cupped fist salute or a solemn bow, their postures upright but their expressions troubled.
Among Ma Gwang-ik’s Blue-Rank warriors, the only remaining high-level expert had expressed a judgment. It was enough to leave anyone feeling conflicted.
“Right now, the main force stands at twenty-five, excluding myself, Shin So-bin, and Tae Yeom-ryong,” Jeong Yeon-shin said, forcing his tone to remain steady.
“Earlier, I heard the Gold-Rank scribe mention something. They said two White-Rank warriors have fallen. Were they referring to Ma Gwang-ik?”
The voice had clearly reached his ears. Someone had said they were retrieving two bodies.
“...”
“Please, answer me.”
Jeong Yeon-shin stared intently at one of the scribes standing at a distance.
When the Supreme Commander, who had been radiating a heavy presence, gave a slight nod, a middle-aged Gold-Rank scribe reluctantly replied.
“...We have confirmed the bodies of Yeon Eun-eun, wielder of the Clear Cloud Sword, and Do Myeong, practitioner of Scatterfist. Unnamed disciples from the Sichuan branch reported finding them.”
The boy fell silent. The Clear Cloud Sword and Scatterfist—he knew them well.
It was impossible not to know. They were among the few White-Rank warriors of Ma Gwang-ik, alongside Hyeon Won-chang.
When Jeong Yeon-shin had first entered the fortress wearing his white martial robe, they had eagerly shown him around the place.
After his promotion to Blue-Rank, they had taken to teasing him playfully while still addressing him with respect.
A gust of energy subtly rippled.
It was not the Jeong Family’s foundational technique escaping his will, but his inner energy, shaken by his turbulent emotions, distorting of its own accord.
Jeong Yeon-shin recited the mantra of adamant resolve.
“Eung mu so ju, yi saeng gi shim.”
(Cling to nothing; let the mind be free.)
Let the heart flow where it will. It was a lesson he had first heard when creating the Demon-Destroying Azure Unyielding Palm.
It was a sermon by the Shaolin monk So Shin-seung and the Zen master Wonjong, words that had resonated deeply with him at the time.
He had since incorporated it as one of the core principles in the mental discipline he was developing.
The boy observed his pounding heart.
For the first time since entering the martial world, he felt a tempest within—a turbulent surge of sorrow and anger crashing like rapids.
No. If revenge was the goal, he could not allow himself to be swept away.
He took a step back and examined his emotions from a distance. It was a familiar practice.
It was also the way he had learned to confront fear during his constrained life.
“If it’s vengeance, then so be it. If it’s too late to save them, cutting down the enemy takes precedence.”
The boy thought like a martial artist. He methodically stripped the person, Jeong Yeon-shin, from his thoughts.
At the same time, he felt the flow of energy across his entire body settle into order. He spoke again.
“There are twenty-three remaining. When you say ‘missing,’ does that mean there has been no word—no carrier pigeons or dispatches—from Ma Gwang-ik’s main force for over seven days?”
“...That is correct.”
The Supreme Commander answered, inwardly impressed. In a world where mental discipline and energy cultivation were often treated as separate, few saw them as interconnected.
The nine great sects were exceptions, but even there, the number of vagrants who gained fleeting power without true discipline was high.
“He is excessively composed for his age.”
Looking at Seomye, the Supreme Commander thought. Whether the depth of his character was uncertain, there was a chill in his temperament as sharp as a blade.
What kind of force could such a sword unleash when combined with the boy’s natural talent for martial arts?
Even amid a storm of troubling news, the Supreme Commander of Ipwang Fortress found himself satisfied.
It was then that the boy spoke up.
“Supreme Commander.”
“Speak your mind.”
Supreme Commander Im Jin-myung answered the fortress lord’s youngest disciple.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head directly. Their eyes met.
“As a member of Ma Gwang-ik, I request permission to travel to Sichuan.”
“I expected as much.”
The Supreme Commander stroked his beard, his face showing reluctance.
Unperturbed, Jeong Yeon-shin continued.
“Assign me a reconnaissance mission. The location is contested by three factions from the righteous sects, three from the Thirteen Heavens, and even the Tang Clan. Surely the stationed forces of Changcheon Base and Shunchun Wing are struggling just to hold their positions.”
“We lack sufficient manpower.”
The Supreme Commander shook his head.
“Currently, only two squads from the Divine Sword Corps remain in the fortress. They cannot be spared.”
“...”
“As for the rest, there are scattered individuals across various divisions. Most are taking well-deserved rest. Martial strength often peaks when warriors rest properly before being tempered again. Most of these individuals have just returned from month-long missions. Even this headquarters cannot arbitrarily summon them back to duty. Such are the laws.”
His tone and intent were both clear and unyielding. Finally, with a sigh, the Supreme Commander concluded.
“At present, assembling an additional force is impossible.”
He was right. Warriors in their rest period were protected by law.
This was a unique feature of Ipwang Fortress. After missions, senior martial artists often spent time with their families, as life in the martial world was unpredictable and fleeting.
“...”
Jeong Yeon-shin closed his mouth.
It was not a matter to be taken lightly or with bravado.
Not only the White-Ranks but also the Black- and Blue-Rank forces, including Ma Gwang-ik, had vanished entirely.
It was not a simple incident that could be dismissed.
He could not leave alone, nor would the headquarters permit it.
So, was he to remain idle? No.
“If the available forces can be assembled, will you grant permission for the mission?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked. The Supreme Commander, raising his eyebrows, nodded readily.
“It is something we must consider.”
“I understand.”
Truthfully, he felt a burning desire to summon the fortress lord herself. But he dared not voice that thought.
As the guardian of the Heavenly Tree, the most sacred relic of Ipwang Fortress, no one could casually speak of her presence.
The fortress lord would not move lightly.
Even more so without a clear and grand objective like the main base of the Blood Flame Cult.
“They treat me with special care, but I must not overstep.”
The boy thought, suppressing the temptation to rely on the absolute.
“I will gather a team.”
Perhaps anticipating his words, the Supreme Commander nodded again.
With that, it was over. Jeong Yeon-shin turned on his heel. The hem of his Blue-Rank martial robe swayed sharply.
The scribes of the headquarters, silently taking in the scene, saw him off with their silence.
***
Jeong Yeon-shin did not head toward Ma Gwang-ik's pavilion. Instead, he turned in the opposite direction. Tae Yeom-ryong, who had been loitering outside with a grumpy expression, looked puzzled and asked,
“Where are you going... exactly?”
“To Ipwang Ma Clan.”
The boy’s answer was curt.
Before his return to the fortress, Ma Yeon-jeok had made a request: go to the Ma Clan and hear Ju Yeon-jeong's apology.
Grasping at straws, Jeong Yeon-shin moved his feet.
“It seems like something big has happened. Your expression isn’t normal... Oh, just talking to myself.”
Walking beside him, Tae Yeom-ryong smirked as he spoke. Jeong Yeon-shin replied indifferently.
“Your stomach has been checked. You can go back to the pavilion if you wish.”
“No, no. Let me accompany you. I hate boredom more than anything, and this seems far more entertaining.”
Tae Yeom-ryong's tone was light and filled with laughter. He seemed genuinely intrigued by Jeong Yeon-shin.
The boy didn’t react, walking silently. He had no time or energy to spare for sparring words with Tae Yeom-ryong.
After a long, wordless journey, they arrived at the front gates of the Ipwang Ma Clan.
Jeong Yeon-shin looked up at the elegant plaque. The characters read: Ma Clan Annex (마가별각).
The last time he had seen this place, Hyeon Won-chang had schemed to throw Ju Yeon-jeong into turmoil, aided by Cheongmyeong and Baek Mi-ryeo.
Every familiar corner carried the scent of Ma Gwang-ik. His heart had already reached Sichuan.
The boy resolved to use any means necessary.
“Young Master Jeong.”
One of the gatekeepers, who had been whispering anxiously with his peers, cautiously stepped forward.
He gestured discreetly behind him, his demeanor exceptionally polite.
“There was an order to escort you directly at any time. Please, come inside. However, the person with you is...?”
“A servant.” 𝓷ℴ𝓋𝓅𝓊𝒷.𝒸𝓸𝓶
“Ah, I see. Then by all means, they may accompany you.”
The gatekeeper’s smile carried a faint hint of tension. Jeong Yeon-shin nodded silently and stepped forward.
He ignored Tae Yeom-ryong, who was making a face that seemed to say he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
The scenery within the Ipwang Ma Clan was as pristine as ever.
The gardens, meticulously maintained, were lush and green, and the inner courtyard pavilions were arranged neatly.
Jeong Yeon-shin strode forward without hesitation, already having requested the presence of the elders.
“Yeon-shin!”
Word traveled fast. A young man emerged.
With sharp eyes and a handsome face, he was Ma Se-in, heir to the Ipwang Ma Clan.
The moment he saw Jeong Yeon-shin, the stern demeanor typical of a prestigious family disappeared. His radiant smile looked almost picturesque.
“I heard you returned! Since you haven’t been back for long, I was waiting to see what would happen. I imagine everyone else is doing the same.”
He greeted Jeong Yeon-shin warmly. Perhaps it was because of the words of encouragement Jeong had given him during his coming-of-age ceremony, which he now barely remembered.
Despite the influence of Ju Yeon-jeong, Ma Se-in’s fondness for Jeong Yeon-shin only seemed to grow over time.
There was even a trace of admiration in the way he looked at him.
“You wouldn’t believe how much interest there is in Ma Gwang-ik’s Seomye these days. It’s the talk of the fortress. Give it a few more days, and people will start flocking to Ma Gwang-ik’s pavilion to seek your guidance in martial arts.”
Ma Se-in chuckled. Jeong Yeon-shin gave a silent nod.
As Ma Se-in scanned him with smiling eyes, his gaze flickered briefly to Tae Yeom-ryong.
Tae Yeom-ryong, trailing behind Jeong Yeon-shin, was glancing around the Ma Clan’s pavilions.
“And the person behind you? His energy doesn’t seem ordinary.”
“A servant.”
“I see... Well, how about we talk while walking? As you know, the elders here take an eternity to prepare themselves.”
“Fine.”
Jeong Yeon-shin began walking side by side with Ma Se-in.
His eyes briefly landed on a jade stone held in Ma Se-in’s hand.
It was the size of a child’s fist, a piece of azure jade imbued with a mysterious energy. Its ocean-like hue was striking.
Noticing Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze, Ma Se-in chuckled softly.
“This is called Boryeong Jade (보령옥). It’s used to measure how refined one’s inner strength is. The warriors of our main family typically use it during mental cultivation to check their qi density.”
“I’ve never heard of such an item.”
“It’s made by the Cheol Tribe.”
Tae Yeom-ryong butted in suddenly, his mocking expression perfectly fitting the role of a servant.
“Our young master couldn’t possibly know. If you don’t have connections to the Cheol Tribe, you can’t obtain one. Plus, they’re consumable.”
“Consumable?”
“Impressive knowledge.”
Ma Se-in smiled faintly, as if he had never believed Tae Yeom-ryong’s claim of being a servant.
“Yeon-shin, this is how it works.”
In an instant, the jade in Ma Se-in’s hand cracked.
Fine lines spread across the surface of the stone, resembling parched earth in a drought.
“If you channel a precise, measured thread of inner energy into it without causing turbulence, the purer the energy, the more cracks it creates. That’s why it’s considered consumable.”
“I see.”
Jeong Yeon-shin responded. Under normal circumstances, such an item would have piqued his curiosity.
Not today.
From a distance, Ju Yeon-jeong, accompanied by several elders of the Ipwang Ma Clan and his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, approached.
“One for you. It’s quite entertaining when you observe its internal workings.”
Despite the situation, Ma Se-in handed another piece of Boryeong Jade to Jeong Yeon-shin.
Perhaps he felt a sense of debt toward Jeong Yeon-shin, who had long forfeited his claim as heir.
It seemed like he wanted to offer something—anything.
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin faced the elders of the Ipwang Ma Clan. His grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, looked as though he wanted to embrace him immediately.
“Yeon-shin, it is truly wonderful of you to come here. I see Se-in has already given you a Boryeong Jade. How splendid.”
“Grandfather.”
Jeong Yeon-shin offered a formal cupped-fist salute, causing his grandfather’s face to crease with disappointment.
And then—
“Seomye.”
A woman clad in an obsidian martial robe spoke. Her face, aged gracefully, exuded supreme dignity.
Ju Yeon-jeong, Ma Se-in’s mother and a collateral royal descendant.
She was a martial artist who had mastered the Imperial Martial Art, Golden Immortal Eight Steps (금선팔법), to its pinnacle.
Her gaze was lofty from the outset. The elders standing behind her radiated an equally imposing presence.
Each one of them regarded Jeong Yeon-shin silently.
The pressure was overwhelming. Even without intention, the sheer force of their presence washed over him like a tidal wave.
“I greet the esteemed elders of my maternal family.”
After bowing to them, the boy glanced at his right hand. The Boryeong Jade he casually held reflected a luminous moonlight.
“I have come to make a request, asserting the rights of a neglected bloodline.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly, simultaneously drawing a thread of energy to counter their oppressive presence.
Perhaps showing something might alleviate the tension.
Without the slightest ripple of energy, the Jeong Family’s inner force flowed into the jade.
The reaction was immediate. Unlike Ma Se-in’s demonstration, the jade did not crack.
It vanished.
Saaaa—
The stone dissolved into dust, rising like vapor.
The faint moonlight refracted through the powder, shimmering delicately above Jeong Yeon-shin’s palm.
