["This deserves to be called the Movement Art."]

The sky had been overcast that night. An old man of exalted standing shed tears in secret. Inside his robes lay the book of the Movement Art he had kept safe from his son, Ma Jin. He treasured the secret manual his grandson had left him.

Jung Yeonshin had called it a martial art useful for keeping oneself safe, but Ma Yeonjeok's long experience in the martial world told him that was wrong. It invigorated the muscles and blood flow while tempering even the minor channels and meridians throughout the body. It transformed the flesh into a heaven-given physique—a martial discipline that refined muscle and bone. A mysterious cultivation method. A divine technique.

Ma Yeonjeok was a peerless martial artist. Even complete command of all the internal energy in his body was merely a foundation to him. That remained true despite the broken unity of his essence, qi, and spirit. Only his flesh had been declining. His body, rusted by age, could no longer withstand his domineering martial arts. His keen mind and supreme internal energy were another matter. They remained as they had been in his youth as Divine Sword Squad Leader: sharp and profound.

"Your father, you see..."

At the Desolate Fortress's Kuizhou branch, Ma Yeonjeok had suddenly sensed the Blood Flame Cult Leader's presence and summoned Ma Jin to speak with him.

"I do not regret sending my daughter away as I did. Even looking back now, there was no other choice that would have preserved Sang's happiness and upheld our family's banner."

"..."

"It would have been better if I could have killed him beforehand. Before that bastard Jeong Banak met my daughter."

"An everlasting regret."

"Yeonshin is a blessing. We must protect that child. It vexes me to have that vicious blood fiend prowling nearby. He seems to be after Yeonshin."

"Are you certain it is the Blood Flame Cult Leader? Then the Elder Council Leader must indeed be..."

"It seems Heaven has bestowed a mandate upon me. This time, I must accomplish what I could not even while leading the Divine Sword Squad."

"Can you handle him?"

"Handle him...? There is something you must remember. Few of the world's masters remain stagnant. Unless Heaven's natural order holds back their bodies as it does mine, you must assume that even the Lords of the Thirteen Skies and the Sect Leaders of the Nine Great Sects continue to grow. They are all mad for the martial path. None rests on their laurels. And..."

"...?"

"Neither do I."

He was a purple-robed master of the Desolate Fortress. Ma Yeonjeok had grasped the profound principles of the Movement Art at once. He was a peerless master whose ability to draw in and release internal energy stood in the realm of the Divine Sword Squad Leader. Seeing through the heart of its formulas, he performed the greater heavenly circuit without rest, at the speed of a ray of light.

His body gradually revived. Its effects were truly wondrous. The formulas that had accompanied his grandson through childhood caressed the muscles and channels of his limbs with a touch that truly resembled a mother's. Internal power flowed warmly through him.

Of essence, qi, and spirit, essence was the body, and spirit the mind dwelling within the head. Together, they formed body and mind. For a martial artist, qi was internal energy drawn in from the power of nature. Thus, having cultivated the Movement Art at extraordinary speed, Ma Yeonjeok once again united his essence, qi, and spirit. It happened while he was pursuing the Blood Flame Cult Leader.

At that moment, as ecstasy suffused his entire body, an insight blossomed like a lotus. Cessation, liberation, shedding the shell... Terms borrowed from Buddhist scriptures to grandly describe martial insights flitted through Ma Yeonjeok's mind. At the same time, another book he had treasured separately from the Movement Art unfolded in his memory. Its pages seemed to flutter and turn of their own accord. The words written within sank into him as complete understanding.

As the renewed unity of essence, qi, and spirit elevated his entire being, a certain discipline raced toward its ultimate perfection. It happened in an instant. A fortuitous encounter. That was what it was. Perhaps it came from having honed his heart while watching his grandson since the boy entered the fortress.

All Ma Yeonjeok needed was time to consolidate his enlightenment. It did not matter if the Blood Flame Cult Leader, foreseeing a clash between the Tang Clan and the Thirteen Skies, had already concealed his subordinates nearby. The former Divine Sword Squad Leader wagered everything.

'The Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword shall set with chivalry at his side.'

The old man resolved to burn away the threat to his grandson and the common people with his own hands. It did not matter if his body burned as well. It was what he ought to do.

* * *

In the outer garden of the Tang Clan's stronghold, Ma Yeonjeok told his grandson he would show him the Divine Sword Squad Leader.

"..."

His words silenced everyone around him.

The renown of the Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword Squad Leader reached even the fringes of the Central Plains. Those were not words one expected from an aged master whose strength had waned after a blood-soaked youth, rather than cultivating the orthodox path as the Nine Great Sects did.

"How intriguing."

A smooth voice rang out from above. It belonged to the Blood Flame Cult Leader, standing elegantly at the edge of the roof. His scarlet lips curved upward.

"Yeonjeok, Yeonjeok. I remember when you were a black-clad whelp. I can still see your youthful recklessness. You and those brats from the Nine Great Sects barred my procession, declaring you would capture me and the Pure Demon Alliance Leader. Did you not even make that ostentatious pledge, the Mount Hua Covenant?"

He was being long-winded. Ma Yeonjeok knew why. His appearance and the waves of qi alone were enough to tell him.

HISSS...

The Blood Flame Cult Leader's white hair stirred like a heat haze. Space rippled around his body like air beneath a scorching sun. The veins bulging over the backs of his pale, outstretched hands were grotesque.

His smile, paired with a faintly furrowed brow, was sinister, but Ma Yeonjeok saw it as bluster. He could not contain his power. He was trying to buy even a little time. There was a limit to the power a body could withstand.

'Even for the Blood Flame Cult Leader, who is not of human stock.'

Heaven did not permit an individual infinite power. Nor did it allow one to assimilate power instantly. A martial artist's core energy was not easily refined. Energy drawn from nature had to be cultivated over a long period through a mental cultivation method. Blood Art would be no different. Such was the natural order.

'He cannot fully withstand the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's core energy.'

There, Ma Yeonjeok saw his chance of victory.

To fully absorb the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's profound power, he should have spent well over a decade refining the core energy in closed-door training. The power inside the Blood Flame Cult Leader now was terribly unstable. Because it was not his own core energy, he could not control it with precision. That meant his forms had lost their intricacy.

The Ten Perfections Sect Leader had also put up considerable resistance. Through his eye technique, Ma Yeonjeok had witnessed their exchange. He had caught it within the world of the purple rank while rushing toward them from afar.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader, who created his own night to conceal himself, was certainly terrifying. Taking advantage of the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's energy detection being focused on Jung Yeonshin and the Tang clan head, he had used the concealment arts of his peerless Blood Art to get behind him and perform essence absorption. The Grandmaster of Blood Art had sunk his fangs in personally. It should have ended there.

It had not. A battle had taken place within a split second—a contest fought at such intimate quarters that even calling it close combat was inadequate. Standing where he was, the Ten Perfections Sect Leader had manifested armor of internal energy, raising his tangible core energy into spikes that pierced the entire front of the Blood Flame Cult Leader's body. It was control so sublime that even Ma Yeonjeok was astonished.

Even after being subdued with such dismaying ease, the Ten Perfections Sect Leader had inflicted grave damage on the Blood Flame Cult Leader. Without his regenerative ability, the result would have been mutual destruction. Though terrifying waves of qi had instantly evaporated even the blood, the impact within his body remained.

Yet he was still holding his ground. He coveted two things: the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's profound power, and the chance to cut down both the towering trees and young shoots of rival creeds. Judging solely by the energy surging like a tidal wave, he truly seemed capable of anything.

Ma Yeonjeok studied his great enemy with the eyes of a fighter facing a duel to the death. The man's blood-stained lips moved slowly.

"That Mount Hua Covenant of yours was a troublesome pledge. I wondered if I should have spilled a few more drops of blood that day and killed you all. I let seven brats escape... Three became Sect Leaders, and our Yeonjeok donned purple. When the covenant passes to the next generation, will it not stir fresh winds?"

"..."

"I know your martial prowess has recovered to a startling degree. But can you compare with that Yong fellow? With him in mind, your words are arrogant indeed. Is it because your grandson stands behind you? Such admirable spirit in a grandfather."

The current Divine Sword Squad Leader's surname was Yong. These were people at the very pinnacle of the martial world. They were bound either to know one another or to actively gather likenesses and information on each other's circumstances. It was a casual provocation from the Blood Flame Cult Leader, who anticipated a fierce battle. Ma Yeonjeok did not answer.

STEP.

Holding the famed sword Moonkeeper, he silently took one step. He had studied his enemy enough. There was no reason to grant him any more time.

The old man hoped that this duel to the death would be captured in full by his grandson's senses, unmatched through the ages. That it would become the key to guiding him into the highest realms one day.

BOOM!

One stamping step split the earth. A tremor like an earthquake spread from Ma Yeonjeok's foot. By the time the staggering onlookers regained their footing, he had already soared into the air and was floating before the Blood Flame Cult Leader.

At the roof's edge, the two peerless masters met each other's eyes. Both seemed cloaked in a transcendent presence. Beneath Ma Yeonjeok's purple sleeve, the snowy blade of Moonkeeper gleamed like a dragon's fang. An invisible, immense force encircled its long blade. Only the waves violently battering the air betrayed its presence—a vibration that seemed ready to bite through space itself.

Standing on empty air, the purple-robed old man swung his sword diagonally. With a scarlet smile, the Blood Flame Cult Leader extended his palm to meet it. His palm technique quelled the violent waves of qi streaming from Moonkeeper. It was profoundly yielding and insidious.

CLAAANG!

The Blood Flame Cult Leader's move held the intent of an ancient monster who had lived for centuries. With monstrous control, he seemed to have crammed the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's power into his palm technique. His palm met Moonkeeper's blade, yet only a mist of blood scattered.

Ma Yeonjeok's expression remained impassive. A rippling wave of force arose from his sword hand. In that fleeting instant, he had manifested the subtleties of Harmonizing Force, redirecting the immense power striking his wrist into empty air.

KRAAASH!

The roof beneath the Blood Flame Cult Leader shattered with a storm like dozens of Thunderclap Bombs detonating at once. The shock wave collapsed the six-story hall and drove down into the ground. Rolling waves of power clawed in all directions. Deep furrows raced everywhere, throwing up clouds of ocher dust.

At the center of that catastrophic explosion, the creases around Ma Yeonjeok's eyes settled. The essence-draining monster was displaying elegant Mobility Arts. With his hands clasped behind his back, the Blood Flame Cult Leader stepped from one airborne fragment of the hall to another, dazzling Ma Yeonjeok's eyes. His silken white hair fluttered gently. There was even refinement in those sublime movements.

He had suffered no disadvantage at all in that exchange. Unlike Ma Yeonjeok, whose right arm's minor channels had been strained even as his power raced toward its former peak.

'That hurts.'

So the old man thought. His wrist tingled like some troublesome chronic ailment common to the elderly. It felt as though tiny firebombs had burst inside him. The swirling waves of force were truly frightening.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader. He even possessed the power of regeneration. He was truly approaching perfection—enough to make one wonder whether he intended to challenge the Desolate fortress master.

Ma Yeonjeok stepped on empty air once more. His pitch-black eyes tracked every twist of the Blood Flame Cult Leader's bewildering course. As his gaze moved up, down, left, and right and precisely caught the white-haired beauty, one step from the old man warped space. It was a wondrous display of walking on empty air. In an instant, he blocked the path of the Blood Flame Cult Leader's Mobility Arts, arriving directly before him.

His purple robe billowed proudly. Moonkeeper gathered another fearsome wave of force, and the Blood Flame Cult Leader's white fingers moved with impudent delicacy. The white arc Ma Yeonjeok unleashed fell in a short, fierce stroke. The waves of force scattered along its sword path alone seemed capable of shattering the air. The Blood Flame Cult Leader deflected the strike, and the Burst Discharge gathered on the back of his hand exploded with terrifying power.

BOOOOM!

The deafening roar filled their surroundings. Their swordsmanship and Burst Discharge existed in an entirely different realm. Their cutting and detonating embodied principles honed to the utmost limit: a peerless realm in which a mere fraction of internal power produced the force of a thousand catties.

From that moment, the two supreme masters exchanged blows in midair. Blurred, overlapping arcs obscured the twilight, and even the wind raised by their evasive Mobility Arts swelled into mighty typhoons. The aftermath of their battle began laying waste to the Tang Clan's stronghold.

RUMBLE!

Ground neither had touched subsided. The earthquake spanned the entire outer garden of the stronghold. Ancient trees toppled here and there, leaves and all, while fragments of surging power carved deep tracks of every kind into the earth.

"Hup!"

"Aaargh!"

Some fifteen masters of the Ten Perfections Sect, Tang Clan, and Blood Flame Cult fell below them, their bodies slashed apart by blades of martial force.

Whenever Ma Yeonjeok released a wave of Harmonizing Force, the ground overturned. Immense power like a tsunami rather than an ordinary wave crushed the masters below. The old man could spare them no attention.

His inherently domineering martial arts were a poor match against the Blood Flame Cult Leader in his current state. The profound principles of Ma Yeonjeok's swordsmanship lay in wielding overwhelming power, but the Blood Flame Cult Leader was wielding the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's power as well, however clumsily. Every exchange required Ma Yeonjeok to divert that force with Harmonizing Force. He had to act twice for every move. Even so, he fought on equal terms.

He exploited gaps in forms that had lost their precision, cutting the Blood Flame Cult Leader all over his body. Each time, regeneration sealed the man's skin. Ma Yeonjeok was not unscathed either. He could not easily withstand the brutal waves of force from the blood-art core energy. Patches of blood were appearing across his sturdy body.

'What is this bastard after?'

The old man pondered. Did his enemy have the leisure to consolidate the Ten Perfections Sect Leader's power in the midst of combat? Or would he unleash a supreme move to decide the fight swiftly?

The answer was not far away. Had they exchanged about fifty blows? Suddenly, the Blood Flame Cult Leader's toes pointed downward.

"Form ranks!"

"Fall back! Poisoned caltrops on the ground!"

"Stay away from the Grand Preceptor! Don't meet his sword moves head-on!"

A chaotic melee raged below. Having lost their sect leader, the Ten Perfections Sect masters seethed with murderous intent. They seemed to regard it as a plot by the Blood Flame Cult and the Tang Clan. The Blood Flame Cult masters who had been concealed all around also unleashed Blood Art waves of force without distinguishing friend from foe. The Tang Clan, making its last stand at its stronghold, refused to retreat either. Blossoms Raining Across the Sky flew amid countless hidden weapons, making blood bloom. Everyone was hopelessly entangled.

Among them was Jung Yeonshin, single-handedly slaughtering more than a dozen Blood Master Swordsmen. The fluttering hem of his black robe seemed to proclaim invincibility. No one could withstand more than two exchanges. They had merely delayed him for a moment. He was carving out a space all his own.

"There he is."

The young Grand Preceptor lay at the end of the Blood Flame Cult Leader's path through the air. The placement of his steps alone made it plain. He was trying to unsettle Ma Yeonjeok, who had become a formidable enemy, by any means necessary.

'The Blood Flame Cult Leader.'

Jung Yeonshin had already been watching the battle between his maternal grandfather and the Blood Flame Cult Leader. Not because he had reached a realm where he could kill so many Blood Master Swordsmen without even looking at them. He was worried about his grandfather, whose words had sounded like a farewell.

Some exceptionally powerful fighters were mixed in among the Blood Master Swordsmen. They were comparable to ordinary blue-robed warriors of the Desolate Fortress. These were men who directly served the Cult Leader in a great heretical sect whose influence was said to be vast. It would have made less sense for them to be weak. He ought to be grateful that the Apostles, said to be scattered across branches throughout the broad Central Plains, could not overcome the limits of distance.

"His left rear is open!"

"Strike!"

Their coordinated assault was complex. They deployed a sword formation incorporating the subtleties of an Enchantment. Five or six swords occupied the space ahead of him, pressing in with perfect coordination. Their movements acknowledged that they were plainly his inferiors.

'The Supreme Flame Dragon...?'

The boy briefly sharpened his energy detection behind him. He felt the hot waves of the Supreme Flame Dragon's blazing yang qi. The man was desperately trying to cross over from the Tang Clan masters to reach him.

"Acting captain! Die young before I do, and I'll kill you myself! I'll be bored without you!"

The Ten Perfections Sect warriors fought with the ferocity of evil spirits. While numerous Blood Master Swordsmen held Jung Yeonshin off, the other Thirteen Skies masters clashed with the Tang Clan. Some drove swords into the backs of the Blood Master Swordsmen fighting him. It was chaos. The boy turned his energy detection forward again.

Having lost three men in the first clash, they seemed to have become extremely wary. The strongest kept Jung Yeonshin occupied while the rest darted everywhere with their lightness arts, hurling Thunderclap Bombs. There were far more than one or two.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

Their attacks made no distinction between friend and foe. Jung Yeonshin gritted his teeth. His back stung. He had instantly released the outward-spreading force of Blossoms Raining Across the Sky, but had not had enough time to execute it fully. The impacts mounted, and his internal injuries accumulated.

Even so, the boy was a Black of the Desolate Fortress. Though the waves of force and exploding Thunderclap Bombs repeatedly drove him to one knee, he etched fear into his enemies' faces. He took their heads with straight strikes of the Radiant Sword Art, while the Infinite Blossom Hand in his left hand burst apart both the enemies on the opposite side and the air around them. Snow-white sword paths and shadows of his hand erupted with overwhelming power. These were martial arts that could face an elite force of a great sect alone.

SWISH!

The boy cut upward through a cult swordsman's neck and prepared for another attack. He paid no heed to the heavy resistance transmitted to the hand gripping his sword hilt.

'He's coming.'

Wearing a smooth smile, the Blood Flame Cult Leader plunged diagonally toward him. His speed was astonishing. Was this what the old Kunlun Sect's Eight Great Cloud Dragon Forms, said to allow free movement through the air, had looked like? His smile was chilling.

Then it happened. The Blood Flame Cult Leader's red robes whipped violently. It was not wind he had raised himself. The purple-robed old man appeared behind his shoulder, his face fearsome. Following walking on empty air came Soaring Through the Void. He seemed to have propelled himself by detonating his core energy in full.

GRAB!

Ma Yeonjeok's deeply wrinkled hand seized the white hair. At the same moment, the Blood Flame Cult Leader, having sensed his approach, drove his knife hand through the old man's abdomen. The sound of protective force qi tearing and flesh splitting rang out. A broad smile spread across the Blood Flame Cult Leader's face.

"I've caught the young old man. The martial world may have feared you, but I never did. The Ma line of the Desolate Fortress has a weak spine."

The two peerless masters fell in that same posture. They touched down together with a sharp tap.

"That stings quite a bit, blood fiend."

Ma Yeonjeok's lips twisted upward. He did not release the Blood Flame Cult Leader's head. Taller than the noble blood fiend, he held the crown of his head and kindled a spark like True Samadhi Fire. It was so blue that it looked cold.

"What...?"

For an instant, strength drained from the Blood Flame Cult Leader's entire body. He nearly went limp. His eyes, beautiful as rubies, suddenly trembled. He felt it fully: a flame that exterminated demons and dispelled evil. He felt no heat. It was simply intensely blue. It was the manifestation of a martial art brought to its ultimate perfection.

Through the formulas of the Movement Art, Ma Yeonjeok had relinquished every worldly affliction and returned having brought his grandson's martial art to Great Completion. Sacred Dharma power that destroyed evil and upheld justice cast off vivid blue sparks, dancing before the Blood Flame Cult Leader's eyes. For the first time, the white-haired beauty's expression contorted.

WHOOSH!

Deep-blue flames sprang up in an instant. They were enormous, rising endlessly even after enclosing the two supreme masters. Before anyone knew it, every movement on the battlefield had stopped. The sight forcibly drew all eyes.

It lay far beyond the human realm. It was not even sorcery. It was a divine feat.

"Leader of the heretical cult."

"This... What is this...!"

"Are you not curious about the next world? Reincarnation, I mean. You too must have studied Buddhist teachings. Did you not use the Buddha's teachings to make your heresy sound plausible?"

"No. No! Don't!"

"As the Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword, I ascend to Heaven."

Ma Yeonjeok's voice rang out calmly. Slowly, the old man continued.

"I shall shed this cumbersome shell and, together with you, carve an immortal name into the world."

He seemed to have seized the realm of his prime and dragged it back to him. Overwhelming power surged in his voice. The Blood Flame Cult Leader's voice held the same power, only colored by horror.

"A Dharma-powered hand technique... The Grand Preceptor's...!"

"The Grand Preceptor? Wrong."

WHOOOOSH!

The blue flames engulfing the two peerless masters deepened. This was the form of Great Completion. The young Grandmaster's martial art manifested through his grandfather's hand, before the masters of great sects who dwelled in the upper reaches of the martial world.

"It is the divine technique of the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius."

An aged voice rang out from flames as blue as a comet. Blazing indomitable spirit accompanied its weariness.

Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike.

It pierced the gathering dusk in every direction, revealing the color of the azure sky. The radiance of a clear sky descended to earth, deep and rich. A mysterious wave swept across the ground like a gentle breeze.

"Stop! Stop it!"

The blue flame burned with sacred brilliance. In an instant, it swelled to the size of a house, as though it would pierce the heavens. The once-enchanting voice became a bloodcurdling scream.