“······.” Dressed in pure blood attire and wearing a demon mask, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly stepped forward.
In this moment, he had to act as one of the top late-stage disciples of the Blood Flame Sect.
He had heard from the Seven Sages that pure blood attire was a treasure bestowed upon the disciples. ‘My martial arts are still not at the level of a disciple.
I must act like Go Jong-hak.’ There were nobles within the Blood Flame Sect as well.
Families that had existed as long as the sect's history naturally formed their own privileges.
The son of the Third Sage was one of them.
Go Jong-hak.
He was someone who had constantly kept an eye on Jeong Yeon-shin within the sect.
He had died while trying to force a boy who had not yet mastered martial arts to absorb rare energy.
The memory of severing his neck came to mind.
Jeong Yeon-shin decided to disguise himself as that person.
With a leisurely gait, he straightened his upper body.
He displayed a demeanor as if he were surveying the world.
He hypnotized himself.
There was no one outside the sect more noble than he.
Everyone else were insignificant insects.
He approached Namgung Mi, who was seated at the top, without hesitation.
He measured the atmosphere without revealing his intentions. “Hmm······.” “You don’t seem to be of ordinary status······” The guests who claimed to be righteous martial artists were unable to move.
They must have known it was the Blood Flame Sect.
They were overwhelmed by Jeong Yeon-shin's appearance and energy.
There were not many who could stand against the local martial artists.
He was currently utilizing the Mara Hongyeol Gong at the level of the Blue Realm of Iphwangseong.
He looked down at them.
The Hyun Sa Mun were those who had long hidden in the shadows of the sect.
They did not display the same fervor they had when shouting in response to Namgung Mi's words.
There were hardly any martial artists who could show their spirit in front of Jeong Yeon-shin.
The Namgung family was different. “A blood demon like you is here?” “Are you perhaps a descendant of a disciple?” The martial artists of the Namgung family immediately stood up to draw their swords, but Namgung Mi smiled mysteriously and raised her hand slightly.
Her smooth and white fingers, delicate as a flower, stopped them. “I like the color of the peach flesh.” Jeong Yeon-shin said.
He still contained his energy in the blood vessel of his neck, Yeom Cheon.
With a deliberate sound of rupture, a strange voice came out with a deep resonance.
He leisurely approached, arriving close to Namgung Mi's left diagonal direction.
Swiftly, he picked up a peach.
Rather than fighting recklessly, he aimed to distance the current identity of the Blood Flame Sect from himself.
Even if the energy was different, the physique could not be changed.
He had to avoid recalling the delicate beauty of Iphwangseong. ‘I must act in a way that is disconnected from myself.’ For the first time in his life, Jeong Yeon-shin wanted to provoke someone else.
He did not feel confident.
Would he be able to do well? “This is a precious fruit for these lowly creatures.” He raised his indifferent tone slightly.
He wanted to speak arrogantly.
It felt more comfortable than he had expected, which puzzled him. “······.” No one except the masters of the Namgung family raised their heads.
It seemed unexpectedly understood.
He wondered how he appeared to them, wearing the precious pure blood attire and the demon mask while utilizing the Mara Hongyeol Gong.
Did he appear to them as a complete noble of the Blood Flame Sect? At that moment, Namgung Mi's lips moved. “I was going to take it myself. That white peach flesh doesn’t suit me?” She crossed her legs slowly.
Their eyes met, and she smiled faintly.
Her words flowed smoothly. “A blood demon is pretending to be a noble clan in front of me. Perhaps you feel inferior to your main family? You’re speaking without knowing your place.” “Your tongue is long.” “What?” “A head that will soon fall is talking too much.” Jeong Yeon-shin said leisurely behind the demon mask.
Then he moved his hand.
He tossed the peach he was holding at Namgung Mi's neck.
He paid no mind to the sounds of disbelief around him.
She did not dodge and stood up.
The fallen peach flesh was lightly trampled on her fine leather shoes. “I heard you came to suck up some rare energy after hearing rumors.” She said with a smile. “Kill him.” As she finished speaking, she gathered her energy throughout her body.
She recalled the energy that the blood-clothed demon had shown before her.
He was someone who was hard to let his guard down around.
She planned to use the martial artists of the Changryeonghwa as her limbs to gauge his full strength. ‘Before that.’ She intended to first slow down her body with energy.
The coldness of the Inhyeongseolsam surged from her lower abdomen.
As she endured the pain that felt like her blood vessels were burning, the moment she raised her hand, frost formed around her body.
It was a shimmering wave of multicolored light.
From appearance alone, it matched her nobility.
She believed her utility would be the same.
Wham! It was in an instant.
The moment the white mist burst from Namgung Mi's entire body, the demon's body jolted to a stop.
The chill of her energy was faster than any sword strike.
She smiled faintly and stepped back, her movements graceful.
The martial artists of Changryeonghwa surged from all directions.
In an instant, chaos erupted.
Food and drink scattered everywhere as the sounds of sword strikes rang out loudly.
Bang! Jeong Yeon-shin felt the vibrations that traveled up to his right hand, which held the sword.
One attack was fast, but he blocked it with the blade of an iron sword that had not yet been fully drawn.
His movements had certainly slowed down.
What had penetrated inside him was not ordinary coldness.
It seemed he had to understand it as the nature of the Iga Jungsoobub.
Even so, his strength remained unchanged. “Your swordsmanship is poor.” Jeong Yeon-shin said calmly from behind the demon mask.
His defense did not waver.
The moment the Namgung man flinched, he did not hesitate to slap his face with the back of his left hand.
The sound was loud.
He felt his jaw lock, and he sent the man flying. “Huh!” It was a dying groan.
His eyes rolled back as he fainted and flew away.
Jeong Yeon-shin realized the moment he struck.
He could manage without using the basics of the Iga martial arts.
He had become quite strong.
At the very least, he had far surpassed the level of the blue realm.
He did not stop and moved forward.
He could clear away any blind swords that might come flying at him.
He was grateful for Namgung Mi's decision to use her subordinates as consumables. ‘I must fight like this.’ It was the moment he greatly raised the flow of the Mara Hongyeol Gong. “Sword Formation!” Another Namgung man shouted.
His voice was urgent.
Sword formation.
A tactic where several sword wielders gather to enhance the connection of their techniques.
It seemed they had decided to join forces upon seeing Jeong Yeon-shin's movements.
Before long, a separate world unfolded far away.
It was a duel between five Changryeonghwa warriors and the demon mask.
Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes.
The Namgung men swung their swords while occupying the entire front.
He immediately responded with the Quick Sword technique, but the movements of the iron sword provided by Namgung Mi matched the speed of their attacks.
Gradually, his entire body began to ache.
It was an incredible erosion of coldness. ‘I’ve become very dull.’ It was of no concern.
Moving slowly, he combined evasion and counterattacks.
The sense of measuring their movements reached the realm of instinct.
Despite the dull sensation on his skin, he was extremely sharp.
He dodged the five sword strikes by a hair's breadth and pushed in his own strikes.
Once, twice, five times was enough.
Jeong Yeon-shin pulled the iron sword from the abdomen of the fallen martial artist.
This was the last one.
Slowly, blood flowed from the blade, creating a stillness.
The pure red robe seemed to wrap around a noble aura.
The blood of the Changryeonghwa warriors appeared as dirty stains. “······.” While everyone held their breath, Namgung Mi still did not move.
It was a battle of masters.
A hasty intervention could only disrupt their own side.
She was the master of Changryeonghwa.
It did not matter how she used her subordinates.
She was content to watch how long the enemy's display of power would last.
Only then did Namgung Mi take a step forward. “Your training in the arts doesn’t seem deep.” She spoke as she slowly approached. “Your sense of distance is quite remarkable. You measure the timing well. Is it innate?” Her tone was relaxed.
It was because she had confirmed the increasingly sluggish movements of the demon mask.
The energy of the Inhyeongseolsam, forged through pain, was that powerful.
It was energy that had reached a different realm.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood still, gazing at her.
A sensation akin to frostbite swept through his entire body.
Even though he had been exposed to a single strike, the aftereffects were significant.
It was as he had expected; if he had not mastered the Jeongga Donggong, he would not have even thought of challenging her. ‘I cannot use the Iga martial arts.’ He could not unfold new techniques in this place.
It was a martial art with distinct characteristics.
It could only be executed at a moment when revealing one’s identity was permissible.
Step, step.
Namgung Mi approached with a smiling face.
She did not appear to be a woman caught off guard, yet she effortlessly crushed the timing.
Her confidence in her cold energy was truly immense.
It was a martial art worthy of it.
She completely understood her own internal energy.
She had accurately perceived the state of Jeong Yeon-shin, who was gradually losing his balance. “Let’s see.” She stepped closer like a lover and reached out her snow-white hand.
She lightly touched the demon mask covering Jeong Yeon-shin's face. “Starting with that ugly face.” Her lips formed a delicate curve.
It was a gesture that seemed utterly defenseless.
Her wicked nature was evident.
It was an act that offered unparalleled humiliation to an opponent who had mastered martial arts. ‘Enough.’ Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
Discussing ten seconds was the matter of a formal duel.
He had no intention of treating her with a righteous attitude.
He had intended to reveal a gap and draw her in, but he never expected her to come this close.
Jeong Yeon-shin's world was different from hers.
It was a struggle for survival.
He wanted to easily defeat an opponent he had never encountered before. ‘I can do it.
Tae Yeom-ryong is stronger.’ The internal energy density of Hwangbo So-gaju, who had refined the innate heat of the Sun God Meridian, was even higher.
After seeing him, Jeong Yeon-shin recalled a technique he had been inspired by.
It turned out that many of those called masters in the martial world could use this technique. ‘Sammaejinhwa.’ She had been casting it since the moment she stepped forward.
It was a technique that vibrated from the smallest unit of energy.
Movement immediately triggered the energy.
It was different from the immediate heat release of Tae Yeom-ryong, who was born with the Sun God Meridian.
It was the delicate manipulation of energy by a master.
Wooong.
It was a resonance within his body.
He felt it clearly.
The coldness of his entire body’s meridians crackled and ignited.
His body, hardened like steel through the Jeongga Donggong, could withstand the heat and vibrations, and the flow of the Mara Hongyeol Gong spiraled destructively throughout his body.
He felt a crackling sensation throughout his blood vessels, including the twelve main meridians and the eight extraordinary meridians.
He could do this all day.
He did not let the enemy discover his thawing within.
Jeong Yeon-shin immediately activated the Ma Gwang Gyeol.
The moment the upper Dantian in his mind shone brightly, the Ma Gwang Ik Iga martial arts absorbed all kinds of information.
The postures of the two, Namgung Mi's breath mixed with laughter, and even the gaze fixed on the mask.
Within that, an invisible trajectory arose.
It was the mind's light net visible only to Jeong Yeon-shin.
It was a Ma Gwang Gyeol technique.
The boy followed suit.
From his right elbow, he barely moved his shoulder at the end.
Swiftly.
Just before Namgung Mi could remove Jeong Yeon-shin's mask, he grabbed her neck.
It was an entirely natural movement.
Namgung Mi's solid confidence, the Ma Gwang Gyeol technique that advanced from the corner, the timing that converged into nothingness, and the rapid acceleration of the cold energy all intertwined to create a scene of a split-second moment.
Ma Gwang Ik Seomye was a fighter. “······!” Her smooth neck was caught in his firm grip.
Namgung Mi's eyes widened in shock.
Had she ever experienced being subdued so absurdly in her life? She had neither heard nor seen such a thing.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his mouth. “I command you, noble of the world’s bloodline.” “Huh······!” “You, the lowly offspring of Namgung.” At his words, the blood energy responded.
It felt as if his body, polished by the Jeongga Donggong, was being fully opened.
The intention forming the technique added to the mental image of this moment. ‘I said I would give various humiliations.
To the mother of Namgung So-hyeop.’ It was said that a person without flaws committed all kinds of atrocities.
Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
Perhaps he was more dignified than this Namgung Mi.
It was a thought he had never had before.
An arrogant notion sprouted in his mind.
He said, “Kneel.” In front of many.
The moment he spoke with sincerity, he felt a strange sensation.
The energy flowing from the Mara Hongyeol Gong was slightly amplified.
It meant that the amount of energy had increased.
The flow of energy, like a torrent, seemed to smile mischievously.
It was as if it was saying this was how blood energy should be operated. ‘This is also enlightenment.’ Jeong Yeon-shin opened his mouth once more.
This time, he fully contained his contempt. “What are you doing, lowly creature?” “Th-this······.” Namgung Mi could not continue her words.
She showed no signs of movement.
The reason was that the moment he grabbed her neck, he had marked her with blood energy.
It meant he had paralyzed her body with blood marking.
Even if she wanted to kneel, she could not.
The control of her body was in Jeong Yeon-shin's grasp. “You’re not moving. You’re quite resilient.” “Cough··· cough······” The boy, holding Namgung Mi's neck, laughed softly while wearing the demon mask.
The hem of his pure blood attire fluttered like blood flowing down to his feet.
It was a bizarre and mysterious sight.