A pair of pitch-black leather shoes stepped onto the dirt ground. Pine needles and frost crumbled together beneath the soles.
A boy, clad in a black long robe that covered his entire body, was climbing the slope. With only a travel bag slung over one shoulder, he slowly looked around.
Despite it being winter, the mountain's greenery stretched high and proud. It was a sight befitting the tallest peak of the Jinryung Mountain Range.
Jung Yeonshin breathed in the cold air.
Each time his translucent breath escaped between his lips, it turned white under the sunlight.
The rays that slipped through the trees along the ridgeline were warm yet piercing, like the fleeting life of a seventeen-year-old martial prodigy destined to die at nineteen.
From the vast nature spread before him, he felt life. This place harbored an extraordinary presence of earthly energy.
'Taebaek Mountain.'
It had risen to fame overnight, drawing all of Shaanxi's attention.
The scale was unmatched.
It was said that all those who wielded power across the vast land, nearly as expansive as an entire kingdom, had gathered here.
Unlike Jung Yeonshin, who kept his energy subdued, others had no such reservations. Their waves of internal energy blanketed the mountain range.
It was, quite literally, a sea of people. A countless multitude had swarmed in.
Men and women alike, their appearances varied greatly.
Some carried greatswords on their backs, others had daggers hanging from their sleeves, the sword belts of some bore elaborate tassels, while others exuded a heavy aura, their hands wrapped in iron gauntlets. Some moved in disciplined groups, their uniforms signifying affiliation with renowned sects.
Among them were properly trained swordsmen from prestigious lineages, as well as vagrant warriors who traded martial skills for mere salt and provisions.
Even without close scrutiny, the killing intent lingering around some was evident.
Some masked their hostility, while others openly displayed it, each wary of the other.
The air itself felt the same, reeking of metal and blood. Even the wandering fighters drawn by mere rumors of the spiritual herb had tasted blood before.
The scent of death, indelibly seared into their inner energy. Just as it lingered on Jung Yeonshin's Beiming Sword.
He reached the entrance to the mountain. The broad mountain path was packed with martial artists, creating a boisterous scene.
"Just in time. No one's coming down, are they? I haven't heard of anyone getting picked yet."
"Don't trust the rumors. Trust no one here."
"Look at that spectacle. Even noble warriors from great clans couldn't keep their pride and had to come."
With such a massive crowd, snippets of conversation flooded the air.
People sized each other up, studied their breathing, and exchanged information. The battlefield had already begun.
"They say noble sons and daughters from the Ice Palace are climbing the mountain one after another."
"You mean the Ice Palace? You must be joking. This is Shaanxi, not Beihai. How long has it even been since the rumors of the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu started? There's no way word traveled that far so quickly."
"Joking? Do you even understand what kind of event this is? The immortals of Mount Hua Sect and even the Tyrant Sword Tribe's leader are rumored to be coming! What exactly is impossible here?"
"Don't throw around words like 'freezing to death' so carelessly! You might summon the Ice Soul Divine Palm! That's a terrifying curse to bring upon yourself!"
It was clear that the crowd wasn't made up of just Shaanxi locals.
Countless dialects mixed together, some nearly incomprehensible.
It was undoubtedly strange.
Ming's lands were vast beyond measure. Even Shaanxi alone was large enough to rival an entire foreign nation.
Just traveling to the heart of these rumors should have taken an incredible amount of time.
Yet even Jung Yeonshin, who had learned of the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu early through the Radiant Demon Squad, found the mountain peaks already swarming with people.
His gaze swept over the surrounding warriors.
At a glance, many appeared extraordinary, but most seemed more concerned about food than martial prowess.
'Perhaps it will be different higher up. It seems even the masters of the Demonic Faction have arrived.'
Jung Yeonshin stepped forward, weaving into the crowd.
But he did not blend in easily.
As warriors exchanged words amongst themselves, more and more people stole glances at the unfamiliar boy.
It was not because of any discernible energy.
His jet-black hair cascaded to his shoulders, shimmering naturally in the sunlight. Beneath thick brows, kissed deeply by the sunlight, was a rare and striking face that drew attention.
A visage that grew more distinct the closer he edged toward death.
Just like his ever-changing limbs, shifting day by day.
His appearance was already different from when he first attained his black rank. Only his gaze remained cold and solitary.
"A noble?"
"No, look at his ears."
"Seems to be of high status. He looks like he knows how to wield a sword. Probably a disciple of some prestigious sect."
There was much murmuring.
But it did not last long.
Rare appearances were nothing compared to the truly esteemed and inhumanly powerful individuals gathered here.
Predicting each other's martial prowess and surveying the mountain itself took priority.
Above all, the stranger's age was too young.
"Even children among the swordsmen... Everyone's climbing this mountain, aren't they?"
"Just worry about yourself. How many roots of the 'He Shou Wu' do you think there will be?"
"You have a good sense of seniority, my friend."
More and more people ceased their idle chatter and continued their ascent. Their vigilance sharpened.
Their eyes, carrying hidden intentions, swept over those around them as they climbed. Ready to draw their swords at any moment.
"So those remaining have given up the search. They're planning to intercept whoever brings the 'He Shou Wu' down."
As Jung Yeonshin took another step forward without concern—
"Young hero! No, my lord!"
He sensed it before hearing it. The call was directed precisely at him. The approaching presence was unmistakable.
Turning his head, he saw a boy bowing his head.
His darkly tanned skin and steady breath stood out. In the winter mountains, dressed in earthy hemp garments, he was particularly conspicuous. Was he not cold?
Jung Yeonshin halted his steps and parted his lips.
"What do you want?"
"My name is Jang Sun-il! Please take me as your guide! You look like this is your first time here!"
He lifted his head as he clasped his hands together. His gesture appeared slightly awkward.
It seemed he wasn't accustomed to formal etiquette. Those climbing the mountain chuckled as they passed by.
The current Radiant Demon Squad's leader was not used to conversing with unfamiliar people who bore no hostility.
Jung Yeonshin tilted his head slightly to the side.
"Why?"
"I was born here in Baoji, raised eating the mountain's peppercorns, and I know the terrain like the back of my hand! I may look like this, but I'm both a herbalist and an alchemist! There's a secret surveying method only known to mountain gatherers, and I can read the land very well! I already know the exact terrain where a spiritual herb like the Thousand-Year He Shou Wu would grow!"
His words poured out in a steady stream, his lively tone carrying an engaging rhythm.
He certainly seemed like someone who could sell medicine well.
Jung Yeonshin's clear eyes took in Jang Sun-il.
Judging by his deep yet delicate breaths, he had properly learned the Three Talents Heart Method, promulgated by the imperial family.
It must have contributed to making the barren lands slightly more fertile. His strong lower body suggested he frequently traversed the mountains.
Had he lived in Xinye County, where the Jung Clan was based, he would have been a remarkable and well-liked youth.
"What do you want in return?"
"If we find the 'He Shou Wu', I just want to eat even a handful of the soil its roots have grown in!"
His firm response hinted at an untold story.
Despite his introduction, many still passed by them, dismissing the two as overconfident youths.
The secret method of mountain gatherers was regarded like the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng, rarely trusted by anyone. Such things were shrouded in skepticism.
The ability to read the land for medicinal herbs was something accumulated through years of experience. The two of them were simply too young.
However, Jung Yeonshin, with his enhanced vision from Heaven-Piercing Technique, saw beyond that.
'Was he waiting for someone worth his time?'
The boy had his own share of exceptional qualities, something innately gifted. He was similar to himself.
"You don't seem ordinary at all."
A smirk spread across his face, tinged with a hint of desperation.
Taebaek Mountain had become a warzone, a blade-ridden forest. No warrior capable of breaking through the martial world's swords and spears would have spared a glance at the boy.
Martial masters, whether through force or wealth, had undoubtedly secured far more reliable guides. They did not possess the Radiant Demon Squad's leader's upper dantian capabilities.
"Eat as much soil as you like."
Jung Yeonshin nodded without hesitation.
Jang Sun-il's way of tracking was indeed extraordinary.
Even the way he stepped on the ground was different. With a single step, the tip of his foot moved three times.
He explained that it was a process of tracing the energy veins connected to recently sprouted spiritual herbs. In no time at all, they had entered an area devoid of people.
His movements were devoid of excess. Even to Jung Yeonshin's eyes, he seemed like quite a skilled martial artist.
'Should I place a hand on the crown of his head?'
As he followed silently, idle thoughts emerged.
It was the first time since he had begun training. It meant he had some room to breathe. Jung Yeonshin raised his right hand.
As he slightly curled his fingers, the tendons on his wrist tensed. Blue veins stretched across his forearm.
Step.
His steps slowed slightly.
Every fine muscle in his body adjusted according to his will. More firmly woven, maximizing the efficiency of Transcending Law Radiant Wheel.
'This level of endurance won't be enough.'
He lightly swung his right arm as if gripping a sword.
Swoosh.
He repeated the motion. His hand gradually blurred.
Jang Sun-il glanced back, bewildered by what he saw with his own eyes.
"What is that?"
"Training."
"But… why here of all places?"
"The key to training is relentless repetition, no matter the time or place."
"Was that something your master taught you?"
"No… but dull-witted people seem to do it that way."
"Huh?"
"I found something to learn from it. I just hadn't realized before."
Jung Yeonshin answered all of his trivial questions. Jang Sun-il was an easy-going and sociable boy.
Rustle.
Their peaceful ascent continued. At every bend in the mountain path, the air grew clearer.
Because he was focused on his training, he couldn't extend his senses widely.
And because of that, the winter scenery became even more vivid.
Even as a desperate cry echoed from afar, the golden-hued pine needles swayed gently.
"Blood Flame Cult! The blood fiends of the Blood Flame Cult are here!"
"Ahahaha—!"
"Let's avoid them."
Jung Yeonshin spoke calmly.
The smooth laughter he had just heard was all too familiar.
A voice that rang like a jade bead rolling across a dish crafted from pure madness.
"This way, hurry! There's an open path— no, it's blocked! Those bastards planned this well!"
A young man's pale face appeared over the ridgeline.
Dressed in azure robes, wielding a dazzling spear, he was a rising talent.
Had he mistaken Jung Yeonshin's subtly clenched fist as a claw technique stance? His reaction was swift. The moment his hand grasped the spear shaft, it recoiled back in an instant.
"It looks unstable! I'll break through!"
A flash erupted from his hands. In an instant, the spear vanished.
Swoooosh!
A proper thrown spear.
It was as if lightning had been unleashed.
By then, Jung Yeonshin had already stepped in front of Jang Sun-il, extending his right hand.
Boom! Ssssssh!
The spearhead, colliding against his palm, emitted a dull explosion. A violent shockwave erupted.
Bushes on either side bent under the force, while the spear, from tip to shaft, began to disintegrate.
From his palm, silver metallic dust scattered in all directions.
It happened in a fleeting moment.
The entire spear shattered into nothingness. The loud commotion from the ridge fell into silence.
'The intermediate task is complete. The final goal is still ahead, but…'
Jung Yeonshin clasped one hand behind his back and lifted his gaze. A small sense of accomplishment welled within him.
Infinite Blossom Fist Strike, Radiant River.
Now, it was in constant use.
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