Chapter 411

Chapter 411: Old Body (1)

Luoyang, Henan Province.

A venerable capital where countless royal lines had previously set up their seats of authority, a location rich with magnificent history that still throbbed with a vitality matching the regional capital of Kaifeng.

Currently, however, it was draped only in a somber, high-strung mood. It felt as though a tempest was on the horizon.

The pathways were occupied almost entirely by martial artists bearing swords, blades, spears, and similar armaments. The ordinary citizens who typically inhabited Luoyang were nowhere to be found.

This shift occurred because, following the push by the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult into the Central Plains, warriors from every corner of the realm had converged here, determined to resist the invaders.

In the center of this transformed Luoyang was located a grand eating establishment. Its highest level, crowning five floors, required a small fortune for a single evening of hospitality, but since no private matters ever escaped its walls, it remained a preferred destination for the elite.

It was in this precise location that the primary leaders of the Central Plains martial world had gathered to hold an emergency meeting.

“How much longer must we remain here doing absolutely nothing!”

Following Yang Mu-ja’s agitated exclamation, the gathered crowd let out soft, cynical laughs.

Yang Mu-ja and his companions from the Mount Heng Sect had only reached Luoyang a few short hours before.

Despite being the final participant to arrive among the delegation, he was behaving as though his patience had been tested the longest.

However, his volatile temperament was already a matter of common knowledge across the jianghu, meaning no person bothered to openly criticize his behavior. Furthermore, every individual present was becoming equally exhausted by the prolonged delay.

Peng Mu-yeol, the governing patriarch of the Hebei Peng Clan, spoke up to take charge of the room.

“A significant number of allies have yet to reach us, but our current assembly is large enough, meaning it is likely time to begin our march.”

Though Yang Mu-ja was renowned for his fiery disposition, the rapid impatience of the Peng Clan was just as legendary throughout the jianghu.

‘What a waste of time. If we hadn’t made that arrangement with the Embroidered Uniform Guard, there would have been no reason to prolong this gathering.’

The Hebei Peng Clan, situated in close proximity to the imperial seat, frequently dealt with administrative friction from the authorities.

As a result, he understood perfectly well that the court eunuchs held the reins of royal authority in a tight grip.

When an emissary from the Embroidered Uniform Guard—the very embodiment of the eunuchs’ reach—made contact with him, Peng Mu-yeol recognized it as a golden path forward.

His calculations had been entirely accurate.

—Should you manage this situation correctly, His Majesty intends to grant the Peng Clan total authority over all state-regulated martial matters within the Central Plains martial world.

The terms presented by the eunuch known as Gong had arrived with irresistible sweetness.

They would utilize the ongoing conflict against the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult as an ideal excuse to drain the strength of the prominent jianghu organizations.

Following that, they would establish an entirely new Martial Alliance, placing the Hebei Peng Clan at the apex, to administer the entirety of the Central Plains martial world.

That was the core of the strategy Peng Mu-yeol had received from the imperial official.

Given that the Hebei Peng Clan already maintained ties to the imperial palace, the arrangement brought no genuine moral discomfort.

The objective was not to completely wipe out the fighting society. At the very least, based on the assurances from Gong, there had been no mention of total eradication.

Instead, ambitious reflections occupied his mind.

‘This is the perfect moment to completely eliminate everyone who thought they could stand above me!’

The venerable institutions of Shaolin and Wudang, looked up to as the twin structural pillars of the jianghu by all. The prominent Nangong Clan, which prided itself on being the premier righteous sect. The analytical Zhuge Clan, who constantly looked down upon them.

Bound together under the designation of the Nine Great Sects and Seven Great Clans, this conflict offered the perfect opening to liquidate those viewed as peers or rivals, allowing him to claim total mastery over the martial domain.

‘It is unfortunate that the Moyong Clan of Liaoning has failed to appear, but they rank below our Hebei Peng Clan regardless, so it poses no true obstacle. As for that independent Fighting King, he is merely a solitary traveler counted among the Twelve Heavenly Lords despite lacking any real ties to a righteous faction, meaning he can be dispatched whenever convenient.’

‘The silence from the Guangdong Jin Clan and the Haenam Sect is frustrating, but delaying any further is impossible. The regional forces will commence their operations shortly, so to bring an end to our rivals here, the campaign must get underway.’

Peng Mu-yeol directed a calculated glance toward the Shaolin leader, Namgung Jin, and Yang Mu-ja across the chamber, deliberately softening the harshness in his gaze.

In this environment, dropping one’s vigilance for even a second meant forfeiting one’s life.

As soon as the high-level meeting on the restaurant’s topmost floor came to a close, the Shaolin abbot made his way toward the private compound where his fellow Shaolin monks had established their temporary residence.

Nearing a secluded, quiet sanctuary situated deep within the property, the monastic leader spoke in a low, respectful tone.

“Ancestor, our forces intend to begin the march tomorrow at first light.”

Despite holding the title of Shaolin’s most senior spiritual leader, his demeanor remained intensely subservient.

The moment his update concluded, an ethereal voice transmission resonated from the interior of the sanctuary.

—The period of waiting has been exceptionally long, Abbot.

“…Please forgive the delay, Ancestor. Because the Demonic Cult has entangled both the royal court and various righteous factions, launching a direct confrontation without proper support would have inflicted catastrophic casualties upon our ranks…”

—I am aware.

Hyun-am decisively interrupted the monastic leader’s explanation and delivered an explicit directive through the mental link.

—Abbot, the scent of hostility and worldly amusement clings heavily to your person. Such things are entirely unfitting for a disciple of Shaolin, so dedicate the remainder of this day to cleansing your physical form and stabilizing your inner consciousness.

“…Your instructions shall be carried out precisely, Ancestor.”

The monastic head offered a respectful bow of obedience, then departed for the bathing chambers to rid himself of the lingering traces of the restaurant’s liquor and perfume.

When the following day arrived, during the quiet hours just before dawn.

A low creak echoed.

The entryways to that secluded sanctuary, which had remained sealed for numerous days, glided open to reveal a remarkably thin, skeletal old monk.

“Amitabha. Maintain your endurance for just a brief period longer. Once I have completely purged the unholy scourge that is currently defiling the Central Plains, I shall finally answer the ultimate call of Shakyamuni.”

Utilizing a vocal tone that resembled grinding metal, the aged monastic pronounced his solemn pledge to the cosmos and stepped out into the wider world.

Yungzhong Mountains, Hubei Province.

Deep within the ancestral estate of the Zhuge Clan, specifically inside the primary hall of the patriarch.

In that room, the leading representatives from the allied groups were conducting their strategic briefing.

“Intelligence reports indicate that the martial coalitions assembled within Henan have initiated their advance toward the south.”

Following the statement by the Iron King, the spiritual head of Wudang offered an expression of disappointment.

“Had fortune granted us merely a few additional days, we might have successfully brought the governing authorities in Wuhan over to our side as well. It is a true misfortune.”

However, the administrative heart of Hubei, Wuhan, was located far to the southeast in proximity to Dongting Lake.

Separated by a significant geographical distance, the Zhuge Clan and Wudang held their primary sway in the northwestern territories of Hubei.

Securing the allegiance of the northwestern martial associations and regional administrators had proven uncomplicated, but their diplomatic efforts had missed the mark regarding Wuhan and the southeastern bureaucrats.

When the spiritual head of Wudang highlighted this difficulty, Zhuge Mun offered a dismissive shrug.

“Lamenting past failures only ensures that you will fail to grasp the openings currently standing before you. Let us focus our attention on the immediate situation.”

In response to Zhuge Mun’s comment, the Left Envoy of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult voiced a query.

“Under these circumstances, what strategy does the Zhuge patriarch propose to employ?”

“We shall maintain a defensive posture, naturally. There is absolutely no reason to march out and absorb unnecessary casualties when the opposing force holds the numerical advantage, is there?”

Confronted with Zhuge Mun’s candid assessment of their tactical disadvantage, the expressions of Yeom Ga-hwi and Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang grew visibly rigid.

“Even with the combination of our four distinct strengths, you perceive our side as being in a state of inferiority?”

Unable to contain his irritation, Yeom Ga-hwi insisted on a clarification, and Zhuge Mun provided a firm nod without a moment’s hesitation.

“It is solely due to the reality that the four of you have united your strengths that I am even prepared to attempt a defense. If we lacked the backing of your organization, or if that assistance were found wanting, I would have already directed the combatants we assembled across Hubei to abandon this place and retreat westward toward Shaanxi without a single backward glance.”

To disciples of the Demonic Cult who absolute worshipped martial dominance and walked away from no confrontation, such a cautious perspective was entirely alien.

“Hah. How can an individual harbor such intense dread before a single blow has even been struck?”

Answering Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang’s query, Zhuge Mun countered immediately.

“Actual combat is unnecessary to weigh the odds. If that ancient monastic figure from Shaolin possesses strength on par with the Thousand Blood River Master, as the Tai Chi Sword Immortal previously indicated, then even your collective power would be insufficient to overcome him.”

As Yeom Ga-hwi and Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang turned crimson, preparing to argue against Zhuge Mun’s unvarnished remarks, the Left and Right Envoys, who had remained quiet observers, chose to intervene.

“Let this matter drop.”

“Our purpose here is to provide assistance, not to force them to conform to our desires.”

At the directive of the two senior figures, acting as direct representatives for the Cult Leader, Yeom Ga-hwi and Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang suppressed their resentment and fell silent.

Amidst the confrontational atmosphere filling the leader’s chamber, Zhuge Mun resumed speaking in a composed manner.

“Given that the primary combat force of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult is presently situated in Shaanxi Province, we will send an urgent request for backup while holding our ground here at Yungzhong Mountain until their arrival.”

On this occasion, the inquiry did not originate from Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang or Yeom Ga-hwi. The Right Envoy stepped forward to voice the question for them.

“Does this Yungzhong Mountain truly possess the defensive capability required to withstand an assault?”

The question carried no hint of derision, only authentic inquiry, prompting Zhuge Mun to reveal a rare, self-assured grin.

“This particular mountain represents the stronghold where my Zhuge Clan has fortified its legacy over multiple generations. Do you honestly believe my scholarly predecessors left this terrain completely unaltered throughout all that time?”

An astronomical array of mystical formations and hidden mechanical hazards were spread across the peaks.

“I cannot offer an absolute promise of triumph, but we are fully capable of maintaining our lines until the reinforcements marching from Shaanxi can reach us.”

Following that exchange, Zhuge Mun proceeded to outline the internal workings, mystical barriers, and hidden hazards constructed throughout the Yungzhong Mountain range.

He furthermore provided precise instructions on how to station the combatants from Wudang, the Beggars’ Sect, and his own Zhuge Clan across the various ridges. Next, they finalized the personnel assignments intended to counter the enemy’s master martial artists, alongside a review of specific operational adjustments.

When the tactical session concluded, the four elite figures of the Demonic Cult made their way toward the residential quarters provided by the hosting Zhuge Clan.

“Tch. Playing the part of timid runaways sits terribly with my pride.”

Hearing Yeom Ga-hwi’s complaint, the Left and Right Guardian Lion Envoys signaled their shared understanding with a nod.

“If a person of that mindset were commanding the core legions of our organization, we would stand in open opposition as well.”

“However, this land belongs to them; these are their bloodlines and pupils. Operatives acting in accordance with their strategy fits perfectly with the objectives our Cult Leader wishes to achieve, does it not?”

The perspective offered by the two senior figures successfully placated Hyeok-ryeon Cheon-gang and Yeom Ga-hwi.

When all was said and done, their presence was merely that of an auxiliary force, dispatched to reinforce the numbers of supreme martial masters, which were currently running low.

With their internal conflicts resolved, the four martial artists split up to occupy their individual quarters.

Given their status as highly respected political guests, the residential compound granted to them contained multiple separate pavilions for personal privacy.

As the shadows of evening stretched across the landscape, the Left Envoy paid a visit to the Right Envoy’s quarters, bringing along a flask of spirits and a pair of drinking vessels.

“Hoho, is the consumption of spirits not strictly prohibited by our decrees?”

“The Heavenly Demon established that particular restriction solely for the younger disciples who have yet to achieve the stage of Transcended Demon.”

“Hohoho.”

Shortly thereafter, the two martial artists shared their cups while appreciating the sweeping twilight view over the Yungzhong Mountain terrain.

“We are currently participating in an event that once existed only within our grandest aspirations.”

“That is true.”

Reclaiming dominion over the Central Plains stood as the ultimate, long-standing dream for every member of the Demonic Cult.

“It is merely a profound sorrow that the Heavenly Demon cannot witness this with us.”

Both the Left and Right Envoys had originally been counted among the devoted followers of Baekcheon Il-hwi, the previous Heavenly Demon.

As veteran masters selected for their roles many decades ago, they were both rapidly approaching their one-hundredth year of life.

Yet, that loyalty did not mean they harbored any bitterness toward the individual currently holding the title of Cult Leader, Wi Jin-hak.

In his capacity as the exceptional young heir, he was diligently fulfilling the grand designs of his predecessor.

“For that exact reason, we must absorb this magnificent vista with even greater intensity. When the time comes for us to rejoin the Heavenly Demon in the afterlife, we can vividly describe the territories we have beheld.”

“Hohoho. In that case, let us ensure our survival until the day arrives when the Demonic Path achieves total dominance over the earth. We are obligated to report exactly how magnificent the forests have grown using the nutrient foundation he sacrificed himself to establish.”

“You speak of your own duties. As for myself, much like the Supreme One, I am prepared at any given second to transform into the raw nutrients required to cement the absolute supremacy of the Demonic Path.”

“Hey, do you believe for a second that I am any less committed?”

The two veteran martial artists, bound by decades of shared battle, engaged in playful bickering like adolescents while passing the flask between them.

Having spent nearly a century on this earth—with over half that duration dedicated to executing the commands of the leader they placed their absolute trust in—they appeared to intentionally look past his absence.

After a span of several days.

A massive military force totaling ten thousand combatants advanced upon Yungzhong Mountain.

The vanguard consisted of Shaolin and the Hebei Peng Clan, alongside the Nangong Clan and the Mount Heng Sect. They marched in tandem with their secular adherents and various directly or indirectly connected martial schools.

Furthermore, a multitude of minor and intermediate martial organizations from every corner of the Central Plains had sworn their blades to the cause.

The sheer magnitude of the gathering caused it to resemble a highly organized state military force rather than a mere convergence of martial arts factions.

Upon drawing within striking distance of the Yungzhong Mountain slopes, the patriarch of the Peng Clan, Peng Mu-yeol, stepped out in front as though he held the mandate of supreme commander.

Shortly thereafter, his features twisted into an expression of intense displeasure.

From the ranks of the Shaolin contingent, an incredibly gaunt, skeletal old man stepped forward in an identical fashion.

He had journeyed in complete silence alongside the Shaolin brotherhood throughout the entire march, allowing him to escape prior notice.

‘Has that ancient relic completely lost his sanity?’

Casting an irritated glance at the elderly figure for a brief second, Peng Mu-yeol was suddenly caught off guard as the old monk shifted his posture and locked eyes with him directly.

The gaze of the aged monastic contained absolutely nothing. It possessed such a profound emptiness that it felt like staring into an infinite cavern completely starved of light.

Forcing down a dry breath, a sudden realization struck Peng Mu-yeol too late.

He involuntarily took a pace backward.

It was an instinctive alarm triggered by his own physical form, which had been finely tuned to the cosmic martial tier: place yourself near that old monk, and your existence will be extinguished.

Observing Peng Mu-yeol’s retreat, the elderly monastic offered a minor, approving gesture of his head.

His manner mirrored that of an owner managing a well-trained hound.

Swiftly losing any further interest in Peng Mu-yeol, the ancient monk proceeded forward by several additional paces.

Taking his position as the solitary focal point ahead of the entire host, an incredibly terrifying wave of spiritual pressure began to radiate from his form.

His withered skin appeared on the verge of splitting open as his chest cavity expanded dramatically, and moments later, a devastating lion’s roar reverberated across the entirety of the Yungzhong Mountain range.