Chapter 159

Chapter 159
Chapter 159: Serpentine Dawn Formation

The first light of dawn curled around every corner of Baek Clan Manor.
Winding streams of illumination traced an unbroken, intricate pattern across the grounds.
Light ordinarily traveled in straight lines—there was only one reason it could twist and curve this way.

“I told you fools to keep your eyes open for traps.”

The Black Dao forces from Honam had stormed the manor in numbers large enough to level it even without their full strength at their backs.
Yet he had known they were coming all along.
Even so, he had chosen to stand his ground without calling for reinforcements…
Because he was certain he could hold off a far larger force with fewer men, so long as he held the terrain advantage.

In the martial world, it should be noted, terrain advantage meant far more than just the natural lay of the land.
There was another, far more potent and destructive element at its core.
Formations.

“Formation! Everyone, watch yourselves!”
Hyeongsan Yinblood roared the warning, but it was already too late.

The moment they surged forward to Baek Clan Manor’s main gate, they had stepped squarely within the formation’s sphere of influence.

“Long ago, Zhuge Liang turned the tide against overwhelming numbers using formations alone.”
Even now, his descendants carried that legacy forward, making their names known across the realm through their mastery of the art.
Zhuge Seol-ha was one such direct heir of the Zhuge bloodline.
She had even mastered the Mysterious Origin Forward Divine Art.

“You imbeciles—with the Zhuge Clan’s young lady standing right here, you couldn’t foresee something this obvious?”

The Mysterious Origin Forward Divine Art was an extraordinary technique: an absolute art that awakened and drew upon the upper dantian from the very first moment of practice.
It defied convention.
Nearly all martial arts began from the lower dantian, and to work against the established order invariably carried harsh side effects.
Yet this very art had lifted the Zhuge Clan into the ranks of the Five Great Clans.

“Seol-ha! Second formation—shift now!”
“At once, senior brother!”

Zhuge Seol-ha channeled the Mysterious Origin Forward Divine Art to its utmost limit.
Her upper dantian opened, revealing currents of ethereal qi so refined they lay beyond what her current level of cultivation should have been able to perceive.
It was said that when Zhuge Liang had displayed his own divine arts, he had simply told those who looked on in awe that he saw nothing more than the qi of the heavens and read the flow of spiritual energy to respond in kind.

“If you can read the currents that move between heaven, earth, and spirit, you can shape them as you see fit.”

That was the true nature of a formation.
To discern the natural, invisible harmonies of the world, then place objects imbued with special energy so as to reshape those harmonies—turn them to your purpose.
Every formation master drew upon the upper dantian, using human understanding to map the very order of existence.
And turning that order into a weapon.

“When a leader makes a foolish call, his followers pay the price. You will pay with your lives.”

A pale mist began to spread in every direction, thick enough to hide what lay barely a step ahead.
From somewhere beyond the haze, Baek Yang-hui’s voice drifted to them, sharp and taunting. Hyeongsan Yinblood ground his teeth in fury.

“How can these worthless mongrels of the Baek Clan wield something this powerful?!”

No one launched an assault on a clan manor without accounting for defensive formations—Hyeongsan Yinblood had done exactly that.
He had anticipated every ward and barrier they were likely to meet.
The problem was that this formation was stronger by far than anything he had calculated.

*Pfbt! Pfbt! Pfbt!*
“Ugh—!”
“Ah!”

Screams broke out all across the field.

“The Baek Clan’s line has all but died out—their most prized family arts are third-rate rubbish! How is this even possible?!”

It should have been unthinkable that they could weave a harmony this profound simply because they had taken in one direct descendant of the Zhuge Clan.

“Wondering, aren’t you?”
The voice echoed again, laced with mockery. Hyeongsan Yinblood’s eyes bulged in rage.

“Silence! I will tear you apart with my own hands!”

Baek Yang-hui smirked at the outburst.
“Seol-ha… they seem eager for more pain. Shall we give them a taste of fire?”

Zhuge Seol-ha plucked the strings of her Heavenly Sound Pipa in a rapid, complex sequence.
As though pulled by invisible strings, every anchor and marker built into the formation answered at once.

“Fire! It’s burning!”
“Snap out of it—it’s an illusion!”
“It feels so real… the heat… ah!”

Zhuge Seol-ha stuck out her tongue playfully.
“Telling people to snap out of it while they’re caught inside an illusion formation? How ridiculous.”
“Exactly.”

Zhuge Seol-ha was a direct scion of the renowned Wayong House, famed for its mastery of formations, and a chosen disciple of the Pure Sound Jade Command School—an institution whose very initiation rite, the Five Pure Sounds, spoke of unrivaled skill in mechanisms and warding arts.

“Even now, it takes my breath away—using such a potent illusion formation just as a trial.”
It had been within that very formation that Baek Yang-hui had come face to face with Namgung Cheon-yeong from his past life, and fought a duel where only one would walk away.
He had won, and escaped, but the truth remained: even with insight that reached the super peak realm, he had not been able to break free.

“You’ve done splendidly these past three months, Seol-ha.”
“It was nothing. Baek Clan Manor made it far easier than it might have been.”

She glanced toward the main gate as she spoke—great doors hewn from dark hardwood, carved with clouds by the dozen, by the hundred.
His father’s words came back to him then.

“That gate is something special, you know. Our founder carved it with his own hands.”

Even in decline, the Baek Clan had once stood among the Five Great Clans, established by none other than the greatest master of his age.
For a house of such standing, building one’s home in keeping with formation principles was standard practice—and the Baek Clan had never abandoned their ancestral grounds, even when their fortunes fell.

“The halls are laid out in perfect alignment, centered on the main residence. And that gate… the old formations fell into disuse long ago, but that single gate has always held its power as the formation’s core.”

“Makes sense. It was crafted by the greatest of his generation, after all.”

That was how Zhuge Seol-ha had been able to raise such a powerful barrier single-handedly.
It was a remnant of a glorious age long past, a heritage the Baek Clan had guarded through every generation, through every hardship—and now it blazed forth when they needed it most.

“The only drawback is that it’s unstable. We can’t fight within its bounds for long.”
Ideally, allies would pass through unharmed while enemies were cut down—but that would have taken more time, more preparation.
Given enough time, it might have been achieved: total destruction of the invaders with barely a scratch on their own people.
But wishing wouldn’t make it so.

“Senior brother. The anchor points are beginning to fail. The formation won’t hold much longer.”
“So soon? Well… they are peak masters in their fifties, after all.”

Those who had reached the peak realm could learn to read distortions in the flow of qi, and so locate the markers that sustained the formation.
A deeper, more subtle working might have trapped them without their ever realizing, like frogs in water slowly brought to boil—but that lay beyond what Seol-ha could manage alone.

“You’ve done more than enough. Stand down and prepare the next phase.”
“Understood.” She gave a bright smile and moved to take up a new position.

Meanwhile, the surviving Black Dao forces regrouped and advanced into full view.

“Baek Yang-hui—you hide behind cheap tricks!”

Baek Yang-hui almost laughed.
Cheap tricks?
He looked out over the field.
“Then tell me—do you not mourn the men who died to those ‘cheap tricks’ of yours?”

Hyeongsan Yinblood had no more words to waste.
His forces reformed, spread wide, and charged the walls all at once. One warrior leaped straight for Baek Yang-hui where he stood atop the gate; he met the strike, severed the man’s head in a single blow, and sent the body spinning away.
He turned in a graceful arc and alighted upon the roof of the main hall.

“Not one of you dares come forward yourself? I’d have thought with me standing so plainly in sight, even you would send someone worth fighting.”

He let the disappointment show in his tone, but Hyeongsan Yinblood kept issuing orders as though he had not heard.

“Assume there are wards within the walls as well. Keep your guard up and kill them all!”
“Lord Hyeongsan! At once!”

Baek Yang-hui watched them and chuckled inwardly.
*If only you knew—there are no formations inside.*
At his direction, Zhuge Seol-ha had channeled every possible reserve into strengthening the outer barrier.
The moment they crossed the wall line, that advantage would vanish.
*But that doesn’t mean we have no other way to turn the tide.*

“Hyeongsan Yinblood—one question before we begin.”
He had been ignored until now, but that would change soon enough.
“When a sect has many warriors but few masters, what is the surest way to raise their strength as one?”

The answer was simple: a formation.
More precisely, a combined battle formation.
Even the legendary Wayong’s Eight Gates Golden Lock Formation was, at its heart, a structure built from the coordinated effort of many.
The very word itself spoke of drawing strength from unity.

“Baek Division—form up!”
Baek Heon-so stepped forward, ready.
“At your command!”
“Deploy the Thousand Feathers Blade Transformation Formation!”

It was their second great gambit.

“Hah! A combined formation? You think that will stop us?!”

Just as expected. Hyeongsan Yinblood was already jeering—and he was not alone.

“Those formations are meant to make up for weakness! Do you imagine we know nothing of such things?!”

In truth, the Black Dao were well-practiced in fighting as one. They saw no shame in overwhelming a single foe with numbers; it was simply how they fought.
At Hyeongsan Yinblood’s signal, his men shifted in perfect unison—a formation anchored by their strongest peak masters.

“We outmatch you in skill and in numbers! You have doomed yourself with this folly!”
“The boy has lost his mind!”
“Beg all you want—you will die here!”

Through every taunt and threat, Baek Yang-hui remained calm.
“You may have skill, and you may have numbers… but one other thing decides the strength of a formation.”
Its quality.

“Enough talk—charge!”

The Black Dao host surged forward. Their formation held firm even at speed, a testament to long practice.
But it would not be enough.

“Feathers—become blades!”

At Baek Heon-so’s command, every member of the Baek Division poured their strength into the whole.
Something extraordinary happened.

None of them were older than their early thirties. Only a handful had reached the first rank, and none had attained that highest unity of spirit and will.
Yet they moved as one, their resolve unshakable, their purpose clear.
The two forces met.

“Impossible!”
“What manner of fighters are they?!”
“Sorcery—it must be sorcery!”

The Black Dao had held every advantage—and yet it was the Thousand Feathers Blade Transformation that broke their line.

“Why are you so surprised? It is only right that discipline prevails.”

Hyeongsan Yinblood and his followers fell silent as their men began to give ground.
Baek Yang-hui pressed on.
“You dare match that ragtag mess against the Thousand Feathers Blade Transformation?”

In a past life, he had traveled the realm seeking to raise his family’s heritage to something truly divine. He had studied every way of fighting, and turned away from nothing that held a spark of truth.
*This was forged from long hours studying Shaolin’s 108 Arhat Formation.*
That legendary arrangement, said to be capable of holding even one of the Ten Heavenly Martial Venerables in check.
Many of Shaolin’s greatest arts were little more than myth—but he had faced that formation himself.
*I nearly died there.*

Numbers and raw skill meant nothing here—that was what combined formations were designed to overcome.
Of course, if the enemy’s peak masters intervened, the tide would turn.

“Enough! Peak masters—move forward and shatter this formation!”

*Just as I anticipated.*
Formations lived and died by their anchors.
Hyeongsan Yinblood understood that well. Even with heavy losses, his forces still outnumbered the Baek by more than two to one; no formation could hold forever against such odds.
*If they send their strongest, we simply change the game entirely.*
And they had prepared exactly for this moment.

“Seol-ha—time for the final phase.”
“Yes, senior brother!”

Zhuge Seol-ha touched the pendant at her neck, took a deep breath, and drew the bow across the strings of her Heavenly Sound Pipa.
A note rose—soft, yet burning with inner fire, carrying warmth and energy across every inch of the field.
At the same moment, the pendant of dark, unrecognized metal flared into brilliant light.