Chapter 221

Chapter 221
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**Chapter 221**
**A Spectacle Unfolds**

“What an incredible sight.”
“Absolutely. It’s magnificent to behold, isn’t it?”
“You don’t see something like this every single day.”

Yang-hwi and his companions sat perched on the roof of their inn, observing the throngs of people filling the streets below. These were no ordinary passersby, not in the slightest.

“Only four delegations from the Orthodox Sects and the Five Great Clans have arrived so far. The air already feels thick with tension—like dragons gathering and tigers lying in wait.”
“You can say that again, sister.”

A cavalry detachment thundered into view, hooves striking the earth in a steady, resounding rhythm. They were the Moyong Clan of Yoryeong, the northernmost of the Five Great Clans. Elsewhere, warriors stood at attention, spears raised high as a dense forest of lances piercing the sky—members of the Ak Clan of Shandong, another of the Five Great Clans, renowned for producing the greatest spear master the world had ever known.

“With their arrival, every last Orthodox Sect and Great Clan has sent representatives.” And they had not merely dispatched their younger disciples either. Each group included a clan leader or an elder of comparable standing. It was no exaggeration to say the cream of the orthodox martial world had gathered within the city of Wuhuan.

“Kunlun is here as well—they have journeyed a great distance.”
“They hail from the remote borderlands, yet they are likely more invested in the title of Greatest Young Dragon than most.”
“True enough. Beyond their Cloud Dragon Great Eight Forms, the very symbol of their sect is a dragon, after all.”

Yang-hwi watched the Kunlun Taoists for a moment, then sharpened his focus. With nearly all participants in the Dragon-Phoenix Contest now assembled, onlookers and enthusiasts buzzed with animated conversation.

“The young disciples of Kunlun all look formidable! Who do you suppose will claim the title of Greatest Young Dragon this time around?”
“Hard to predict. Shaolin, Wudang, Namgung… there are simply too many outstanding contenders this year.”
“Couldn’t agree more. With so many brilliant talents emerging, this truly is a golden age for the orthodox martial world.”

Predictions about the eventual winner filled the air, alongside jests about which renowned young master would be the first to fall and become the subject of everyone’s ridicule.

“Huashan won’t walk away with the title, and Jeomchang will likely be eliminated early, don’t you think?”
“Even so, they’ll easily advance to the main rounds—they hold Heavenly-grade invitations, after all.”
“Fair point. So among those we know, who will be the first to go down?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”

The two speaking in unison cried out the same name.
“Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon!”
“Who else? All prestige and no real skill, that so-called ‘pillar of strength’!”
“I heard he even lost his Heavenly-grade invitation to the young leader of the Blood Death Alliance, so he’ll have to fight his way through the qualifying rounds from the very start!”
“We’ll see him crash and burn soon enough! Hahaha!”
“Hahaha!”
“Hahaha!”

Rumour had solidified into settled opinion. In the eyes of the crowd, the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon was nothing more than a fortunate loafer riding on others’ coattails, and wagers were already being placed on exactly when he would meet his downfall.

*Thank goodness Father and Chief Steward Han did not come. And if Brother Gu ever found out… that would be a nightmare.*

Baek Mu-ryang might feel a flicker of displeasure knowing his heir had become the butt of everyone’s jokes, even with his unwavering faith in his son. But Gu-ak? He would seize the opportunity to roll on the floor with laughter. Truly, it was a blessing that his duties to the clan kept him far away from the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.

“The Dragon-Phoenix Assembly begins in just a few days. It’s rather thrilling to think about.”
“Are you nervous?”

Zhuge Seol-ha shook her head firmly.
“I can scarcely wait to see what sort of upheaval my brother will bring about.”

Tang Gun pressed a hand to his forehead, while Tang Yeon wore a knowing smirk. Baek Heon-so gazed at Yang-hwi, eyes shining with anticipation.
“It’s going to be spectacular. Though I do have one regret.”
“What is it?”
“The Blood Cult. They openly challenged the Killing Blood Leader, yet there has been no response at all.”

It was genuinely unexpected. They had portrayed the Blood Cult Leader as a fool before the entire world, yet no retaliation had come. Had their information been wrong—did he not intend to attend the Assembly for his own amusement after all? Or was he a calculating mastermind, holding his followers on a tight leash? Either way, the situation was far from ideal.

“I had hoped they would make the mistake of crowing over others’ misfortunes.” Rattling snakes hidden in the grass was always dangerous—but if you knew they would be the first to slither into the open, the entire dynamic shifted.
“It cannot be helped. We shall wait a little longer… Huh?”

Yang-hwi sprang abruptly to his feet. The reason was immediately clear.
“That despicable man…”
“What is it? Do you know him?”

A procession was entering through Wuhuan’s eastern gate. Their banner stood tall, bearing the words: *Zhejiang Black Clan*.
“That man at the front, with the dark face—who is he?”
“Let me see… That should be Black Water Elder, an elder of the Zhejiang Black Clan, a mid-ranking sect.”
“Brother Hwi… an old acquaintance?”

“Acquaintance… yes.” Not from this life, but the one before. That face—I would recognise it anywhere. He was not connected to the Blood Cult, but that was hardly the comfort it seemed.

*One Fist Blood River. One of the Five Great Divine Generals of the Reverse Heaven Divine Cult.*

If the Blood Cult had murderous enforcers at its command, the Reverse Heaven Divine Cult had its Five Great Divine Generals—each one capable of altering the course of wars, utterly devoted hounds answering only to their Divine Cult Leader. He was not of the Blood Cult, yet Yang-hwi had found a lead. The Reverse Heaven Divine Cult was the most secretive of the Three Great Demonic Cults; even Yang-hwi knew far less about them than the other two. It was time to devise a plan to draw this man out, and catch the much larger prey he served.

“It has been a long time indeed, Young Master Baek.”
“Hmm?”

Someone had climbed onto the roof unnoticed. *This means all Three Great Demonic Cults have their hands in what unfolds here in Wuhuan.* Had this been the case in his past life as well? He pondered this a moment, then offered a formal greeting.

“It has indeed been a long while, Elder Neng-o.”

Three years had carved new scars across Neng-o’s face, yet he smiled with the calm, composed grace of a true Taoist.
“Indeed it has. Far too long.”

His words carried the weight of one who had weathered many storms. They made their way downstairs to a private room and called for refreshments.
“Tea or wine?”
“Hardly a question for a Taoist, is it?”
“Fair enough. Tea for everyone.”

Once the tea had been poured, Yang-hwi spoke again.
“How have you fared these past years?”
“Busy. Duties from sect headquarters pile higher by the day.”
“Could you not have taken things more easily?”
“Had I done so, I would not be here for the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.”

Yang-hwi listened as Neng-o recounted his story. The leadership of Jeomchang had grown increasingly distant, shunning him for his unwavering devotion to the Four-Day Sword Method. They had denied him even the chance to compete in the Dragon-Phoenix Contest as a young disciple.

“As you well know, I am the foremost among Jeomchang’s younger generation.”

It was true—Neng-o’s skill was already comparable to that of a senior elder. His talent far outstripped his official standing; he would undoubtedly shine in the contest, yet his own sect stood in his way.
“Were you successful in perfecting the Moonlit Inner Arts?”

Neng-o glanced at the others in the room before answering.
“They all know the truth. Speak freely.”
“If Young Master Baek trusts these companions, then I shall.” He took a sip of tea and continued. “Whether creating something entirely new or refining what already existed—yes, we succeeded.”

Jeomchang had not only absorbed the Sun Moon Illuminating Cult’s sword techniques but also the deepest secrets of their internal cultivation arts.
“How powerful is it?”
“Immensely so. Cultivating under moonlight allows one to build inner power at a truly astonishing rate. And despite drawing from the so-called ‘demonic’ arts of the Illuminating Cult, it carries no trace of foul or corrupt energy.”

True sacred arts were like that—unlike the overt malice radiating from the Blood Cult or Divine Cult. When refined with care, they possessed a unique, untainted purity.
“That is wonderful news.”

Chudal raised a hand.
“Brother, why do you see it that way? The major orthodox sects will have no reason to suspect anything now.”
“It means Jeomchang has one final chance to redeem itself.”

At least for Jeomchang, the goal was not to purge every trace of what others deemed demonic, but to restore the sect to its true purpose. If even one orthodox sect could rediscover its authentic path, it would set a powerful example.

“I will prove it. The Four-Day Way is the true path of Jeomchang.” His expression was resolute, his eyes burning with unshakable conviction. Even standing alone against the entirety of his sect, Neng-o had never wavered. He had honed himself into a blade of surpassing sharpness and clarity—just as his master had taught him, following the Four-Day Way.

“I believe in you.”

“Thank you. I will not let you down.”

Their gazes met for a long moment. More than words were exchanged between them. *Adu. Present Sword. Wanderer’s Soul. Namgung Cheon-yeong. I still need one more contender.*

The Dragon-Phoenix Assembly awaited—a gathering of peerless swords and clashing ambitions. Which unyielding blade would earn the favour of heaven?

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

A woman clad in blood-red and pure white descended through the air. She walked toward a sprawling residence, the estate silent as a tomb. Blood Blood Maiden landed barefoot, pressing her forehead to the ground in reverence.

“Blood Blood Maiden greets my lord.”

A presence manifested—something far beyond what even her heightened senses could fully comprehend.
*“It has been quite some time.”*

Blood Blood Maiden lifted her head, dust smudged upon her brow. She brushed it away, her eyes burning with devoted longing.
“Far too long, my lord. Are you enjoying the proceedings?”

*“Ah, there is a certain pleasure in watching. A delight that endures across centuries.”*

What amusement could there be in the games of children? Blood Blood Maiden pushed the thought aside. If her lord found joy in it, then joy it truly was.
“You remain apart from the action. Your direct involvement would bring even greater delight.”

*“Different pleasures hold different allure. Some find joy in performing; others, in observing.”*

Blood Blood Maiden bowed low once more, forehead touching the earth, awaiting her command.
*“How fares your plaything?”*

Namgung Cheon-hu.
“He is thriving. Exceptional material—he will provide ample entertainment for you in the days ahead.”

*“Excellent news.”*

For the Blood Cult Leader, the ultimate satisfaction lay in the destination itself—though the journey had its own merits. Setbacks had occurred, yet giving up was unthinkable. Every step along the way had its own allure.

*“They have interfered in my plans… so I shall interfere in theirs. I am merely deciding how best to proceed.”*
“I shall obey whatever command you give.”

*“Very well. Let us play a little trick.”*
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