‘What’s that? Are those people?’
Number 48’s eyes darted around.
The plain of Scattered Gorge Mountain had been filled with nothing but silence.
Now, amid a cacophony of noise, a crowd appeared.
‘So there really are people outside the Ascending Dragon Sect. Eight-Seven was right.’
Back in the Non-Dragon Corps.
It was a vague memory.
Number 87 had arrived around the time Number 48 first began lifting the enormous wooden sword.
How old had they been?
He did not know.
No one had ever told him.
Even now, he did not know his own age.
In any case, according to Number 87, he had been traveling from Liaoning to Hebei with his merchant father when bandits attacked them.
His father had died, and adults had dragged him away.
No, saying he had been sold here would probably be more accurate.
“Hey, what did you say your father sold?”
“Cl-Cl-Cloth.”
“Ah, one of those fabric shops or whatever?”
He stuttered that badly just trying to get a single word out.
Sometimes, Number 48 wondered whether not only his speech, but even his thoughts were a beat slower than everyone else’s.
He was plumper than the other children too.
‘Well, he’s a good kid, at least.’
It could not have been easy to endure when they were surrounded by nothing but vicious children.
Number 87 was slow-witted and often stared vacantly into space, so the other children constantly looked down on him.
The Instructors beat him more than anyone else, saying he could not understand what they told him.
Even now, aside from a handful of children, hardly anyone bothered with Number 87.
Still, he seemed to have been born with martial talent, because his inner arts surpassed even Number 48’s.
That was how he had survived the Non-Dragon Corps.
Truthfully, merely surviving a place where corpses appeared without end throughout the training process was proof of considerable martial talent in itself.
“Eight-Seven, though. Do people outside hit you this much too?”
“Th-They hit you.”
“Tch. So it’s the same as here.”
“N-No. Th-They o-only hit you s-sometimes.”
Was that so?
Did you get beaten less once you left the Ascending Dragon Sect?
“B-But it’s f-fun.”
He always said that.
“Fun.”
Number 48 did not know exactly what the word meant.
A life where beatings were an everyday occurrence inside the Ascending Dragon Sect was the only world he knew.
‘Unlike me, Eight-Seven lived outside before coming here. Those must be the other people he talked about. Well, they do look interesting.’
Their clothes were different from his, and they carried all sorts of strange objects.
Number 48 had never once left the Ascending Dragon Sect, so his experience of the world was painfully limited.
Naturally, everything fascinated him.
This was his first time seeing outsiders with his own eyes.
Before long, other sects took their places on either side of the Ascending Dragon Sect.
Ironblood Hall stood to the left, while the Tiger Fang Gang stood to the right.
Every sect gathered here was a subordinate force of Hegemon Fortress.
Together, they were the “Hegemon Fortress Alliance.”
‘Then where’s Hegemon Fortress? They must be the strongest, right?’
Number 48 swept his gaze around.
Yet he saw no one who struck him as particularly powerful.
‘What? Nobody looks all that strong.’
There were plenty of vicious-looking men.
But the presence they gave off was nothing remarkable.
He did not know it, but this was how things always were.
Despite these battles being fought for Hegemon Fortress, its own people almost never appeared on the battlefield.
Even when they did appear, they often did not participate in the fighting.
They merely stood in the rear with their arms crossed and watched.
Poke, poke.
Number 87 jabbed Number 48 in the side.
“I-I’ve s-seen p-people like th-that before. W-When I was l-little. P-People who k-k-killed my f-father.”
Number 87 pointed toward Ironblood Hall.
Beads of sweat had formed across his forehead.
His head was bowed deeply, and he looked utterly terrified.
‘What’s with him? He wasn’t even like this when the Instructors beat him. Oh, right. He said bandits killed his father, didn’t he? Were they really that scary?’
They were not Number 87’s enemies.
Ironblood Hall was not a bandit gang either.
Their appearance, however, was remarkably similar.
Disheveled hair, untrimmed beards, ragged clothing, and crude-looking weapons.
Bandits and ignorant unorthodox martial artists dressed much the same.
They acted much the same too.
Just like those men….
“Let’s go! Time to have some fun!”
“WOOOOOO!”
“I’ll be taking some orthodox bastards’ heads today!”
“You? Bullshit. Bwahahaha….”
The men erupted into coarse shouts and profanity.
Their speech and behavior were every bit as rough as their clothing.
Like bandits….
While Number 48 stared blankly at the members of Ironblood Hall, even more sects came pouring in from behind.
No one had done anything, yet the place was already packed simply from the number of people.
They gathered like clouds, but showed no sign of fighting among themselves.
That meant their opponents must belong to another group.
“Um… Instructor. I heard we’re going to fight, but who exactly are we fighting?”
‘Crap.’
Number 48 hurriedly covered his mouth.
He was only a member of the Iron Dragon Corps, yet he had dared speak first to someone from the Silver Dragon Corps.
Hwang In-gwang scowled fiercely.
“You bastard. Trying to make it obvious this is your first time?”
Fortunately, he did not raise his hand.
“Well… I’m sorry. I only asked because they said we had to fight….”
“Ha. Fight? You? Don’t talk nonsense. Didn’t anyone tell you to focus on the inner arts transmission?”
“They did.”
“Haa….”
He had his dignity to consider.
The very idea that he had to answer every question some Iron Dragon Corps brat asked him….
Still, he answered.
Number 48’s skill could very well end up determining whether Hwang In-gwang lived or died.
“You really don’t know anything. We’re fighting the Orthodox Allied Forces.”
“The Orthodox Allied Forces?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are we fighting them?”
“Why do you have so many damn questions?! We follow the unorthodox path—we’re an unorthodox faction. So obviously we fight those orthodox bastards who follow the orthodox path. Are you thick in the skull?”
Number 48 still understood nothing.
If Hwang In-gwang said they were an unorthodox faction, then he supposed they were.
But why did that mean they had to fight an orthodox faction?
More importantly, what was an unorthodox faction in the first place?
And what was an orthodox faction?
“What… are those?”
SMACK.
As expected.
Hwang In-gwang’s fist struck Number 48 on the head.
“You stupid bastard. What don’t you understand? We’re the unorthodox faction, and the bastards we’re fighting are the orthodox faction.”
There was a reason Hwang In-gwang grew irritated yet failed to give a proper answer.
The truth was, he did not really know either.
He had fought in dozens upon dozens of battles.
Yet he did not know why they had to fight.
From the time he passed through the Iron Dragon Corps until he entered the Silver Dragon Corps, not a single person had ever taught him the reason.
Those above ordered him to fight, so he fought.
He had never studied letters or properly read a book.
No matter where he looked, everyone around him was equally ignorant.
And it was not merely a matter of whether they could read.
They had been beaten so much since childhood that, at some point, they had simply given up thinking for themselves.
“So the people we’re fighting are orthodox martial artists. I heard there are sometimes wanderers mixed in too….”
“Wanderers?”
“Swordsmen who roam around alone wherever they damn well please. Is there anything you know? Damn, you’re frustrating.”
SMACK.
Hwang In-gwang gave Number 48 another hearty blow to the head, then turned forward as though nothing had happened.
‘Ah… shit.’
He had struck him so hard that tears sprang to Number 48’s eyes.
Even as Number 48 clutched the swelling lump on his head, more people continued to arrive.
There had to be close to two thousand rough-looking men.
‘There really are a lot of people in the world. Then… are all these people unorthodox like us?’
Every one of them belonged to a subordinate force of Hegemon Fortress.
In other words, they were the Hegemon Fortress Alliance.
Number 48 had always thought there were many people in the Ascending Dragon Sect.
The Non-Dragon Hall where he had lived was little more than a cramped wooden shack, yet it was always packed with people.
But this place looked ten times as crowded.
Everything fascinated Number 48.
‘More importantly, wanderers? They roam around? You can actually do that? Don’t the Instructors beat them?’
That single word shattered everything he thought he knew about the world.
Hwang In-gwang’s words.
“Alone wherever they please.”
His heart began to pound.
‘A wanderer…. Freely traveling the world….’
Inside his mind, a new world and a new desire began to stir.
He had been looking around for quite some time when it happened.
WHOOOOOSH….
Across the plain of Scattered Gorge Mountain.
With the roar of a harsh wind, a cloud of pale dust rose from the far side of the plain.
Number 48 saw Hwang In-gwang’s back twitch.
‘The people we’re supposed to fight… Are those the Orthodox Allied Forces? The orthodox martial artists?’
Their numbers looked similar.
There seemed to be around two thousand on that side as well.
‘Wow… Can people really be that clean?’
They were far away, so he could not see clearly, but the difference was obvious at a glance.
Number 48 had thought even the Ascending Dragon Sect’s Golden Dragon Corps looked clean and impressive.
The Orthodox Allied Forces were on an entirely different level.
Clean garments.
Hair neatly combed back and tied.
Even slender swords that flashed sharply beneath the sunlight.
‘Huh? Those bastards don’t look much different from us….’
He found it strange that here and there among them were people dressed as shabbily as members of the Non-Dragon Corps.
He learned later.
There had been beggars mixed among the orthodox forces.
The Beggars’ Sect.
BWOOOOOO….
At that moment, the deep blast of a conch horn rang out from behind them.
“Advance! Advance!”
Ironblood Hall, the Ascending Dragon Sect, and the Tiger Fang Gang, all positioned at the very front, slowly began moving forward.
‘Huh? Why are we going forward? I still don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.’
His body moved before he could organize his thoughts.
No, the entire formation was already moving, so he was simply swept along with it.
Like a wave.
One step.
Then another.
Before he realized it, the distance between them and the people called the orthodox faction had grown steadily shorter.
“Charge! Exterminate the filthy unorthodox bastards!”
A rough shout erupted from the opposite side.
At the same moment, the entire Orthodox Allied Forces launched the first attack.
And Number 48’s eyes widened.
‘What…? People can move like that?’
The first and second rows blocked most of his view, but even that glimpse was enough.
Their movements.
They were unlike anything Number 48 had ever imagined.
People leaped enormous distances.
Others ran so quickly they left afterimages behind.
Some even seemed to fly through the sky.
They crisscrossed chaotically through the air and closed the distance in an instant.
Number 48 stared, utterly entranced by a sight he had never witnessed in his life.
“Everyone, halt! Maintain formation!”
Jang Woo-geun’s roar thundered across the plain.
Not only the members of the Ascending Dragon Sect, but every martial artist in the vanguard stopped in place at once.
‘They’re charging straight at us with swords. Why do the Golden Dragon Corps members look so calm? Is this really all right?’
Their expressions were far too peaceful.
Some even wore smiles.
As though this situation were completely familiar to them.
“Wait. Not yet. Draw them in a little farther.”
The Golden Dragon Corps members smirked and ran their hands over the grips of their greatswords and great sabers.
They even smacked their lips.
“Yeah. Come on.”
“They got their asses handed to them like this before, and they’re charging in the same way again? Guess those orthodox bastards are every bit as stupid. Heh.”
At last, the Orthodox Allied Forces drew within striking distance.
Their slender swords sliced through the air, and thousands of strands of sword energy poured forth.
What was that?
It was mesmerizing.
Hundreds of streaks of light seemed to scatter like falling raindrops.
There was nothing strange about Number 48 being astonished by the orthodox martial artists.
Nothing so intricate or dazzling existed in the Ascending Dragon Sect.
“Now. Unleash the Heaven-Revolving Mighty Path.”
The instant Jang Woo-geun gave the command, the greatswords and great sabers slipped from the hands of the Golden Dragon Corps members standing in the first row.
No.
They had not fallen.
Only an inch.
The hilts had moved barely an inch away from their palms and now hung suspended in midair.
It was difficult to tell whether the Ascending Dragon Sect’s weapons could even be called swords.
Greatswords and great sabers larger than a human body.
Brutish lumps of iron whose weight easily exceeded that of a grown man.
How could such masses of iron possibly hang in the air?
Then inner force poured into them.
A bluish glow enveloped the greatswords and great sabers.
The massive weapons began to turn slowly.
Then faster.
Round and round.
As they gained speed, the great sabers formed circular shields.
Yet their sheer size and thickness made it almost embarrassing to call them shields.
They were better described as moving fortress walls.
The orthodox martial arts were intricate and dazzling?
This was the Ascending Dragon Sect.
They had no need for such things.
Instead, they possessed such absurd reserves of inner arts that they could recklessly pour power into weapons larger than people and swing them around like toys.
That alone was the Ascending Dragon Sect’s weapon.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG… CLANG.
Dozens of strands of sword energy struck the wall of greatswords created by the Golden Dragon Corps members and bounced away helplessly.
Threads of sword energy that thin could never pierce such a solid wall.
This was the technique that had branded the Ascending Dragon Sect as the strongest defensive sect within the Hegemon Fortress Alliance.
The Heaven-Revolving Mighty Path.
A fierce circular sword screen formed by greatswords and great sabers spinning at tremendous speed while saturated with inner arts.
It was a massive and majestic barrier large enough to cover every member standing in formation.
“That damned sword screen… We’ll break through it today no matter what.”
“Do… Do those Ascending Dragon Sect bastards seriously know nothing else?”
“Come out here and fight us properly like martial artists!”
Curses erupted from the mouths of the orthodox martial artists.
The Ascending Dragon Sect had done nothing but defend and had not launched a single attack, so the Orthodox Allied Forces had suffered no casualties whatsoever.
Still, their anger was understandable.
Once greatswords taller than men began spinning, they completely filled the entire front.
The sword energy extending from them made the barrier even larger.
And with their immense inner arts behind it, ordinary attacks could not leave so much as a scratch.
Of course it was infuriating.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG… BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.
The deafening collision of hundreds of strands of sword energy against the Ascending Dragon Sect’s sword screen thundered across the plain.
The booming shockwaves rolled beyond the plain and engulfed all of Scattered Gorge Mountain.
The earth trembled.
Thick clouds of dust billowed upward.
“Ah… Even this attack has no effect?”
“How in the world are we supposed to break through that?”
Lamentations broke out among the orthodox martial artists.
Over the years, they had tried every possible means of breaking through that sword screen.
Yet the Ascending Dragon Sect’s shield had never budged.
There had been times when it nearly broke.
But not once had anyone actually pierced it.
Not in thirty years.
“Not yet. Keep hammering them. Pour in all your inner arts. They’re human too. Their qi centers aren’t boundless seas.”
Directly crossing swords with them was out of the question.
If they tried meeting those crude greatswords, each carrying an enormous amount of inner arts, with their thin blades, the latter would obviously snap with a tiny crack.
So they attacked with sword energy again.
This wave was different from the very texture of the last.
Its momentum was far fiercer than before.
‘These bastards… Are they already going to pour everything they have into this? Aren’t they rushing things?’
Jang Woo-geun’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Second row, Silver Dragon Corps. Use the Transmission Art.”
At the command, the Silver Dragon Corps members placed both hands against the backs of the Golden Dragon Corps members.
A bluish haze began rising gently from their bodies.
Then tremendous inner force flowed into the Golden Dragon Corps members.
The Transmission Art.
It was one of the Ascending Dragon Sect’s peculiar cultivation methods.
A technique that transferred one’s inner force completely into another person.
The Ascending Dragon Sect had never particularly boasted about it, but disciples from other sects who witnessed the feat could only gape.
Forcing one’s inner arts into another person’s body was an extraordinarily dangerous and difficult act.
After receiving a transfusion of inner force from the Silver Dragon Corps, the Golden Dragon Corps members’ greatswords spun even more violently.
The power of the Heaven-Revolving Mighty Path rose explosively in turn.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, KRA-BOOM….
A chain of massive explosions.
The sword energy the Orthodox Allied Forces had hurled forward with such confidence shattered apart in midair.
“…How the hell are we supposed to break through that sword screen?”
The orthodox martial artists stared in disbelief at the sword screen, which had become even sturdier than before.
The barrier showed no sign whatsoever of breaking.
WHUM, WHUM, WHUM, WHUM….
The seasoned Jang Woo-geun maintained the force of the sword screen by carefully regulating the transition between offense and defense and controlling the consumption of inner arts.
Its reputation was well deserved.
On a battlefield like this, the Ascending Dragon Sect’s sword screen truly was a wall of lamentation.
“Iron Dragon Corps. Use the Transmission Art.”
Jang Woo-geun’s order.
This time, it was the Iron Dragon Corps’s turn to transfer their inner force into the Silver Dragon Corps.
At last, Number 48 received his command.
The reason he had been allowed to rise from the Non-Dragon Corps to the Iron Dragon Corps.
He possessed an enormous reserve of inner arts within his qi center.
And he was capable of releasing it outside his body.
This was familiar to him.
No.
More accurately, it was the only thing he knew how to do.
Inner force gathered softly within his qi center before flowing upward along the Governing Vessel of his spine.
A bluish light enveloped his body.
Hwang In-gwang’s broad back stood before him.
The Outer Shoulder Acupoint….
Number 48 placed his palm against it.