The moment the world that had seemed only black and white turned into full color—
Yeon Woo Jin’s attacks finally became visible.
Il Mu Yeong’s pupils widened.
“Th-That’s...”
A technique where the dagger was thrown at speed and then, even faster, chased down and kicked hard to launch it again.
It was his martial art.
Swaaash—
The sound of the air splitting snapped Il Mu Yeong back to himself.
He swiftly swung the Paragang Meteor Blade to deflect the dagger that had flown right up to his face.
The struck dagger spun upward into the sky, and Il Mu Yeong turned toward the spot where Yeon Woo Jin had been.
But Woo Jin was gone.
Looking up in disbelief, he saw Woo Jin grinning as he struck the airborne dagger down again with a heavy kick.
Flash—
Swaash—
“Khugh!”
This time, the distance was too close to dodge without throwing himself aside.
Thunk!
The dagger stabbed deep into the ground, spiderweb cracks spreading around the impact.
Il Mu Yeong hurled the Paragang Meteor Blade toward Woo Jin still hanging in midair.
At the same time, he extended his fore and middle fingers toward the blade, pouring concentration into it.
Vmmm—
Around the Paragang Meteor Blade flying at Woo Jin, dagger-shaped red sword-qi burst forth.
Heavenly Slaughter Invincible Art – Instant-Kill Heart Blades.
The red dagger-qi sealed off every angle around Woo Jin.
In the air, there was no ground to leap from—dodging space was limited.
The attack exploited that weakness.
But Il Mu Yeong did not know—
That Yeon Woo Jin could move in midair just as he could on solid ground.
Bang!
Woo Jin slid sideways in an instant, slipping past the assault. Il Mu Yeong froze in shock.
It was as if invisible transparent platforms lay beneath his feet.
Stepping on Empty Air ?
Crossing the Void Path ?
No lightness skill could ever produce such movement.
Rrrumble—
The ground trembled. A dreadful sensation surged up Il Mu Yeong’s spine.
He shot a glance downward.
Something was surging up ferociously from beneath the earth.
Trusting instinct, Il Mu Yeong threw himself aside.
Thoom!
A dagger erupted from the ground where he had just stood.
It seemed to arc back toward Woo Jin—but then veered, roaring toward Il Mu Yeong instead.
His eyes nearly tore apart in disbelief.
Around Woo Jin’s dagger had formed dagger-shaped blue sword-qi.
It was the Instant-Kill Heart Blades of his own Heavenly Slaughter Invincible ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Art.
“To imitate it after seeing it once...”
Could he believe this?
And worse—the shapes around Woo Jin’s dagger were sharper, clearer than his own.
That could only mean one thing—
Woo Jin’s internal force was deeper, his realm higher.
And it did not stop there.
Il Mu Yeong could produce five Heart Blades at most.
But Yeon Woo Jin?
He had conjured more than ten.
“Grhhk!”
Mustering every last ounce of strength, Il Mu Yeong twisted away from the storm of blades and dagger.
Slash—slish—
His robes tore, his skin was cut.
But he survived.
Il Mu Yeong admitted it.
Woo Jin was truly strong.
No—strong was insufficient to describe it.
For the first time, he could understand how Yeon Cheon Baek might lose.
Continuing this fight was meaningless.
Il Mu Yeong opened his mouth to yield—
But Woo Jin’s voice came.
“This art is quite good. If one could unfold not just ten, but hundreds at once, it would be nearly invincible.”
Il Mu Yeong let out a short laugh.
Hundreds?
Not even Yeon Cheon Baek could do that.
There was no one in the Central Plains capable of such a thing. If there were, it would be a god.
And then—
Il Mu Yeong witnessed the impossible.
Blue dagger-shaped sword-qi spread across the entire sky.
A hundred at least, perhaps more.
And still multiplying.
In the end, the sky was blanketed with blades.
“Un... unbelievable.”
Il Mu Yeong gaped at Woo Jin.
The young man did not even seem strained.
That meant this was not his full power.
Il Mu Yeong realized it.
This was the true Heavenly Slaughter Invincible Art.
Not even gods could evade this.
“Thank you for the excellent martial art. You don’t mind if I use it, right?”
Woo Jin asked with a bright smile.
Il Mu Yeong quietly nodded.
Woo Jin smiled wider.
“Thank you. As repayment, I’ll make you stronger.”
Stronger?
The thought had barely formed when—
All the countless Heart Blades surged toward him at once.
I’ll die.
The fear of death crashed down.
I want to live.
Il Mu Yeong threw himself into desperate defense.
Had they been ordinary daggers, he could never have blocked them.
Even a handful would have shattered his weapon.
But with the Paragang Meteor Blade, he managed.
Kagagagangg—!
He did not yet know—
That his road of trial had only just begun.
****
A year passed inside the Time-Space Division Formation.
Outside, only twelve days had gone by.
In that year within the formation, they all grew stronger.
Ma Ryang and Cheon Ho Seong broke through to the long-desired Mythic Realm.
Jeok Seong reached the Twelfth Star of the Manifestation Realm.
Il Mu Yeong ascended to the Third Star of the Mythic Realm, and Yeon Cheon Baek advanced as well, to the Seventh Star of the Mythic Realm.
Lee Hwa Un attained the Twelfth Star of the Transformation Realm.
Hwa Sogwang and Yeo Hwarin reached the Eleventh Star.
Jang Woon and Seon Woo Baek rose to the Eleventh Level of the Transformation Realm.
They were now the strongest contenders in the Divine Dragon Tournament.
The final battle was already certain—between those two.
All that remained was to enjoy it.
Those who emerged from the formation wore bright faces.
The hellish time was over.
Everything felt joyous, everything felt worthy of gratitude.
They had come to understand deeply the importance of a life with leisure.
There were changes, too.
They no longer demanded five meals a day, nor did they order a hundred portions each time.
Il Mu Yeong fully acknowledged Yeon Woo Jin as the inevitable successor to become Martial Deity Heaven Lord.
And yet he still followed Yeon Cheon Baek like a shadow.
For to him, his lord could only ever be Yeon Cheon Baek.
Ma Ryang burned with resolve.
The day he met again the wretch who had shamed him, he would return the disgrace in full.
Woo Jin had permitted it.
Your revenge is yours to take.
But he had warned: If you lose again, this time I’ll truly be disappointed.
The thought of disappointing Woo Jin drove Ma Ryang to vow he would crush that bastard utterly.
His only regret was that though he remembered the man’s face, he could not recall the place where he had been captured.
Still, he did not despair.
If that man was of the Demonic Cult, they were destined to meet again.
Woo Jin, too, regretted it.
If Ma Ryang’s memory had been whole, they could have tracked the location.
It would have yielded tremendous information.
But he did not rush.
Haste could ruin everything.
At least he had raised Ma Ryang into the Mythic Realm. Next time they met, he would not fall so easily.
And Woo Jin had done one thing more—
He had planted his qi within Ma Ryang.
If danger came, it would protect him, and at the same time reveal his location.
Then Woo Jin could teleport instantly to save him.
And not just Ma Ryang—he had planted his qi in them all.
So that if crisis struck, he could come.
The near-loss of Ma Ryang had shaken him deeply.
Woo Jin’s resolve was clear: he would not lose a single one of his precious people.
****
The Divine Dragon Tournament.
An event held in the Central Plains for generations.
It was the moment when sects unveiled their most cherished successors, the late-blooming talents they had nurtured, to test their skills and glimpse what place they might one day hold in the martial world.
The victor received not only a title but also the glory of being the Tournament Champion.
And the sect that produced them rose in prestige.
Though called a gathering for fellowship, in truth the competition was ferocious.
Sect pride was on the line.
And none clashed more fiercely than the heirs of the orthodox and demonic factions.
The demonic side had long harbored resentment.
It had been many years since a demonic heir last took victory.
Never again since.
Now they were determined to seize the title.
Thus, the Divine Dragon Tournament was not merely about sect honor, but an unseen battle of wills between the orthodox and the demonic.
Yet it also served as a buffer, a rare space where the two sides could engage under strict truce, and a fragile bridge of fellowship.
During the Tournament, conflict was strictly forbidden.
Any who violated it would be branded a public enemy of the martial world.
Such could not survive.
Until exterminated, every sect orthodox or demonic would strike them down.
And now, people from every sect were arriving at Mount Hua, where the Tournament was to be held.
The Nine Schools and One Gang, the Five Great Clans—arriving, unpacking.
The heads of the Five Great Clans were searching for someone.
Yeon Woo Jin.
“He’s not here... it seems he hasn’t arrived yet.”
Pang Hon, head of the Hebei Pang Clan, said with a sullen look.
Zhuge Mun-yeok, head of the Zhuge Clan, smiled.
“He should be on his way. From what I’ve heard, he’s been staying at an inn in Xi’an.”
“Truly? I wish to meet him quickly.”
“As do I.”
Namgoong Cheon, head of the Namgoong Clan, cut in.
“I hear the Pang Clan’s been boasting that they were his first vassals. Is that true?”
“Not untrue, is it?”
“Nonsense. Before the Pang Clan, our Namgoong Clan was at his side. Do you not know where our lord established his base?”
“As I recall, you weren’t serving him yet then.”
“In our hearts, we already were. We merely awaited the chance.”
“Hmph! In your hearts only. We declared it openly first. That makes us the first clan to serve him.”
The head of the Hwangbo Clan interjected.
“Nonsense! We were first. The Hwangbo Clan proclaimed it before all.”
“I never heard such a thing.”
“You can ask the lord himself when he arrives. You’ll see—the Hwangbo were first.”
As the three clans squabbled, the head of the Tang Clan finally spoke.
“First, second—what does it matter? In the end, what matters is strength. You’ll see—the one to become the lord’s vassal house will be our Tang Clan.”
“Hah! You think we’ll sit idle and let that happen?”
As the Five Great Clans bickered, a new presence appeared.
Gwangpung Shinga of the Beggars’ Sect.
“Tsk tsk. The great clan heads, squabbling without shame.”
“Shinga, we’re in the middle of something important. Mind your own business.”
“Right. This isn’t for the Beggars’ Sect to meddle in.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Do you think merit comes from bickering? You should be finding what the lord seeks—like I have.”
“What the lord seeks?”
“That’s right! The Demonic Tiger Relic.”
“...Surely not?”
All eyes turned toward him.
Shinga pulled something from his ragged jacket.
A map.
“This shows the place where the Demonic Tiger Relic lies. Hahaha! Our Beggars’ Sect scoured the world to find it.”
“Have you confirmed it’s real?”
“Well... the place lies beyond the reach of our martial world, so we could not confirm directly. But I am certain. Countless warriors guard it under iron defense.”