Chapter – 62
Jinhwa looked up at the distant sky.
On the way to the capital, there had been a single star—faint, but still shining.
Now it was gone.
Only fierce snowfall filled his vision.
Jinhwa’s eyes remained fixed on the empty heavens.
So… he lost.
He had been a noble man.
—Have you changed your mind?
Which was precisely why he was easy to use.
Jinhwa knew that Mo Yonghwi was running out of time.
For the two of them, this was the only chance.
—Your wall-facing meditation bore fruit!
If the ending was already decided, it would be easier for both of them to part without knowing the truth.
“At least… not all of it.”
Jinhwa lowered his gaze.
“I will grant you half of your revenge.”
The palace doors his eyes landed on were torn apart and flung aside.
The Imperial Hall
The interior of the audience hall was vast.
Though it was merely a place for handling routine affairs, its width and height were impossible to take in at a glance.
At the far end of the neatly laid stone floor sat a middle-aged man.
He wore winter garments adorned with bear fur on the shoulders.
The Emperor—Zhu Di.
The fine brush that had been gliding across documents came to a halt.
“An assassin?”
Kwa-kwung—
A bolt of lightning crashed down outside the hall.
As darkness swallowed the world once more, the black figure’s true face was revealed.
A strange light flickered in the Emperor’s eyes.
“The first assassin to show his face. And to infiltrate through the front gate, no less.”
Jinhwa strode confidently across the stone floor.
“I bear no personal grudge. This is merely necessity.”
The Emperor leaned back against his throne instead.
“All who seek me do so for the same reason—”
Crash!
The lacquered cabinet behind him exploded apart.
A thin red line appeared on the Emperor’s earlobe.
Blood dripped onto the fur on his shoulder.
“Is it arrogance… or confidence? Is the martial path you revere one that doesn’t even measure its opponent?”
The Emperor casually wiped away the blood.
“That can’t be. I had already discerned that you’re no mere assassin.”
He looked down at his bloodstained hand.
“I have something to rely on.”
“Rely on?”
At the same moment Jinhwa questioned him, four figures rose at the Emperor’s side.
Their faces were all familiar—renowned throughout the martial world.
Huangbo Sung, Unstoppable Advance (一往無前).
Wei Yan, Four-Finger Thousand Swords (四指千劍).
Peng Jingyeon, the Sword Emperor (劍帝).
And Meng Wei, Golden Armored Dragon (金甲龍), the current commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
The Ten Emperors—no, four of the Ten Emperors.
The Emperor leaned back once more.
“I truly didn’t expect you to come.”
* * *
Jinhwa’s once-confident step faltered.
Wei Yan, standing beside the Emperor, placed a hand on his sword.
He had been thinking the same thing.
He really came.
From the very beginning, Kang Yu had foreseen this situation.
It was right after Wei Yan had delivered the request to track down the murderer in Shaanxi.
—Assassination…?
Even then, he had his doubts.
—Your reasoning makes sense, but if that man never appears in the capital…
Before Kang Yu could finish, Wei Yan had already begun preparations to head for the capital.
—Then we chalk it up as a wasted trip.
—…
The more he thought about it, the more correct it seemed.
One wasted trip versus the Emperor’s life.
There was no comparison.
And that preparation—which might have been in vain—had instead become a flawless response.
So young, yet already at the pinnacle of mastery.
A broad vision that gazed far beyond the present.
A heart filled with deeper righteousness and chivalry than anyone else’s.
And a terrifying mind capable of predicting the future.
—A blessing indeed. Sent by Maitreya himself.
Just as Great Master Museong had said—thanks to a being bestowed by the heavens, they were finally facing the head of the enemy.
The mastermind behind the Central Plains bloodshed that the Beggar Sect and Golden Bell Order had chased for years without even touching his trail.
Face to face, he was indeed extraordinary.
But here stood four of the Ten Emperors.
At that moment, the mastermind spoke.
“How did you prepare?”
For Jinhwa, this was a genuine mystery.
The plan to assassinate the Emperor using Mo Yonghwi as bait was known only to him.
There was no way it could have leaked.
Wei Yan drew in a breath.
“That is—”
Meng Wei, the current commander and fellow Emperor, cut in.
“It was thanks to Wei Danju’s subordinates. A strategy devised by a youngster whose fame is rising—Changcheon Shinryong.”
Wei Yan stiffened.
“Commander, why would you—!”
Wei Yan had intended to keep Kang Yu’s involvement completely hidden.
Kang Yu had already drawn too much attention from his exploits at the Namgung Clan and Tang Family.
There was no benefit in attracting further notice.
He had even given advance warning.
Meng Wei chuckled lightly.
“You worry too much, Danju. Have you forgotten who stands gathered here—including yourself?”
Drawing his sword, Meng Wei aimed it at Jinhwa, ten paces away.
“Surrender. The outcome is already decided.”
A pale-white aura gathered along his blade.
“If you do, your crime of entering the imperial hall will be reduced to mere dismemberment.”
“……”
Jinhwa’s gaze passed over Meng Wei’s sword and slowly examined each of the Ten Emperors.
His lips moved quietly.
“Huangbo Sung of Unstoppable Advance.
Wei Yan of Four-Finger Thousand Swords.
Peng Jingyeon, the Sword Emperor.
Meng Wei, the Golden Armored Dragon.”
His expression remained calm.
“The Ten Emperors.”
Boom—
“!”
An overwhelming force suddenly crushed down upon all four.
“Ghk!”
This was no illusion or fleeting sensation.
It was pressure with substance.
Even those who had reached the ultimate realm barely managed to remain standing.
Cracks spread across the stone beneath their feet.
“What—what is this?!”
Jinhwa began to walk.
No footwork.
No lightness skill.
Just an ordinary step.
He crossed the ten paces and drew his sword before Meng Wei.
The blade was broken—diagonally snapped.
The shattered edge touched Meng Wei’s chest.
So slow a child could follow it.
No sword qi.
No martial force.
It merely touched.
“This one—”
The broken blade pierced flesh.
“Ku—kugh!”
“C-Commander!”
Jinhwa spoke indifferently.
“Was once the strongest under heaven.”
* * *
“What?”
Flying through the air, Yong Sobak’s head snapped around as he listened to Kang Yu’s words.
A conversation from days ago resurfaced—when he had gone to wake Kang Yu in his room.
—The enemy’s true target lies elsewhere. That’s why Danju left his post as well.
—What nonsense is that? Are you saying you know where Wei Yan is right now?
—I asked him.
—Asked him what?!
Yong Sobak trailed off.
“Then that ‘trade secret’ excuse back then was…”
“I’m sorry. It was agreed that only Danju and I would know for now.”
Yong Sobak flared up.
“You brat! As if I’d blab—kh!”
Mid-flight, Yong Sobak clutched his waist.
The shock from the previous blow hadn’t fully subsided.
His speed dropped sharply.
“Go on ahead.”
“G-grandfather!”
“I said go!”
Gritting his teeth, Kang Yu accelerated.
The Azure Wall Master slowed his pace.
Yong Sobak’s complexion was far too pale.
“I’ll stay.”
“You go too!”
“But—”
“You’re going to dump everything on the kid?!”
Yong Sobak barked, gasping for breath.
“Go. I won’t die from something like this.”
The remaining three exchanged glances.
“Please rest.”
Museong, the Azure Wall Master, and Hyeonje rushed after Kang Yu.
As soon as they vanished from sight, Yong Sobak fell from the tree line.
“Kh…”
Branches and leaves shattered beneath him, covering his body like a shroud.
Even for Yong Sobak, blocking Mo Yonghwi’s strike with only protective qi had been too much.
That he had even managed to move was a miracle.
—Go. I won’t die from something like this.
Contrary to his bravado, his internal energy churned violently.
Lying flat on the ground, he stared at the empty sky.
“Well then… perhaps this is better.”
* * *
Meng Wei, still standing, coughed blood and lowered his head.
“C-Commander…”
One of the Ten Emperors—who once stood above the martial world—had died without landing a single blow.
Not even by martial technique.
Just a slowly pressed blade.
Though unbelievable, the Emperor and the remaining three still could not move.
The binding force was overwhelming.
“Urrrrgh!”
Peng Jingyeon, the Sword Emperor, swelled his muscles.
Renowned both for his ultimate technique, Primal Thunderblade, and monstrous physical strength.
His muscles doubled in size, pushing back against the pressure.
Oppression versus resistance.
The collision of energies warped the air like heat haze.
“RAAAHH!”
His arms and thighs swelled to nearly three times their size.
“—!”
Jinhwa, having withdrawn the sword from Meng Wei, extended a hand.
A pressure far greater than before crushed Peng Jingyeon down.
“Kh!”
The towering giant slowly sank.
Moments later—
“Damn it.”
His massive knees shattered the stone floor.
Even his thick hands were driven into the tiles.
“Kh…”
Even Peng Jingyeon—said to possess the greatest raw power among the Ten—had been subdued.
“This is the authority of primordial external force. Do you think brute strength alone can overcome it?”
Jinhwa stepped forward leisurely.
“The problem was that it was mixed among human forces. I was never afraid of the hollow title of the Ten Emperors. If anything, I’m grateful you gathered in one place.”
He wiped Meng Wei’s blood from his blade and stopped before Wei Yan.
“You are the Golden Bell Order’s Danju?”
“…Who are you?”
Wei Yan strained with all his might, but his body wouldn’t budge.
The blade that had taken Meng Wei’s life slowly approached.
“Ask the Lord of the Underworld.”
“Damn it.”
To end so futilely.
What meaning had all those years of cultivation held?
As if mocking his despair, the broken sword touched his chest.
Suddenly, one face surfaced in his mind.
Yu.
Only three months together—yet filled with countless moments.
He could entrust the future to him.
Wei Yan moved his fingers with all his remaining strength.
Blood seeped into his trousers.
Red characters were carved into the back of his thigh.
Information about the unknown martial art that had neutralized the Ten Emperors.
With foresight like that child’s, he would surely decipher it.
The blade began to cut into flesh.
I leave it to you.
Just as he closed his eyes—
“…Kh.”
“!”
Color drained from Jinhwa’s face.
The binding force vanished like an illusion.
“Daoje!”
It was an opportunity beyond belief.
The remaining Emperors instantly unleashed their life-bound ultimate techniques.
KRA-KRA-KABOOM—!
A roar as if heaven and earth split apart shook the palace.
The floor erupted, the ceiling collapsed.
Struck point-blank, Jinhwa was blasted backward.
Beyond the broken doors, distant shouts echoed.
[The audience hall! All units, converge on the hall!]
Behind him—thousands of imperial guards.
Before him—three Ten Emperors.
“……”
In an instant, Jinhwa vanished into the snow-filled night.
Wei Yan shouted.
“We must pursue! His body has clearly suffered a backlash!”
All of them were warriors who had devoted their lives to martial arts.
They didn’t need explanation—they knew instinctively.
“Your Majesty. Please wait here.”
Led by Wei Yan, Peng Jingyeon and Huangbo Sung leapt outside.
“……”
Jinhwa glanced back as he cut through the snow.
Torches flickered chaotically through the palace grounds.
The Ten Emperors closed in from afar.
—Fool! You think this can stop—
—Ssal!
Jinhwa placed a hand on his dantian.
Commanding primordial power required vast inner energy.
And during its use, the internal injury inflicted by the Namgung Clan’s Pear Blossom Jade Technique had resurfaced.
“……”
Ten years of preparation.
The annihilation of the Five Elements Sect.
Namgung Cheon escaping just before execution.
The grand plan unraveling since the Tang Family.
The death of the Left Minister, a pillar of the sect.
Mo Yonghwi’s defection.
The loss of Jumun Gyuma—like a limb torn away.
And the failed assassination of the Emperor, chosen at the cost of two lives.
And now—
The boundary.
The abyss.
Impermanence.
The snowfall grew even fiercer.
Jinhwa wiped the blood from his lips.
“…You truly are a thorn in my side.”
