A sharp clang echoed through the air as Hyunbaek and Daerang clashed, then separated, creating distance between them. Daerang glanced at his sword, now chipped, and let out a low growl.

“The difference in weaponry is significant, but…”

More than anything, Hyunbaek was strong.

Daerang, who had faced numerous skilled fighters from major sects like the Five Great Families and the Seven Heavenly Sects, thought he could easily handle a first-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect.

But the Plum Blossom Swordsmen’s skills were beyond his expectations.

Even when they clashed head-on with the renowned Saljinrang of Langya, they weren’t pushed back; they were pushing forward.

“Hmph! I wondered why you hadn’t used the famous Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Formation. Now I see why.”

In response to Daerang’s remark, Hyunbaek answered with a swift strike from the Plum Blossom Stream.

Daerang twisted his body to narrowly avoid the attack, but the plum blossom sword curved gracefully through the air, splitting into countless branches like a tree. The sharp strikes aimed at his vital points forced Daerang to spin and resist fiercely.

Yet, even as he fought, Daerang skillfully assessed the battlefield. Years of leading Saljinrang had honed this instinct.

“We’re at a disadvantage.”

The Plum Blossom Swordsmen were a unique group, mixing first and second-generation disciples. Daerang aimed to exploit the weaker second-generation disciples.

Targeting an enemy’s weakness is a basic strategy. However, when Saljinrang faced the Plum Blossom Swordsmen, he realized the second-generation disciples weren’t weak at all.

The second-generation disciples, each facing a rogue from Saljinrang, held their ground better than expected. At worst, they were only a move or two behind.

“And those Mount Hua disciples!”

While fending off unpredictable sword winds, Daerang glanced at the three second-generation disciples surrounded by rogues.

Mujin, Mucheol, and Muhwa.

They were known as the Mount Hua Trio, and they were holding off several rogues each, displaying skills superior to the first-generation disciples.

This nullified Saljinrang’s numerical advantage over the Plum Blossom Swordsmen in an instant.

“Hey, to the left!”

“That young one fights well.”

Three rogues pressed Mujin from three sides. As Mujin deflected their twin swords and iron rods, he noticed a rogue advancing from the left and unleashed the Plum Blossom Mountain Water technique, a skill he had recently mastered.

The rogue on the left, using open-hand techniques, launched a double palm strike, but Mujin didn’t miss the glint inside the rogue’s sleeve.

Thwip!

As the rogue feigned a double palm strike, needles shot out from both sleeves—a cowardly trick used by those who cared little for honor.

But Mujin remained unfazed. His martial arts and experience were not so easily shaken. His hand twisted, scattering the force of the petals, redirecting the needles back at the two rogues.

Spinning in the opposite direction, Mujin severed the arms of the rogue who had launched the double palm strike.

“Agh!”

As the rogue’s arms spun through the air, Mujin unleashed a fierce plum blossom strike at the rogues who had just deflected the needles.

At that moment, Daerang, who had turned his head after deflecting Hyunbaek’s sword, widened his eyes. He had momentarily lost track of Mujin’s movements.

When three plum blossoms bloomed where Mujin had been, the rogues facing him fell, blood spraying.

After dispatching his opponents, Mujin leapt to aid another second-generation disciple, catching Daerang’s attention. Hyunbaek’s voice came from alarmingly close.

“You’re quite concerned about your disciple, aren’t you?”

Daerang realized his mistake in giving Mujin too much attention. In a life-and-death battle, even a small mistake can lead to great harm.

Swoosh!

Hyunbaek’s sword showed no mercy to Daerang, who had been distracted. It sliced across his chest and then severed his right arm, causing him to drop his sword.

“Ugh!”

With one knee on the ground, Daerang felt the cold steel of the Plum Blossom Sword at his throat.

“Any last words?”

“What last words would a rogue have?”

“Then, go in peace.”

Hyunbaek swiftly ended Daerang’s life. The notorious deeds of Saljinrang and the Langya rogues were well-known, leaving Hyunbaek with no choice but to show no mercy.

“Big brother!”

“Daerang!”

The rogues fighting the Plum Blossom Swordsmen cried out as Daerang’s head fell, but they soon faced Hyunbaek’s violet sword strikes.

Following Mujin and Hyunbaek’s lead, the Plum Blossom Swordsmen began to take down the Saljinrang rogues one by one. The rogues’ fangs couldn’t pierce the Plum Blossom Swordsmen’s defenses.

* * *

News of Saljinrang’s annihilation by the Plum Blossom Swordsmen and the defeat of the Rogue King by the Mount Hua Sword Saint spread quickly down Mount Okhwa. The martial artists who had been eyeing the Dragon Subduing Staff, as well as the Langya rogues, fled in haste.

The beggars of the Beggar Sect who climbed to the summit of Mount Okhwa were in a sorry state. Each was bleeding, and their tattered rags were torn to shreds, barely covering their bodies.

It was clear how fiercely and with what resolve the beggars had fought.

The Sojeongdae, who had ascended the mountain with the beggars, were in a similar state. Though their faces showed exhaustion, their eyes were clear. Today’s battle had proven their worth as a martial force.

“Leader…”

Seeing the body of the Wind King, which Muhee had recovered, the Beggar Sect elder lowered his head. Having lost his right arm to the Rogue King, the elder now had his left eye bandaged, possibly lost in the battle.

“Please forgive these inadequate followers for arriving so late.”

The elder wept tears like chicken droppings from his remaining eye as he looked at the Wind King’s body, which bore the marks of the Rogue King’s cruelty. The sight was heart-wrenching for the beggars.

“Leader!”

“Oh no…”

As the elder knelt before the Wind King’s body, the beggars who had climbed with him also knelt and bowed their heads.

The sound of someone sobbing grew into a chorus of wails.

Though no rain fell, the earth and rocks at the summit of Mount Okhwa were damp, darkening in color.

The Plum Blossom Swordsmen and Sojeongdae, who had stepped back, watched the grieving beggars with somber expressions.

“Sniff.”

Tears welled up in Muhwa’s large eyes, but he tried not to cry, his eyes trembling. Muhee, placing a hand on Muhwa’s shoulder, suddenly turned his gaze.

Muhee’s sharp eyes scanned the opposite peak, but there was nothing there.

“Was it my imagination?”

He had felt a faint gaze, prompting him to stare at the peak for a long time. Mujin, curious about Muhee’s distraction, whispered.

“What’s wrong, senior brother?”

“Nothing.”

Muhee shook his head and turned back to the grieving beggars.

As the summit of Mount Okhwa filled with the sound of mourning, one of the beggars began to sing a sorrowful tune.

“The beggars of the Beggar Sect roam the world with the Dragon Subduing Staff as their cane.”

Another beggar responded.

“Using the earth as their pillow and the sky as their blanket, there is no place a beggar cannot rest.”

It was the first song every beggar learned upon joining the sect. Every beggar knew it, and those who had been crying began to sing along.

“The indomitable spirit of the beggars cannot be stopped or contained by anyone.”

The beggars, who had been weeping with their heads bowed, began to lift their heads and sing in unison.

“The soaring spirit of the Beggar Sect can even subdue the dragons of the sky.”

Finally, the elder, with his bloodshot eye, looked at the Wind King’s face and sang the last verse.

“The righteous spirit of the Dragon Subduing Staff. This is the beggars of the Beggar Sect.”

Having sung the Beggar’s Song to belatedly comfort the Wind King’s soul, the beggars rose as one and paid their respects to him.

“You’ve done well. Don’t worry about what comes next. Rest in peace, leader.”

The elder placed a bottle of the Wind King’s favorite fire wine beside the body. As the beggars shook off their sorrow, Muhee handed the Dragon Subduing Staff to the elder.

“Elder, please take this.”

The elder, with his right arm gone, accepted it with one hand, cradling the staff as if it were a precious treasure.

“Sword Saint, and all of you from the Plum Blossom Swordsmen and Sojeongdae, the Beggar Sect will never forget this debt.”

The beggars of the Beggar Sect looked at Muhui with eyes full of respect, then bowed their heads in unison, clasping their hands in a gesture of salute. Muhui quietly returned the gesture, folding his hands in response.

“Though Nangwang’s energy center has been destroyed, it seems only right for the Beggar Sect to handle the final matters,” Muhui said, glancing at Nangwang, who was tied to a tree. The elder of the Beggar Sect nodded in agreement.

“We are grateful for the Sword Saint’s consideration.”

With that, the Plum Blossom Swordmaster and Sojeongdae descended the mountain first, leaving the beggars with Nangwang at the summit. Nangwang chuckled bitterly at the beggars surrounding him.

“Heh. Beggars. How pathetic. Relying on others to exact your revenge. The Wind King would be ashamed.”

Despite Nangwang’s taunts, the elder’s gaze remained steady. In a dry voice, he asked, “Have you said all you wanted to, Nangwang?”

The beggars began to pick up their bamboo sticks one by one.

“Let me show you why they’re called bamboo sticks, you wretch.”

Faced with the sight of dozens of bamboo sticks, Nangwang could only laugh.

“Heh heh.”

As Nangwang and the beggars disappeared, silence returned to the summit of Okhwa Mountain. Watching from a peak opposite, a man observed the scene.

“Did he sense my gaze? He’s more perceptive than I thought.”

Recalling the moment Muhui had turned his head, the man clasped his hands behind his back and vanished into the shadows.

* * *

Jongnam Mountain.

“Master Seonju, the enemies have retreated.”

Seonju, wiping blood from her face, sighed in relief at her disciple’s report.

“That’s a relief.”

“Master, aren’t you pushing yourself too hard?”

The disciple looked worriedly at the pile of fallen warriors near Seonju. Sensing the concern, Seonju smiled gently and patted the disciple’s head.

“It’s alright. I’m the strongest among the senior disciples, remember?”

“That’s true. Even among the masters, few can match you.”

As Seonju and her disciple returned to the main camp, a sense of unease lingered. The provocations from the Overlord Fortress had been relentless, yet recently, something felt lacking.

Compared to previous attacks, it seemed as if they were merely testing the waters.

‘The sects of Sichuan are fiercely resisting with the support of the Martial Alliance. Maybe that’s why the focus on Jongnam Sect has lessened.’

If her thoughts were correct, it would be a relief. But having faced the Overlord Fortress before, Seonju knew their persistence all too well.

She hoped that the small sense of foreboding she felt, like the calm before a storm, was nothing more than unfounded worry.