Under Jegal Jin’s strategic guidance, the Martial Alliance successfully minimized their losses and consolidated their forces in the city of Changsha. Meanwhile, the Black Night Palace advanced northward, following the retreating front lines. As a result, both the Demon Lord and the Tyrant’s Castle had also entered Changsha.

It was as if the four great powers had agreed to converge on the Plains of Evil Deer. The vast expanse, once seemingly endless, now felt cramped with the sheer number of martial artists gathered there.

Sensing the ever-growing presence, Mu Hui turned to Jegal Jin beside him and asked, “Strategist, what will happen if we clash like this?”

“I’ve prepared several strategies, but the Martial Alliance will suffer irreparable damage. The same goes for the other factions. It’s uncertain if any one power will emerge as the clear victor,” Jegal Jin replied.

In essence, Jegal Jin was saying that regardless of the outcome, the entire martial world would bear significant losses.

Mu Hui turned his gaze to the Martial Alliance’s forces arrayed before him. Among the ranks were disciples from the Mount Hua Sect, including Baek Yu, as well as those from the Seonju and Jongnam Sects, and figures like Dokgo Yul and Dokgo Hwe.

The enemy was formidable, stronger than the Martial Alliance, and the other two factions were unpredictable. There was a real risk that today could mark the end of the Martial Alliance’s legacy.

Standing beside Mu Hui, Hyeop Je spoke up. “Mu Hui, I will lead the charge for the Martial Alliance.”

“The leader himself?” Mu Hui asked, surprised.

“As the head of the faction, it’s not the wisest move. But with you and Sword Sage backing me, I feel confident. If I lead the charge, perhaps we can save even one more life.”

Hyeop Je fiddled with his bamboo hat, his eyes fixed on the Plains of Evil Deer.

Finally tearing his gaze away, Hyeop Je grasped Mu Hui’s hand. “I’ll handle either the Tyrant or the Demon Lord.”

Mu Hui felt the strength in Hyeop Je’s grip. He wasn’t the only one who had grown.

Perhaps it was his duty as the leader that had driven Hyeop Je to break through his limits and reach a higher state.

Mu Hui returned the grip. “Senior, to prevent meaningless deaths, stopping this battle is our best option, isn’t it?”

Hyeop Je’s eyes widened at Mu Hui’s unexpected response. “Do you have a plan?”

“I’m not sure if it will work, but it’s worth a try.”

“Hmm?”

The Sword Sage, who had been listening, spoke up. “Let’s hear it.”

* * *

The Sword Saint, Hyeop Je, and the Sword Sage—three supreme masters—surged ahead of the advancing Martial Alliance forces, leaping into the Plains of Evil Deer.

“Shall we begin?” Mu Hui asked.

“Let’s,” the others agreed.

A powerful wave of energy radiated from the three masters, spreading in all directions. The surrounding vegetation trembled violently as if caught in a storm.

As the energy wave reached across the plains, the advancing forces of each faction came to a halt.

“They’ve stopped for now,” Mu Hui noted, observing the stillness of the plains. Hyeop Je and the Sword Sage nodded in agreement.

“Let’s wait and see,” the Sword Sage suggested.

The energy wave they had released was perceptible only to those of similar mastery. It was a summons to the supreme masters of each faction.

Seeing the movements cease, it was clear they had responded to the call.

“Sword Sage, it’s been a while. You didn’t call us here just for a chat before the battle, did you?” the Demon Lord quipped as he appeared, followed by the Tyrant. Finally, the Palace Lord strolled in leisurely.

“It’s the first time we’ve gathered like this since the founding ceremony of my sect. How have you all been?” the Palace Lord asked with a sly smile.

Hyeop Je’s eyes turned cold at the sight of the Palace Lord. Though he longed to draw his sword, he suppressed his killing intent, having already received reports about the disciple.

“Nice to meet you, Sword Sage,” the Palace Lord greeted with a smooth smile, offering a polite gesture. The Sword Sage nodded in return.

“I won’t say it’s a pleasure, Palace Lord.”

“Sword Sage, why have you summoned us?” the Demon Lord inquired.

“It wasn’t I who called you. It was the Sword Saint of Mount Hua,” the Sword Sage replied, directing the attention of the gathered masters to Mu Hui.

“Sword Saint, why have you gathered us here?” the Tyrant asked.

“There’s one more who hasn’t arrived,” Mu Hui replied, looking towards the Evil Deer Mountain.

“Who do you mean?” the Tyrant pressed.

“Black Heaven,” Mu Hui said, causing the Palace Lord’s lips to twitch. The other masters’ expressions grew tense.

“Is my master here?” the Palace Lord asked, surprised.

“I wasn’t certain at first, but now I am,” Mu Hui confirmed.

“What?” the Palace Lord questioned, but Mu Hui ignored him, channeling his inner power into his voice.

“Black Heaven, show yourself.”

Mu Hui’s voice, imbued with formidable energy, echoed across the plains, reaching every martial artist present. The sound reverberated, creating a powerful resonance.

The technique, known as the Six Harmonies Transmission, ensured that the call reached even the distant Evil Deer Mountain. When the echoes finally faded, the sound of fluttering robes was heard from above. All eyes turned skyward as Black Heaven descended slowly, hands clasped behind his back.

The sound of his robes flapping in the wind, a common noise, now felt as menacing as the unsheathing of a deadly sword.

Seeing Black Heaven for the first time, the Tyrant, the Demon Lord, and Hyeop Je instinctively gathered their inner power, their senses on high alert.

With Black Heaven’s arrival, the atmosphere grew as tense as a frozen wasteland, the air sharp and cold with each breath.

‘This man…’ Hyeop Je thought, feeling a prickling sensation on his skin just from looking at Black Heaven. Realizing his hand had moved towards his sword, he calmed himself.

“Black Heaven, you’ve come,” the Sword Sage greeted, the only one unfazed by the presence of the formidable master. Black Heaven nodded, turning his gaze to Mu Hui.

“Impressive. You’ve advanced enough to sense my presence,” Black Heaven remarked, drawing the attention of the other masters back to Mu Hui, who had been the only one to detect Black Heaven’s presence.

“Is this the place you spoke of?” Mu Hui asked.

Black Heaven surveyed the plains, noting the four banners.

“If you all fall to me, it will be easier to deal with the rest when they’re gathered like this,” Black Heaven said, his meaning clear to all.

The Demon Lord looked intrigued, the Tyrant tilted his head, and Hyeop Je gripped his sword tightly.

“Master, does that include my sect as well?” the Palace Lord asked with a twisted smile, but Black Heaven remained silent, deepening the Palace Lord’s smile.

Black Heaven, observing the gathered masters, spoke again. “But this isn’t what I wanted to see. The Sword Saint has overturned the board.”

“Four factions, martial artists, and supreme masters tangled in a chaotic battle to the death. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Mu Hui replied, causing Black Heaven’s lips to curl.

Black Heaven studied each master in turn. “I wanted a fierce, intense, and desperate clash, where all trivialities are forgotten, and only the intent to kill remains.”

The Demon Lord and the Sword Sage spoke up.

“Calling amusement trivial? You must be a pitiful soul who never knew fun,” the Demon Lord mocked.

“The way of the demonic path, I see. Were you trying to create a hell on earth, a battlefield of demons?” the Sword Sage asked.

As Black Heaven’s face twitched, the Tyrant questioned, “Do you think you have the right to stand at the end of that hell?”

“Right? If you’re curious, come at me all at once. I’ll oblige,” Black Heaven challenged, undaunted even when surrounded by six supreme masters.

The suggestion of a combined attack sent a chill through some of the masters’ eyes.

As the Tyrant’s tangible inner power surged, Mu Hui stepped between him and Black Heaven.

“Black Heaven, to me, your talk of killing intent is just as trivial. Pure martial arts should clash without the need for such a gathering of martial artists.”

“And?” Black Heaven asked.

Mu Hui looked at the gathered masters. “The supreme masters representing the four factions are here. I propose we create a space where we can test our martial arts without interference.”

“And what is that one thing?” Black Heaven’s interest piqued.

“The title of the world’s greatest,” Mu Hui declared, the words hanging in the air. He continued, “The one who earns the title can achieve whatever they desire. I propose to the supreme masters of the martial world: gather at Mount Hua to test your ultimate martial arts. We shall call it the Mount Hua Sword Conference.”

The masters fell silent at Mu Hui’s proposal.

The Demon Lord was the first to break the silence. “Mount Hua Sword Conference. Interesting. But why Mount Hua?”

“Because I proposed it. If you have a problem, you should have proposed it first, Demon Lord,” Mu Hui replied.

“Hmph.”

Aside from Sado Cheonju, the other supreme masters showed little reaction. The general atmosphere was one of agreement.

The chance to claim the title of the greatest under heaven—every martial artist had dreamed of it at least once.

Moreover, it was preferable to compete among the supreme masters rather than in a chaotic gathering of countless martial artists.

Observing the reactions, Muhwi turned his head. The most crucial figure was Heukcheon. Even if the other masters agreed, it would be pointless if Heukcheon refused.

‘What’s this?’

As Muhwi looked at Heukcheon’s face, he frowned. The usually stoic Heukcheon was letting slip a faint, amused smile.

“Since it began at Mount Hua, ending it there wouldn’t be so bad.”

Muttering to himself, Heukcheon nodded at Muhwi.

“The Mount Hua Tournament. I’ll accept. When will it be?”

Though Muhwi couldn’t decipher the meaning behind Heukcheon’s murmurs, he gave an answer.

“During the upcoming Spring Festival.”

The Spring Festival marked the first day of the new year and was the grandest celebration in the martial world.

“Heh, sounds good. It will be the greatest festival of my life.”

Sado Cheonju chuckled and turned away first.

“Three months to go. See you then.”

As Sado Cheonju walked away, the Palace Lord bowed to Heukcheon, maintaining his twisted smile.

“Master, I’ll see you then. Please stay healthy.”

The Palace Lord also left, and the Overlord gave Muhwi a lingering look before silently turning his back.

Heukcheon, too, seemed ready to leave, as shadows began to creep up from his feet.

Heukcheon paused to look at Muhwi and asked, “Why did you propose this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Given your past actions, I thought you’d see this as a chance to eliminate Sado Cheonju, the Dark Night Palace, and the Overlord’s Fortress all at once.”

In a previous life, the Sword Demon would have thought so. But now, living as Muhwi, he had changed little by little.

He was no longer the Sword Demon; he was Muhwi.

“I simply prioritized saving over killing.”

As the shadows gradually enveloped Heukcheon, he spoke again.

“You haven’t saved them yet, just postponed it.”

In Heukcheon’s calm tone, there was a strong resolve that he could bring order to the martial world at any time.

Once Heukcheon was completely swallowed by darkness and disappeared, Muhwi finally let out a deep sigh.

“It’s done.”

Hyeopje shook his head, catching his breath, and patted Muhwi on the shoulder.

“You’ve accomplished what even the leader couldn’t.”

“Now the real work begins.”

At the Sword Saint’s words, Muhwi and Hyeopje nodded in agreement.