It was Elder No Il-gyeom of the Fourth Seat who rose boldly and declared this to the gathered elders.
“Do you know why flies die in a jar of honey? It’s their damn greed. But it’s never just one fly that dies. It always brings others with it.”
“We’re exactly those flies right now.”
At those words, another elder sprang to his feet.
“I’ll join you on that boat ride.”
“Yang Won-gak! We’re men whose bones were shaped in the lower third-class ranks. You’re mocking that very backbone.”
Another stood and shouted,
“That’s why the tradition of non-interference in the Hao Clan’s Council of Elders was created!”
That comment seemed to serve as a signal.
One by one, like bamboo shoots after rain, the elders all rose—until only one man remained seated: Senior Elder Chae An-won.
Jo Cheon-yang spoke quietly to him.
“Brother Chae, what’s the use in groveling now? The Clan Leader and Sub-Branch Leader seem to have come well-prepared, but with the elders and escorts on our side, it’s not beyond our means.”
The Senior Elder said, his face pale,
“With the people we have here, we can’t handle them.”
“That day... I couldn’t do anything against the Sub-Branch Leader’s pressure.”
Then, slowly, the Senior Elder stood.
“Even so—I will stand with the elders.”
At those words, a faint smile touched Jo Cheon-yang’s lips.
“Now that’s the Brother Chae I remember.”
The Senior Elder gave a bitter smile.
“Brother Jo... I’m ashamed. I should’ve done this back then.”
He turned toward Gwaa and said,
“I’m truly sorry to you.”
Tears welled up and burst from Gwaa’s eyes.
The Senior Elder lifted his head high and declared in a loud voice,
“By unanimous decision, the Council of Elders hereby impeaches Clan Leader Im Saeng and Sub-Branch Leader Yang Won-gak. From this moment on, the two are no longer members of the Hao Clan!”
The elders responded as one with a thunderous round of applause.
Clap, clap, clap, clap!
Watching the scene with a bitter smile, Sub-Branch Leader Yang Won-gak turned to Clan Leader Im Saeng and said,
“This is exactly why I said we should come.”
“Old fools, the lot of them. Not a shred of ambition in their bones. They’ve spent their lives groveling, so I get it—but I’ll never forgive it.”
Clan Leader Im Saeng shut his eyes tight.
“We’ll proceed as planned.”
Yang Won-gak turned to address the elders.
“As the Clan Leader’s loyal Sub-Branch Leader, how could I disobey his strict orders? Senior Elder, no hard feelings. It’s not like I ever believed you were truly on my side. And frankly, I only used this council as bait to trap Elder Jo and the girl. But...”
He turned his gaze toward Kwak Yeon and sneered.
“Turns out we caught another troublesome pest in the process. So thanks, I suppose.”
“Why not reveal your identity now? I’m quite curious who you are, since you’ve gone out of your way to interfere with our business.”
Kwak Yeon spoke calmly.
“Sub-Branch Leader Yang, before I reveal who I am, I’d like to correct something.”
“This trap wasn’t yours.”
“I was just worried you might not walk into it. But thank you for showing up.”
With a wave of Yang Won-gak’s hand, the martial artists surrounding the courtyard drew their swords all at once.
Kwak Yeon glanced around at the ring of warriors and asked,
“Did you bring all your personal guards?”
“I did. I intend to clean this place out entirely—elders and all, including you.”
Kwak Yeon turned to Jo Cheon-yang.
“Elder Jo, it’s fortunate that everything will be resolved here, just as we anticipated.”
Furious at Kwak Yeon’s indifferent tone, Yang Won-gak exploded.
“You little bastard, you’ve really got a mouth on you!”
Yet Kwak Yeon didn’t even glance at him. Instead, he addressed the elders.
“I am Kwak Yeon, Lay Daoist of Samnyeonggung on Mount Wudang. I offer my sincerest apologies for intruding on your Council of Elders uninvited.”
The elders were shocked to hear the name Wudang Sect—and even more so that he was a Daoist of Three Spirits Palace.
“I didn’t reveal myself earlier because I needed to discern friend from foe among you. Your courageous stance, taken despite the threat to your lives, has moved me deeply.”
Despite the danger, Kwak Yeon remained composed and respectful, prompting murmurs among the elders.
“To think the Wudang Sect came to aid us—we are truly grateful.”
“Yet we’re sorry to have brought you to such a dangerous place.”
Kwak Yeon cupped his fists in a formal gesture and said,
“You’ll soon see this is not a day of misfortune, but of great fortune.”
With those words, he drew the Cheonggang Sword.
“Elders and escorts, please step back. The space here is too narrow.”
But the elders and escorts didn’t move. They were ready to confront the Sub-Branch Leader’s warriors themselves.
“We will fight alongside you, Sir Kwak.”
“That’s right. This is our matter too—we cannot stand by and leave it all to you.”
Watching them, Gwaa shouted loudly,
“Daoist Kwak doesn’t need help—he’ll only be hindered! I saw it myself. None of you, even a hundred of you together, could handle what he can do.”
Elder Jo Cheon-yang added,
“Make way for Sir Kwak. That is how you can help.”
With Elder Jo himself giving the command, the elders and escorts gathered together and stepped aside.
Once the field was cleared and allies and enemies separated, Kwak Yeon stepped forward to face the Sub-Branch Leader, Clan Leader, and their forces.
“Anyone who lays down their arms now and accepts the Hao Clan’s judgment will be spared.”
Yang Won-gak shouted,
“You Wudang cave-dweller, you spout nonsense well! You may have some skill, but this place will be your grave. Kill him—wipe them all out at once!”
Yang hadn’t just brought his own guards—he had also hidden among them a peak-level martial master as backup.
He had rushed to secure assistance after learning that the Wudang Daoist was the one who had taken out the assassins.
Which is why he brimmed with confidence.
With a deafening gust, the Sub-Branch Leader’s elite warriors surged into the courtyard like a black tide.
An all-out strike aimed at a single man!
A wave of overlapping blades swept toward Kwak Yeon.
From Cheonggang Sword, a sudden burst of white radiance erupted.
Sub-Branch Leader Yang Won-gak wasn’t particularly surprised. He had already guessed that the bastard had reached the level of Blade Manifestation.
The brightness of the radiance looked a bit intense, but—
Sword Threads merely extended the range of attack. The elite guards, all top-tier experts, should still be able to counter him. Besides, among them was a peak-level master hiding in wait—ready to strike down those threads at the crucial moment.
The man might be a Daoist of Wudang, and Yang felt some concern over his upward-flowing energy techniques—but in the end, he only wielded a single blade. It was impossible to defend against dozens of swords.
“The result is obvious. The only question is how many we lose in the process.”
With a leisurely expression, Yang Won-gak watched as the first wave of blades closed in on the Cave Daoist.
“Isn’t this ending a bit too easily?”
And then—the Cave Daoist’s figure vanished, like a candle snuffed out.
Looking closer, he hadn’t vanished at all.
He had simply become ghost-like—translucent.
The first wave of blades had already swept past him.
“What the hell? Why is he unharmed? And why is there no sound of blades clashing?”
No fewer than ten swords had stabbed toward his vital pressure points.
These {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} were blades driven by the combined variations of top-tier martial artists—yet the wall of swords had passed through him as if it weren’t there.
Unless he was an actual ghost, that wasn’t possible. If he had blocked several of the blades and slipped through the gaps, that would be another matter entirely.
In that case, there should have been the sound of steel clashing.
Before Yang Won-gak could unravel what had happened, he saw the warriors who had delivered the first wave stagger back a few steps—then collapse in a row.
“What... they fell down mid-fight?”
But they hadn’t merely fallen.
Their upper bodies had been severed from their waists—an illusion of collapse caused by the clean separation.
The scent of blood and iron suddenly surged into Yang Won-gak’s nostrils.
His skin crawled with instinctive fear.
That brilliant white radiance.
That ghostlike speed.
A technique that cleanly sliced through everything within nearly thirty feet of range, without making a sound—there was only one possibility.
Sword Force (Geomgang).
Sword Force cuts through everything.
Even blades imbued with sword energy are no exception.
“So that’s why there was no sound?”
He hadn’t parried—he’d sliced through. There was no impact, and thus no metallic clash.
Come to think of it, there had been faint popping sounds.
He had mistaken them for someone’s footwork or clashing movement rhythms—but they had been the quiet tearing of flesh.
“That means... he’s reached the realm of Transformation.”
While Yang Won-gak stood paralyzed in shock, the Cave Daoist was already charging into the second wave of the coordinated assault.
Now, to Yang’s eyes, attacker and defender seemed to have reversed.
Having just witnessed that overwhelming result, his perception had already shifted without him realizing it.
Still, he held onto one last hope.
In this second wave was a peak-level martial master hidden among the attackers.
They might not kill the bastard—but they could at least wound him.
And if he were wounded, their odds of winning would rise.
Instead of a reckless charge, they would hunt the injured beast with coordinated, pinpoint defense.
Kwak Yeon broke through the first strike of the second wave by unleashing the Heaven-Earth Eight Desolation Steps.
His pure inner qi—guided by the flow of Primordial Harmonious Art—layered thickly around his meridians, aligning perfectly with his internal energy, propelling him forward at a speed almost beyond control.
It felt as if only his time was accelerating.
The world slowed, and the enemies’ movements appeared sluggish and hazy—as if he were walking through an open gate.
Of course, as he passed through that gate, he sliced through everything caught in the arc of his Sword Force.
The issue was the explosive burst had created a gap in his inner energy flow.
Until now, his qi circulation had remained unbroken under any circumstance. His current endurance could easily surpass two full cycles of breath—but now, it wavered.
He understood perfectly why.
It was the result of a new functional phenomenon brought on by the elevated level of Primordial Harmonious Art.
He had realized it the moment his Yang Heart Divine Art’s infernal flame had surged to its limit—when he empathized with Gwaa’s fear.
The Primordial Harmonious Art had evolved due to emotional resonance, unlocking a new ability.
A cause for celebration, certainly.
But every blessing casts a shadow.
As he had just learned—when that blessing disrupts your energy flow mid-battle, it can become a poison.
For now, he was only facing top-tier opponents, and his inner energy was recovering swiftly. There was no real threat.
But if his opponent were a super-peak master—or someone beyond—that brief disruption could be fatal.
“Another lesson I’ve picked up.”
Still, if he hoped to reach the state of Limitless Polarity, this was a trial he would have to overcome. And for that, he welcomed it.