Most of the martial sects in Shanxi had been unable to attend the Murim Alliance Gathering held in Shaanxi.They weren’t well-informed enough to recognize the Lord of Ma Gwang-ik from Ipwang Fortress, who had arrived under a false identity.


    The world was vast, and when one crossed a single city, even the most famous grandmasters could have their rumored descriptions distorted into multiple variations.


    Even someone as renowned as Ipwang Divine Spear, Ak Su-rim, was simultaneously rumored in some regions to be either a five-year-old child or a wrinkled old woman.


    The Thirteen Heavens of the Evil Path, the Nine Great Sects, the Eight Noble Clans.


    Shanxi Province had no sects that had made a great name for themselves.


    Despite being as vast as a small country, it was close to being a wasteland in terms of martial prowess. In comparison to the boundless world, that was simply the reality.


    A powerful military force ensured that the Daebang Sect could never take root.


    The martial artists of Shanxi lived in their own world. Fierce schemes, secret negotiations, covert plundering, and relentless martial training…


    They were too busy securing food during famines and expanding their influence.


    It was simply the nature of the era. As the rightful lords of fertile lands, they used scarecrows to hold their swords, not to chase away birds, but to drive away people.


    And they enjoyed the prestige of noble families. Tasting delicacies during famine, collecting masterpieces of art, and welcoming renowned figures from all fields as guests.


    Boom! Boom! Boom!


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    An earth-shaking roar swept through the banquet hall.


    It made sense that the Blood Ghouls would target the food first.


    One could tell from their gaunt faces, their hollow cheeks sunken from hunger, that they had been chased out by something far too overwhelming to resist.


    They had heard rumors that the Gongya Clan was hosting a grand banquet—and had launched an attack.


    The martial artists, caught off guard, instinctively drew their weapons in alarm. None of them had the presence of mind to spare a thought for the terrified servants.


    The Bloodflame Cult’s Star-Absorbing Technique inflicted irreversible internal damage. There was no choice but to immediately circulate their energy with all their might.


    The dust rising chaotically from the floor of the banquet hall was proof of their heightened vigilance.


    A single bite from those fangs, even for a brief moment, would rob them of the internal energy they had painstakingly cultivated.


    Time was something that could never be recovered. Even the minuscule energy refined just days ago through meditation was a treasure to martial artists.


    As the honored martial artists took their positions to form a defensive formation, the sect leaders turned to check on their disciples.


    A chaotic melee had been expected.


    But it ended in a single breath.


    “Bosin-kyung…?”


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