How long had it been since he entered the martial world?
Two years…?
Jeong Yeon-shin couldn’t recall exactly.
After all, thinking about time was also a reminder of how much remained—an awareness he instinctively tried to suppress.
It would bring to mind the things he once wished to do at twenty, the shape of the house he had imagined building for his future family, the encounters with the Seventh Apostle, or how his body naturally reacted when watching over Shin So-bin’s martial progress.
Even the strange temperament that occasionally surfaced past his natural humility—all of it only served to either intensify his fear of death or force him to acknowledge it anew.
Once, a comrade from the Azure Sky Corps had told him:
"The Acting Leader’s path is like a light step across the vast plains—always fleeting, never stopping."
He also remembered the praise from the Scribes of the Grand Bureau.
"One of the Black Steel Triad will be the next leader of the Divine Sword Corps, and after that, the one to follow will be none other than the Ma Gwang-ik Lord."
"Your footprints carve the shape of a sacred sword."
"You run like a man who sees only forward, as if even the future is not enough."
But Jeong Yeon-shin did not think so.
He simply feared looking back.
He hesitated to confirm how much time had passed and how he had walked that path.
Because he wondered if another path—a better path—might have been possible.
The martial world was far too harsh and too difficult a place.
A life-and-death battle against the Holy Radiance Sword General, fought alone.
It had been terrifying.
Even if he fought again, he couldn’t be certain he would win.
Perhaps only the people of Liaodong would name Mo Yong Jung-rak among the Ten Great Masters—but there was no doubt.
The Holy Radiance Sword General had been a peerless martial artist whose name shook the world.
A man capable of replacing an entire army.
The fact that their battle ended in near-mutual destruction was a stroke of fortune.