Martial Arts Vs Magic - Chapter 149 | Book 5 Start

Chapter 1 | Book 5 

Chapter 149 – The Heavenly Sovereign

The aroma of fermented cabbage mixed with grilled meat, incense from a nearby shrine, and beneath it all, the metallic tang of barely concealed fear was filling the air. War had a way of seasoning everything, even the air itself. 

The sounds came next. Merchants hawking their wares with forced cheer, children's laughter that cut off too quickly when armored soldiers marched past, the rhythmic hammering from a blacksmith working through what should have been his lunch hour. Everyone was preparing for a siege that they pretended wasn't coming.

I stood in the heart of Hwangcheon market district, chopsticks in hand, savoring a bowl of naengmyeon – cold buckwheat noodles that reminded me painfully of Earth's Korean cuisine as well as that of Murim. The similarities weren't coincidental. 

The Heavenly Demon's memories painted a clear picture. This entire region of Shenzora was reminiscent of an Xianxia novel, while Goryeo reflected Murim quite well. Same architectural principles in the curved rooflines, same emphasis on communal eating spaces, and even a similar habit of removing shoes before entering buildings.

"Stop looking around like an airhead," Ha-Yun's voice drifted through my mind, carried by the thread of Qi I'd extended to her. Sound Transmission Art. "People will think the merchant's daughter I'm pretending to be associates with madmen."

I glanced at her, taking in the elaborate disguise. She'd done well – expensive but not ostentatious silks, hair styled in the fashion of nouveau riche merchants, and most importantly, a decorative veil that covered the lower half of her face. The pink patterns embroidered on it supposedly indicated she was promised to someone. Clever.

"Can't help it," I replied mentally while slurping another mouthful of noodles. "This actually tastes like home. Well, one of my homes. The memories are complicated."

"You're eating street food while my country burns, and you're nostalgic?"

"Mhm, I'm multitasking,” I said. “Eating, nostalgic, and planning your country's salvation. Very efficient."

She snorted, in a quite un-princess way, which made the elderly woman at the next stall look over curiously. Ha-Yun quickly pretended to cough delicately into her sleeve.

"Here sweetheart, try some," I said aloud, offering her my chopsticks with a piece of marinated beef.

Her eyes narrowed above the veil. "How exactly would I eat that without removing–"

"If I lift my face veil, I'll be recognized immediately," she continued mentally, her mental voice carrying a hint of exasperation.

"Popular princess," I replied through our connection, letting amusement color the thought.

"Not popular. Memorable. There's a difference." She paused, watching a patrol of soldiers march past, their armor bearing fresh dents and hastily repaired sections. "If you’ve gathered well, I’m the one who held the Jade River for three days. Every tavern song from here to the capital features my name now. I can't walk ten steps without someone trying to prostrate themselves or propose marriage."

"Both at once?" I said aloud.

"You'd be surprised. Desperation makes people creative."

We moved through the market, maintaining the pretense of idle shopping while our real conversation flowed beneath the surface. I bought a paper fan from one vendor, examined jade hairpins at another. Normal things that normal people did when their world wasn't ending.

"I still can't believe you actually came," Ha-Yun's mental voice carried something between gratitude and suspicion. "After everything that's happened, after annoying Sahrazzakhan as well as the Emperors of Ethenia and Erebia. You really are brave."

"You helped me when you had no reason to. That means something." I said, and I meant it. The Demonic Blade of Kurayami was a really useful gift, and I’d have never received it if Ha-Yun hadn’t accompanied us to the Highlands.

"Sentiment? From the Heavenly Demon?"

"Strategic sentiment. The best kind."

The truth was, naturally, more complex. Yes, I owed her a debt. But Goryeo also represented an opportunity – a chance to demonstrate that Nevaramis could project power, could influence events beyond our floating borders. If I could stop this war, other nations would take notice. They'd have to.

Plus, there was the matter of my stagnation.

°°°°°°

Name: Iskandaar Romani

Age: 21 years

Race: Demonic Human

Qi: 29100/30900

Level: 113 | 26% EXP

°°°

Class: Myth Slayer 

Class Level: [6/10]

Class Skills: 

• Mythrend [Active]

• Void Step [Active]

• Soul Sever [Active]

• Legendbreaker [Passive]

• Veil of the Slayer [Passive]

• Astral Rend [Active]

• Fate Unraveled [Active]

• Echoes of Oblivion [Active]

• Mythic Dominion [Active] 

• Astral Infusion [Passive]

°°°

General Skills:

• The Heavenly Demon Skill Tree [50.00%]

• Sovereign's Gaze [Unique]

• Swordsmanship [Grandmaster]

• Kickboxing [Grandmaster]

• Inner Focus [Intermediate]

• Mana Manipulation [Master]

°°°°°°

I'd been stuck at 50.00% on the Heavenly Demon Skill Tree for two months now. It was very troublesome. No amount of cultivation, combat, or meditation pushed it higher. The realization had come slowly, painfully. I was trapped at the Grandmaster rank. 

I reached Grandmaster automatically when I touched Level 75, 6th Ascension. By that rule, Level 100 should have automatically pushed me to Transcendent Rank, but something was missing. 

Some understanding, some breakthrough that pure power couldn't provide.

The Three Flowers Gather at Summit realm – that's one of the names that Murim called it. The realm of Transcending Heaven and Earth. Where martial artists stopped merely using Qi and began to embody it, influencing the world. Where the boundary between self and universe blurred.

I needed real challenge, real growth. Not the political maneuvering of Nevaramis but something... purer.

"Your Highness!" A young boy, maybe seven, suddenly darted between the stalls, clutching what looked like a wooden sword. "Princess Ha-Yun! I saw you at the river! You were amazing! You went swoosh and then bang and all the bad guys fell down!"

Ha-Yun froze. The boy's mother, horrified, rushed over and grabbed his arm.

"Forgive him, Miss," she stammered, not looking up. "Children and their imagination–"

"It's her! I know it is! She has the same way of standing! Like she's ready to fight everyone at once!"

Well. This was a problem.

I stepped forward, placing myself between Ha-Yun and the growing cluster of interested onlookers. "Kid's got quite the imagination," I said loudly, affecting a merchant's accent I'd picked up from Scorpion's Kiss. "My wife gets that a lot. Something about her posture, apparently. Very martial."

"Wife?" Ha-Yun's mental voice could have frozen flame.

"Would you prefer mistress? Cousin? Interpretive dance partner?"

The boy's mother dragged him away, apologizing profusely. But damage was done. People were looking now, whispering. A few soldiers had stopped their patrol, hands drifting to sword hilts. Why are they acting like that? It’s not as if they’d attack their Princess?

"We should go," Ha-Yun murmured.

"Agreed. Though for the record, you do stand like you're ready to fight everyone at once."

"It's called preparedness."

"It's called having terrible posture for stealth missions."

She elbowed me as we walked, hard enough that someone without my reinforced body would have bruised ribs. The casual violence was almost nostalgic. It reminded me of Lilian's way of showing affection.

The market gave way to wider streets, then to the government district where buildings grew taller and guards grew numerous. The Phoenix Pavilion loomed ahead. It was five stories of carved wood and glazed tiles that somehow managed to look both delicate and indestructible. Like its owner, supposedly.

"Father is waiting for me," Ha-Yun said, tension creeping into her mental voice. "Fair warning, he's not as... accommodating as he was during your last visit."

"The war?"

"The war. The casualties. The fact that his advisors blame you for everything from the invasion to the unseasonable rain we had last week."

"Hey, I wasn't even here last week."

I shot me a look. "Details rarely matter in politics."

****

The Phoenix Pavilion deserved its reputation. Every beam was carved with scenes from Goryeo's history – dragons coiling around pillars, phoenixes rising from stylized flames, tigers prowling through forests of ink and wood. The air inside held that particular weight of accumulated authority, centuries of decisions that had shaped nations.

"Wait here," Ha-Yun said, indicating a small antechamber decorated with silk paintings of mountain scenes. "As I said, despite your previous meeting, your... reputation might complicate things."

"No way, which part?"

"The 'currently wanted by three Arcane Kings and the United Church' part."

I laughed as she disappeared through lacquered doors that cost more than most people's houses. I counted to ten, then activated one of my newer acquisitions. True Demon God Art, Shadowmeld Step. 

My form dispersed into overlapping shadows, each one a fraction of a second out of phase with reality. I reformed in the throne room's rafters, hidden among decorative carvings that no one ever looked at closely.

Monarch Jin Ha-Im sat not on his throne but at a war table covered in maps, troop positions, and supply line reports. 

[Jin Ha-Im, Monarch of Goryeo, Level 166]

His hair had gone grayer since I'd last seen him, and new lines carved themselves around his eyes. Which said a lot, considering that after the 7th Ascension, aging slowed down significantly. Three advisors flanked him, each radiating the kind of bureaucratic menace that made actual combat seem pleasant by comparison.

"Father." Ha-Yun's entrance scattered their hushed conversation.

"Daughter." His smile was warm but tired. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow's war council."

"I come with an offer of assistance."

The warmth evaporated. "From?"

Ha-Yun straightened, and I could see her gathering courage like armor. "Iskandaar Romani has come to–"

The explosion of Mana nearly knocked me from my perch. The Monarch's power erupted outward, rattling windows and sending papers flying. One advisor actually fell to his knees.

"I’ve warned you before, sweet daughter. That name," the Monarch said, each word precisely carved from ice, "is not spoken in this palace."

"Father, please."

"He brought this upon us!" The table cracked under his fist. "His mere presence gave Xianli their excuse! Every death, every burned village, every orphaned child. His fault!"

"That's not–"

"Minister Zhou, tell my daughter how many died at Jade River."

The leftmost advisor, a man who looked like he survived entirely on bitter tea and disapproval, cleared his throat. "Three thousand, two hundred, and eighteen confirmed, Your Majesty. With perhaps another thousand missing."

"Their blood is on his hands."

Ha-Yun's composure cracked. "Their blood is on mine! I led them! I chose the battlefield! I–"

"You defended our nation against an invasion he caused." The Monarch's voice gentled slightly, but the steel remained. "I will not accept help from the architect of our destruction. I would rather see Goryeo burn with honor than stand with dishonor."

"You would choose pride over survival?"

"I choose sovereignty over servitude. The Heavenly Demon's help comes with a price. It always does. Our current argument against the public is that we were unaware of that boy’s demonic allegiance when we hosted him. What would people say if suddenly the same boy came to help us now? Besides, he must be setting some kind of trap here."

"He’s not. You don't know him."

"I know enough. He challenged an Arcane King. He consorts with vampires and werewolves. He builds an army in his floating city while the world burns below. What happens when we owe such a creature our survival?"

Ha-Yun's shoulders sagged. "Then we die proudly? Is that your answer?"

"We die as Goryeo. That is enough."

The silence stretched like a bowstring. Finally, Ha-Yun bowed – perfectly formal, completely empty of warmth.

"I understand, Father. I'll prepare for tomorrow's battle."

She left without another word. I waited until the advisors resumed their worried muttering, then slipped away through shadows and architectural blind spots.

By the time Ha-Yun walked out, she found me exactly where she’d left me. She walked toward me with her back rigid and her hands clenched.

"So," I said mildly, "that went well."

She spun, eyes wide. "You were listening?"

"Your father has an impressive Mana capacity. I apologize, my Sphere of Perception covers a large range. I couldn’t help but listen,” I used an excuse, even calling my Demonic Sphere a more friendly name. “Though he's letting emotion leak into his judgement. That might cause trouble if he's not careful."

"You-" She visibly gathered herself. "He refused."

"I gathered that from the part where he blamed me for everything short of agricultural taxation."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny. Minister Zhou looks exactly like a disappointed crane."

She almost smiled. Almost. "You should leave. If he discovers you're here..."

"I might stick around for a bit. In case he reconsiders."

"He won't." The certainty in her voice carried years of experience. "Once my father decides something, mountains would move easier than his mind."

"Mountains I can actually move. Your father seems trickier."

"Iskandaar..." She paused, searching for words. I felt a pang of Soul Fire come from her. "Thank you for offering. It means… hah, it would have meant everything. But I need to go. Tomorrow's battle won't plan itself, and if we're going to die with honor, I'd prefer we do it efficiently."

She walked away before I could respond, her disguise discarded in favor of a military bearing. She paused, turning to look at me one last time. Then she carried on. Each step carried the weight of someone walking toward their own execution with eyes wide open.

I stood in that antechamber, surrounded by paintings of mountains that would outlast the kingdom they decorated, and made a decision.

The Monarch wanted sovereignty? Fine.

But I hadn't come all this way just to take 'no' for an answer.

****

The wind at this altitude carried a bite that reminded me of the Shan Gui Highlands. Below, Hwangcheon sprawled like a wounded beast preparing for its last stand – beautiful and doomed in equal measure. 

I let Soul Fire ripple through my body, adjusting reality's grip just enough to hover without effort. The technique came as naturally as breathing now, which made my stagnation all the more frustrating.

Transcendent Rank. Three Flowers Gathering at the Summit. The realm where martial artists stop being human and start becoming concepts.

I had Soul Fire, which was earned in a grade higher than Transcendent. It was literally the ability to burn reality itself with faith made manifest. I commanded forces that shouldn't exist. Yet something fundamental eluded me, some understanding that pure power couldn't bridge.

Just what was wrong?

"Look at you brooding. Very dramatic. The wind in your hair, the distant gaze. All you need is rain and a tragic backstory."

I didn't turn as Lailah materialized beside me, her form crackling with that peculiar not-quite-there quality of Maldric's latest invention. It was an advanced version of the device Munera used to call Ralian. Although for now, only Lailah could use it thanks to her spirit-related skills. Maldric was trying to develop a solution for mass use.

The holographic projection captured her perfectly – bronze skin luminous even in ethereal form, those striking silver eyes that held depths the real ocean envied.

"I have multiple tragic backstories," I pointed out. "Hard to pick which one fits the mood."

She laughed thinking I was joking, the sound carrying despite her projected state. It was one of Maldric's touches – he'd insisted that laughter needed to translate properly or what was the point?

We stood together, watching the city prepare for tomorrow's doom. Soldiers moved through streets like blood through dying veins, carrying supplies, sharpening weapons, saying goodbyes they pretended were temporary.

"You're really doing this," Lailah said after a moment. Not a question.

"Would you respect me if I didn't?"

"I think I'd understand you better." She turned to face me fully, and even in projection, her intensity was palpable. "Mother warned me about the Crown of Dominion. It's not similar to the Crown of Avarice that Sahrazzakhan wears. This one’s made for battle… As you already know, the Crowns come from Original Sins. The Crown of Dominion belonged to Lucifer, the Sin of Pride."

The name hit like ice water. The name Lucifer was profound for a person from Earth like me; it was associated with the biblical devil. Sin of Wrath? I pondered. It made sense why the Crown was referred to as Dominion, then. "That's why the eastern continent only has one empire."

The Emperor of Baolian Dominion, Emperor Shengzong, was as respected as, if not more than, the Twelve Gods in this continent.

"For three thousand years," Lailah confirmed. "One emperor, unchanging, unchallenged. Mother thinks the crown doesn't just grant power – it enforces stability through absolute dominion. Anyone who might threaten that stability, to challenge that pride..." She made a cutting gesture across her throat.

"And I'm about to make myself very threatening."

"You're about to paint a target on Nevaramis that we can't afford. This is not my place to talk since you’re the Sovereign, but…" Her projection flickered with uncertainty. "We're building something unprecedented, Iskandaar. Ancient enemies living in harmony, powers that haven't cooperated since the Age of Wonders. But we're fragile. But… a series of enraged attacks from an Arcane King..."

"We'd survive."

"Would we? Or would we just add another floating ruin to history's graveyard?"

The question hung between us like a blade. I smiled. Below, a child ran through the streets, wooden sword in hand, playing at being Princess Ha-Yun. His mother chased after him, fear and exhaustion written in every line of her body.

"What really matters, Lailah?" I asked softly.

"I... what?"

"You said getting involved distracts from what really matters. So tell me – what matters more than this?" I gestured at the city below. "Those people down there, preparing to die for pride? That kid who might not see another sunrise? Ha-Yun, who helped me when she had no reason to, now abandoned by everyone except her brother?"

"The bigger picture–"

"The bigger picture is made of smaller ones." I turned to face her fully. "I'm trying to save the world from a terrible end. We both know what's coming. The Demon King, the other Arcane Kings, forces that make this war look like children squabbling. But what's the point of saving the world if I can't save a friend's country? What kind of Heavenly Demon lets his allies burn while he hides in his floating castle?"

"The smart kind who lives to fight the real threats?"

"The cowardly kind who dies alone because no one trusts him when those threats arrive."

She sighed, and even through the projection, I could see her acceptance. "I’m just a farmer’s girl, Iskandaar. I can’t say anything more since you've already decided."

"Before I even arrived."

"Mother thinks it's stupid."

"The dangers of the underworld have jaded your mother. I don’t blame her. But she thinks happiness is successfully manipulating seventeen political situations while poisoning only half her devil enemies."

"That's... actually pretty accurate." A ghost of a smile crossed her features. "Fine. Save your princess and fight your war. Try not to get us all killed in the process. Call me whenever you need my help."

"She's not my princess. She’s just a friend."

"Oh yeah? The way you talk about her says otherwise."

"The way I talk about good food doesn't mean I'm marrying a dumpling."

"You might if it was a really good dumpling, shaped like Lilian, maybe."

I had nothing to reply after that. We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, then Lailah's projection began to fade. "Be careful, Iskandaar. The Crown of Dominion isn't just powerful – it's insidious. It makes people think its will is their own. If the Emperor feels insulted and decides to intervene personally..."

"Then I'll handle it."

She stared at me. At how stupid I must sound. Then she disappeared with a laugh, leaving me alone with the wind and my thoughts. My eyes noted the distant views. 

I stared at the enemy camps spread across the northern horizon like a disease, their fires drawing constellations of war against the darkness. In the best-case scenario, Xianli's army could reach the capital in as little as two weeks. Worst? By dawn, they'd move. By noon, the city might be in flames. The enemies were right outside.

Unless I gave them something else to focus on.

Movement below caught my attention. A figure climbed the palace walls with surprising skill. The former crown Prince Jin Ha-Young pulled himself onto a balcony, then looked directly up at me. The fact that he could sense my position despite my concealment was... interesting. Especially since he wasn’t a particularly strong person.

[Jin Ha-Young, the Prince of Bureaucracy, Level 48]

I descended, landing silently beside him. He didn't flinch.

"My sister said you'd still be here," he said without preamble. Where his father radiated emotional heat, the prince was all calculated edges. "Our scouts report Xianli's main force reaches our outer defenses by mid-morning. Twenty thousand strong, with siege weapons blessed by their war priests. Their leading warriors are incredibly powerful."

"And Ha-Yun?"

"Will lead our cavalry in a flanking maneuver that has a thirty percent chance of success if everything goes perfectly." His expression didn't change, but something in his stance shifted. "She knows the odds. She's going anyway."

"Sounds familiar."

"Yes, you both share that particular brand of inspired stupidity." He studied me with eyes that missed nothing. "My father blames you for this war, but I'm more practical. Wars need excuses, not causes. If it wasn't your visit, Xianli would have found another reason."

"Your father doesn't share that view."

"I love and respect my father. But he sees the world through honor-colored glass. It's admirable and utterly useless." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "If you truly mean to help her, I won't stop you. But understand the position you put us in."

"I understand your point. Your defense is that you didn't know I was the Heavenly Demon. If I appear to help you publicly…"

"We become a demon state in the world's eyes. Every nation that's stayed neutral turns against us. The Church of Light might declare holy war. We trade tomorrow's destruction for next week's annihilation."

His logic was flawless and depressing.

"So you need deniability," I said slowly.

"I… need my sister alive." The mask slipped for just a moment, revealing desperate love beneath calculation. What a sweet brother. "Everything else is negotiable."

"Even your country's honor?"

"Honor doesn't comfort orphans or rebuild burned cities." He turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing. I don't know you beyond rumors and my sister's stories. But understand this clearly… if harm comes to her because of your intervention, if your presence causes her death instead of preventing it..." He met my eyes fully. "Goryeo will be the least of your concerns. I'll pursue you through every hell this world offers and invent new ones when I run out."

The threat should have been laughable from someone seventy levels below me. Instead, it carried the weight of absolute truth. This wasn't about power. It was about will. 

"Noted," I said simply.

He vanished back over the balcony, leaving me with the night and the distant drums of war. I smiled. His care for his sister pleasantly reminded me of Iaskin and Riasmin. Even though I wasn’t born as Iskandaar Romani, the brief time I shared with them was very delightful. 

I didn’t get much time to reflect on that. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of rain that would arrive with dawn. Perfect weather for a battle. Perfect weather for surprises.

My smile shifted slightly. My mind felt pieces click into place. The Monarch wanted sovereignty? The Prince needed deniability? Ha-Yun required a miracle?

Well then.

Time to give them all exactly what they wanted.

Tomorrow, Xianli's armies would learn why even Arcane Kings spoke my name with enraged voices. Tonight, though, I had preparations to make. After all, if you're going to crash a war, you might as well do it with style.

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The Veiled Man Note: Guess who's back, back again 🙏 Break over, and we're launching with Book 5 Chapter 1. September 1st. Let me know how you like this Chapter 1, I think its pretty strong compared to previous books as the stakes here are high.

Next is the news about Barbarian Ascension. I'm launching it this 7th September rather than today. For those reading in RoyalRoad, you guys must have noticed the dozen Monster Evo Girl stories, I'm trying to post after that wave ends. Otherwise I'll be meaninglessly rolled over 😂

I should remind you guys of the schedule! Martial Arts vs Magic will only update once a week, officially. Although since we're only 7-chapters ahead rather than the promised 10-chapters, I'll try to post more to catch up asap.

Barbarian will also be updated slow here. The whole reason for having a 30 chapter backlog is so that I can enjoy my time relaxing as I post.

Regardless, we're so back baby!