The acrid scent of burnt ash soon scattered in the spring breeze, but on Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder remained a dark mark, like ink from a calligraphy brush.

Any top martial artist could tell it was the mark of the world’s strongest wielder of Sammae True Fire.

With a single strike, the overwhelming spiritual essence of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress had seared itself into the character Huang, and that charred letter, now devoid of even the slightest sheen, looked as though it would remain pitch-black for eternity.

“......”

She stood frozen, fingers still resting on Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder. Slowly, but unmistakably, the pulse in her arm faded away.

She looked like a tree in famine.

Even then, her deep green eyes remained tilted down toward the ground. Shadows clung to her long lashes. Not once did the master meet her disciple’s gaze.

Not even after declaring their bond severed.

“What... what did you just do...?”

It was a mutter from one of the Myung Clansmen.

Only then did Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze regain focus.

His ears rang, as if he were submerged underwater. The backlash from forcing his way through the Gate that Empress Dowager Wi Yeon had opened in the office of the Fortress Lord—he had broken through like a beast, and now all sound was growing faint.

‘Master.’

Still, he couldn’t speak.

And in this moment,

there was nothing he could do.

Though their sleeves brushed in the breeze, it felt as distant as the northern wall of a fortress.

“That stance... that qi...”

Another Unification Myung Clansman murmured, this time with the tone of analysis.

“We can hunt the Divine Sword Corps Leader.”

“He’s veiled by a Gate. His senses will be dulled. Movement must be limited as well.”

“Prepare the bowstrings.”

“Notify Lord Chi-cheon Gungbaek.”

In the next moment, a massive shockwave erupted at Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet. An arrow, like an artillery shell, ripped through the air and struck down—had he not shifted twenty paces to the side just before, it would’ve landed squarely.

Woom—

At the same time, a vibration spread up from the earth and seeped into his body. Without needing to look, he knew it was a joint strike technique from Cheonhamok’s master archers—something he’d heard about from Yong Hui-myeong.

—“You’ve succeeded in the Northern Expedition, but ironically, that means the moment you descend to the central plains, the whole world will be your enemy. Envy, suspicion, schemes... That’s just how the world is.”

Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the advice of a former Corps Leader in a flash. He wanted to shake off the feeling that his master was now a world away.

—“Even the snobs of Cheonhamok were no different. A long time ago, I struck up a friendship with a man named Northern Bukmyeong Gwonhu... nearly ended up as target practice. Their guardians must’ve gotten jealous of my martial skills. They’re masters of collective archery aimed at a single man. What did they call it again...”

Azure Sky, Blazing Sun Form—

A guiding martial art.

They said that no matter how many arrows were fired, they would all accelerate toward one target—an instant-death technique. Even with tens of thousands of arrows, every one would hit. In the late Yuan era, only the old Ming generals and the Eastern Lee Clan Commandos had managed to keep pace with it.

“Divine Sword Corps Leader. You’ve trespassed upon sacred land without permission or notice from the Root.”

Empress Dowager Wi Yeon’s voice sank low like a falling leaf. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

“Cheonhamok is now at a critical point where it must harvest its earth energy. And you’ve already made an enemy of our clan back in Ipwang Fortress. Will you surrender here?”

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly raised his head.

His vision widened.

He could see the archers of Cheonhamok.

Over a thousand of them filled the dense branches like leaves. Each had already loaded a technique-infused shot. The air itself shimmered translucent around them.

And not just in front—similar presences flanked both sides and the rear.

By sheer numbers, it was the size of a nation’s army.

Many among them must have fought and returned from battling the demonic warriors of Yuan during the founding of the Ming. They had played a pivotal role in elevating the Myung Clan to nobility.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin scanned them wordlessly. Wi Yeon did not ask again.

“Bind him.”

A command that pierced even Jeong Yeon-shin’s evolved body defense technique.

In an instant, thousands of arrows filled the sky. The barrage was so dense that it blotted out the clouds. And amidst that barrage, Wi Yeon walked forward like a mirage.

Each step felt as if it compressed time.

Swish—

Like a dull blade made manifest through a neural technique, Jeong Yeon-shin instantly knew—he couldn’t dodge. Though she was advancing with monstrous speed, her technique also disrupted her opponent’s sense of distance and time through upper dantian spiritual interference.

Her wrinkled right hand twisted space with immense force.

The moment had come—

The Founding Matriarch moved to the front lines.

Jeong Yeon-shin responded with a silent step from the Eight-Winged Glide, infused with the dispersing formula of Myriad Flower Rain. He didn’t take his eyes off the profile of his master, still bowed in silence.

Step.

With a single step, the surrounding earth upheaved in a vast wave and spat out an invisible storm. The falling arrows froze midair at once.

KWWAAAAAAHHH—!

The translucent gale shot upward, devouring all momentum in an instant. Orange lightning flared in violent arcs and faded.

‘Tch.’

Enormous strain flooded Jeong Yeon-shin’s upper dantian, and the faces of the Myung Clansmen who were nocking their second shots contorted in shock.

“Divine Sword Corps Leader...!”

“He’s veiled by a Gate, yet still...?”

The Unification Myung Clansmen.

The primary force that expelled the Yuan and ruled the world. Even gathering the Divine Sword Corps might not have been enough to stand against them.

Their collective strength rivaled the thirty-thousand Yo Tribe army that once nearly annihilated the Corps during the Black Blade withdrawal. Only with such might could the Ming dynasty have been established.

He wouldn’t be able to block a second strike.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Not even Zhang Sanfeng of Wudang held off the Yuan alone. At this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin had stepped into a grave searching for his master—and yet all he could do was look at her face.

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress, breath halted beneath her nose.

“I envy that child. And your humanity.”

Wi Yeon’s voice rang from his side.

She was right next to him now, palm pushing upward.

In that brief instant, the dry spring wind collapsed the surrounding air into a vacuum.

Hongmu Divine Art.

He’d heard of it before. A martial discipline devised during the Ming’s founding, created by Zhu Yuanzhang and the Myung Clansmen of Cheonhamok. It had also been the core technique of Emperor Geonreung.

Jeong Yeon-shin used the Eight-Winged Glide once more, sending all the arrows upward like a reversing waterfall. In that same instant, a sunset-colored sword deflected Wi Yeon’s palm.

CHHHHHHRANG—!

The earth dropped in a massive hemispherical crater, like a meteor had struck.

In that instant, Jeong Yeon-shin heard the sound of a woman’s bare foot brushing the soil.

He turned his head.

A white sleeve adorned with plum blossom embroidery fluttered wildly, soaked in sweat.

Hair matted with exertion trailed behind.

“Over here.”

Yulha Nangnang whispered.

In the next instant, Jeong Yeon-shin was gently drawn into the shadow of her hand.

Soiled hands scattered like flower petals. Blossoms bloomed midair—the Falling Petal Palm Technique swirled with the graceful motion of Hidden Fragrance Drift, spinning Jeong Yeon-shin in a full circle.

In that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin brushed shoulders with Yulha Nangnang. Her breath, ragged from what must have been a long series of escapes, hit him. The metallic scent of blood lingered from blocking Wi Yeon’s technique.

“......!”

They had already fought side by side several times in the lands of Shaanxi and Hangzhou. The push and pulse of their footwork, brought close as if dancing, now aligned perfectly. As their trajectories synchronized, they narrowly evaded Wi Yeon’s second palm strike through a tight spin. Jeong Yeon-shin’s inner energy barrier cracked with a jagged tear.

Hwaak!

―I came wondering what this was about, but it’s always like this with us.

Yulha Nangnang gave a faint laugh. Her voice was short of breath, a rarity—but a hint of joy clung to the message that crossed at breakneck speed.

―Did you come to fetch me? There’s no need to worry... No one but the old man of the Beggars’ Sect could block the escape of an absolute master. Not even the monsters of Cheonhamok are exceptions.

As she spoke, her left hand’s sword-finger lightly traced Jeong Yeon-shin’s chest. The transparent flow of refined qi from the Cheongcheon Baekil Body technique was severed cleanly by the purple sword seal. This was the support of an orthodox sect master.

But Jeong Yeon-shin wasn’t in a state to answer her. If he didn’t soon return from this gate created by Cheonhamok to his true self, the erosion would begin again.

Any further delay, and he’d end up like the Lord of Ipwang Fortress. Already, Jeong Yeon-shin’s internal flow and movements were no longer normal.

Perhaps sensing this with keen intuition, Yulha Nangnang’s brow furrowed slightly in the suspended time. Even the presences that had been chasing her seemed to descend from the sky like falling stars.

He could feel it in their approach.

Chi-cheon Gungbaek. Yongji the Sword Duke. And another vast pressure—very likely, Bukmyeong Gwonhu of the Four Great Guardians.

“Damn.”

Yulha Nangnang muttered.

At that moment, the voice of the High Monk Beomha resounded through the core of Cheonhamok like a temple bell.

―Beom-ryeol.

Just one word.

Immediately, the elite warriors of the Unified Myung Clans, who had been poised to unleash their strike, all stopped at once. As if they remembered when Beomha had performed the Empty Moon Dance before Jeong Yeon-shin to hold off the Dragon—Hell Unfinished · My Body Extinguished.

A sacrificial killing technique so absolute, it could bring even the world’s greatest to their knees.

“...Beomha.”

The Grand Empress Wi Yeon had already reached the space between Jeong Yeon-shin and Yulha Nangnang. Slowly, she lowered a hand like a dead tree.

―Namo Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.

The ragged Buddha’s cry pierced through the unseen gate.

Technically, it had already seeped in through the tear in space that Jeong Yeon-shin had half-ripped open. Given his stature as the former top orthodox master, no one could afford to ignore him—even if many speculators now dismissed the current Shaolin abbot as diminished.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyelids lowered slightly.

‘Unified Myung Clans.’

They obtained information no other faction could, with a speed far beyond that of other sects. To oppose them, one would need something like the Whirling Wind Hollow of the northern regions.

At the same time, they never sacrificed a single bloodline of their own. An arrogance befitting the "Most Powerful Faction Under Heaven." Even now, though they had stopped in place, they surrounded Jeong Yeon-shin and Yulha Nangnang with an airtight formation.

In that instant—

“Namo Curse-bearer.”

A hand dyed in a bluish hue split the space and materialized. It pierced the dull halo of color surrounding Jeong Yeon-shin and seized the hem of his robes.

He had intervened in Cheonhamok’s passage.

It was the defrocked monk who had accompanied Beomha to the realm of the ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) True Self.

Spiritual power radiated from his grip.

A clear sign that Shaolin’s long-standing wish had been fulfilled—one of the lost Seventy-Two Supreme Techniques.

Guanyin’s Azure Steel Hand...!

Jeong Yeon-shin offered no resistance to the golden-threaded hand pulling him in.

He simply vanished into the colorless void.

Of course, he tightly clutched the sleeve of Yulha Nangnang as he went.

In that moment—

Sssssshk—!

A middle-aged swordsman’s blade, already upon them, slashed through Yulha Nangnang’s sleeve.

It was a clean strike, devoid of greed—so precise, it felt as if this alone had been the goal all along.

Like Geumbyeokja.

It, too, was a sword technique of the caliber of the Five Heavenly Swords.

The middle-aged warrior of the Unified Clans—one of the Four Great Guardians, Yongji the Sword Duke—calmly watched Jeong Yeon-shin vanish into the air and spoke.

“I’m sorry about your master... Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.”

Before Jeong Yeon-shin could even guess what was being plotted through the Mount Hua Sect’s headmaster, he disappeared from the spot.

Fwoosh!

The leftover gust from the sword lifted a few blades of grass, forcing silence.

Even then, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress remained still, and all the dignified nobles, including Wi Yeon, quietly sheathed their hands and weapons.

Yulha Nangnang, left alone, curved her lips in a sly arc.

“Shall we start playing hide and seek again?”

“Give it up. That sword wind that touched you just now carried the internal energy of the Cheongcheon Baekil Body. Chi-cheon Gungbaek is locked onto you.”

Yongji the Sword Duke muttered bluntly.

Rrrrumble―

A distant thunderclap rolled out.

The Unified Clans had not even finished reassembling their formation.

Amidst a sound like thick parchment tearing violently, a hand appeared—its shape like a dragon’s forepaw—and wrapped around Yulha Nangnang’s waist.

The arm of the Divine Sword Corps Commander tore back out of space.

[Heaven Splitter]

Overwhelming spiritual energy echoed like a bell.

The arm clutching Yulha Nangnang’s abdomen bulged with sinew.

He spun her sharply and pulled her back.

And in the blink of an eye, Jeong Yeon-shin’s face emerged from behind.

“Nangnang, this way.”

His eyes blazed with azure light.

As the forcibly opened gate of Cheonhamok began to shut rapidly, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress came into focus within Jeong Yeon-shin’s pupils.

A smile—unnaturally pale—lifted her red lips. Her face had changed. The atmosphere itself had changed.

“I will cut you down.”

Jeong Yeon-shin declared it calmly as the Unified Clans rushed in like ghosts.

He pulled Yulha Nangnang along with him—

And vanished completely into the true essence of Ipwang Fortress.

―With everything I have.

The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps’ declaration fluttered down after being struck by the wind.