“...What a peculiar event.”

That was the first thing Beomnyeol of Hell Heaven said.

Even as his hair was grabbed and dragged upward, he maintained a calmness like a serene, clear mirror. His behavior was the same as usual, keeping a cautious distance due to a misjudgment of the Divine Sword Sect Master’s character.

“All of a sudden, the air twisted and spat out a hand. I recognized the Qi as yours, so I let it be, but why has the temple turned out like this?” 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Sitting cross-legged in the misty haze, looking down from above. His disheveled hair whipped wildly around him. He looked less like a Buddhist disciple and more like an evil spirit being guided by a divine general.

“.......”

Many people's movements froze.

The level of Beomnyeol’s martial arts could be inferred — from Mu Gok and Jegal Cheong, to the former Lord of the Gongsun Clan, whose overwhelming sword wind had once sealed the Grand Monk Wonmu in place.

Even the Third Madam, Hyeong Ran, wore a grave expression. Perhaps she thought Beomnyeol, unlike Jeong Yeon-shin, would disregard the safety of the Xianghua guests. His devastating appearance made it believable.

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke quietly.

“It’s the Daesun Jeongmaeng. According to the reports I received, they call themselves the true Martial Alliance. Something unprecedented in both ancient and modern times....”

“Release my head now.”

Meanwhile, beyond the gate, Jegal Cheong chuckled incredulously.

“Even the Western Pontiffs have only recently managed to master spatial arts within gates, yet you yank a man out of a gate with mere gestures, bypassing even my dominion? Not even the Round Table would believe this story.”

“Oh.”

Wolyo clinked behind Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Those who deal in sorcery often have no friends. Probably because they have a habit of talking at length about things only they understand.”

Tap, tap.

He bounced lightly against pressure points around his vital meridians, as if flung by the wind — clearly a manifestation of Qi exhaustion.

Having faced over a hundred elites of Daesun Jeongmaeng, his inner power was running low.

‘There’s a limit to storing Qi in the upper dantian.’

He was someone obsessed with sound arts. If he wanted to roam the world wielding relic techniques, he had no choice but to lean on the burden of a carrier master.

If he couldn’t replenish his power after using his sound techniques, it would be true death — like a lantern whose oil had run dry.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought the situation of Daesun Jeongmaeng wasn’t much different.

They were trying to build a nation.

In turbulent times, they had to constantly prove their strength. Unless they maintained overflowing granaries, they would collapse at any moment.

Because they incorporated large numbers of secular martial artists, they burned like a huge fire fueled by the wood of the world.

‘What kind of person is Nangseong?’

Gripping the Ascended Sword that floated lightly in the air, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his mouth.

“They spoke of sealing Shaolin.”

Beomnyeol’s reaction was immediate.

“What did you say?”

“You must have sensed it too. The military energy climbing the mountain.”

From far below the foothills, a force was ascending Mount Song. Jeong Yeon-shin had sensed it just before entering the Face-the-Wall Cave — truly a number fit to establish a country.

‘If it were just a few strong individuals, they wouldn’t aim to found a nation.’

A martial force numbering easily ten thousand.

This was not the scale of the martial world. This was a matter for great nations.

“Are you done talking?”

It came from behind.

Mu Gok’s large shadow had already engulfed Jeong Yeon-shin and Beomnyeol, and in an instant, Beomnyeol flicked his hand backward as if shrugging off a friendly arm — crack! The air fractured.

‘He’s using Avalokiteśvara’s Green Steel Hand to counter a Hundred-Step Divine Fist?’

A bluish palm force spread like a spiderweb in the wind and halted Mu Gok in his tracks.

Immediately, the wind chimes of the Dharma Hall burst explosively in a chain reaction.

Clink-clink-clink-clink!

Breaking through dozens of protective Qi layers, the shockwave drove deep into Mu Gok’s abdomen. A giant concentric ripple bloomed around him, and with a deafening roar, the colossal figure shot like a cannonball, flying straight past Shaolin’s rocky cliffs.

“......!”

He was flung far away. White dust rose up like the tail of a skipping stone.

At the same time, a deep rumble vibrated through their skin.

Rumble—

It all happened in one exchange.

“What monstrous recoil... I must be getting old.”

Beomnyeol massaged his wrist and shook his head with a bitter smile.

He glanced toward where Mu Gok had flown.

The massive martial Qi unique to the Liu Yuan Star Generals vibrated with joyful laughter, showing no sign of diminishing.

—This is Naadam!

“...The harmony of his internal Qi and flesh is abnormally firm. Venerable Jeong, I fear just fighting that one would already overwhelm me.”

A man who had appeared so suddenly was now talking about battling one of the Liu Yuan Star Generals.

The former Lord of the Jegal Clan and the Third Madam of the Daesun Jeongmaeng looked slightly dismayed.

As soon as Beomnyeol vanished into the air while still seated cross-legged, their expressions grew even graver.

Another thunderous boom exploded where Mu Gok had crashed, and the mountainscape began to upend from the clash of two titans.

The Third Madam, Hyeong Ran, muttered under her breath.

“Diamond Immovable Body Technique? Did Shaolin have someone like that?”

“In times of sect destruction, the true depth of a school’s heritage is revealed. Even Ipwang Fortress had rumors that the Divine Sword Heavenly Fire survived....”

Jegal Cheong’s sharp question pierced toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Is it true?”

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer.

He was buying time.

The great masters of sorcery martial arts he had encountered were always pressed for time. That’s why, right at this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin shifted into an aerial step to his side.

In a blink, his figure blurred and emerged at Jegal Cheong’s flank like a tailwind. His left hand, imbued with constant flowing force, scattered countless afterimages like falling flower petals.

It was the form of the Flowering Dance of Infinite Energy.

And the pure white mist devoured the blooming hand shadows almost like a lie.

A technique to dismantle all things.

Fwoosh!

The aftermath of the Flowering Fist of Endless Rivers collided with the gate but was blocked. A faint smile formed at the corner of Jegal Cheong’s lips.

“Seasoned. Truly fitting for the Divine Sword Sect Master. Yes... This is how you should be.”

“Is it Heart-Controlled Sword?”

Jeong Yeon-shin murmured softly.

From ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) beginning to end.

The movements of the mist, concentrated like the sun, were abnormal.

It responded and shifted exactly as if it mirrored mental images.

It was evidence of the former Lord of the Jegal Clan’s long travels to the Western Lands.

‘The methods of strengthening are so varied.’

To take the greatest mysteries of past and present as one’s personal relic was no small feat.

Had the deceased Jegal Cheonsang lived as long as Jegal Cheong, he might have reached this level in decades.

Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!

On the ground, the faded sword winds of the former Lord of the Gongsun Clan barely skimmed past the Xianghua guests’ heads.

Grand Monk Wonmu, bloodied, roared like a lion in rage at the old swordsman.

Meanwhile, the rocky mountains supporting the Shaolin monastery trembled faintly.

Ash-white dust spilled down from various peaks.

An army of martial artists, about ten thousand strong, had climbed halfway up the mountain.

Rumble rumble—

Even Jeong Yeon-shin, who had returned from the Black Path, had never personally experienced a force of this magnitude.

The assault of thirty thousand heavily armored troops had been halted only by the will of the Southern Emperor.

‘Even now, it’s difficult enough to protect the Xianghua guests from the collateral damage. If those forces reach us too....’

The widespread Sword Song and Wolyo would spare no one, friend or foe.

Until then, it would be wise to save the Grand Tai Chi Technique.

Using the Formless Starfall Sword against the gate had already been a waste of energy.

‘How far can I react?’

He once again clamped the Ascended Sword between the dragon's teeth within his inner vision.

Whoosh—

In an instant, the sword curved like a flash of light, bypassing Jegal Cheong, and in the blink of an eye, a layer of white mist cloaked her body. It was as if the Gate itself had taken on the role of clothing. At the same time, the blade of the Ascended Sword sliced through the mist and spun back into Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand, humming.

It should have torn through Jegal Cheong’s side completely. Jeong Yeon-shin furrowed his brows.

“Union with the Gate...?”

[I am no longer merely Jegal Cheong. I am the culmination of a certain study.]

The old woman’s voice resonated in his mind.

Threads of pale mist fluttered around her like the robes of the Nine Heavens Mysterious Maiden. Though her body was buried within it, she had not entered the Gate itself.

The direction of her sorcery training had been different.

[This Gate is a natural disaster that once wreaked havoc even upon the distant western lands. Eminent scholars, mysterious sorcerers, venerable pontiffs, and armored monstrosities all engaged in its study. I, too, added my hand for amusement, and in doing so, witnessed both its limits and its fruition.]

“......”

[This union technique was merely a byproduct of their attempts to survive — the ultimate trick allowed by sorcery martial arts. What they truly sought was the extinction of the Gate... but producing a vessel as noble as this was their limit. Even then, it could not move far and thus became a discarded technique.]

A technique to move an open Gate across nations. Jegal Cheong’s tone was detached.

[If one were to make this a divine technique, one could surely dominate the world and claim invincibility. But what use is that now?]

The world was terminally ill — Jegal Cheong’s words trailed off.

It was a chilling blend of the detachment forged from vast experience and a poisonous hatred toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

[Across the Silk Road, the great nations have already sensed the existence of the World Tree. Some may have already set sail to cross the seas. One way or another, your master will die, and this world will meet its downfall.]

Below, Third Madam Hyeong Ran’s voice rang out.

“So this was why our Lord chose Luoyang as his base... to be able to block the Divine Sword Sect Master to this extent. If my Lord, the greatest sword Dan Seong-eum, and this Lady Jegal work together, they might even dare to speak of proclaiming an empire...”

Suddenly, Wolyo sneered at them.

“When body-guarding arts flourished, techniques for double rebirth were all the rage. Now, in times like these, if someone talks about invincibility just because they've achieved the state of union, what would the world become...?”

Whoosh.

Suddenly, Jegal Cheong, using ghostlike agility, approached Jeong Yeon-shin and seized his right forearm.

Her wrinkled hand surged with blue lightning and white mist, like a predawn storm about to split the heavens — the internal thunderbolt of sorcery martial arts and the mist of the Gate, respectively.

It was a perfect blend of offense and defense.

[Unified Thunder.]

The moment her sleeve brushed against him, Jeong Yeon-shin’s protective Qi was sucked into the Gate, and his exposed forearm crackled violently under the tension of the lightning-imbued palm.

Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand pierced through the mist surrounding Jegal Cheong like a cloud, darting in and out over a hundred times.

They were operating on different axes of time altogether.

Among the practitioners of sorcery martial arts, only So Cheonmujuk could have endured such close-quarters grappling.

‘Her palm has become oily...’

Jegal Cheong laughed.

[It’s meaningless. You should stop worrying about the Xianghua guests now. They’re going to die in the famine anyway.]

“We’ll see.”

Jeong Yeon-shin retreated a full jang with a single aerial step, once again cloaking himself in a translucent protective Qi.

Meanwhile, above them, over a hundred yellow-tinted comets rained down into the Shaolin grounds, drawing a massive circle.

Rumble! Rumble-rumble-rumble!

The moment the 108 monks, robed in yellow kasaya, landed, time itself seemed to stop.

That’s how it felt — the pressure was overwhelming.

Even the aftermath of their footfalls vanished before reaching the temple buildings.

Only the fragrance of incense, leaking from the distant Dharma Hall, grew heavier.

[The 108 Arhats of Shaolin. Certainly, such power couldn’t be allowed near Luoyang.]

Jegal Cheong muttered.

[But even they are destined to wither before the Gate... In truth, even my revenge is a futile struggle. Divine Sword Sect Seomye, I merely hasten your grief by a little.]

It was at that moment.

Boom!

From the direction where Mu Gok and Beomnyeol’s Qi had clashed — an enormous explosion erupted from within a distant peak, causing an unseasonal landslide.

At the same time, a boulder came crashing down toward Jeong Yeon-shin’s flank.

‘The stone wall of the Face-the-Wall Cave?’

Buzz—

The first halo trembled as if it would tear apart.

It was indeed debris from the Face-the-Wall Cave. He could even faintly make out the inscription “Hojong.”

Such misfortune was rare.

‘No... It’s heavenly fortune.’

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly descended to the ground.

He gripped the Ascended Sword tighter, paying no mind to the halo, whether it glowed or not.

He simply lowered his eyelids calmly.

“Hmph, what a circus.”

It was the voice of the Heavenly Extreme Sect Leader.

Apparently dragged along by Abbot Beomheo.

Jegal Cheong laughed as she saw them.

[Beomheo, how pitiful it must be for you to witness the annihilation of Songshan Buddhism. Unable even to stir the Empty Moon Dance anymore, just sit there and watch your meaningless title of “Strongest Under Heaven” fade away.]

Every word she spoke echoed a single theme — death, loss, and destruction.

Ironically, Jeong Yeon-shin, at that moment, felt a renewed clarity.

He realized he had long since abandoned his desire for the fruit of the World Tree.

He seemed to hear the voice of Bodhidharma.

—Hojong.

Empty yourself, and you shall find peace.

Jeong Yeon-shin inwardly answered in a whisper.

I was already empty.

Instantly, his heart became as light as a cloud.

After all, the “mind methods” were about how to use the heart.

The moment he heard the origin of the union technique from Jegal Cheong, Jeong Yeon-shin had already understood.

The heart of the Zhongnan Sword Immortal who wrote those secret incantations had transcended even life and death.

‘After seeing Jeong Hye, and Wei Ji the Great Hero, and the common folk of Zhongnan who could die at any moment...’

Those secret incantations.

A swordsman who could speak with the dead.

He had to be one who could walk into death himself.

A swordsman both transcendent and fiercely strong.

At least that kind of mental fortitude was necessary.

Thus, the halo meant nothing.

‘After all.’

How could it compare to the lives of common folk?

That faint thought condensed into the hand gripping the sword.

The halo shattered at his heart and was sucked entirely into the blade.

The sword then shone like sunlight teased by the clouds, flaring bright and dimming again.

The blade flickered like sunlight lost and regained.

In that instant, even Jeong Yeon-shin’s figure became faint.

Toward Jegal Cheong and the Gate.

“......!”

An unnatural dusk flickered across the faces of the 108 Arhats, the Heavenly Extreme Sect Leader, Abbot Beomheo, and everyone else present.

In the mirrored reflection of the cleaved mist, hundreds of pairs of eyes caught the image of a single sword.

With a sound like dry wood crumbling.

And yet—

Jeong Yeon-shin felt no exhaustion.

Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!

The sound reverberated from the hilt through his entire body.

As if the spiritual core of a long-forged mystical creature had broken its shell.

An overwhelming force, like that of Yong Hui-myeong or Tae Yeom-ryong, surged into him.

It filled every acupoint in his body, following the full flow of the Jeong Family’s Grand Circulatory Path.

Something that would have been impossible with the original Jeong Family’s martial foundations alone.

‘Ah.’

The image of his father Jeong Ban-ak’s humble grave flickered in his mind.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin silently sheathed his sword.

At that moment, Jegal Cheong, her eyes wide open, fell from the now-clear sky.

Her faded pupils brimmed with every imaginable emotion.