The surroundings were pitch-black in all directions, but the dim starlight dotted across the sky gave it a gentle glow.

They were all condensed traces of Jeong Yeon-shin’s footwork energy, floated upward.

The culmination of all the sword techniques that the “Northern Emperor” had endured until now was dark—just like the night sky of the martial world.

Within it, Jeong Yeon-shin thought:

From this point on, the flow of battle must be under his control.

A constellation of swords.

It was the manifestation of the second Grand Taiji, which would allow him to unfold unknown and mystical sword techniques with full tenfold strength.

The reaction came from a distant ridge.

“What kind of divine sorcery is this?! They said the Gate was cut down... This must be Heaven’s wrath!”

“Fall back! It’s the Sword Domain! Spread the word—the Divine Sword Group’s strike spans the entire ridgeline!”

They were no different from the martial artists of the Jinryeong Mountain Range.

Of course, there was no time to worry about them.

Even as the highest-tier battle in the martial world unfolded, people poured down the mountain in droves.

But Jeong Yeon-shin silently swept his eyes over them.

While he engulfed both the Lord of Broken Swords and the Ipwang Fortress Lord into the swamp-like depths of his ever-deepening senses, his gaze held a faint trace of pity.

So many people.

Most must have gathered from Hanam alone.

The crowd that filled the slopes beneath the Silent Radiant Sword Sutra looked like withered, blackened stalks of grain.

Those drawn by the rumor that the Gate of Mount Song had been sliced.

A few lifted their heads in confusion under this sudden twilight, their movements rippling like a dead field of reeds.

Maybe...

They really might be stalks of grain just before the harvest—just before death.

So long as the famine continued, they were no different from Jeong Yeon-shin—living on borrowed time.

“They’re coming.”

The voice came from the limping man beside him.

Even without turning his head, Jeong Yeon-shin could guess his expression. There was excitement in his voice.

At the same time—

When he raised his head, the side of the Ipwang Fortress Lord’s face hovered before him, like a slender crescent moon.

Her snowy-white skin shimmered faintly with a transparent wall of internal energy, and the twilight sky pulled away from her immaculate form like a curtain.

She had placed a hand on Jeong Yeon-shin’s abdomen.

Swish—

The sensation of her palm pressing as if to push away his defensive energy, his purple robe, and his abdominal muscles all at once.

Gone was the usual gentleness.

Only indifference remained—so abrupt that Jeong Yeon-shin’s instincts reacted on their own.

A killing strike...!

Her hand held such compressed force that it no longer felt like anything at all.

Like a moon halo with not a trace of heat.

There wasn’t even the usual roar of an explosive palm force.

An impact that seemed to overturn his very innards burst through Jeong Yeon-shin’s abdomen, and hurled his body across to the opposite peak.

Boom!

Only after he slammed against the rocky cliff like a pale streak of light did the collision echo from his back.

It was brief—because the rebound had happened at a speed he’d never experienced.

The force included a subtle technique that even embedded the recoil into the opponent.

The pain was immense.

His body felt crushed.

Her hand has grown even stronger.

It was a technique he’d once used to protect his maternal grandfather and the Elder Council Head from the former Lord of the Pure Demon Pavilion—now wielded as a pure offensive strike.

Even the world’s strongest had not ceased to advance.

She stood silently in the spot where she’d flung Jeong Yeon-shin.

The constellation of the Silent Radiant Sword Sutra scattered faint light like rainfall, and her hair, surrounded by that glow, rippled in white-green waves.

The Supreme of the World—Ipwang Fortress Lord.

She seemed to exist alone in this world.

“...Am I an irritation to you?”

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his mouth, looking down at her.

“Why? You’re part of Tree of the World now, aren’t you? We have no ties whatsoever.”

The round eyes of his young master—whom he’d met hundreds of times—overlapped with the Ipwang Fortress Lord’s.

At the same time, she lifted her head toward him.

“......”

Their eyes met clearly.

And she smiled—white and faint.

A smile like pale moonlight, not at all human.

“Because I met you, flower seed.”

“What?”

“Our bond is in full bloom.”

That cryptic statement was all.

Suddenly—

Thud, drag—

The sound of heavy feet scraping the ground rang out.

The limping man had stepped to her side.

A massive shoulder turned, and the Martial God’s fist struck like a whip, smashing through space in an instant—

Thud.

It was blocked by a pale blade.

The Ipwang Fortress Lord had crossed her arms, and in her hands was the Blade of Annihilation.

Its flat blade rested like armor over her shoulder—not as a show of contempt, but as a swordswoman’s unconscious mastery.

A realm of absolute composure.

With her elbows supporting the hilt, she absorbed the Martial God’s full force.

Her long legs didn’t budge an inch, and she grounded the power of the world’s greatest external force into the earth below.

Rumble—

The shockwave tunneled underground like rain soaked into trees.

The earth beneath her feet swelled briefly like a sandcastle.

Even though the foothills of Mount Song were embedded with Shaolin’s permanent defensive formations and should’ve been indestructible—

It was a mysterious, unshakable stability.

Could she have withstood all of the Martial God’s overwhelming strikes like this until now?

The Martial God.

Even through the eyes of Jeong Yeon-shin, who had just returned from meeting the Three Peaks Hermit, she was a completed being—a true master who transcended past and present.

The most powerful being in this era where the martial world had risen to unprecedented heights.

He would have to take control of the battlefield with a method befitting her.

“Southern Emperor is right.”

Suddenly, the Martial God’s lips twisted into a long grin.

“If I tear apart someone like you, then all the grotesque roots spread across the world will be torn out with you. A new age of harvest will arrive. No more people devouring each other like beasts.”

Only then did the Ipwang Fortress Lord turn her head toward him.

“......”

The difference in their height was immense.

The Martial God had to look far down at her.

But the way they stood close together—

Felt strangely aligned.

Two gods of the Yang bloodline facing each other.

“You carry the great gate alone...”

The Ipwang Fortress Lord murmured, still with arms crossed and sword in hand.

“You wish to replace me?”

“I grew with that intent.”

The Martial God’s words were grandiose.

Meaning, ever since he wandered the Demon Realm as a child, he had chosen his path.

All the gathered Six-Star Generals said he was the incarnation of battle.

He intended to enter the Great Gate she bore and never emerge again.

The Ipwang Fortress Lord slowly nodded.

“You can do it.”

A strikingly human gesture—but precisely for that reason, it carried an eerie, inhuman undertone.

Like something not human pretending to be.

“Enough of that.”

The Martial God chuckled, withdrawing his fist like a brawler from the dark path.

“The emperor who would’ve acknowledged me is dead. I have no need for your approval either. So this time—why don’t you be the one to come in first? Since you were born an invader, you should have some confidence in striking first.”

But the Ipwang Fortress Lord only parted her lips again—

Like a tree branch brushing aside the affairs of men as if they were nothing but a light breeze.

“The rest.”

A short question.

What would become of those left between the other gates when the Martial God entered the great one?

Even as one who transcended worldly matters, she still asked about the Martial God’s Jianghu. To Jeong Yeon-shin, it was no more than a few words tossed like charity.

“The whole world is the Jianghu, is it not? Struggle is permitted to all.”

The massive limping man replied in his rough tone.

“But no one can overcome starvation. I will burn through what cannot be overcome.”

That was it.

There was no room for negotiation.

No conversation could change the fact that he intended to kill the Ipwang Fortress Lord. The ridges flipped in lines like a drunkard’s clumsy swing. She disappeared beneath a tidal wave of dust and stone.

Crash! Crash! Crashcrashcrash—!

The two who had long symbolized the North and South, even before the Divine Sword Group entered the world—

Now the entire Jianghu watched only them.

This was a fight no one dared interfere with.

Jeong Yeon-shin quietly lowered his gaze. Shaolin’s mountain gate stretched clearly below him.

Shrrkkk! Boom! Boom-boom!

Beimei Sword Empress with her long limbs, the giant Mungoek, the silent Qing Shui Zhenren who had risen without a trace like a drifting cloud with his sword lowered, Socheon the Invincible and the Dragonwill Blade Lord cloaked in dark flame — Supreme masters, any one of whom could kill a peer in a single perfect blow.

In this moment, they ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) looked to Jeong Yeon-shin like the Eighteen Arsenal Weapons capable of stopping even the world’s best. Each was a divine weapon of the highest order.

With my martial skill, I must make use of them.

Looking farther down to the side — he saw the grand military formation of the Great Purity Alliance.

A writhing mass like the body of the flood dragon he saw in Hangzhou. It was likely because they couldn’t allow a “liberated Shaolin” to exist so close to their base in Luoyang. And surely also because their most vital power—Lord of Broken Swords—had ascended the mountain.

A few members of the Divine Sword Group were holding back that monstrous crowd. A trail of radiant sword light flickering on the ridgeline like a Milky Way— brightening and dimming, again and again. From afar, it looked precarious.

Step.

In the next moment, Jeong Yeon-shin stood beside Lord of Broken Swords.

The so-called “Greatest Sword of the World,” who had not moved a muscle until now. Still stood like a scarecrow with his greatsword embedded in Heaven's Pole Lord’s abdomen — his breath now faint.

No—

He had been moving.

Jeong Yeon-shin saw it.

Subtle muscular twitches across Dan Seong-eum’s body—like a heartbeat.

Because he had reached the pinnacle of moving energy, he understood. Such tiny muscular reactions were not unconscious. They were like the automatic stirrings of a body just before waking from a long sleep.

Is it because of Master? So much resentment...

Would Dan Seong-eum, now regaining his reason, unleash the true secret of the Three Wild-Breaking Forms?

Such a cataclysm could not be allowed to roam the Central Plains. Even just suppressing the Ipwang Fortress Lord and Martial God here would demand his life.

“You.”

“......”

“Are you about to wake up?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.

But the gaunt swordsman gave no reply.

Wrapped in blade energy as transparent as dew, he stood still, his gaze hollow — as if sinking deep into some bottomless abyss.

Hssshhh—

He cloaked himself in the sword energy pouring endlessly from the blade engraved with “Silent Gong” in crooked characters.

It slowed as the opponent neared, before unleashing deadly counterattacks using the mysteries of the heavy sword.

No other internal energy method.

A swordsman who breathed with the blade. One who had poured his dulled senses into a single sword for a lifetime.

Still a half-formed being. His will is empty.

Jeong Yeon-shin moved his arm without emotion.

Boom!

He struck Dan Seong-eum’s mid-dantian hard with the back of his hand, which still retained a trace of hardened starlight. The blade hilt shuddered back slightly. Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand latched on like a hook.

He gently kicked the unmoving Heaven's Pole Lord’s body off the sword, then tapped his sunken abdomen with the tip of his foot like administering acupuncture.

Pushing palace, opening meridians.

A technique that stopped bleeding and promoted energy flow. The blood halted at once.

At the same time, Dan Seong-eum shot upward toward where the Ipwang Fortress Lord and Martial God had vanished. His actions were erratic — like a delirious man.

Thump.

The blind man’s hat wobbled as he slumped down like a street comic.

A hoarse voice trickled out.

“Why... bother?”

Why save someone on the verge of death?

And yet, his internal energy remained intact.

Likely thanks to both Dan Seong-eum’s overwhelming constitution and his residual true qi.

“You’re still useful.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke nonchalantly. He shook his hands—both of which bore shallow reddish scratches, as if they’d been grazed by a blunt blade.

Without his Starlight Protection, his arms might have been severed.

The force ran deep.

Strangely enough, his hand — the one that crushed the man’s solar plexus—felt refreshed. A familiar kind of sensation. The “taste of the blade,” as Heaven’s Pole Lord used to say.

“You—”

The blind man muttered as Jeong Yeon-shin grabbed him by the collar.

“I don’t understand why you’d launch such stars now of all times.”

“You mean the Silent Radiant Sword Sutra?”

“Yes. This is a time to conserve strength, if anything. The spectacle was lovely, but... between the Tree of the World and that cripple, and your underlings facing the massed forces of the Great Purity Alliance— the so-called unification of the martial world that’s throwing open the gates of a nation— why look so relaxed? How many funerals do you plan to attend? There’s no mourner with as many ancestral tablets as you.”

“You seem lively enough.”

“There’s no greater joy for a swordsman than mocking a worthy rival. Think of it as my final amusement before death.”

“That constellation isn’t mine alone.”

“...Huh?”

“Namhwa’s Grand Taiji disperses both will and ability like Wudang’s Twin-Intent Heart Art. The Silent Radiant Sword Sutra manifests any sword technique I’ve witnessed at full strength.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Then you know your provocation was pointless.”

Jeong Yeon-shin slung Heaven’s Pole Lord over his back like luggage, and began walking through the air toward Shaolin’s inner grounds.

His voice calm—

“All masters of the Divine Sword Group who’ve learned the Jeong Family’s Inner Arts... are now on par with me.”

Just then, far below—

Shin Hwang, the Lord of Destruction, pierced several cliffs like a living sword.

Shin Sobin’s Final Thunder erupted with a swarm of thunderous bursts.

Heonwon Chang’s single sword cut a peak clean through — a strike as if he and Heaven’s Pole Lord had joined hands.

And the Grand Commander who took Moonlight’s head was wielding the Sword Saint’s sword field to safely cast area-wide sonic attacks.

Each was engaged in a one-versus-many battle.

Now, finishing their fights. Even without seeing, he could feel it.

The immense energy of the Great Purity Alliance’s elite scattering apart.

Meanwhile—

Jeong Yeon-shin stepped lightly onto the rooftops above Shaolin’s pagoda forest.

He silently tracked the trails of his master, the Martial God, and Lord of Broken Swords across dozens of peaks.

Then—

Heaven’s Pole Lord asked:

“I get the utility of it. But what of your own fight? You gave away your power like water. Well, I suppose that cripple and that fool together really might be enough to kill your master.”

Just then, suddenly—

From beneath his feet, a great formation activated.

[With the solemn approval of the 108 guardians of the mountain, the master of the Jade Buddha Staff declares from the Hall of a Thousand Buddhas—]

Shaolin’s Abbot’s voice rang out like a chant, spreading in all directions.

[We invoke the Hundred and Eight Arhat Formation.]

Jeong Yeon-shin felt it— through the back of the blind man in his grip.

It was as if the man’s eyes had opened. In those clouded pupils must have been the image of 108 monks.

He spoke slowly.

“The Tree of the World and the Demon Tribe... Their vitality is boundless. At least here—”

Jeong Yeon-shin continued calmly—

“I will act as if I’m always at full strength.”

All martial arts come from Shaolin, it is said.

That applies to spiritual strength as well.

The energy rising from beneath his feet was now transforming his Wheel of Radiant Power into something beyond.

The 108 Arhats of Shaolin had taken on the role of replenishing his meridian flow.

Its purity was such that even time seemed to stand still.

Woooooouuunnng—

It surged upward—from the Dragon Spring point beneath his feet to the upper dantian.

The spiritual power in his body beat like the wings of a golden phoenix.

At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin sensed his own energy waves restoring Heaven’s Pole Lord’s true qi as well.

“You are a prisoner.”

He spoke.

“Die only with my permission.”

In this moment— his voice was as violent and final as the presence he had once felt in the Meditation Cave. Like the echo of Bodhidharma himself.