Chapter 472: Chapter 472

Three former grandmasters were killed in succession.

The long robe Jeong Yeon-shin wore was merely a token deep purple, yet the faded noble clans recognized its significance immediately.

“Yes, he had no choice but to intervene!”

They no longer approached.

Instead, they flickered in the dim air, their blurred figures lurking like tarnished steel gathering dust. Their murky skin blended into the atmosphere.

Before long, silence settled over the battlefield.

Five or six figures suppressed their energy entirely, their ashen eyes faintly glinting. They had seamlessly executed an extreme form of stealth concealment.

Their internal energy control was exceptionally advanced, even without having reached the pinnacle of the Three Harmonies Refinement.

The Drunken Beggar King quickly wiped away his momentary surprise.

“They are elders who have lived for countless years. Since they are of the noble clans, their bodies have not deteriorated. On the contrary, their internal energy has only grown deeper over time... Truly, their kind only becomes more troublesome with age.”

Weariness seeped from the wrinkled lips of the old beggar.

The deep furrow of his brow reflected yet another face of the martial world—a man counted among its most renowned figures, embodying both wisdom and the scars of a long, tumultuous life.

Leader of the Beggar’s Sect.

A master who bore the weight of the future with visible concern.

Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin was reexamining the existence of the Dark Heaven Emperor.

‘I don’t understand.’

The vast technique enveloping the area.

He could not comprehend its mechanism. Not even the structure of its energy was perceivable.

Perhaps it was because this was an entirely different class of spell-like martial arts, or perhaps because his upper dantian was no longer what it once was.

One thing was certain.

From the beginning, this domain had not been meant for mere mortals but was crafted with a single target in mind—Sambong Zhenren.

The Dark Heaven Emperor’s intent was clear. This was not a life-saving technique meant for distant successors. It was a martial doctrine forged over centuries, bound by an unrelenting obsession.

‘The mind remains sharp, but...’

Jeong Yeon-shin felt the surging force within him and could not help but marvel. It was not the time for such emotions, yet his heart swelled regardless.

His upper dantian had swelled only to collapse again. The silent roar in his head subsided.

His body, which had barely served as a vessel for the transformation, had finally fused completely with the divine essence of his upper dantian.

No, had fate not dictated his death at nineteen, would it have been the same?

Jeong Yeon-shin straightened his back.

A few white lightning bolts flickered around his body.

A power ripple from the Radiant Dharma Wheel Scripture. It reacted not to his thoughts but to the slightest motion of his body. His state of refinement had reached an extreme sensitivity.

A woman’s voice glided smoothly along the cave walls.

Jeong Yeon-shin lifted his gaze.

A figure sat cross-legged, upside down on the ceiling. Yet her long black hair and robes did not fall downward. It was as if she existed within a different set of physical laws.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. Her attire was too immaculate.

She was draped in a flowing white robe as extravagant as an emperor’s ceremonial dragon robes. The hems were embroidered with indecipherable patterns in pitch-black thread, likely ancient script.

Around her neck, a pure white scarf was wrapped. It exuded a faint mist, as though woven from the fur of a mystical beast.

This time, she was real. This was her true form.

Beside him, the leader of the Beggar’s Sect subtly adjusted his posture in recognition.

Jeong Yeon-shin stared silently at So Cheonmujuk.

“Your aura is different.”

A dangerously mesmerizing smile spread across So Cheonmujuk’s pale face. A charm beyond human grasp.

The essence of the Grandmaster of the Ming Cult.

Only the corner of her lips curled, yet her presence alone was overpowering.

“You think I wouldn’t make use of this? I’m not an idiot.”

She was speaking of the Nihilistic Annihilation Scripture.

Her manner had changed. Unlike the playful taunts she had thrown at him before, her tone now was no longer relaxed.

Jeong Yeon-shin paid it no mind.

“Where is Senior Baek?”

“Cho Ryeol is certainly an extraordinary figure. His standards are different. His gaze remains fixed on the past, and the one who stood at the center of that era was none other than Zhang Sanfeng.”

“Tell me where he is.”

“But even he could not defy fate. You and I—we are bound by a divine force far beyond our understanding. If it were within human reach, I would have revered Cho Ryeol as my benefactor. Soon, your upper dantian will stir again, and it will mock us. ‘Did I not grant you boundless potential?’ it will whisper.”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s pupils turned a brilliant white.

The Heaven-Piercing Method.

Within the dark cave, he began calculating distances and gaps.

Yet So Cheonmujuk’s crooked smile remained unchanged.

Instead of wielding # Nоvеlight # her demonic aura, she uttered words laced with something closer to divine wisdom.

“This cursed upper dantian is a celestial punishment. I once told you I had glimpsed the will of the heavens. Aren’t you curious what that means?”

“There are too many powerful beings in this world. They hoard the essence of nature within themselves, calling it internal energy, yet never return it to the land. We are the scythes meant to reap their heads. Not sturdy blades like diamond, but wooden sickles that will rot away after the harvest.”

Her voice slithered through the air like a blade slicing through silence.

“You’ve already experienced it, haven’t you? The martial world does not leave those like us alone. It finds us. And it ensures we meet our deaths. Wasn’t that exactly what happened in the world you grew up in?”

The question seemed casual, yet the weight behind it resonated deeply.

Jeong Yeon-shin, staring at her, placed his hand on Yeorei’s sword ripple and spoke a single sentence.

A sentence aimed at shattering whatever grand delusion she expected him to counter with.

“That’s a good thing.”

“Those kinds of people always end up using their strength to trample over the foundations that ordinary people build. Do you even realize that unless a nation permits it, one cannot legally bear weapons? That is imperial law.”

For a brief moment, the Drunken Beggar King’s arm flinched, but no one paid him any mind.

Between Jeong Yeon-shin and So Cheonmujuk, the very air distorted into a translucent blur.

Pale stone dust crumbled around them, scattering with a dry rustle.

“What have you done?”

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly asked.

“There is no trace of you in the present martial world. Did you do nothing in defiance of fate? You, who call yourself the successor of the Heavenly Demon?”

So Cheonmujuk’s smile deepened.

“The same goes for me. I single-handedly regressed the foreign martial world by a century. The only places left intact are the Potala Palace in Tibet and the Ice Palace to the north. Anything that stands out too much draws a blade toward it—whether that blade is a sword or simply a sharp gaze.”

For the first time, traces of her past emerged between her words.

“When must we keep listening to this? That child’s energy is affecting our lord...”

The moment one of the former grandmasters stepped forward, the entire battlefield was engulfed in black flames.

It was an illusion-like conflagration.

When the flames dissipated, nothing remained.

Not a scrap of flesh, not a fragment of clothing.

It was a terrifyingly unreal technique.

And So Cheonmujuk had not even lifted a finger.

She had merely glanced in their direction.

Jeong Yeon-shin could sense the silent astonishment of the Beggar’s Sect leader beside him.

The underground cavern was now sealed in an oppressive silence.

It felt as if the invisible embers of absolute destruction still lingered.

So Cheonmujuk muttered briefly, then turned to Jeong Yeon-shin with a smile.

“I was having a lovely conversation with someone important.”

She rose from her place.

Yet she still stood inverted, using the underground ceiling as her floor.

Thus, So Cheonmujuk stood upside down while Jeong Yeon-shin remained grounded, both looking up at one another. A moment of calm gazes was exchanged.

Their equally long hair flowed in opposite directions.

The first move belonged to the Divine Sword, Thunderclap.

It pierced the spot where So Cheonmujuk had been standing. The sword had launched from Jeong Yeon-shin’s sheath on its own.

His pupils traced a white arc to the side as he activated Heaven-Piercing Method, while So Cheonmujuk, flipping through the air as she descended, clicked her fingers with a smirk.

The ground beneath Jeong Yeon-shin transformed into a massive stone column and surged upward.

It was the realm of Empty Moon Dance, where her will continuously seeped into reality. For spell martial artists capable of reinforcing their techniques with incantations, it was akin to another level of Three Flowers Converging.

[Lightning at High Noon.]

It was a chained technique, executed in the blink of an eye.

Bolts of lightning burst through the cavern, illuminating it in blue, converging upon Jeong Yeon-shin as if drawn to him.

It was faster than any swift sword. The web of azure lightning engulfed him entirely, pulsating with violent intensity.

For an instant, the surroundings became as bright as midday. The sheer destructive power of the spell-like technique was overwhelming—like a second sun had risen, flooding the space with radiant blue light.

The heat pouring outward was immense. Soon, the very earth cracked and split apart with sharp, fracturing sounds.

Yet, the silhouette within the lightning prison neither burned nor disappeared. There wasn’t even the scent of scorched flesh.

The moment the lightning unfolded, he had wrapped himself in starlight, weaving it into a garment. It was an ultimate defensive technique.

“You may take your leave, Elder. You should stop the Great Tiger Dragon Art of Taemosan’s Lord.”

A calm voice flowed out from within the lightning.

The Drunken Beggar King flinched. He glanced between the gourd tied to his waist and the short staff in his other hand, his expression conflicted.

“...Do you intend to face the Cult Leader alone? Even if you are one of Ipwang Fortress’s Purple Cloaks, you should reconsider. That woman... every rumor about her rampage in the outside world is true. She earned the title Invincible for a reason...”

His words were cut off.

At the same moment, the figure trapped in the lightning vanished, and before anyone could react, Jeong Yeon-shin appeared right before So Cheonmujuk—who had been casually pointing her long fingers around the space.

It was the pinnacle of Shifting Form, Exchanging Position. Faint afterimages of Jeong Yeon-shin trailed behind him in succession.

His fist slammed into a translucent barrier.

It was So Cheonmujuk’s internal energy shield, conjured on the spot. Yet, despite merely striking it with a forceful Iron Wall Fist, a violent backlash sent both their garments billowing.

Not only was his movement drastically different, but even the speed of Flowing Flowers Limitless Fist was entirely unlike before. In an instant, cracks ran along the once impenetrable wall of energy.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

So Cheonmujuk’s low laughter blended into the roaring noise.

[I loosened the restrictions slightly, yet it’s still difficult to handle you.]

Jeong Yeon-shin raised his left hand.

It was already bathed in pure white radiance. A brilliance even paler than the Demon-Cleansing Divine Art So Cheonmujuk constantly maintained. A technique that had once broken part of the Shifting Void.

Demon-Vanquishing Light.

His hand slipped past So Cheonmujuk’s internal energy barrier as if it were air and grasped the hem of her white robe.

The sequence of movements was so natural that it defied belief.

So Cheonmujuk’s eyes widened for the first time.

Even the Drunken Beggar King, passing by her, showed rare astonishment, yet by then, So Cheonmujuk’s gaze had already curved beautifully into a crescent moon.

[Even more impressive upon seeing it again. A technique meant to counter me directly... You must have thought about me day and night.]

Jeong Yeon-shin gave no response.

His hand, which should have reached her collarbone, could go no further. The pulse of an overwhelming force met his touch—Demon God’s Armor.

Sparks of dark blue electricity crackled wildly.

For the first time, he was stopped.

At that moment, So Cheonmujuk tilted her head slightly and whispered.

“You’ve been on my mind too. You are my only true counterpart, my absolute opposite. Who else could I dwell upon while I breathe?”

Even as she spoke, a silent incantation spread.

[Ember’s Hollow Yearning.]

There was no visible energy fluctuation.

The moment her breath grazed his hand, the pure white light shattered like glass.

A sound like sand grinding together swept through the air. It was literally demonic magic—a method that disrupted the fundamental structure of Demon-Vanquishing Light.

Simultaneously, Jeong Yeon-shin’s robe disintegrated, exposing bare skin.

His once-pristine Purple Cloak had already been shredded by the Heavenly Extremity Sect’s sword earlier, and now it barely hung from his shoulders as a sleeveless garment.

The Grandmaster of the Demon Sect.

Her mastery over spiritual power and demonic energy could restore the balance between faith and corruption.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought about his past in the Demon Sect. He could immediately recall the same technique being used there. He felt the silent approach of Threefold Infernal Flame, shrouding the space.

If a gentleman and a demon mirrored each other in a fractured mirror, were they truly the same?

At that moment, light flowed from within Jeong Yeon-shin’s body.

If the battle could not be won in this setup, then he would simply change the board.

[Of course, you wouldn’t be surprised? Maybe it’s time for a little nap.]

Just as the overwhelming Black Flames So Cheonmujuk conjured were about to engulf them both entirely—

Jeong Yeon-shin vanished like an illusion, shifting a step to the side. At the same time, he exerted force into his right foot as though pressing into solid ground.

Suddenly, Shattering Void activated beneath his foot, sending waves of light surging through Yongcheon Acupoint like cascading ripples. The layered impact did not just stack—it completely broke past the concept of accumulation and slammed into the underground chamber.

Perhaps, anticipating the need to defend against a powerful counter, So Cheonmujuk instinctively withdrew, an almost startled look crossing her face.

A deafening tremor shattered the entire ground.

It was as if an entire cluster of firebombs had exploded at once. Massive fractures raced across the walls, spreading like the legs of a spider.

Then, in an instant, all the solid rock shattered to dust, erupting into a thick cloud.

The once enclosed space expanded infinitely.

Above the vanished ceiling, the sky burst open. Suddenly, blinding sunlight poured in.

“What’s happening? What?!”

“The Dragon Lord already—?!”

“Get away from the Monk! No, but the Flame Sword Saint is...!”

Through the chaotic collapse, Jeong Yeon-shin sensed multiple new presences.

Behind him, he felt the dense energy of Won Young-shin, the Shaolin Abbot, Yulha Nangnang, Cheongsu Jin-in, Ak Su-rim, and a myriad of other figures.

Ahead, he sensed the Drunken Beggar King, several ancient energies, and Cho Ryeol.

The Great Tiger Dragon Art had been completed, its immense energy radiating, impossible to measure.

The commotion began to settle.

Was it because this battlefield was one that no faction dared to approach lightly? Or because the entire space was brimming with Transcendent Masters?

A deep silence settled over them.

Surrounded by these overwhelming auras, sunlight rippled and bent around Jeong Yeon-shin.

His form emitted a faint glow.

His tattered robe pulsed with a rapidly oscillating inner force. The Emperor’s Gifted Robe was an artifact imbued with spiritual energy.

The torn sleeves extended once more like flowing silk.

He nonchalantly ignited Threefold Infernal Flame.

With a hiss, black 荒 symbols burned across his shoulders.

Through the swirling dust, the completed garment swayed with the cascading sunlight.

He slowly took a step forward.