Chapter 476: Chapter 476

Fan-Dragon Treads the Blossoms.

A technique devised by a boy who was once insignificant.

It was Jeong Yeon-shin’s desperate struggle when he first encountered the wall of fate.

A mayfly, doomed to perish swiftly, had forged it in defiance of time.

—Do you know? They say life itself is contained within the game of Go. It is no exaggeration. Even the temperament of prodigies can be expressed through the principles of Ten Tenets of Go—whether it be Great Flame Dragon or Azure Qilin.

Seonryong Jegal-hyeon.

Even when they had no close ties, he had shown kindness.

Like a festival swing that moved even when climbed alone, everything about Jegal-hyeon—his words, his disposition—was such to Jeong Yeon-shin.

Fan-Dragon Treads the Blossoms was a divine technique created in his honor.

It was an ultimate technique infused with both Jeong Yeon-shin’s past and his hopes for the future.

—To reach for that which is beyond grasp.

The core principle of the divine secret art.

If applied to the sword, it captures the sword’s will.

If applied to a person, it deceives the body into believing it possesses the longevity granted only to those who live through endless ages.

One manifests as Sword Control. The other, Threefold Flame Purification.

The Upper Elixir Field’s divine resonance manipulates the sword, while the body deceives itself into existing beyond its limits.

Though it was a martial technique, it was closer to sorcery.

Now, with Dark Heaven Emperor’s Dragon-Summoning Art having unleashed a celestial catastrophe—

The being swimming within Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind was also a dragon.

A Fan-Dragon with a pure white fan-marked body.

Among all that the newly appointed Purple-robed One had seen, it was the most noble. It always would be.

The flood dragon manifested upon the land.

The Fan-Dragon swam through his consciousness.

Both were equally auspicious.

What would happen if they overlapped?

Jeong Yeon-shin realized.

That such an absolutely flawless state could exist in the world.

Had the Lord of Heavenly Extremity Sect, in his pursuit of the Way of the Sword, ever experienced such a state?

If they were to measure skill in a contest where both were unable to use Empty Moon Dance, Jeong Yeon-shin would still need to calculate at least half a step more precisely to have a chance at victory.

Or perhaps it was akin to Abbot Beomheo’s mental state, where he reconstructed his vital essence, spirit, and mind within the Void Nihility Realm through meditation.

It could even be close to the Lord of Ipwang Fortress’s innate sensory perception.

It surpassed all of them.

Of course, this was separate from the realm that absolute beings attained after treading long years upon the martial path.

This was simply a young prodigy briefly borrowing the body of a grandmaster.

Yet, even this much was overwhelmingly beyond Jeong Yeon-shin’s limits.

His body lifted slightly into the air.

A resonating light wheel vibrated from the Yongcheon Acupoint beneath his feet.

It felt more natural to not touch the ground.

This had never happened before.

Such a state was suited only for transcendental masters who had refined immortal daoist martial arts, like Yulha Nangnang of Mount Hua.

It was completely unfitting for a combat-oriented sect lineage, like Somye’s Martial Vein.

A blue flame blazed in Dark Heaven Emperor’s pale white eye sockets.

For the first time, his ethereal eyes—clouded with ghostly fire—did not gaze toward Zhang Sanfeng beyond the clouds.

Instead, they directly fixated on his junior, whose age was unimaginably young.

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly felt as though his entire being was exposed.

It was Dark Heaven Emperor’s piercing vision.

It felt as if he had completely seen through the ability of Fan-Dragon Treads the Blossoms.

It was an unparalleled art of spellbound martial techniques.

[You have committed an act forbidden to mankind.]

[Such an arrogant art. I cannot comprehend how such a thing is possible.]

He muttered to himself, as if one could only understand after witnessing the nature of multiple dragon species.

There was a cold fury laced within his frigid voice.

Jeong Yeon-shin, his pale eyes flickering with light, stared at him in silence for a long moment.

Then, he spoke slowly.

“The visage you wear—”

“—is it not something granted only to corpses?”

Silence fell over the surroundings.

The torrential bolts of lightning that had been endlessly crashing down also momentarily ceased.

Only the distant echoes of unfinished thunder resounded across the vast ocean of clouds.

[Child of Ipwang Fortress,]

[You must never consider yourself my equal.]

“To say such a thing—”

“—one must have thicker skin.”

...Which you clearly lack.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice remained steady as he spoke.

As he did, he focused on stabilizing the entirely changed sensation within his body through his breath.

Just as Dark Heaven Emperor seemed to be folding his incantations into the very air, preparing his spell as though he was reciting a true mantra—

Jeong Yeon-shin, too, required preparation.

Seamless as the Heavens.

All imbalances within his vital essence, spirit, and mind vanished.

It was as if he were distorting the harmony of heaven and earth with nothing more than his breath—

Much like the flood dragon itself.

My very bloodline feels different.

To masterfully integrate such an extremely sharp perception into one’s body typically required endless training.

At least, for the people Jeong Yeon-shin had always called monkeys, that was how it should have been.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not have their luxury of time.

He counted nineteen breaths before his body fully adapted to the change.

No longer was he like a clumsily built tower struggling to maintain the balance of his vital essence, spirit, and mind.

Now, with Fan-Dragon Treads the Blossoms, his body believed itself to be a dragon.

A divine energy rippled along the Grand Circulation Pathway, from the Life Gate Acupoint at his back to the Qi Ocean Acupoint in his lower abdomen.

It was truly a divine and sacred energy.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s own innate potential was beginning to assimilate with the flood dragon’s perception.

It was like a child who had never held a greatsword suddenly swinging it with unfathomable technique, as if wielding it with nothing more than sheer instinct.

[A child foolishly imitating Zhang Sanfeng...]

Dark Heaven Emperor chuckled quietly.

[What a futile effort.]

The sky, dark as a sea of ink, was torn ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) asunder.

The flood dragon’s colossal form swept through the air.

Its lightning-wrapped body descended, its massive head lowering toward the ground.

That single movement alone—

Was enough to send thunderous shockwaves rolling through the air, casting an enormous shadow over the land.

Above, the flood dragon coiled within the sky.

A misty vapor escaped from its gaping maw, revealing countless razor-sharp teeth.

The earth fell into silence.

It was an undeniable force.

A being that embodied natural disaster itself.

The Dark Heaven Emperor slightly raised both arms.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

[You will soon realize what you have done to boast of your petty skills. Foolish brat. Your innate talent is indeed extraordinary, but your downfall was considering yourself to be something inhuman like Sambong. You should have known humility.]

[...You knew it was a mistake, and yet you did it? You might have unknowingly awakened the dragon, whose consciousness lingers in a dream.]

Suddenly, a jet-black current surged up—whoosh—and coiled around the Dark Heaven Emperor’s body, shifting like a cloud.

A dense wave of energy rippled outward, forming a black mist that anyone could recognize as a defensive technique.

At the same time, below their feet, the dragon’s mouth opened wide, as if it were about to swallow the very earth itself.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s brows furrowed.

He had seen the dragon’s spectral form unleash its breath within the illusionary realm of the Golden Seal Sect. Even at the peak of his defensive techniques, enduring it had been the limit. If that was only a shadow, how much stronger would its true form be?

A powerful voice, sharp as lightning, struck his ears.

The sensation in his mind was bizarre. The low voice carried no discernible energy flow.

—This dragon has lost its reason. To put it in human terms, it is like one caught in a deep stupor, perhaps dreaming of the time when it was still an Imoogi among lesser creatures. The Dark Heaven Emperor is exploiting that disoriented state to manipulate it.

It was the voice of the abbot, Beomheo. Had he been observing the dragon with his enlightened perception, one that had attained the transcendence of the flesh?

Unlike Jeong Yeon-shin’s ability to see imminent death through his Heaven’s Sight, Beomheo’s vision seemed to pierce into the essence of things, comprehending what had already transpired.

—I can infer what kind of ability your divine technique possesses. It reminds me of our monastery’s Cleansing Sutra. It may be capable of stirring the dragon’s consciousness.

Rather than a voice, it was the transmission of thoughts—Wisdom-Light Mind Speech. The speed at which the message imprinted itself in his mind was beyond comprehension.

It felt as though they were exchanging words within a frozen instant of time. The dragon had barely begun to open its mouth—an event that should have taken no longer than a blink of an eye.

A discussion at the pinnacle of the martial world.

'That means the situation is dire.'

Jeong Yeon-shin absorbed Beomheo’s words as they flared like sunlight in his mind.

And just as swiftly, he shaped his own energy within his mouth, sending a response to the abbot below.

—Then the reason you praised me despite everything is because the Dark Heaven Emperor was going to unleash the dragon's rampage regardless?

There was a brief pause in Beomheo’s mental speech.

The reply came only a moment later—but even that was a fraction of a heartbeat.

The current abbot of Shaolin had long dwelled in the true Jianghu, a supreme existence. He was not one to waste time on personal emotions.

—We must coordinate before that colossal body begins to sweep across the land. Will you listen to my proposal?

The master of Shaolin’s Jade Staff sought cooperation from the Violet-robed of Yiphwang Fortress.

A rare event, but an understandable one.

Jeong Yeon-shin silently acknowledged it.

—You want to move the battlefield?

—Ahead lies Zhejiang. Let’s push it there.

Their agreement was brief.

Even amid the violent clash of energies that might disrupt their techniques, their coordination needed no further discussion.

Beneath them, the dragon’s maw trembled with a deep growl as it gathered searing red flames. The ground began to crack and dry out in every direction.

Even Jeong Yeon-shin, with his body tempered by forced rebirth, could feel the heat licking at his skin. A transcendent and divine force was mixed within.

At the same time, right in front of him—

[You think you can coordinate with Beomheo?]

The Dark Heaven Emperor extended his hand, unleashing a pale storm of lightning that tore through the air itself. An absurd amount of internal energy was packed into the strike.

[You intend to kill me and let the dragon ascend once more. Then go ahead and try.]

The approaching tidal wave of lightning flooded the space, momentarily illuminating the sky as if it were broad daylight.

The moment the blinding white lightning filled all directions, Jeong Yeon-shin realized—every strand carried the essence of the Weighted Death Technique.

'The moment it touches me, it will pierce through my defenses.'

But even as the lightning turned his vision white, his expression remained indifferent.

The battlefields of demonic heretics recognize no distinction between plains and villages. Their own desires take precedence over all else.

That was why they wielded their arts here without hesitation.

Yiphwang Fortress was different.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought of Yong Hui-myeong, the commander of the Divine Sword Corps. And at the same time, he recalled countless comrades.

Their battlefield was noble.

Suddenly, Jeong Yeon-shin pushed off from the air, flipping backward in a massive arc.

He had completely ignored the incoming lightning.

Trailing behind him, like a constellation, were residual afterimages shimmering in the air.

And in the next instant, upside down in midair—

The dragon loomed before him.

A casual command tossed toward Chilsa-do, still tangled in So Cheonmujuk’s black flames.

At the same time, a crisp, clear voice echoed over the battlefield.

It was Yulha Nangnang’s voice.

In that instant, between Jeong Yeon-shin and the dragon, a translucent wall of glowing twilight emerged. A sword screen—a manifestation of a sword technique that had reached the pinnacle of both offense and defense.

She had condensed the entirety of Purple Grandmaster Art and the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword into a single breath. The scale was truly overwhelming.

'This isn't an attack. It’s a battlefield.'

Jeong Yeon-shin realized.

With a single stroke, she had woven a vast barrier of blade energy, like countless blooming plums, forming an impenetrable curtain of shifting trajectories.

A message, written in the language of the sword—she was telling him to strike with all he had.

'With this level of refinement...'

It was enough to uniformly distribute impact force across the entire front of the dragon. That was the capability of the current head of Mount Hua.

Deep thunder roared from within Jeong Yeon-shin’s clenched fist.

The sound of his internal energy amplifying its striking force in perfect rhythm with his muscles and meridians—the very essence of impact arts. A rapid succession of reverberations rippled through his body in an instant.

At this moment, his control over his energy had reached a level of blinding speed. His entire body shimmered with radiance.

Just as the dragon, lost in its dream, spewed forth a red inferno—

Jeong Yeon-shin’s right arm blurred like the wind.

Like a fleeting shadow in a close-quarters brawl, his fist traced a short, sharp trajectory, igniting a series of explosions. Translucent waves of force pulsed through Yulha Nangnang’s sword screen in rapid succession.

For a fleeting moment, the glow scattered—

Then, with the force of a cannon blast, the impact surged forward, striking the dragon’s massive body.

The vast, coiled form of the dragon twisted violently, its immense bulk carving through the sky with a piercing sonic boom.

The deafening blast followed belatedly.

As its enormous head recoiled, residual flames leaked from its maw, painting the ground in silence.