Chapter 479: Chapter 479

The endlessly long body of the flood dragon.

The supreme masters who arrived in Hangzhou had, at this moment, taken a calamity manifesting on earth as their battlefield.

If not for the Dark Heaven Emperor’s dragon-controlling sorcery keeping the exalted creature in slumber, even this much would have been impossible.

The moment either side’s internal energy was exhausted, it would be over.

Even just descending to the ground, the dragon blanketed the sky with storm clouds as though laying out a sea of mist, summoning endless thunderbolts. If it fully regained consciousness, it would become utterly unbeatable.

This was a battle against time, and Abbot Beomheo entrusted the rest to Jeong Yeon-shin and Yulha Nangnang.

Jeong Yeon-shin intensified the blazing rotation of the radiance within his heart as he reconsidered.

Yulha Nangnang had already done her part by driving the flood dragon all the way to Zhejiang. The Red Tide of the Vast Moon Dance—a feat Jeong Yeon-shin himself could never accomplish.

Thus, severing Dark Heaven Emperor’s lifeline had to be done by the Imperial Purple Newcomer. The Shaolin abbot of this era had chosen Jeong Yeon-shin. The battle had unfolded that way.

Upon the vast circular waters of the great river—

The eyes of the living and the dead met, pressing against the silence.

Jeong Yeon-shin knew little.

His learning amounted only to the Four Books and Five Classics he read under the indifferent guidance of a teacher, along with passages from Laozi and Zhuangzi. His understanding was shallow.

The ones who had, for the first time, sincerely imparted teachings to him were the Shaolin monks.

When he forged his Dharma Power—

So Shin-seung and the old monk Wonjong taught him about Buddhist principles.

For a short time, it had been pleasant. Those days when he pondered what kind of intention should be infused into refined internal energy to give it a divine quality.

Thanks to the discussions he had with the monks, Jeong Yeon-shin was able to build the foundation of his Radiant Dharma Wheel Technique.

A grandmaster of martial studies was said to be one who could fashion countless techniques while gazing at drifting clouds or reflecting on accumulated knowledge.

At the time, the Shaolin monks had been his great natural world.

Daoism was different.

What High Sword Immortal passed on to him was chivalry.

From Three Peaks Zhenren, he had uncovered the mysteries of the sword. Even if one were to call it an incomparably sublime skill, they would not be wrong.

There had been no bridge to imbue intention into his refined energy.

Ever since Dark Heaven Emperor spoke of Three Peaks Zhenren, Jeong Yeon-shin had been thinking about it.

And now, through battle, he had confirmed something—he had no decisive technique beyond Moon-Cutting Dance.

Not a single sword strike had so much as scratched the flood dragon’s scales.

So Jeong Yeon-shin contemplated. What kind of mindset had Three Peaks Zhenren employed to subdue an imminent dragon?

In the martial world, enlightenment meant discovering the perfect intent to infuse into one’s energy.

The external techniques of a skill were merely superficial. Only when the mind was refined in accordance with one’s martial path did a technique reach its full potential.

Even the most common Tai Chi manuals studied by common folk carried instructions such as, "Think of an unbroken cycle of the sun and moon when drawing a circle."

It was natural that the esoteric Tai Chi Sword of the Wudang Sect would be far more profound.

‘I know nothing of Wudang.’

He had never studied Daoist martial arts.

There was no knowledge within him that could conjure the imagery necessary to extract the martial essence of the Daoist sects.

The Great Tai Chi guiding him into Moon-Cutting Dance had been a realization of the heart rather than an understanding of Tai Chi Sword.

That was why, at this moment, the flowing force radiating from Jeong Yeon-shin’s grasp, which gently spread into spirals, making the river curl into eddies, was not an orthodox Daoist technique.

Even as a fierce wind drew massive whirlpools, rising in a white froth, it was the same. It lacked the profound aura of the Nine Great Sects.

To Dark Heaven Emperor, it would seem like a mere imitation.

A centuries-old skeletal figure formed of obsession would surely rage at such a thing.

And in truth, it was indeed an imitation.

The Tai Chi strike he had used once to reverse Heavenly Pole Lord’s slash had also been mere mimicry.

It had failed against the strongest sword strike of Foremost Heretical Sword at close range.

Dark Heaven Emperor’s Six Harmonies Transcendence erupted in a violent explosion, sending towering waves into the sky.

The walls of water roared as they blocked out the sunlight, and Jeong Yeon-shin let Pine Gate Sword slip from his waist.

It was a feint from the start.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Regardless of whether it suited his temperament, martial artists were generally prideful creatures—a single offhand remark could prick their ego like a thorn.

It was the weakness of warriors, who wielded their internal energy like a blade, without the temperance of wisdom.

As Jeong Yeon-shin rotated Thunder Cry, swinging it once in a wide arc before raising it high, the brilliance of Imperial Purple shimmered across his form.

He was standing upon the scales, which faintly reflected a bluish hue.

From the beginning, he had only one sword.

Upon the vast body of the flood dragon—

Even as he moved his blade, tension gripped him.

There was not much time left for even the supreme masters in this battlefield to maintain their unwavering composure.

Even if they seemed outwardly unaffected, he could feel it.

Their breath control was subtly but surely accelerating.

Yulha Nangnang, hidden within the clouds, was particularly so. In her exhalations, there was an urgency—a telltale sign of preparing an ultimate technique.

If one looked closely, a white mist may have been forming upon the edge of her slightly angled sword.

Even the aura of Abbot Beomheo, who had bound the flood dragon in place, no longer felt as composed.

Jeong Yeon-shin took a step toward Dark Heaven Emperor, whose arms were outstretched.

A mere thirty zhang away stood the ancient monster of Taemosan Fortress, its entire body composed of skeletal joints.

At its ghastly white fingertips, intangible energy rippled like woven threads.

And in that instant, dozens of strands of lightning began flowing like streams from the surrounding air.

The internal energy imbued within his sorcery was so vast and overwhelming that even the air itself warped under the pressure.

This time, there was no incantation or invocation.

Dark Heaven Emperor stomped his foot once, and the collected lightning streaks around him all surged forward at once—straight at the figure of deep violet racing toward him.

Electricity illuminated the dim riverside, tearing across the darkness in long arcs, yet the figure even more distorted by sheer velocity did not stop.

Only his sword lifted.

The river beneath rose up.

Following the trajectory of Thunder Cry, water sprayed upward, each droplet infused with sword energy, intercepting and slicing apart the approaching lightning bolts like thrown daggers.

A white mist erupted into the air.

Even before the thickened air could grow heavier, Dark Heaven Emperor tore through the veil of vapor, his eyes flaring with white brilliance, and murmured:

[With a sword, you... No, before that, how do you know the Tai Chi Sword? Who are you?]

Strictly speaking, it was merely a thought slipping out.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. Instead, he pressed his left hand against the abdomen of the Dark Heaven Emperor.

At that moment, following the perfection of Threefold Harmonization Energy, as soon as his will arose, it was as if the palm of the Azure Qilin overlapped his left hand, causing a thunderous roar to erupt.

His arm ached from the immense, surging power. The air, thick with fog-like humidity, trembled entirely.

Jeong Yeon-shin concentrated the force in his hand and drove it in using the Weighted Internal Force Technique. Even the distant, resounding thunder seemed to be forced into the attack.

There was no deafening explosion.

Instead, in an instant, the white robe crumbled into dust, exposing thick ribs. It felt as if hundreds of layers of protective energy had shattered at once.

And indeed, they had.

All the defensive barriers, dozens of techniques that formed them, and even the Dark Heaven Emperor’s internal protective energy that cut him off from the outside world—none of them required complex techniques to break.

The profound mysteries of Hwangang, which had accompanied Jeong Yeon-shin throughout his journey, were just as formidable.

From the very first step until this moment.

How many techniques had been deployed in a fleeting instant? How violently had his internal energy surged through every meridian in his body? It was an impossible feat without perfected Threefold Harmonization Energy. There was not even time to create a new technique suited for the situation as he usually would. The moment passed in an instant.

[As expected, you...]

The flames in the Dark Heaven Emperor’s eyes flickered and faded like candlelight as he met Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze. His previously unblemished bones crumbled into fine dust.

[You cannot replace Sambong...]

The words dissipated like smoke.

In the next moment, the Dark Heaven Emperor’s Primordial Spirit was completely extinguished. Amidst the dust-stained ground, only the scales of the Flood Dragon shimmered faintly in the dim light.

Perhaps it was the aftereffect of his final technique. Jeong Yeon-shin silently faced the transparent river breeze, but he did not sheath his sword.

“He will return soon.”

A deep, aged voice echoed from afar.

At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin activated the Ten-League Radiance Step, leaving behind a starlike afterimage before vanishing. In the next instant, he stood atop the vast forehead of the Flood Dragon, which stretched endlessly like an entire mountain range.

The surroundings were filled with thick mist, but an intense heat lingered in the air like a wandering fog. The Flood Dragon was, quite literally, a slumbering volcano.

“The Formless Manifestation has matured.”

Hearing the quiet admiration, he turned his head.

Abbot Beomheo sat cross-legged with his eyes closed. Jeong Yeon-shin cautiously spoke.

“As you said... It does not feel like the Dark Heaven Emperor is truly dead.”

“Of course not. Someone like you would sense it.”

“I noticed something missing in the true formation of the Tiger-Dragon Techniques—a core containing the Dark Heaven Emperor’s innate energy and soul. The Flood Dragon must have devoured it.”

“You are exactly right. The Dark Heaven Emperor forged a most wicked Primordial Spirit, and unless that core is destroyed, he will revive. It is only a matter of time.”

Even now, the old monk’s tone remained composed. Though the situation was anything but leisurely, Jeong Yeon-shin could not help but unconsciously compare him to his grandfather.

“I know you are straining yourself. The Dark Heaven Emperor referred to your technique as the Supreme Wisdom of Prajna. May I ask how much longer you can suppress this Flood Dragon?”

Abbot Beomheo smiled faintly.

“You were raised in a scholarly household, so you must know the saying: Haste makes waste.”

A lesson from Confucius, warning that rushing only leads to failure. Jeong Yeon-shin hesitated, then nodded.

“There are things the young Divine Sword of Ipwang Fortress should keep in mind.”

The old monk’s words carried a peculiar weight. As if now was the only time he could say them, yet Jeong Yeon-shin did not challenge that feeling. The affairs of the martial world were always unpredictable.

“The first concerns Wudang and Shaolin.”

“What do you mean...?”

“Do not feel burdened. Whatever monks and Taoists like us do, you owe us nothing. The same goes for what the Old Swordmaster has done.”

“The second concerns Empty Moon Martial Arts. If it is not impolite... may I ask what your grandfather taught you about that technique?”

Atop the Flood Dragon’s breath, where its exhalations turned the air white, the most esteemed master of the orthodox world and the young martial prodigy of Ipwang Fortress engaged in discourse.

The monk sat. The young man stood.

Yet the unexpected conversation unfolded as naturally as if it had always been meant to happen.

Such was the way of the greatest martial artists.

After all, no one could entirely sever the Flood Dragon’s body.

For now, they had been granted a temporary reprieve. But ultimately, unless the Dark Heaven Emperor, the master of the Tiger-Dragon Techniques, was truly killed, nothing would be resolved.

“My grandfather said... it was a technique that encompassed every martial art he had ever practiced.”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s response made Abbot Beomheo chuckle softly.

“How very fitting of Master Ma. Yes, that is not wrong. But this old monk sees it a little differently.”

“Empty Moon is not an immutable, predetermined ultimate technique. Because before martial arts, there is life. If a swordsman’s heart loses its killing intent, would his swordplay not change as well?”

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded quietly.

At that moment, a faint smile touched the old monk’s wrinkled lips.

“You are quite different from Master Ma. He would never have bothered trying to understand my words. Not that he needed to...”

There was laughter in his tone.

Jeong Yeon-shin had always respected the current Abbot [N O V E L I G H T] of Shaolin as a highly virtuous monk, but his admiration deepened even further.

“In any case, you are not bound by rigid codes of honor. You can change the direction of your life endlessly. Every experience will become a part of you, shaping you. So there is no need to predefine Empty Moon Martial Arts into a fixed form. Do you understand what I mean?”

Abbot Beomheo’s quiet question erased the smile from his lips.

The intermittent rumbling of the Flood Dragon’s body deepened.

The heavy silence felt like a moment in history, as if they had spoken of something that would be remembered in the annals of the martial world.

It felt like the final wisdom passed from a dying master to his chosen disciple.

Jeong Yeon-shin immediately spoke.

“You mean that only novices prepare just one means of survival?”

“...You understand well.”

Abbot Beomheo answered.