Chapter 503: Chapter 503

It was someone’s gaze.

Ma Se-in had long honed his sensory perception through the Jeong Family's Internal Cultivation Technique. It was impossible for him to dismiss such a peculiar sensation as mere illusion.

Even the top martial artists who had been locked in combat on the mountain path had come to a halt.

Only the sound of the wind, carrying the remnants of a barren winter and brushing against the skeletal branches, echoed emptily through the air.

But Ma Se-in forcefully ignored the suffocating sensation gripping his entire body and pulled at Hong Jugeom’s arm.

Moving his body wasn’t difficult. Strangely, the gaze that had plunged down from an unfathomable height did not feel unfamiliar to him. There was no killing intent. At least, that was how it seemed to him.

He started running again.

At the same time, the immense presence that had devoured the sky vanished. It left behind only a faint trace of a familiar intent in Ma Se-in’s mind.

―I’m in seclusion. Sorry, just hold on for a little while.

He pinpointed the location.

That was how the final message ended.

It had clearly been transmitted telepathically.

A deeply unsettling feeling.

There was no way to gauge just how far it had traveled to reach him. If the Abbot of Shaolin had borrowed the power of a divine treasure to send an Enlightened Mind Transmission, would it have felt the same?

Ma Se-in’s expression eased as he resumed his sprint.

He was prepared to die here. That was the duty of a family that had served under Ipwang Fortress for generations.

He had no way of knowing what kind of technique the True Master was currently cultivating. No matter the circumstances, the only thing that mattered was the fact that Jeong Yeon-shin had entered seclusion.

He had shut himself away.

It would take a long time.

That was for the best.

How many of the Thirteen Celestial Lords had set foot in Yangyang today?

Jeong Yeon-shin must not come here. Beyond his responsibilities as the Young Lord of the Ipwang Demon Family, even Ma Se-in’s personal feelings dictated the same. Instead, he had another expectation.

If a being of limitless, peerless talent were to emerge from prolonged seclusion—

What kind of presence would the martial world witness then?

There was no need to even consider it.

Ipwang Fortress would once again reign as the oppressor of the martial world, and the suffering of commoners at the hands of demonic sects and outlaws would drastically decrease.

That was why Ma Se-in’s rapid movement accelerated even further at that moment.

Meanwhile, Hong Jugeom only struck the ground alongside him, casting a look of puzzlement.

The intent that had descended from the void had reached only one person, but Ma Se-in had no time to explain.

A single exclamation spread low, like the creeping twilight. It was directed precisely at Ma Se-in.

“There’s no need to send a challenge document anymore.”

A voice, rich with amusement, fell from the heavens.

A truly colossal presence.

At some point, the Great Guardian of Murong Sect and the two Grand Masters of Ipwang Fortress had been locked in a confrontation—and now, at the very center of it, stood an intruder.

As if a great mountain had suddenly broken through the clouds.

Ma Se-in knew immediately.

That middle-aged man—he had discerned the presence of the telepathic message.

It was an ability reserved only for the absolute masters of the martial world, those who could command the natural energies of heaven and earth as if they were mere servants.

As the heir of the Ipwang Demon Family, Ma Se-in had once heard of such a thing from the Unrivaled Demon Lord, Ma Yeon-jeok.

Among the vagabonds who roamed the martial world, freely traversing the roads without paying even a grain of rice as toll, there were a select few who possessed a most wicked enlightenment—the ability to steal another’s secrets.

‘To eavesdrop on a telepathic message... Could he have understood the entire content as well?’

Without looking back, Ma Se-in continued running.

And then he felt it with his entire being. A sudden heaviness in the atmosphere. It was as if the ground itself was sinking into deep water.

His limbs, which had been slicing through the air with the power of the Unified Flower Divine Technique, suddenly became unbearably heavy. The once-dry earth beneath his feet turned soft, sucking at his step like a bog.

Murong Sect’s leader had merely exhaled a single pulse of energy, and this was the result. Even though Ma Se-in’s internal energy had the distinct, refined stability of the Jeong Family’s Internal Cultivation Technique.

‘Just by circulating his energy, he’s suppressing my own inner workings...?!’

Ma Se-in had not been able to perceive it properly.

It was just that, in that suffocating moment when the entire world seemed to slow—

With a deafening roar, he belatedly realized that a storm had already passed overhead.

[Great Guardian, this is no time to be playing with brats. It’s time—come with me! Now, let’s go and crush Ipwang Fortress!]

Immediately after those words, Murong Sect’s leader, Hyeokryeon Pungwol, let out a booming laugh that whipped through the surroundings like a typhoon.

The suffocating wind pressure shredded through the dense dust in an instant.

Cracks split the ground, carving jagged paths through the mountain road with violent force.

The aftermath of an aerial step.

Like a comet, Murong Sect’s leader soared through the sky toward Ipwang Fortress.

[Sturdy indeed! Even the Divine Sword Sect has some fellows with a real knack for defensive formations!]

Somewhere along the way, the Great Azure Master and the Supreme Warlord of Murong Sect had been caught in his massive hands, their heads gripped tightly as they clashed against the raging winds.

The rebounding force from their formidable internal defenses sent sparks flying, scattering in trails of crimson light.

They were clad in black.

Even after allowing a fatal strike from Murong Sect’s leader, their heads did not burst open immediately.

On the contrary, a bluish sword aura continuously extended from the Azure Sky Grandmaster’s sword, grinding against Hyeokryeon Pungwol’s shoulder, while the Supreme Warlord’s pitch-black prosthetic leg struck his temple again and again, unleashing massive shockwaves.

However, the protective energy surrounding him was like diamond—it did not shatter but only roared with impact.

[Excellent! Let’s take this all the way!]

Hyeokryeon Pungwol’s hearty shout scattered like an echo.

“You brats of Ipwang Fortress, one day I’ll come to inspect the techniques you’ve refined, so do not die.”

The Great Guardian of Murong Sect, Beoncheon-no, laughed loudly as he crossed his arms behind his back. With a single step off a thin tree branch, he shot through the air like an arrow, following after Hyeokryeon Pungwol.

“The direction is exactly south. For Ipwang Fortress, that would be the main gate... That battlefield belongs to Murong Sect now.”

Hwayeonbi stepped forward, blocking Ma Se-in’s path with a relaxed posture.

A light step upon the ground.

She was accompanied by the man in white who had followed her earlier, but neither of them exuded outright hostility—perhaps due to the Murong Sect leader’s command. Both of them remained composed.

For them, Hyeokryeon Pungwol’s words were absolute law.

“Murong Sect claims dominion over the battlefield?”

Ma Se-in quietly repeated her words, simultaneously taking a cooperative attack formation with Hong Jugeom.

With a three-step gap between them, both raised their swords in a mid-stance, aiming directly at Hwayeonbi and the man in white.

At that, Hwayeonbi smiled faintly.

“A great number of like-minded individuals have delved deeply into countless martial arts, exchanging teachings with one another. The warriors of our sect who have entered this battle are stronger than any other masters. The upper dantian of Murong Sect’s warriors absorbs any variable with fluid adaptability, instantly countering their opponents' movements.”

Ma Se-in did not smile. He simply responded in a flat tone.

“Sounds strangely familiar.”

“Is that something you trained in? No, it’s more accurate to say it happened naturally because of Murong Sect’s way of cultivation. It’s not innate—it was developed afterward.”

At his words, Hwayeonbi tilted her head slightly.

The tone was peculiar enough to warrant curiosity, but she did not press the matter. Instead, still wearing a faint smile, she spoke.

“You’re right, Young Lord Ma. Moreover, this battle allows us to observe a great number of Ipwang Fortress’s martial techniques in one place. That is the reason our sect accepted Yeo Ryeong’s proposal for an alliance. At this moment, your forces do not have many warriors capable of handling even our Great Guardian, let alone our sect leader.”

“So you want to steal food from starving peasants more freely. And since your only obstacle is Ipwang Fortress, you’re taking advantage of the chaos to wipe us out in advance.”

“That’s how we carve a grand mark upon the world through the pinnacle of martial arts. The most sacred challenge in all under heaven. Of course, the bandits, water rogues, and tricksters gathered here seem only interested in taking over Yangyang.”

She dismissed the other great sects allied with Murong Sect in a single breath. Their goals were simply too different.

Indeed, the Thirteen Celestial Lords of the unorthodox sects were inherently incapable of forming deep bonds with one another. And yet, the scheme Yeo Ryeong had devised—the ‘Extermination of Ipwang Fortress’—had already cast an invisible storm cloud over Yangyang.

It was more malicious and meticulous than any shadowy assassination technique.

“The same worthless insects—just different excuses.”

At his words, Ma Se-in tapped the ground lightly with the tip of his foot. Preparing to use his movement technique.

“We need to check on the fortress first. We must keep these two at bay the entire time... That should be possible, right?”

Ma Se-in felt the heavy weight of responsibility. He was the only one aware that Jeong Yeon-shin had entered seclusion.

He had to deliver this news to the fortress, where the youngest prodigy in history was waiting. He had to ensure that the warriors who would soon perish in scattered battles carried honor rather than false hope.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

At that moment, Hwayeonbi interjected with amusement.

“Do you really think you can? The Seomye Martial Pulse is remarkably strong in single strikes, but it drains too much energy, making it weak in prolonged battles. It’s too refined to be called an unorthodox technique, yet too explosive to be considered a righteous one... To overcome that, you’d have to master the Radiant Harmony Technique, which allows warriors to support each other in battle. But isn’t that a skill only Ma Gwang-ik has ever trained in? Not many have even seen it in this vast world.”

She was reiterating a well-known weakness, stating it as if it were new. The response came from Hong Jugeom.

“Murong Sect is a sect of records. We carry vast amounts of knowledge in our minds and embody it through our actions.”

Suddenly, a faint ripple of light began to shimmer along the blade of the middle-aged master in blue robes. His legs stirred up a rough wind as if he were about to sprint toward Ipwang Fortress at any moment.

Hong Jugeom slowly finished his words.

“Which warrior in the martial world has ever lasted long enough to fight a prolonged battle against the Seomye Martial Pulse?”

Hwayeonbi could not answer immediately.

A vast stretch of white marble walls spread below them.

“Lord, look over there. It’s already begun.”

An aged voice was carried away by the raging storm. It was Beoncheon-no, leisurely following behind the Murong Sect leader with his hands clasped behind his back.

Hyeokryeon Pungwol, who was soaring through the sky with the heads of two black-robed warriors from the Divine Sword Brigade clutched in his massive hands, burst into laughter.

“What a magnificent sight!”

The main gate of Ipwang Fortress.

It had already become the battlefield of the greatest stars in the martial world.

All kinds of shockwaves shredded the air, exploding with an impact even more violent than thunder.

Shattered fragments of marble flew in all directions, while warriors from the Thirteen Celestial Lords scaled the fortress walls vertically.

Above them, arrows infused with martial techniques, palm strikes, and fist-force shockwaves rained down like a storm, clashing against the invading hands. Each time they struck, the ground trembled violently.

The warriors of Ipwang Fortress showed no emotion as they struck. Every technique was a precise killing move.

It was like severing rotten branches—executing what must be cut down. Their facial muscles moved only when exerting force.

There were no other sounds. Only the deafening roar of battle.

A grand battle among the greatest martial artists.

It was a war in all but name, yet no one shouted tactical commands loud enough for the enemy to hear. This battlefield was fought in silence, with only masters skilled in transmitting messages through inner force.

In the midst of it, one master of the Murong Sect finally reached the top of the wall—only for thin, unseen sword winds to coil around him like threads and silently shred his body apart.

His blood-soaked remains splattered onto the ground. The swordmasters of the Azure Sky Brigade stepped away, shifting positions while unleashing powerful energy ripples.

Immediately, twenty massive warriors took their place. They were the blue and white warriors of the Celestial Forest Division of the Divine Sword Brigade.

“Lord, what do we do about the other leaders?”

Beoncheon-no, watching the battle unfold, suddenly asked. But Hyeokryeon Pungwol was already plummeting far away, still gripping the two masters he had seized. His descent was accompanied by resounding laughter.

The grandmaster of the never-before-seen supreme technique Great Sun’s Void-Controlling Energy was that free-spirited.

Beoncheon-no shook his head.

He muttered while standing in midair, his senses stretching across the battlefield.

The four sides of Ipwang Fortress had all become battlegrounds.

The south, where the main gate stood, was already swarming with the Murong Sect, their affiliated clans, and the elite mercenaries Yeo Ryeong had bought with money.

‘The north is where the lord of Ipwang Fortress resides. The formations there are too strong, so we didn’t attempt entry...’

The western walls had long since been blown away entirely by a single strike from the Tidal Fist Heaven of the Ten Thousand Streams Stronghold Lord.

A supreme master who had lain dormant for a long time had suddenly taken control of the region’s water flows. At this moment, the sky, which had been shedding winter sunlight, was distorted like the heat haze of midsummer.

It was all due to the immense heat energy that the Tidal Fist Heaven held in his grasp.

In contrast, the eastern battlefield was eerily silent. That was where the Dreaming Moon Lord was supposed to attack, yet it seemed as though no battle had begun.

Beoncheon-no’s body abruptly dropped.

This was not the end of Ipwang Fortress.

At this very moment, the elite warriors of Murong Sect, Yeo Ryeong, and the Dreaming Moon Sect were already clashing with the fortress’s great masters across multiple locations.

Some were being completely overwhelmed, for many different reasons—differences in personal skill, or unexpected tactics and formations that exceeded imagination.

Casualties could be severe.

Beoncheon-no was in charge of taking the main gate. Bringing down the signboard of Ipwang Fortress. He had to exert greater influence than the unruly clan leaders.

A vast army of mounted warriors surged forward, leaving a thick cloud of dust in their wake, aiming to break into the fortress in a single rush.

‘The Army of the Green Forest arrived on time...’

Beoncheon-no’s gaze turned toward the center of the main gate.

There, a single person stood.

A lone figure stood with a silver spear planted in the ground, staring at the advancing Green Forest Army. The black robes draping her small frame fluttered ceaselessly in the strong winds, their faded fabric glimmering in muted gray tones.

She was diminutive compared to the battlefield. Even her short, cropped hair was an anomaly.

The First Black of Ipwang Fortress had finished preparing to face the cavalry martial arts of the Green Forest Army alone.

The energy stored in her spear was so dense that the dust around her swirled outward in circular waves.

Beoncheon-no landed heavily, cracking the ground beneath him. He blocked her path, his gaze locking onto her pitch-black eyes.

“Aksurim, do you wish to die so meaninglessly? Step aside. They must reach the lord’s chambers. If you resist, you will be crushed.”

Beoncheon-no immediately abandoned persuasion. The instincts of an old master told him that Aksurim had made up her mind.

There was no need for further words. She had to be removed.

“A fool who threw away her rightful family inheritance and entered the imperial fold—a coward beyond compare.”

Behind him, the approaching dust cloud expanded dramatically.

The Green Forest Army—which had already massacred several powerful martial clans—was about to arrive.

The tremors in the earth grew louder, their force swelling like an earthquake. Dense clouds of brown dust wrapped around the battlefield, growing thicker.

It was the harbinger of the Green Forest Army’s charge.

A natural disaster created by martial arts was upon them.

Energy swirled in Beoncheon-no’s palm.

The sheer force of his attack parted the dust storm, lifting his yellow robes in rippling waves. With one strike, he would send her flying.

At that moment, Aksurim also pulled her spear from the ground.

“This is the martial world.”

He uttered briefly and inhaled.

Suddenly, a faint white line appeared across Beoncheon-no’s throat.

A moment later, the space along that line split open.

His head and torso were severed.

The severed head rolled onto the ground, landing beside a tattered leather shoe.

A foot stepped on it.

And with a grotesque squelch, the old master’s head burst apart.