Chapter 505: Chapter 505

The battlefield was quite literally a sea of corpses and blood.

Between the piled bodies of men and horses, which formed a shallow valley, dark red blood trickled down, seeping into the ground.

The lingering aftermath of sound-based martial arts.

The stench of the slain heretical martial artists thickened, mixing with the dry winter sunlight that cast a pale glow over the faces of the dead. In death, they looked almost transparent.

The heavy sound of hooves. The sole surviving commander of Greenwood Cavalry, crossing over Jeong Yeon-shin and Ak Su-rim, slightly turned his horse's head.

Then, tilting his head just a bit to the side, he looked down at Jeong Yeon-shin at an angle.

"Where in the world is there such a thing as this?"

The Taebaek King, the Lord of Steel Rivers, began speaking slowly. His voice was low, carrying a strangely relaxed yet nonchalant tone.

"You wouldn't know. The sheer amount of time, effort, and resources that go into assembling a cavalry force of this scale is beyond comprehension. At the very least, a single melody from a blade shouldn't be enough to shatter it."

Indeed, at this very moment, the southern battlefield near the front gate of Ipwang Fortress was eerily silent.

Not only had the vagabonds who sold their sword skills for money frozen in place, but even many of the Thirteen Heavens martial masters had retreated far back, scanning the sea of bodies in horrified disbelief.

Only a handful flung themselves in different directions, trying in vain to reassemble their formations.

On the other hand, the true experts of the fortress remained in place, steadying their breathing or engaging in internal energy circulation.

As if something absolute was standing right beside them, watching over them. Not a single one of them dared to make a reckless move atop the fortress walls.

Even those who had never personally seen Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin before, due to being too busy fulfilling their tasks, did the same.

A trust in hierarchy.

It was an apt description of blind faith. Those who had spent their lives within the walls of Ipwang Fortress since childhood embodied it even more deeply.

Throughout history, every generation of Purple-ranked warriors had always surpassed the expectations of the fortress's top martial artists.

Shin Cheonhwa, Ma Yeon-jeok, Shin Byeok, Yong Hui-myeong.

All of them were legends in the world of martial arts. They were like the ever-repeating miracle of the sunset blooming and fading over Yangyang.

The warhorse of the Greenwood Cavalry's commander, the only one left alive, let out a low whinny. The beast's breath, steaming in the cold air, escaped in short bursts—whether from fear or from battle-hardened instincts was unclear.

The warhorse’s eyes were filled with a dull, colorless glow, and yet it avoided looking directly at Jeong Yeon-shin.

The commander himself, seated atop the warhorse, quietly studied Jeong Yeon-shin before suddenly letting out a small chuckle.

"Sir Jeong has quite an eye."

"That axe you used and discarded—that was Strong Jade Axe... It belonged to my son. The famed black iron was mixed into it, crafted by a well-known nomadic blacksmith from the northern regions. Quite the treasured weapon."

His voice carried on in an indifferent tone.

"It was scattered, just as the lives of our warriors were scattered—fleeting and futile. But I suppose it served its purpose well enough... so that should be enough."

The implication was clear—among the men Jeong Yeon-shin had just killed, his son had been one of them. And yet, his tone remained as casual as if he were merely discussing the loss of an ordinary subordinate.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not respond.

A white breath escaped his lips.

It was the exhalation of martial breathing technique.

At this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was inhaling and exhaling through the Radiant Wheel Qi Method, cooling the energy coursing through his Baihui acupoint. Naturally, it was due to the backlash of Geomga.

The technique had now fully evolved into the ultimate weapon of the War of Sects. The more its power was heightened, the harder it became to use recklessly.

Especially after an attack like the one he had just executed—one so overwhelming that it had obliterated an entire cavalry charge of martial artists in a single instant.

The commander had lost the subordinates who had jointly unleashed Heaven-Shattering Cavalry Charge, while Jeong Yeon-shin, in killing them all at once, had placed an enormous strain upon his upper energy center.

The commander, who had been watching him, suddenly smiled.

"You breathe in a way that is... quite unlike a person. Then again, with that frame of yours... strictly speaking, there is nothing human about you, is there? Seeing it in person, it’s truly unsettling."

He spoke as if gauging Jeong Yeon-shin's physical condition and weaknesses.

Not the words of a man who had just suffered a great loss. Was it because, throughout the world, there were always bandits waiting to take the place of fallen subordinates?

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his mouth.

This man had tried to trample Ipwang Fortress with cavalry and martial arts. There was no reason to return his courtesy.

"Turn around and face me completely."

But it was not the commander who responded first.

Behind Jeong Yeon-shin, a middle-aged man and woman, both gripping axes and spears, widened their eyes in shock. They were among the top martial artists who had survived Geomga.

"No matter how high your rank, there is still etiquette to be observed! That man is...!"

Their demeanor was akin to that of hardened military officers.

The way their voices dropped in pitch at the end of their words hinted at a northern dialect influence, yet the sheer strength in their tone made their speech feel as sharp and disciplined as a blade.

They were not mere bandits by birth.

There was undoubtedly a deep story behind their decision to side with the Greenwood Cavalry, but Jeong Yeon-shin merely muttered briefly.

"The underlings dare to speak."

The commander offered a polite bow.

He remained slightly turned to the side atop his warhorse.

Because of this, the backs of the severed heads hanging from his waist were partially visible, though their exact features were obscured.

Meanwhile, the warhorse—an almost supernatural beast—suddenly exhaled, and its breath merged with the commander's own in a stream of white mist.

It was a phenomenon resembling the powerful energy waves of a high-level martial formation, amplifying the Qi of both horse and rider. A special cavalry martial technique was being activated.

Just like Jeong Yeon-shin, the commander was preparing to attack.

Despite his keen martial instincts, he had spent the last few moments spinning tales like an academy scholar, deliberately stretching the conversation.

Naturally, this meant his next move would not be an ordinary strike.

At that moment, across the battlefield, voices erupted as though to announce the start of a grand clash.

[He is the only Purple-Rank among them!]

"[Detour! Head toward Haeil Kwoncheon! We can reach it before Yeonhwa Nata does!]"

Hundreds had already died, yet hundreds more still remained, breathing steadily with their internal energy as they stood on both sides of the fortress walls.

Had the northern front not collapsed, the imperial army would have mobilized under the pretense of hunting down traitors. But at this moment, the warriors of Ipwang Fortress had to face this battle alone.

The enemies of Ipwang Fortress were overwhelming in number.

Some dashed past Jeong Yeon-shin, leaping over the fortress walls in an attempt to avoid him. Clothes billowed violently, and the impact waves of Step Techniques exploded from every direction.

The battlefield had begun to move once again.

The opposition had already witnessed the deputy leader of the Divine Sword Corps play his biggest hand.

There was no way the elite martial artists of the great sects, each among the strongest in the world, wouldn't have already devised a countermeasure.

They did not approach him.

Instead, as other members of the Thirteen Heavens engaged Jeong Yeon-shin, they maneuvered around him as much as possible.

No matter how overwhelming he was, a single strike alone would not be enough to suppress them all.

Since the deputy leader of the Divine Sword Corps wielded absurd, large-scale techniques, the moment the plaque of Ipwang Fortress fell, the ripple effects across the martial world would be immeasurable.

"Now that I think about it, the Ak Clan has been struck by misfortune repeatedly."

The cavalry commander suddenly spoke as if something had come to mind. This time, his words were directed at Ak Su-rim, who stood beside Jeong Yeon-shin.

"If I recall correctly, your previous family head suffered misfortune at Hwasan Medicine Valley and entered seclusion in despair. The current family head inherited the position not long ago... Wuju Spear Severance, Ak Dae-gyeong. He's supposed to be the eldest nephew of Shin Chang, is he not?"

"A tragic thing. My deepest condolences."

With that, he brought both hands together in front of him in a formal bow.

It was a highly respectful martial salute, but unlike the traditional fist-over-palm bow of martial artists, he even slightly lowered his head—almost like the etiquette of a scholar.

The moment Ak Su-rim saw his demeanor, her expression vanished entirely.

It was a look that Jeong Yeon-shin had never seen before.

From her perspective, Jeong Yeon-shin had disappeared from her vision, leaving only the cavalry commander, the Lord of Steel Rivers.

"He was not at fault. He was simply swept away by the tide of the times."

With a sudden flick of his hand, his axe came down, splitting the dust on the battlefield like waves parting to the left and right.

It seemed he had been focusing his internal energy while speaking, a testament to his mastery over Three Harmonies Qi Concentration.

At some point, space itself had begun to distort around both him and his warhorse—a clear sign that he was preparing to strike.

"In times of chaos, disaster falls like an avalanche, sparing neither villain nor saint, ruler nor commoner, noble warrior nor lowly bandit.

"A useless bandit like myself needed the heads of noble family leaders. I had to make my name known as quickly as possible."

"Didn't I tell you to attack?"

Ak Su-rim muttered coldly.

Yet at this moment, she was no longer the legendary spearwoman whose name echoed across the martial world.

She stood unarmed, without even drawing the short spear she carried at her waist.

Earlier, she had thrown her spear to help clear Jeong Yeon-shin’s path.

Even in peak condition, the Lord of Steel Rivers would be an opponent far beyond what she could handle, let alone in her current state.

Yet even now, Ak Su-rim did not draw her backup spear.

She simply took a step forward, her small face void of expression.

Her jet-black sleeve fluttered precariously.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A brilliant white light sliced through the air, brushing past Jeong Yeon-shin's hand before flipping in midair and being sucked into Ak Su-rim's grip.

It was the very same long spear she had thrown earlier—now returned to her by Jeong Yeon-shin’s Ten Thousand Blossoms Returning Art.

For the first time since the commander mentioned the Ak Clan, Ak Su-rim's gaze flickered toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

But he was still looking only at the commander's waist.

"I told you to turn around properly."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.

By now, his breathing had become completely calm.

A small, amused curve formed at the corner of the cavalry commander’s lips.

"Could you wait just a little longer? I'm not quite finished preparing.

"You see, once a cavalry charge halts, it's usually the end.

"But either way, this entire operation is something Yeoryeongju has been preparing for a long time.

"It was built on the premise of a prolonged siege.

"Even while you clash with us here, your enemies will keep pouring in.

"They are the enemies Ipwang Fortress has accumulated over countless years."

The Grand Commander turned slowly with his warhorse. Even as he finally faced Jeong Yeon-shin directly, he continued speaking at a deliberate pace.

"Don't expect this to end quickly. I can guarantee that this battle will drag on endlessly like a monsoon rain. The weight of the grudges that Ipwang Fortress has built while upholding order in the world is immense. We have countless reinforcements, while you... you are your only reinforcement, aren't you?"

Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent. Shortly after, Ak Su-rim also came to a halt.

The faces bound to the waist of the Grand Commander, their features either strikingly noble or wrapped in bandages, were now finally facing the main road of the fortress gate.

So Yeon, the Great Commander. Myeongryu, the Great Elder.

"They fought with everything they had. You, the Prodigy of Ipwang Fortress, must not blame them," the Grand Commander said.

"We grieve for them," echoed the elite warriors of the Green Demon Cavalry standing behind him.

Jeong «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» Yeon-shin and Ak Su-rim stood amidst a sea of corpses, surrounded from both the front and rear by the Grand Commander and his forces.

A deafening explosion.

A massive figure crashed into the ground with enough force to send dust and debris flying. In his hands, he threw aside two figures with brutal force.

The first was a middle-aged warrior with a prosthetic leg, who tumbled backward before kneeling with one leg down. The second was a tall, gaunt swordsman who slammed into the ground, carving a deep trench into the earth.

They were the Supreme Commander of Mugeuk and the Commander of the Sky Spear Division.

"Commander Jeong...!"

The Supreme Commander of Mugeuk snapped his head up, only to fall silent at the sight of So Yeon's severed head. Meanwhile, the Commander of the Sky Spear Division struggled to rise, his body barely able to support him.

His condition made him appear already dead, his pulse so faint it was barely perceptible.

The Lord of Storm Dragons, Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol, clicked his tongue as he spoke.

"Mugeuk, or should I say Supreme Commander of Mugeuk? You certainly have a talent for capturing people. They say Mugeuk’s swordplay rivals the Blade Arts of Ipwang Fortress, and it seems they weren’t exaggerating."

"Oh, Prodigy of Ipwang Fortress. It's been a while, hasn't it? I must say, that was quite something earlier. To use sword techniques to create such refined sound arts? Your mastery of internal energy techniques is practically divine. Next time, let me experience it firsthand, will you? I imagine it would be quite the thrill. You'll have to stand in for Yong Hui-myeong now, won't you?"

His tone was disturbingly casual.

The leader of the Muryong Association revealed his notorious madness with an air of ease, and his arrival was proof that the world’s greatest warriors had gathered in Yangyang.

Yet none of the elite warriors of Ipwang Fortress responded to his words.

Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol clicked his tongue again. Their gazes were all locked on the Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry.

"Well, it's not like we're the only ones who lost people today. It’s a shame, truly, but when striving for the pinnacle of martial arts, what need is there for insignificant human lives—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

In the young prodigy’s eyes, a brilliant azure-white light flickered, like a blade flashing in the night.

His irises had completely reversed. He was not in his right mind.

A faint, ominous vibration accompanied the erratic, diagonal movements of his glowing pupils. As his gaze cut through the battlefield, trails of luminous afterimages followed, leaving an eerie impression of endless slaughter.

Countless thoughts and impressions surged into Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind, flowing like a river of memories.

At that moment, the fingers of his outstretched hand curled slightly, summoning a swirling mass of wind—an ethereal storm that expanded behind him.

A Thousand Blossoms in the Rain.

Inside his mind, he merged fragmented incantations at a feverish pace.

He had seen enough of the martial world.

There was no longer anything new to learn; everything was already etched into his consciousness.

All that remained was to manifest a heart worthy of his technique.

"Perfection. Outsiders."

Axes, spears, swords—every weapon abandoned by their fallen owners.

Hundreds of blades that had once littered the battlefield like gravestones now floated into the air, shedding dust as they ascended.

Just like the Eighteen Weapon Techniques once boasted by the Lord of Ten Gates in Sichuan.

Just like the Sea of Swords summoned by the Master of Celestial Extremes with a single step upon the clouds.

At that moment, the Grand Commander and his elite cavalrymen saw the exact same vision before them.

The young prodigy in his dark crimson robe stood with an ocean of floating weapons at his back. His voice, devoid of emotion, rang through the battlefield.

The Acting Commander of the Divine Sword Sect declared:

"The martial world dies today."

Thus began the Battle of Ipwang Fortress.