Chapter 506: Chapter 506

A place where the most bizarre and otherworldly techniques exist, where secret incantations are often born from unthinkable ideas.

Most of the supreme martial arts, known as Divine Techniques, embody a sense of grandeur and madness that equates the martial artist with nature itself.

Many seek to transcend human limitations and reach the pinnacle of martial prowess.

Just as some Taoist zealots worship superstition, offering human sacrifices or forsaking food in pursuit of immortality, so too do martial artists equate the Way (Dao) with the ultimate peak of combat.

To tread upon the highest realm of human existence—

To seize power that no ordinary mortal can claim—

It is an obsession that devours countless warriors.

Even after the Silver River within the tomb of the First Emperor had dried up at the mere touch of So Cheonmujuk's fingertip, that same unrelenting pursuit continued to flow through history.

The supreme warriors of the Thirteen Heavens, who had ravaged Yangyang in recent years, were no exception.

The moment they witnessed The Destruction of the Wilds, the display of divine technique, hundreds of them instinctively took a step back, yet their gazes shone with a muted intensity.

The Lord of Storm Dragons and the Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry Taebaek Bu-wang had now encircled Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Brutal. Did he just say the martial world will die?”

A female swordsman from Hwangsam, perched vertically along the fortress wall, muttered while crossing her arms.

The image of Jeong Yeon-shin, standing amidst a cloud of floating weapons, was reflected in the eyes of countless warriors, young and old.

"What kind of technique is this? How many layers of mastery did he weave into one move?"

"He’s aiming for the pinnacle, just like the Lord of Storm Dragons."

"Nine, twelve, eighteen... No, thirty-six. Every weapon moves in a unique direction... How is a human upper energy center capable of such a feat?"

The murmurs of Muryong Association warriors filled the air, while the warriors of Ipwang Fortress, clad in black, green, and white, paused in their attacks.

For a moment, they followed the young prodigy’s gaze—

Until their eyes froze upon the severed heads of their fallen commanders—

And then slowly returned to him.

It was the heart of a bitter winter.

A cold wind, sharper than any that had ever blown through Yangyang, slithered through the swarm of weapons. The chilling breeze carried a splitting, groaning noise, like the earth itself was fracturing.

The turbulent energy clashing with the cold air created an eerie hum that shrouded the battlefield.

All the while, the fortress walls trembled with bursts of transmitted messages—

—Is this really the Thousand Blossoms in the Rain? No, could it be that guy’s Celestial Sword Sea? I can’t tell if this is from the Grand Moon School or not.

—Lord of Storm Dragons! Capture that prodigy for us! We must experience this firsthand!

—Give us a chance too!

Dozens of figures kicked off the dry earth, fortress walls, and even the thin branches of trees.

Warriors from all directions surged forward, kicking through the frost-covered ground, leaving behind swirling bursts of white mist.

A tide of madmen charged toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

Most of them belonged to the Muryong Association—a congregation of lunatics.

Their forms twisted midair, some flipping upside-down while others shot forward in straight lines like arrows. Each carried a distinct martial style.

The Fluid Flow Steps of the fallen Gongsun Clan, the Celestial Mountain Reversal from the annihilated Zhuge Sect, solitary martial arts passed down through generations, and even traditional techniques from the old orthodox schools.

A few warriors had already closed the distance, stepping lightly as they unleashed their sword techniques.

A footwork technique derived from the Endless Steps of the Namgung Clan.

The moment the air was pressed down by their rapid approach, it felt eerily similar to The Emperor’s Sword Form.

The very atmosphere around them warped under the force of their movements.

It was the strategy prepared in advance by the Sword Sect. By fully activating their internal energy circulation beforehand, they had preemptively increased their reaction speed to evade any devastating counters.

And it wasn’t just the Muryong Association.

Some warriors had abandoned the idea of a direct attack, choosing instead to keep their distance, launching half-transparent sword waves and arrows of energy at him.

All because of what they had just witnessed—

Jeong Yeon-shin’s technique had reminded them of legendary martial arts, the kind that stood at the peak of the world.

A single thought plagued them—

If my martial art clashes against his, what would happen?

A gambler’s spirit burned within them.

A reckless curiosity unfit for a battlefield.

Thus, before the blood-soaked gates of Ipwang Fortress, Jeong Yeon-shin stood alone against the entirety of the martial world.

The floating weapons of the Thousand Blossoms in the Rain shimmered as they encircled him—

And with an expressionless face, Jeong Yeon-shin lifted a single finger.

Just before four swordsmen from the Namgung Clan could strike him down with their supreme techniques—

Axe blades buried themselves into their abdomens.

Despite their perfect execution of Endless Steps, despite their seemingly flawless evasion—

It was a movement beyond belief.

Blue veins pulsed across Jeong Yeon-shin’s wrist, surging with power.

The axes trembled violently—

Then, as if possessed by an unseen force—

They tore through the swordsmen's torsos, sending their upper halves flying into the sky.

A brutal symphony of shattered ribs.

Like an upturned waterfall, blood and shattered bones erupted into the air.

And that was only the beginning.

Dozens more warriors charged forth—

Their unwavering movements carried the unshakable confidence of true masters.

Then, a single measured step rang through the battlefield.

The Lord of Storm Dragons, Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol, took a relaxed step forward—

Closing the distance to just ten paces from Jeong Yeon-shin.

The young prodigy’s counterattacks would now be sealed off, and this space of floating weapons would soon become nothing more than an arena for warriors to indulge in their duels.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s dark eyes remained fixated on the severed heads of his fallen comrades.

"Commander Jeong, maintain your composure—!"

A shadow descended from above, a prosthetic leg slamming down from the sky.

But before it could reach its target—

It was intercepted by a thick, muscular forearm.

A devastating shockwave tore through the battlefield, clawing trenches into the ground.

It was the Supreme Commander of Mugeuk.

A man among the highest ranks of the Martial Grand Alliance, one with a mastery of martial arts rivaling even the greatest.

Rage alone does not make a warrior stronger.

Only the foolish are consumed by emotion.

True terror lies in the cold, calculated precision of a master’s technique.

Unless one practiced a demonic art that thrives on madness, no martial technique ever grew stronger from sheer anger alone.

Beneath the Lord of Storm Dragons’ raised arm, a faint smirk crept onto his lips.

Drops of blood rained down.

Like a storm cloud that had been holding back its deluge, it finally burst open.

A grotesque, crimson mist filled the air.

The warriors who had rushed toward Jeong Yeon-shin had vanished.

Not even their corpses remained.

The faint sunlight of winter reflected against the floating shards of bone, scattering its light—

And the remnants of their flesh were now part of the sea of weapons within the "Thousand Blossoms in the Rain".

The space filled with floating weapons, commanded by the young man in purple, now seemed dull and rusted, as if corroded by time. Yet its density had increased—

To the extent that the surging waves of shockwaves and sword auras, which had been streaking toward him in erratic zigzagging patterns, crumbled into nothingness upon contact.

This was unlike anything Seomye Martial Lineage had ever produced.

Any warrior who laid eyes upon it would understand—

This was a technique crafted for prolonged battles.

And because of that, the only ones still charging toward him were the elite warriors of the Storm Dragon Association.

The rest quickly circled around toward the main gate, focusing on breaking through instead, while the martial artists of Ipwang Fortress met them head-on.

The battlefield once again roared with the clash of steel and the shattering of earth.

Sparks of fiery orange erupted in every direction, flickering like stars in broad daylight.

“...This is no technique for a swift battle.”

The Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry murmured from a distance, his gaze fixed upon Jeong Yeon-shin.

He and his warhorse had become one, exuding an overwhelming presence, causing the very ground to tremble like an approaching typhoon.

The air wavered, turning semi-transparent, distorting as dozens of internal energy techniques activated simultaneously.

The precursor to the Moon-Severing Charge.

The final preparations for Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry’s Death-Piercing Ax Strike were complete.

[We must end this quickly. Generals, take charge of the Divine Spear Division. Do not hesitate to attack together.]

His voice rumbled like an earthquake.

From the moment he had evaded Jeong Yeon-shin’s devastating sound technique with his horseback maneuvering, no one in the battlefield viewed him as merely human anymore.

Like the Lord of Storm Dragons or the young prodigy of Ipwang Fortress, he was a force of nature in human form.

Aksurim pointed her spear at the three remaining elite warriors of the Green Demon Cavalry.

It was clear she had positioned herself to defend Jeong Yeon-shin’s front flank.

Meanwhile, the Supreme Commander of Mugeuk was locked in battle with Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol—

Each clash sending shockwaves through the ground, causing the prosthetic leg of the former to sink deep into the earth every time he blocked a blow.

“Commander Mugeuk, you delayed me. It seems that bandit gets the first move.”

“If I interfere here, I’d lose face with that reptilian bastard. So for now, I’ll play with you instead.”

BOOM! CRASH! KABOOM—!

Fragments of shattered stone and earth shot in all directions, creating craters throughout the battlefield.

A dense mist of dust and energy rose from the ground as the Lord of Storm Dragons fought with a mirthful grin, his white-glowing eyes darting toward the sea of floating weapons in sheer admiration.

Of course, he never once lost track of the Supreme Commander of Mugeuk’s movements.

“What a solid defensive stance. The Twin Martial Lineages of Ipwang Fortress—Seomye for offense, Mugeuk for defense.”

“Today, Yangyang will lose all its grandmasters. What a pity.”

Those who stood protecting Jeong Yeon-shin’s front and rear did not respond.

They were veterans of the Supreme Sword Sect, just like him.

Since the order of assembly had been given, Jeong Yeon-shin had met many of his black-clad predecessors.

Not all of them openly expressed warmth toward him—

Yet they had saved his life in Sichuan, fought beside him, and faced death together.

Only now, at this moment, the two heads swaying from Grand Commander’s belt were missing from that shared fate.

The sound of thunderous hooves.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

[Commander Jeong, you should surrender. Ipwang Fortress has already fallen. This is simply the tide of an era born from chaos.]

Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry charged atop his warhorse, wielding a colossal battle-axe, set to trample Aksurim beneath its hooves.

At the same time, the three elite warriors of the Green Demon Cavalry flanked her, rushing in first—

Clearly attempting to eliminate her before she could become a variable in the fight.

Despite lacking warhorses, their silver forms hurtled forward like cavalrymen charging with full force, tearing through the air with heavy, suffocating pressure.

Even the sky darkened.

Above them, Storm Dragon Association warriors descended like a plague of locusts, seeking to breach the forbidden vaults of Ipwang Fortress.

They formed a great shadow, blotting out the sun—

As if summoning a catastrophe with their sheer presence.

There was no more holding back.

Since Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry had activated the Moon-Severing Charge, they saw no reason to hesitate any longer.

Aksurim bared her teeth like a lioness, shifting her grip on her spear and swinging it behind her.

With a subtle flick of Jeong Yeon-shin’s fingers—

The hundreds of floating weapons that filled the battlefield vanished into thin air.

At that very instant—

The ominous canopy of warriors overhead split apart like a torn ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) curtain.

A hundred and twenty bodies exploded in midair.

The bones and flesh, infused with the history of martial arts, shattered, burst, and disintegrated—

Their blood scattering like rainfall, refracting the winter sunlight in brilliant, eerie hues.

The Storm Dragon Association was annihilated.

Only then did the ground beneath Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet collapse, unable to withstand the recoil of the weapons’ propulsion force.

The sea of weapons had soared into the sky like a meteor shower—

And now, as if predetermined, silver streaks of light began descending toward the fortress walls.

Only eighteen weapons remained floating near Jeong Yeon-shin.

Meanwhile, Taebaek Bu-wang’s cavalry charge had reached mere inches away from him.

With an effortless motion—

Jeong Yeon-shin gently pushed Aksurim aside.

She spun away without resistance, calmly repositioning herself.

In the brief instant when the eighteen weapons caught the sunlight, painting the surroundings in a stark white radiance—

The positions of Jeong Yeon-shin and Grand Commander of the Green Demon Cavalry had suddenly reversed.

Ten of the eighteen weapons had shattered into dust.

Yet neither warrior bore so much as a single wound—

Only their clothing had slightly shifted.

Taebaek Bu-wang’s lips parted.

“...Did you dodge my strike just to take that?”

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t respond.

But in his right hand—

He now held the cord binding his fallen predecessors' severed heads.

If he had taken Taebaek Bu-wang’s attack head-on, they would have been obliterated.

Taebaek Bu-wang, glancing at Jeong Yeon-shin’s back, let out a breathless chuckle.

"You wasted so much energy—From the sound techniques to the Thousand Blossoms in the Rain... How do you plan to keep fighting?"

"The enemies facing Yangyang today—are more than just me. Hundreds who hold grudges against Ipwang Fortress will watch your corpse before the day ends."

"Even those who climbed the walls earlier... will return soon enough."

Taebaek Bu-wang smirked.

As Jeong Yeon-shin silently gazed down at the heads of his fallen comrades—

A madness flickered across his face—

A constant, shifting expression between silent mourning and empty rage.

Like a warrior teetering on the edge of insanity.

Taebaek Bu-wang’s smile faltered.

South of the fortress.

Where the sea of weapons had fallen like a meteor shower—

The warriors of the Thirteen Heavens and the vagabonds who had rushed past earlier—

A vast silence descended over the battlefield—

Filling the air like the dying light of a sunset.