Chapter 513: Chapter 513

Jeong Yeon-shin lifted the gourd and drank continuously.

Suppressing the blood he should have coughed up, he forced it back down along with the liquor, pushing it deep into his core with internal energy.

As he all but slammed the Thunder Immortal Wine down his throat, the fragrant aroma of the liquor mixed with the acrid stench of blood in his mouth.

‘My internal injuries are severe.’

Jeong Yeon-shin thought.

At this moment, the words of the man beneath his foot—the General Chief—rang true.

He had pushed himself to the limit to break through Arching Moon Dance, taking the full recoil of his own Tai Chi Reversal, which had returned his opponent’s attack completely.

His meridians burned, and the very pathways of his qi felt as if they were tearing apart.

On the fortress wall—

The supply from the blue-robed martial artist of Myeongryu Corps had arrived at a perfect moment.

The timing and trajectory of the thrown gourd had saved Jeong Yeon-shin’s life, coming just before his accumulating injuries spiraled into disaster.

Naturally, it rendered Je Gangcheon’s sacrifice meaningless.

“You wretched brat...!”

The last remaining top expert of the Green Forest Cavalry—a woman clad in silver armor, her scarred face twisted in fury—glared at Sambok.

Even while fending off Ak Su-rim’s relentless palm strikes, she managed to radiate killing intent.

She was clearly willing to expose her back to Ak Su-rim if it meant lunging at Sambok and running him through.

The blue-robed martial artist of Myeongryu Corps looked anxious, glancing at Jeong Yeon-shin, then hesitating with a nervous expression.

Perhaps it was the sheer absurdity of his words—because suddenly, the silver-armored expert’s stance shifted slightly.

Her pants creased just a little more finely—she had diverted some of her internal energy toward her Peripheral Nerves, sharpening her reflexes.

With the General Chief already subdued, she might have been considering taking the blue-robed warrior hostage instead.

But she never managed to turn away from Ak Su-rim.

Because at that moment, she faltered.

Jeong Yeon-shin had merely lowered his gaze toward her—his gourd still pressed against his lips.

A cold yet piercing stare.

The most intense force on the battlefield at that moment. Even as he drank like a madman with a sword in one hand, the sheer ferocity radiating from him was undeniable.

And in that brief instant—Ak Su-rim closed the distance and slammed her palm into the woman’s abdomen.

It was Burning Soul Palm, a technique passed down through the Divine Sword Corps.

The silver armor crumpled inwards, forming deep creases, as a searing shockwave erupted, tearing apart the ground.

The silver-armored warrior was sent hurtling backward like a comet, with Ak Su-rim right behind her, pursuing like a flash of lightning.

In that moment, Sambok quietly slipped into the shadow of the fortress wall and disappeared.

Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his gaze.

Beneath his foot, Je Gangcheon, his eyes soaked in blood, looked up at him.

“Moving Energy... is it?”

Je Gangcheon’s voice was slow.

“...If I had known of such things when I first stepped into the northern lands.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, still standing tall, was circulating the medicinal properties of Thunder Immortal Wine throughout his entire body.

Moving Energy (Donggong).

A technique that allowed for a Great Circulatory Cycle even while in motion.

And Jeong Yeon-shin’s mastery of it had long since begun gazing beyond even the realm of perfection.

‘Windless. Moonlight. Swinging.’

Jeong Yeon-shin ignored the slight dizziness settling into his mind and wrapped his entire circulatory system with the medicine’s energy, silently repeating the core mantra of Moving Energy.

Haeil Kwoncheon could break free from the violet-clad woman’s grasp at any moment and blow the fortress gate apart.

His Protective Qi had been irritating Jeong Yeon-shin from the start—it had the density of diamond.

And the Blazing Sun Qi emanating from him was just as troublesome. A power like that always had the potential to create variables.

The Lord of Murong Sect, who had been standing idle with his arms crossed throughout the entire battle, was just as much of a problem.

He was now watching Jeong Yeon-shin with growing interest, absentmindedly tapping his foot.

A massive figure, reminiscent of an ox, yet—

Not even the slightest dust rose from beneath his feet.

Only the ground cracked in response to his tapping.

There was no telling what he was preparing.

It was fitting to call him an eccentric.

“Oh? Please, continue.”

As their gazes met, the Lord of Murong Sect grinned broadly and spoke.

“This Hyeok Ryeon Pungwol has never once fought alongside another in his entire life. Not even when I met with your superior—ah, but I suppose you’re of equal rank now. Regardless, even when I went to cross hands with Yong Hui-myeong, it was the same. I rejected Yeoryeong Lord’s earnest requests and moved alone.”

Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head.

Through the lingering thunderous crashes and dust, the long-haired woman danced lightly.

The violet robes suited her uncannily well.

[Regurgitation. Resonance.]

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight

As she made a seemingly careless gesture, circular waves formed in the air.

Layers upon layers of massive shockwaves stacked together, slamming into the ground.

And at their center—Haeil Kwoncheon, kneeling on one knee.

Each time he tried to rise, the earth shattered beneath him with the sound of rolling thunder.

An exquisitely precise spell-based martial art—so precise that it seemed like she was toying with him.

The ground cracked violently.

Long fractures spread in every direction, and slowly, the ghost mask covering Haeil Kwoncheon’s face began to splinter, exposing his bare skin.

The violet-clad woman, who had been looking down at him, suddenly lifted her gaze.

She met Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes.

A faint smile curled at the corner of her lips.

[I’m late. Quite unbecoming of a senior.]

"A junior’s techniques tend to be reckless. As a result, they are simply a little faster."

Jeong Yeon-shin replied flatly.

By now, he had recognized in her the same presence as Elder Shin Byeok of the Grand Council.

At first, he hadn’t understood why.

But with Heaven’s Sight still fully activated, he had pieced it together.

At the very least, he was certain—she was an old acquaintance of Ak Su-rim.

Though, of course, her exact identity remained unknown.

For now, he was simply doing what an Acting Commander should do.

‘The energy of Thunder Immortal Wine is spreading. At this rate, I’ll be at full capacity within the hour.’

Countless figures had now gathered around.

Among them, how many would not follow the will of the Yeoryeong Lord?

How many intended to aid Ipwang Fortress?

Even just those standing stiffly on the rooftops of the city numbered in the hundreds.

Beyond them, warriors filled the marketplace, hands resting on their swords—light-movement masters kicking up dust as they halted.

Some of them shifted their gaze nervously, unsure of what to do.

Most were clearly skilled martial artists.

A true convergence of the martial world, gathered in Yangyang, ignoring the lines between orthodox and unorthodox sects.

It was impossible to count how many factions were present.

Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed the blood rising in his throat.

Because to those who had come this far—

The meaning of stepping into the wasteland.

An overwhelming display.

"Could it be that you're hesitating...?"

"Wondering why, after charging forward with such force, they suddenly stopped their light movement techniques?"

It was the General Chief, Je Gangcheon.

His voice had suddenly grown sharp and distinct.

Even his pulse, beating like a warhorse’s gallop, throbbed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s foot. The resonance of Innate Qi.

Jeong Yeon-shin briefly scanned the gathered forces before lowering his gaze.

At the same time, the leader of the mounted bandits answered his own question.

"Isn’t it obvious? The one responsible for this sea of corpses—"

"The very same figure at the center of the recent 'Destruction of the Thirteen Heavens' incident—"

"Is now standing here, drinking atop his fallen foe as if enjoying a leisurely moment."

"Even Yama, the Judge of the Underworld, would shudder at such a sight."

And with that, he let out a quivering chuckle.

But the sheer number of forces surrounding the southern side of Ipwang Fortress was overwhelming.

If they chose to throw away their lives and charge in, Jeong Yeon-shin would have to consider the safety of the martial families inside the inner fortress.

The final move of the Ipwang Fortress Extermination Plan.

He could feel countless gazes.

Not just from the warriors of the martial world, but also from those who had already been present, and even from the violet-clad woman of unknown allegiance.

Jeong Yeon-shin met Je Gangcheon’s gaze without expression.

He recalled the man’s earlier critique of his qualifications as the Divine Sword Corps Leader.

That had required greater restraint than he expected.

Because avenging the fallen black-clad seniors would have been much easier.

"Turning to banditry and pillaging commoners. Why?"

At his question, Je Gangcheon chuckled.

"The lives of emperors and generals, of martial artists, of peasants—"

"All are dictated by the times."

"In an era of chaos, all things become twisted."

"You will find the answer to your question once you set foot in the northern lands."

It sounded like he had gained enlightenment through madness in the north.

At those words, a smirk lifted the corner of Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips.

Was it the intoxication?

For the first time, his sneer bore resemblance to So Cheonmujuk, and even the movement of his lips carried a sharp edge of killing intent.

At that very moment, the voice of Grand Commander Im Jin-myeong returned through transmission.

"I apologize for causing concern. I remain unharmed."

"Focus on securing the south, Jeong Gong."

"The reinforcement sent was a former Divine Sword Corps Leader, bearing the surname Shin, with the given name Cheonhwa."

The distinctly rough voice somehow reassured him.

Jeong Yeon-shin immediately spoke.

"If a hand trained in martial arts can wield a sword, surely it can till a field as well."

"The true problem is not that you lacked an answer—"

"But that your feeble mind never once considered such noble pursuits as farming or trade."

"Your life is a patchwork of contradictions. A worthless existence clinging to the end of its days."

"If the issue was with your Baihui Acupoint, I might have spared you the trouble and sent your worthless Upper Dantian on its way instead."

This was spoken not just to Je Gangcheon—

But to the entire martial world.

The very ground where his family had perished.

Not his blood relatives at Jeong Manor, but the warriors who had fought beside him—

The Myeongryu Corps, So Yeon Corps, and Suncheon Lord’s forces.

A deep silence sliced through the air.

For the first time, the General Chief of the Green Forest Cavalry was at a loss for words.

How often had such raw, naked words been spoken among the transcendents of the martial world?

Even some of the warriors who had been advancing hesitated, their gazes flickering.

A violet-clad figure openly voicing their thoughts on the martial world?

Even the most experienced °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° veterans of the martial arts world rarely encountered such a presence in their lifetime.

Je Gangcheon looked up at Jeong Yeon-shin and murmured.

"...No one is born a bandit."

"Were the warriors of Ipwang Fortress born with the character 'Huang' carved into their shoulders?"

"...That too is true."

Je Gangcheon muttered in a dying voice.

"Your words are excessive!"

"How can a man who has slaughtered just as much as he preach to us?"

"The killings Ipwang Fortress has committed against the martial world—!"

Distant voices erupted from the crowd.

Each voice carried a subtle, distorted qi signature.

Yeoryeong Lord’s faction.

The Lord of Murong Sect vanished from his spot and reappeared mid-air, crushing the sources of those voices beneath him.

The Silver Spear that had been lying far away, discarded by Ak Su-rim, suddenly snapped into Jeong Yeon-shin’s grip with a sharp impact.

"Rather than tending fields, martial world dogs seem more interested in barking."

The laughing voice of the Lord of Murong Sect echoed across the battlefield.

Jeong Yeon-shin swung the spear.

The blade scraped against the ground before arcing high into the air.

And along that trajectory—

Je Gangcheon’s severed head followed, impaled mid-flight on the spear’s tip.

A green banner was swept up in the wake of the spear’s movement, wrapping tightly around the shaft.

Two precise uses of Qi Manipulation.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s arm blurred, and the spear vanished with a deafening explosion.

The ground beneath the vanguard of the martial world’s forces trembled violently.

Two overlapping shockwaves.

The first when the spear was launched.

The second when the earth beneath them shattered like a spiderweb and collapsed entirely.

Even through the deafening roar—

Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice cut through, clear and unwavering.

"Jeongga Seomye declares this."

"That banner represents the authority of Ipwang Fortress."

"And it is now planted right before your very eyes."

The murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Driven into the earth at an angle, standing defiant.

The severed head of the Green Forest Cavalry’s General Chief.

The banner of Ipwang Fortress, marked with the character 'Huang' (荒), flapping violently in the wind.

Just like the warriors of Ipwang Fortress, who never knew a day without storms in the martial world.

Jeong Yeon-shin muttered.

"Let’s see if the martial world’s courage is as great as its pride."

For the wandering martial artists of the Ming lands, those held greater value than life itself.

In the end, it all came down to reputation.

They granted each other grandiose titles, sought to engrave their names into the annals of martial history through countless journeys and exploits.

Even the mastery of martial arts was never just for self-satisfaction—it was meant to be tested in duels, in battles to the death.

And now, in this unprecedented gathering, every person present had come here for a reason—

Whether out of ambition, grudges, or obligations, they had all chosen to interfere in the affairs of Ipwang Fortress.

Big or small, each of them represented a faction, a sect, a region’s martial world.

The banner Jeong Yeon-shin had planted was a death sentence thrown at their feet.

A ghastly mountain of corpses, the murky blood of the fallen soaking into the fortress walls and soil, the chilling stillness of the battlefield—

And standing at the center of it all, bottle in hand, was the Acting Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.

Could they break the banner while he watched?

"If you break it, you die where you stand."

"If you hesitate and turn away, then you have no right to speak of Ipwang Fortress' so-called oppression of the martial world."

Among the crowd, the Lord of Murong Sect murmured.

"I've never been one for such petty disputes. But today, I’ve witnessed something worth remembering.

"I shall pay my respects to the next Divine Sword Corps Leader and take my leave."

With those parting words, his figure vanished like a descending shadow.

A movement technique nearing the pinnacle of martial arts.

Not a single person within Ipwang Fortress could hope to stop him in this moment.

The martial world was put to the test.

Some who had been eager to denounce Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly fell silent, as if frozen in place.

From among the crowd, Shin Cheonhwa stepped forward, hands folded behind his back.