Chapter 515: Chapter 515

The unparalleled technique that the Supreme Leader of the Ming Sect designated as a life-saving art. Properly executing it once required countless preparations, and to pinpoint a specific destination for the transfer, twice that effort was necessary.

For Jeong Yeon-shin, it was a technique of both love and hate.

It had been quite some time since he lost someone akin to a sister. And today, in a situation completely opposite to when he lost Baek Mi-ryeo, he had defended Ipwang Fortress.

It was not an art originally permitted to Jeong Yeon-shin.

Of course, he had long since grasped the principles of its internal energy manipulation. But the enlightenment needed to fully manifest Ihyeong Void—the precise mindset and formulaic structure—was absent.

Naturally, unlike the likes of the Supreme Leader or the Dark Celestial Emperor, he could not step precisely wherever he wished.

Just as Jeong Yeon-shin and the Supreme Leader could not perfectly replicate the Plum Blossom Swordsmanship of Yulha Nangnang or the Thousand Hands Tathagata Palm of Grandmaster Beomheo.

Jeong Yeon-shin could merely follow the enemies as they made their desperate escape.

The traces of energy waves they left behind in space, like stains.

Plunging his sword into the faint mist left in their wake, he would trigger the internal energy mechanism of Ihyeong Void.

The enemies, who had been entirely confident in their escape, were already shocked by just that.

But it was not enough.

Just as the Lord of Cheongeum Sect once spoke of tracing the path of the sword within Ihyeong Void as a matter of destiny, Jeong Yeon-shin likewise could not always succeed in his pursuit.

Thus, he entered seclusion training.

For a brief period, within the City of the Celestial Tree, he honed his swordsmanship.

Jeong Yeon-shin had grown quite adept at mimicking those superior to him, even if crudely.

With the permission of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, he had unified his senses with the Celestial Tree to gaze down upon Yangyang—a skill gained through that seclusion.

Like the countless monkeys swinging through the trees, the swordsmanship of an ephemeral existence bridged the vast distance, spanning from Jiangsu Province to Huguang Province in an instant.

[Yes, with that, you are truly worthy to walk with me. You are better than that Ma bastard.]

That was the response from Shin Cheonhwa upon hearing the whole story.

Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent. Yet, the silence of a gentleman often signified acknowledgment.

At the same time, Shin Cheonhwa’s jet-black hair surged upward as if bursting into laughter before settling back down.

A phenomenon proving the supreme mastery of the Three Blossoming Spirits—her internal energy following her will with no perceptible delay.

Her lips parted again.

[Regardless... No matter how much the world resents Ipwang Fortress, a war of this scale has never occurred in front of its main stronghold. At least not in my lifetime... Hmm, at this point, there is no need to look further. The nation has fallen into chaos.]

Jeong Yeon-shin, having observed the fluctuations of her energy, nodded.

“Yes. It is an era of turmoil. And simultaneously, a time of famine.”

For a brief moment, the pitch-black light in Shin Cheonhwa’s eyes flickered.

[Now that I think about it, even the earth’s energy is unusual... You have endured much. You, and the warriors under your command in the fortress.]

Her gaze then shifted.

Ak Su-rim, who had silently carried the now-unconscious Haeil Kwoncheon over her shoulders like a bundle of rags. Earlier, she had struck his pressure points after subduing him to the ground.

Haeil Kwoncheon hung limp like a prisoner of war, his massive frame sagging. If Ak Su-rim had been just a little shorter, his feet would have scraped against the ground.

[My Su-rim, your martial arts have improved greatly. You even managed to subdue someone like him.]

It seemed like just yesterday that she had run away from home as a reckless youth. The moment Shin Cheonhwa, her tone carrying a trace of laughter, finished speaking, Ak Su-rim abruptly asked.

“You’re leaving for good, aren’t you?”

[Yes. There are matters to discuss among those of purple.]

Shin Cheonhwa nodded, then suddenly put on a mischievous expression.

[If you feel wronged, then create your own supreme life-saving art. Judging by your current state, I’d say you have at least a hundred more years ahead of you, if not more. You’ll outlive me.]

She spoke of longevity as if it were a trivial matter.

Yet Ak Su-rim’s expression remained calm.

A face Jeong Yeon-shin had never seen before. At this moment, the commander of the Ipwang Divine Spear truly looked like a seasoned veteran accustomed to farewells. It was unfamiliar even to Shin Cheonhwa, as she slightly widened her eyes.

Ak Su-rim handed Haeil Kwoncheon over to two martial masters who had hurried to her side.

“You know it’s difficult. Advancing without faltering.”

The two warriors, clad in blue and white, showed awkward respect toward Shin Cheonhwa, while their emotions toward Jeong Yeon-shin could not be fully conveyed through mere glances. Like flashes of lightning, they turned and swiftly disappeared.

Within the gust left behind by their light-footed movement, the hem of Shin Cheonhwa’s robe fluttered in a deep violet hue.

[Are you still clinging to the latter half of Akga Spear Arts?]

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Ak Su-rim answered nonchalantly and extended her hand toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

The energy released from her grip pulled her spear toward her, and Jeong Yeon-shin relinquished the flag he had made without resistance.

The moment she seized it, she slammed it into the ground.

The earth trembled violently.

Some martial artists who had been cautiously retreating through the streets of Yangyang flinched. Even the young girl in a black robe bore a similar air to the acting commander of the Divine Sword Corps.

From the spear’s shaft embedded in the ground, a hazy dust cloud rose, distorting the outlines between Ak Su-rim’s figure and the fortress gates of Ipwang.

There was no separation between the two.

Even as she opened her mouth again, the scene remained unchanged.

“In just a single moment, I am more than enough to replace the acting commander. From now on, do not call for me in vain. I will not answer.”

[Yes. I once predicted that your spear would replace the fortress’s banner.]

And so, the parting of old warriors from Ipwang Fortress was a simple, unembellished affair.

The woman in violet fully turned to face Jeong Yeon-shin.

[I wonder if my guess is correct. From what I’ve heard, it seems the General Command of the fortress is completely cut off from the purples now.]

At her words, Jeong Yeon-shin immediately recalled his grandfather’s letter.

—The Yongga and the old ones shall eradicate the inhuman. You, meanwhile, must subjugate the world.

Even as the fortress faced crisis after crisis, Ma Yeon-jeok and Yong Hui-myeong had never appeared.

Had any word of the fortress’s plight reached them, today’s annihilation war in Ipwang Fortress would have unfolded entirely differently.

Jeong Yeon-shin, Yong Hui-myeong, and Ma Yeon-jeok would have stood side by side in their violet robes, commanding the battlefield.

Even Grandmaster Beomheo had spoken similarly to Jeong Yeon-shin in recent days.

That he must live within the martial world of men. Naturally, such words were backed by the sacrifices of his predecessors.

Beyond the ‘gate’ that even the wings of divine creatures could not reach lay the domain of the elders of Ipwang Fortress and the masters of the Nine Great Sects.

Slowly, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.

“...I have already said that we can no longer rely on the predecessors. Even the General Command of the fortress now excludes them from all its considerations.”

He had just lumped Yong Hui-myeong in with the previous generation and immediately regretted it. Though it was the truth, it was hardly appropriate to say in front of a great senior of the fortress.

[Indeed. Even the Lord of the Fortress cannot pinpoint their whereabouts.]

Shin Cheonhwa showed no particular reaction.

And then, the energy she had been gathering swelled like the beat of a war drum.

It was the precursor to Ihyeong Void.

[Once you step inside the gate to deal with demonic anomalies, you become isolated there, as if you had set foot in the realm of the immortals. Even an elder divine creature would struggle to find you, let alone a mere mortal. And cutting through the gate with human martial arts is nearly impossible.]

One could not help but think of the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan. The old swordsman who cut down the gate of Mount Zhongnan and vanished beyond the mortal realm.

But instead of commenting on that, Jeong Yeon-shin asked the more urgent question.

“The time you mentioned is nearly up. Are you holding up well?”

Shin Cheonhwa suddenly stomped her foot, a smirk playing at her lips.

[It turns out I have more time than I initially estimated.]

At that moment, a dense radiance unfurled beneath her feet.

It split into multiple streaks of blue light in an instant, moving in bold strokes like the brushwork of a painter wielding fire, drawing a vast circle.

Within moments, strange symbols and inscriptions, seemingly from an ancient era, filled its perimeter.

[Your spiritual power... I still don’t know how you refined it, but right now, this Circle of Spirit Harmony is barely holding together because of you. Without you, I wouldn’t have had time to search for that Ma brat.]

Shin Cheonhwa’s eyelids lowered slightly.

The former Supreme Commander of the Divine Sword Corps had become utterly immersed in a single technique.

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had internally resigned himself to failure, suddenly felt warmth return to his face. Even though victory had been declared, his comrades had perished.

From °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the moment he was called Jeong Yeon-shin, he had lost much of the peace of mind he once had. Now, Yong Hui-myeong’s advice was more precious than ever.

‘Now that I’m leading Ipwang Fortress alone...’

What should he do now?

He had upheld the fortress’s prestige, but the post-war devastation remained.

How should he restructure the fortress’s command after the war? His master, the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, had traveled a great distance and would remain in the city of the Celestial Tree for some time.

Then, Shin Cheonhwa lowered her hand at an angle.

[If you want to see that brat’s expression in all its colors, you’d better take this with you.]

At that moment, dust was drawn into her palm.

The gathered particles condensed into a pearl-like orb, swirling like mist in her grasp.

Within its surface shimmered the faint image of Ipwang Fortress’s gates—Jeong Yeon-shin’s figure present within it.

It was a reflection of the scene from the battle’s outset.

[You’re in luck. I managed to capture it all.]

Shin Cheonhwa muttered with satisfaction, her expression one of pure transcendence. At this moment, she seemed like a mountain deity gathering the memories of the earth.

Far beyond what Jeong Yeon-shin had once witnessed from the Lord of the Zhuge Clan.

Then, she spoke again, stating that time was now the pressing issue.

[Martial arts based on spells begin and end with incantations. Unlike the martial arts you’ve learned, where the conceptual imagery takes form within your body to manifest power, spell-based techniques require that intent to flow outward into the world. A bothersome process, really.]

Standing atop the rotating, blue-glowing formation, the two figures faced each other.

[To bring about a great event, conditions must be met. Luck and inevitability must intertwine. And the condition for finding Ma Yeon-jeok here is...]

Shin Cheonhwa continued.

[From this moment on, as long as that Ma brat calls your name even once, the formation will activate. At the cost of nearly all the energy within this grand Circle of Spirit Harmony.]

Jeong Yeon-shin’s calm response made Shin Cheonhwa let out a sheepish chuckle.

[To be honest, this is a miracle that only the Supreme Leader of the Ming Sect could have performed in the past. I made it sound easy, but in truth, we still need a stroke of destiny...]

A tremor erupted from beneath the earth. The patterns of the formation began to rotate slowly, the sound of shifting soil rumbling along with it.

Shin Cheonhwa, who had been mid-sentence, suddenly fell silent, vanishing from sight.

Ak Su-rim, standing at a distance, wore a look of pure disbelief.

And Jeong Yeon-shin’s figure, as he swung his sword downward through the void, completely scattered.

A mountain of jet-black scales.

It was not merely large—it was a monolith.

Under the colossal shadow it cast, two men sat casually upon the dirt.

Their appearances differed, but they seemed to be of the same generation, both in their thirties.

“Live as a man of the martial world, you say? Isn’t that a bit much?”

His deep-purple robe hung loosely, left open on both sides. With his left hand, he pressed against a deep wound in his chest, as if branding it with fire.

The air around him warped ceaselessly.

Smoke rose from his flesh, burning with the flames of Sammaejin.

The mountain of black scales trembled once, shifting its massive form.

Yet neither of them turned to look. Their hands would never allow for variables, not even if the enemy was a dragon that walked like a god.

Soon after, Yong Hui-myeong, Supreme Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, furrowed his brow and recited as if quoting poetry.

“Ah, the impermanence of life. I must already resign myself to tending to an old man. What use is the Divine Sword of Transcendence? I, too, would like to stroll by a lakeside where men live.”

The man in the pink robe replied curtly.

Yong Hui-myeong responded just as quickly.

“Is your side alright? That wound seems rather deep. If you think you might seize up, let me know in advance. I have no patience for such inconveniences.”

“You’re talking nonsense because you’re bored. If you keep babbling, I might just let my hands do the talking.”

Yong Hui-myeong let out a soft chuckle.

He fastened the front of his robe and asked offhandedly.

“The fortress should be fine, right?”

“My grandson is there. Worry about yourself.”

“Speaking of which, how far do you think that kid has risen?”

“At the very least, he’ll catch up to you soon.”

Yong Hui-myeong grinned. It was a teasing smile.

“Well, that is certainly possible. After all, the last generation’s elder was only ‘almost’ ahead of me before I took the Divine Sword for myself.”

“I have high expectations, you see. I have no interest in mediocrity.”

At Yong Hui-myeong’s words, the man in the pink robe let out a scoff.

“Soon, the whole world will know. My grandson, Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin, will submerge the Wandering Sword Yong Hui-myeong into the tides of the Long River and claim the Divine Sword as his own.”

“We’ll see. I’m only just now getting comfortable with this hilt. But more importantly, we need to survive first...”

Both of them fell silent at the same time.

And in that moment, translucent figures flickered into view between them.

Yong Hui-myeong, who had been lazily clenching and unclenching his fists, narrowed his eyes.

The dim light cast by the mountain of scales shimmered, and four distinct figures took form.

[You have arrived properly.]

It was the First Sword of the Violet Circle.