Chapter 519: Chapter 519

As the three Singeom Masters scrutinized the Guardian’s Internal Energy Technique, “True Flame Celestial Body,” with sharp focus—

Jeong Yeon-shin braced himself for a massive impact.

Even if the strike had restraint behind it, it was a blow worthy of a tyrant.

He had to assume that the former abbot of Shaolin, Beomheo the Great, who once vanished with the dragon in tow, had now unleashed Baekbo Divine Fist in full form right before his eyes, and with a body entirely unscathed.

Given the nature of martial arts rooted in tyranny, it was possible that the strike exceeded even that assumption.

A faint resonance echoed from Jeong Yeon-shin’s abdomen where Ma Yeon-jeok had touched him.

The tension that had seeped into the space in a soft blue hue was drawn into that sound and vanished—as if pulled inward. At a glance, it appeared to have been concentrated precisely at a single point.

Yet Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression was tinged with confusion. There was no real shock.

Ma Yeon-jeok had simply tapped the center of his rectus abdominis, almost like an internal test method, and then nodded to himself, praising Jeong Yeon-shin’s Guardian Technique.

“No need to examine any further. That internal energy barrier of yours could even overpower Northern Origin Chaos and Heavenly Scorch Armor.”

“...Both are martial arts I’ve never heard of.”

Jeong Yeon-shin chose not to openly express anything unusual to his dignified grandfather.

Shin Cheonhwa, standing nearby with a look of thinly veiled contempt, was sufficient for that. Her expression was vivid enough to be oddly endearing. On one side stood Yong Hui-myeong, already rolling up his sleeve.

“Considering your venerable senior’s age, it’s no surprise. He’s long past his prime.”

The sleeve of the era’s sole Singeom Master fluttered upward from the motion.

A scholarly robe in traditional fashion, its violet hem somewhat faded. The color was lighter than when Jeong had seen him duel to the death with the Namgung family. A subtle mark of turbulent times.

“That was the Grand Rain Palm. Five-star energy should suffice.”

As he said this, a rainbow-hued light pulsed—woong—from Yong Hui-myeong’s arm, and in the next instant, Jeong Yeon-shin saw the man’s hand vanish in a blur, only to reappear in front of his abdomen.

The supreme palm technique of the current Singeom Master.

A technique exclusive to Yong Hui-myeong. It was said that anyone hit directly by it—regardless of their status in the martial world—would be forced to show deference.

Whether they collapsed in death or lost their stance from the overwhelming force.

The moment that palm touched Jeong Yeon-shin’s stomach, the ground surged as if it were a wave. Quite literally, the earth rose in jagged peaks.

The explosion came after.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind went blank.

It was a blow more terrifying than anything he had experienced before—striking dead center in his abdomen.

It felt as though the jaws of a dragon, lined with blade-proof fangs, had clamped down on his stomach and crushed it whole.

It was unmistakably a technique of ultimate power.

It aimed to completely destroy his bodily balance.

It was, in truth, cruel. How many in the world could maintain composure after taking such a technique?

‘My honor as the true body...!’

Jeong Yeon-shin had to flood all the meridians in his body with the Lightwheel Method. Concentrating his energy only in the legs wouldn’t be enough—he had to support the shock through his waist and upper body as well.

If he didn’t want to be flung away in disgrace, he had to endure it with his entire body.

They were testing his Guardian’s Inner Technique.

Letting a single attack slip would be unacceptable. That would be no different from losing to Yong Hui-myeong again.

That’s why his eyes flashed with radiant white light at that moment.

‘I will become the Singeom Master. Very soon, without fail.’

Thus he endured a moment that felt like an eternity.

Until the shockwave subsided.

His feet carved deep trenches into the earth as he was pushed back, before coming to a halt at a certain point.

At the same time, the dust stirred up by the technique's aftermath scattered violently—woong—across the surroundings.

It was a gust born from Ma Yeon-jeok’s hand gesture.

“That was too much. Do you have a death wish?”

But Yong Hui-myeong didn’t respond to the former Singeom Master’s scolding. He merely stared down blankly at the palm that had unleashed the technique.

Darkened and singed. Sparks occasionally flickered from the air around his hand.

It was the mark of receiving back the resonance of refined power.

A strange smile curled at Yong Hui-myeong’s lips as he lowered his gaze.

“...Having experienced it myself, this technique doesn’t even need a preparatory move.”

You crafted it to your own temperament. He muttered to himself.

The evaluation from the current Singeom Master was calm, yet biting. But Jeong Yeon-shin let those words pass with unwavering composure.

The ancient sages once said: Do not lend ear to words lacking in benevolence. Yong Hui-myeong’s technique was designed to humiliate the opponent. Just like its master’s character.

The world would witness a greater Singeom Master.

Jeong Yeon-shin was calmly certain of it.

Meanwhile, Shin Cheonhwa was stroking her chin.

Was she using her mental technique? Black lightning flickered in her eyes. Jeong Yeon-shin sensed something distant in the depths of those obsidian pupils.

[The functional core of the martial technique is focused on rebound force. I’ve rarely seen something so aggressively designed. Because of that, though, it has some bluntness. It won’t respond properly to skillful, subtle moves. Of course, it’s perfect for countering brute-force attacks...]

She trailed off slowly.

A thought surfaced in Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind.

Hangzhou. A life-or-death duel with drawn swords.

His left arm had naturally soared and fallen away from his body.

He had failed to properly withstand the ultimate technique of the Celestial Master.

His body had to bear countless stab wounds.

Even if he were to go back and face that duel again, it would be no different. He might still lose.

But Shin Cheonhwa seemed to think otherwise.

[The Singeom Master must not lose under any circumstances. That’s the level of the title. Naturally, you must be proficient in every domain. Now that we’ve found what to fill in, your Guardian’s Inner Technique must also develop omnidirectionally like Bo Shingong.]

[I’ll teach you a few key insights. First, I want to suggest a structure where you bind your true energy like a coiled rope—but of course, you must maintain the nature of your Guardian’s technique. So it’ll be a method where you pre-weave your internal energy like constellations along the inner meridians, borrowing the subtlety of the Six Harmonies...]

Her words flowed like water, and Jeong Yeon-shin grasped every piece of advice instantly, embodying them outwardly in the moment.

Naturally, his own thoughts and interpretations layered over them. A whisper imbued with mystic insight escaped his lips.

“You mention union (hap), and it brings to mind the Celestial Stem Union (Cheongan-hap). If I interpret the harmony of yin and yang not as balance, but as collision, it aligns with the principle of my martial art, Hwangang... Ah, your insight is remarkable. By embodying this kind of extreme reactive force, the Guardian’s Inner Technique would respond to any attack. No one would dare plunge their hand into an unextinguished lightning bolt... Indeed, the previous generation was truly a wellspring of knowledge...”

Eventually, even that murmuring ceased.

His eyelids lowered faintly. He had descended inward. Leaving behind a monologue that drifted like mist, heading in a direction opposite of what Shin Cheonhwa had intended.

Her eyes met Ma Yeon-jeok’s.

[He’s quite the polite one. You say he inherited your blood completely?]

Ma Yeon-jeok muttered low enough to almost be inaudible.

“...This will suffice.”

At some point, Yong Hui-myeong, now expressionless again, returned carrying a massive boulder, and began carving into it bare-handed.

Meanwhile, Ma Yeon-jeok and Shin Cheonhwa conversed, indifferent to the strange behavior of their juniors.

“I thought it was all nonsense. Back when you stacked those ridiculous dharma artifacts beneath the true body. ...Even up until I witnessed your ghost with my own eyes.”

[Do you know how much wealth the True Body could mobilize? The Imperial Treasury poured endless resources into my cultivation. There was nothing I couldn’t do. Preserving Won Yeong-shin for centuries was hardly a challenge.]

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“You’re a ghost who will never appear again anyway.”

[Do I detect disappointment?]

“You overestimate yourself.”

[And yet, I feel a flicker of lingering attachment.]

Though the surroundings were steeped in a gloom like the depths of the abyss, above the heads of the four people connected to the Singeom Master and the Divine Sword stood an invisible sun.

A short yet eternal moment passed in utter naturalness.

Jeong Yeon-shin, eyes opened once more. Yong Hui-myeong, having carved a chair out of stone. Ma Yeon-jeok and Shin Cheonhwa, who despite their eccentricities, never strayed far from the others.

“What’s that chair for?”

“It’s part of my training. Don’t get any ideas, junior.”

“What sort of training...?”

“I plan to sit here and face all the monsters and demons of this land. I might refine the movements of both arms. My Dragon Ring Sword will become more complete.”

“Was that really... necessary?”

Their hands had met, swords exchanged.

[You carry Guihuangzhi in your robes. You realized the utility of law-force early. No wonder there’s a mystic scent about you.]

“Someone once gave me advice on how to forge dharma tools.”

[Hand it here. I’m not one to toy with such things.]

Many events now orbited around Jeong Yeon-shin. In that pitch-black space, there were only the four of them.

From time to time, a sticky breeze slid across their skin like the tongue of the abyss itself, but none of them paid it any mind.

The air kept tearing in dim, jagged rips.

A distorted sun floated within the wide current.

The afternoon sunlight that filled the Yangtze glistened brightly across the surroundings, and the water—draped in that flowing light like a robe—shimmered with an ethereal glow.

Yangtze River region.

Ever since the Empress Dowager of old and Sambong Zhenren exchanged hands upstream, the waters have retained a perpetual clarity, thus the place was known as Sangcheong—“Ever-Clear.”

“I wonder what became of the True Body.”

The girl in a blue long robe standing on the stone-strewn shore spoke as she braced herself against the fierce river wind. Her tone was clear and forceful, with an unusually distinct articulation.

The one-eyed swordsman in black, Ma Gwang-ik’s subordinate Cheongmyeong, stood beside her and replied half-heartedly.

“Lord Jeong handled it.”

“Still, no one person could possibly hold an entire battlefield. Even if we won, some of our warriors must’ve died.”

“That’s inevitable. Regrettable, but so it is.”

Cheongmyeong spoke matter-of-factly.

But the blue-clad martial artist Shin So-bin couldn’t bring herself to retort.

A fiery shell suddenly erupted from the riverside and embedded itself beside them.

As the ground crumbled with a thunderous crash and sharp shards scattered in all directions, Shin So-bin extended her arm sideways. The shadow of her hand multiplied into countless petals and slammed down on the explosion.

It was a variation of Shihwa Muguksu: Fist Flower. A technique Jeong Yeon-shin had taught her long ago, back when she struggled against lightning bombs during her early days in blue robes.

Shin So-bin was the blue-clad Jeong Yeon-shin.

Behind her and Cheongmyeong, Ma Gwang-ik’s warriors now stood in their own formations.

“Blood-Soaked Radiant Queen! As expected of Gwangya Ilmyeol’s disciple!”

A ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) booming voice rose from the ship that had fired the shell.

A great faction symbolic of the chaotic age.

Ships had already begun sailing into Sangcheong’s domain. The fleet, each vessel bearing sharp bows and wide sails—some with two, others with more—numbered well over thirty and exuded sheer intimidation.

They split the water like blades, slicing forward at rapid speed.

These were the warships of the pirate lords now newly called the Thirteen Heavens.

Sailors propelled the ships by launching propulsion waves with both hands, and while the spectacle was overwhelming, it failed to catch the eyes of Ma Gwang-ik’s elite.

Because of what had appeared on the opposite side of the river.

Hundreds of warhorses standing atop the water, plain to see. Each beast massive, their muscles sharply defined, emitting faint streams of energy.

Upon their backs sat figures with bare upper bodies gripping crescent blades and axes.

They were using mounted techniques to perform Ascending Peace Water Crossing.

With the gently rippling water, the troop of horses and riders swayed like illusions.

At that very moment, the sunlight that had bathed the river took on the crimson shimmer of twilight haze.

Ma Gwang-ik’s subordinate Cheongmyeong slowly parted his lips.

“...Guangye Arts—activated.”

In that instant, Ma Gwang-ik’s martial artists flared into brilliant pale light. The air itself rumbled—KUROONG.

Not one person present had failed to achieve mastery in martial arts.

It was the extreme radiance technique: Guangye Arts.