Chapter 545: Chapter 545

The Great Wall. A long, unending wall.

Though it stretched clearly left and right, its end could not be seen. It faded endlessly into a pale haze, swallowed by the yellow dust storms. No matter which way one looked, the scenery remained the same.

It wound along the distant ridgelines like the body of a coiling dragon, as if it were meant to seal off the world itself.

It wasn’t built by a handful of lives.

It was the martial feat of an entire nation.

That was the judgment of certain elite masters from the great sects, well-versed in supreme realms of cultivation.

They said the wall was imbued with the countless sacrifices buried within its stones—its resentment denser than that of any ultimate martial technique.

The section north of Beijing was no different.

A massive fortress erected between the long stretches of wall.

Though called a gate, it had been built by the imperial Iron Clan on a terrifying scale. Its height alone reached eighty zhang. A cliff carved by human hands.

At this moment, two people stood atop the tallest watchtower of Geyong Pass: a young man in a purple long robe and a middle-aged man clad in worn silver armor.

“The stones were laid using spiritual energy infused with fire from the natural world,” said the middle-aged man, hands clasped behind his back. He was Great Marshal Jeon U-rip, the highest authority over the Great Wall.

Standing beside him, Jeong Yeon-shin listened silently.

“I was originally a complete amateur when it came to stonework,” Jeon U-rip continued, “but ever since I was assigned to this damned land as its marshal, I’ve had to learn a lot I never wanted to know. Especially since the Demonic Clans’ cavalry charges strike the wall with magong strong enough to shatter it.”

“They say the imperial court used a secret formation that even drew upon the power of the ‘Flame King.’ Judging by the scale, it’s believable. Though, those cursed Heavenly Armor units still break far too easily.”

Looking at this mighty wall, it suddenly makes sense.

That was the Marshal’s concluding remark.

Jeong Yeon-shin gave a faint nod.

A demonic technique that can destroy even the Great Wall...

The term magong was typically used in two cases:

Either when cruel and malicious methods were used to advance one's martial path, or when the technique literally refined demonic energy.

Or—sometimes—to downplay techniques that were simply overwhelmingly powerful.

Jeon U-rip likely meant the latter, and Jeong Yeon-shin found himself reluctantly agreeing. After all, he had just recently faced the Heavenly Armor formations himself.

His gaze drifted toward the other side of the wall.

Far in the distance stood a fortress facing Geyong Pass. Its walls and rooftops were faint, more angular, barely visible.

To the naked eye, it seemed far away. But strategically, it was dangerously close.

Gray smoke now rose in thick, twisting columns from within. That oppressive atmosphere only made the sight more foreboding.

...He withstood the Ascendant Dragon technique.

He had failed to finish off the Lord of Hocheonseong.

He had intended to pierce through the man’s abdomen, but only managed to launch his body beyond the horizon. During the second exchange, the enemy let out a strange, monstrous scream and was flung over the canyon.

The protective qi from the Demon Annihilation Blade had suddenly become as tough as the sinews of Pangu from legend. It was like the flesh of a titan.

That was no ordinary defense.

Even if he had used Yi Gi Yu Geom from a great distance, with only a rough aim.

“What weighs on your mind so heavily?” Jeon U-rip asked casually.

His smile was easy, but his originally sharp lips curled in a gentler arc. A strange mix of emotions flickered faintly in his expression.

A trace of bewilderment at an unexpected situation. A quiet joy at meeting someone who shared his wavelength.

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at him once, then turned his gaze forward again.

“...Neither Beijing nor the North are easy to handle,” said the Acting Leader of the Divine Sword Division.

Jeon U-rip’s eyes twitched slightly. It was a spark of insight. Even while smiling, the Marshal’s eyes still gleamed with latent hostility.

“The Lord of Hocheonseong, wielder of the Demon Annihilation Blade, is a troublesome one indeed.”

“He’s lived an utterly chaotic life. It’s impossible to condense his path into a single technique... ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) But when it comes to body-protection techniques like the Vital Vein Sutra and his Defensive Qi Shell, he’s on par with the top masters. A Han Chinese who bowed to the martial world of the North—rather fitting, I suppose...”

Jeon U-rip trailed off.

His silver armor clinked slightly at the elbow. A clear sign that his killing intent had risen with his internal energy at the mention of Demon Annihilation Blade.

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly realized that the Marshal’s armor was made of the same material as Lightning Blade.

Refined true silver ore, once seen in the formation of the coiled dragon. No one knew where he’d acquired it, but as the head of the empire’s military, it made sense that Jeon U-rip would have such rare armor.

“There, look! They’re coming!”

The sound came from beneath the tower. Soldiers, who had been absentmindedly staring at the gate and at Jeong Yeon-shin, now rushed to open the massive doors of Geyong Pass.

Those running toward them were, of course, the escaped captives from Hocheonseong.

Young men and women, both commoners and warriors. All of them were pale and ghostly, their complexions sickly. Lightning Blade had hovered in the air, escorting them the entire way to the fortress.

Their condition was beyond explanation.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Some of the weary survivors, their eyes sunken, clasped their hands toward the sword in reverence. Lightning Blade spun in place, acknowledging their gesture.

Since departing Mount Wudang, Jeong Yeon-shin’s one and only cherished sword had regained a vigor not seen in ages.

Looking down at them, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke to Jeon U-rip.

“There was a pavilion.”

“It was built out of corpses. Some infused with strong qi, others with faint and flickering traces... It seemed like some kind of formation, though I couldn’t tell exactly what.”

Jeon U-rip let out a flat murmur.

“It’s a northern technique. The spies say they’re common across all their cities.”

“Qi-extraction technique?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked. Jeon U-rip pulled up one corner of his lip indifferently. It was a dryness born of long years.

“It’s a formation designed to quickly drain the energy of the dead into the surrounding land. That region is particularly barren, so without proper medicine, such methods evolved naturally. Those bastards even kill their own to fuel it. Losers in clan wars or sect battles often meet that fate.”

He added with a smirk: “Of course, a well-fed southerner makes for excellent roofing material.”

A dark joke, dripping with the scent of blood.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Lightning Blade sheathed itself neatly at Jeong Yeon-shin’s side.

Jeong Yeon-shin let the recoil flow instinctively through his legs. The faintly burning blue taegeuk that had been circling around him flickered—and vanished with a quiet hiss.

Great Marshal Jeon U-rip seemed deeply intrigued, but surprisingly, like a man well-versed in the customs of the martial world, he didn’t press to learn the secrets of Jeong Yeon-shin’s technique.

He simply spoke with quiet decisiveness.

“It’s an achievement worthy of praise from anyone. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have the power to pull your people out of the Beijing dungeons... but perhaps I can open a few conversations.”

—But shouldn't you rest first?

His final words came through transmission sound.

Jeong Yeon-shin was mildly surprised but showed no reaction. This was a man granted the imperial axe Hwangwol by the late Emperor—a figure whose insight could rival any Purple Rank of Ipwang Fortress.

Now, Hocheonseong was filled with nothing but smoke.

The Slhae Pass beyond it was the same.

Jeong Yeon-shin had truly annihilated three thousand elite warriors of the Demonic Clans in one sweep.

He had struck down the enemy general’s crescent-blade weapon with Yi Gi Yu Geom, turning the blow into a shockwave.

The focus required in that moment had been extreme. He’d felt a pain so intense it was as if his entire flow of qi had been wrenched from his body.

Even now, as dozens of imperial elites gazed at him from atop and below the walls as if seeing the late Emperor reincarnated, he was barely holding himself up thanks to Jeong Family’s Donggong. Without it, he would’ve looked downright miserable.

Even standing still, circulating his energy, his whole body felt heavy.

“Rotational speed of Guanglun has dropped by roughly forty percent. Qi flow in my acupoints and vessels has lost elasticity... The only one doing fine is this guy.”

He gently stroked Lightning Blade, then asked Jeon U-rip,

“Does this camp possess a map of the northern martial world?”

“Of course it does. It’s considered a national treasure and treated as top secret wherever it’s held.”

Jeon U-rip’s eyebrow arched. It wasn’t an empty question. If Jeong Yeon-shin backtracked now, it would be considered never asked.

“A copy I can burn later is fine,” he said.

Chains in the Marshal’s true silver armor rattled softly as Jeon U-rip replied,

“Planning to go undercover?”

“I don’t know yet. But if the Great Marshal advances, I’m willing to follow along the natural expansion line of the army.”

The Ming Empire’s territory would expand.

And if there were more to protect, the imperial court would have no choice but to release Bukgung Ah and Wei Ji-geuk.

Yeochun Lord and Sky Dragon Lord—though one was fierce and the other a bit sly, both were seniors whom the world could not do without.

“Of course, in those stolen northern lands, it’s our southern people—used as roof tiles for corpse-houses—who live as prisoners. But if you move , what happens to the late Emperor’s decree?”

His tone was now strangely formal, as if he were trying to draw a clear line between public duty and personal sentiment. Still, Jeong Yeon-shin’s attitude remained unchanged.

“You’ve heard of the Ipwang Great War Chronicle, haven’t you?”

“Central plains martial world isn’t as dangerously wide as it used to be. And the current lull is due in no small part to the mysterious disappearance of the northern war god.”

As he spoke, Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the air around him. As if speaking to someone unseen.

In truth, he was matching his breath with the unseen wind. Just as he had once sensed the spirit within the Heavenly Demon Armor, in this moment, he was attuned to the subtle breeze unique to Beijing. It was a function of his Upper Dantian.

Jeon U-rip spoke in a low voice, his expression suddenly subdued. He was a man who clearly separated personal feeling from public judgment.

“...So now it’s alright? Since the late Emperor has lost all legitimacy?”

“If the Great Marshal permits it, I’d like to study the map in advance. I have the clearance, don’t I?”

From Black Rank onward, one could view maps of the central plains. Purple Rank could even engage in military planning. As Acting Division Leader, Jeong Yeon-shin needed no permission.

“You’re sounding like the roof of the Forbidden City. No matter what you hang on it, it always looks legitimate...”

The Marshal of the North.

The corners of his eyes—etched deep by the blood-soaked northern winds—crinkled slightly. As if he had finally heard the words he had long awaited. Then he opened his mouth again, his expression flashing for a moment with the savagery of the battlefield.

“Fine. One map it is.”

Jeong Yeon-shin had fully grasped the geography of the northern martial world.

It had come from a covert arrangement made inside the Great Marshal’s command tent.

A burst of blue light flickered across his vision. At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice merged into the wind as a whispered transmission.

—Once, in the Forbidden City, I attuned my senses to the Grand Empress Dowager’s Zaning Palace.

—Please do not alert Her Majesty of my northern departure. This isn’t about imperial authority. It’s about protecting the people. If pride must be preserved, then let the decree come first. Forgive me, but I’ll grant a day’s grace.

A sharp gust of wind sliced across Jeong Yeon-shin’s cheek with three burning words.

“As if safeguarding blood.”

It meant he was no different from Jin Myeong-jo.

It filled Jeong Yeon-shin with a certainty stronger than anything else.

The Deputy Division Leader is in the Imperial Court? In that case...

The Divine Sword of the Empire stood still, burning the map of the northern martial world into his mind.

The lines of that map etched across his thoughts like the paths of a sword.