Chapter 565: Chapter 565

The Guanghon Mountain Range of the North.

It was also known as the “Plain Standing in the Sky.” Because its high, vast peaks formed a closely connected terrain.

At this moment, the gray stone walls surrounding the city of Soul Annihilation—where Northern King Yaryul clashed with one of the Liu Yuan Star Generals, the Southern Emperor—were built atop that very terrain.

Amidst rooftops that jutted up like curved blades.

Northern cities were often sites of battle.

Most conflicts ended with crushed skulls or severed necks, and due to the nature of Yozoku martial arts, wide spacing was often required.

That’s why most northern cities had spacious plazas. They served as martial arenas, execution grounds, and dueling stages all in one.

The open ground now marked by a faint blue ring was one such place. A single sword, blazing in blue, emitted a fierce, pulsing pressure.

Tonight, the city of Soul Annihilation was strange.

The lanterns that should’ve lit the window sills had been swallowed by darkness.

Only the blue flame cast its light in a perfect circle around itself. Its crackling spread softly through the night like a campfire’s whisper.

[The Formless Blade...?]

The Southern Emperor murmured.

His Unified Martial Power maintained itself as naturally as a general’s command on the battlefield. It was as though every word and action he uttered was part of a martial technique.

[Is your core martial art a sword technique?]

It felt like he was on the verge of grasping some hidden truth.

His familiarity with Ju Gwang-shin-gae, what he’d heard about the Blue Flame, the edict of the former Emperor Gunreung now known across the land, the shallow perception used to gauge someone’s nature—it all seemed to give rise to a particular speculation.

Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.

“Still not fully sharpened.”

From the center of the blue taiji, the blazing sword scattered like heat haze, and part of it seeped back into Jeong Yeon-shin’s body.

At the same time, the heavy pressure that had been weighing down from all sides vanished like a dream.

Perhaps it was because when he descended into the domain of the blue taiji, he had been fully consumed by thoughts of how to defeat the Southern Emperor.

The blade being forged in Jeong Yeon-shin’s heart had briefly revealed itself. Borrowing the mysterious function of the Southern Vast Taiji.

Dark Night Bloodshine Demon Sword.

After acquiring the strongest Formless Blade formula of the Divine Sword Corps, Jeong Yeon-shin realized he needed a unique martial technique to use when Yeoroe wasn’t in hand.

He was racking his brain, struggling fiercely to draw out a blade that wouldn’t shame the authority of Jin Myeong-jo. Subconsciously fighting at his utmost.

‘This is the secret passed down by my senior. I have to shape it into something truly mine.’

That’s why his Formless Blade was incomplete.

It wasn’t yet meant to carry true spiritual resonance. Only after completing the world’s most mysterious internal energy structure could it be unleashed into the world.

Meanwhile, the shadow veiling the Southern Emperor’s face stared silently at Jeong Yeon-shin.

[You’re as hard to grasp as the Cult Leader.]

“Surprised? Your martial art seems to rely on composure. You’ll need to control your breathing well.”

Jeong Yeon-shin probed the Southern Emperor in return.

He had sensed something during their brief exchange of fist and foot. About the Southern Emperor’s martial foundation, which drifted between arcane sorcery and orthodox internal force projection.

But the top martial artist of the North let out a low chuckle and changed the subject.

[You show no shame revealing an unfinished skill. I know types like you. Difficult if you want them to be, easy if you don’t.]

“That Heaven-Piercing Armor of yours says a lot about your nature too. Even with overflowing power, you like killing people efficiently. Your offensive route must be extremely short.”

[Perhaps. First I’ll extend the trajectory of my strike, and throw in plenty of feints. That’s how you kill those who think like you, easily.]

Their conversation dripped with killing intent.

It was because both knew they wouldn’t reach a conclusion easily. They read each other through experience and intuition.

Each weaving terrifyingly complex internal energy into their hands and feet.

The sound of energy friction broke through the dense dark.

The Southern Emperor’s pitch-black Heaven-Piercing Armor didn’t permit short-term combat. Even as the Northern King, Yaryul had to prepare for a prolonged battle.

Yet the jet-black eyes behind Jeong Yeon-shin’s silver mask remained calm from start to finish.

Somehow, it didn’t feel like when he had faced the Master of Cheongeuk Gate, the Sword Tyrant, or Yong Hui-myeong. Even though one misstep here could mean death.

‘Have I become arrogant...?’

Or maybe, he himself didn’t fully understand what would happen when the Southern Vast Taiji was added to his unfinished martial art.

Or perhaps—his opponent wasn’t the true Southern Emperor.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

When fighting a practitioner of sorcery, one always had to consider every variable.

If the top martial artist of the North was now standing in for the vanished God of War, perhaps even a fraction of his soul, channeled through spiritual resonance, could produce this level of power.

Creating a clone with internal force and spiritual resonance, and then wrapping that body in the secret Heaven-Piercing Armor.

‘This would be the worst-case scenario. No matter what, I have to win overwhelmingly.’

Jeong Yeon-shin felt the Southern Vast Taiji rising within him like a cloud, as he thought. It was the spiritual resonance of the Old Sword Immortal, meant to nullify every recoil from his unfolding secret techniques.

Many had long since awakened and surrounded the area. The radiant blue flame, impossible to approach, faintly lit up their faces and weapons.

Northern martial artists.

Their thick-skinned faces were still twisted in disbelief from the Southern Emperor’s appearance.

It was a natural reaction.

It was as if one of the stars of the northern sky had descended in person. And from a dizzying height at that.

Shin So-bin was among the crowd.

She felt a faint trembling from the wooden sword case strapped to her back. The vibration of the Divine Sword, Yeoroe.

‘They say swords with spirit want to return to their master. Is that what this is?’

Fortunately, it wasn’t the violent agitation typical of flying sword techniques. Her gaze turned elsewhere. To a small space where another clearing had been made.

An eight-foot-tall woman leaning against a pregnant warhorse. Watching the standoff between Jeong Yeon-shin and the Southern Emperor.

It was the King of Dragon Resonance, the ruler of this Guanghon Mountain territory.

She was the only unmatched master unaffected by the energy from the two clashing figures. The most overwhelming presence among the crowd—enough that snow refused to fall near her.

‘They say all Northern Kings are monsters...’

But the King of Dragon Resonance’s expression seemed strangely conflicted.

She had pledged support to Jeong Yeon-shin after his declaration of war in Whirling Wind Hollow, yet now, upon witnessing the incarnation of the top martial artist of the North—the successor of the God of War—her heart seemed to waver.

Was this the sign of betrayal?

The Sword Saint Hyun So-baek and the Ice Emperor of the North Sea Ice Palace had both left Guanghon Mountain on their own errands.

If the King of Dragon Resonance turned her back on Northern King Yaryul, everything here would be for nothing.

Worse yet, retreat would become the only option. Shin So-bin would end up bundled into Jeong Yeon-shin’s arms like baggage—just like during the Bloodflame Cult’s ambush.

‘No. I won’t let that happen.’

She was now a member of the Divine Sword Corps, and all elite warriors of the corps had one essential duty.

To ensure Jeong Yeon-shin could face the enemy leader in single combat. This wasn’t just the mission of Vice Commander Jin Myeong-jo.

Shin So-bin whispered a secret transmission and stepped lightly toward the King of Dragon Resonance.

—I know an internal technique that’s even effective on prized warhorses... It’s a family secret.

A beautiful young man followed a transparent woman.

A man so striking in appearance that even the headwind of his dash became a painted backdrop, and a king whose translucent body fluttered alongside a black veil and black hair. These two—each ruling over vast territories under the name "Shame King."

The Dream Phantom Lord of the Shame King’s Domain, and the Abyssal Fiend King.

Both bore the dignity of a sovereign and a northern king, and along the path of their charge, the mountains groaned as a massive avalanche spread in hazy white waves.

It was a fitting aftermath—these were some of the strongest beings in the North, known for their unyielding inner force and defensive energy.

“Did you say Whirling Wind Hollow favors King Yaryul? Really? Then we shouldn’t be backing the Southern Emperor either, should we?”

“I’m just amazed. Thankfully, most of the northern kings enjoy claiming the heads of those they like...”

“Did you also feel affection for the Divine Sword Corps’ Heavenly Dragon warriors? You were particularly eager back then. I believe there were even a few young women.”

“No? The Shame King's daughter is everything to me. As for the Heavenly Dragon friends... they were entertaining in their own way, but too savage. Dreams alone weren't enough. I preferred the feel of snapping necks with my own hands. The way blood-stained blue robes fluttered in the sky...”

They descended upon a snow-covered peak. The cold sunlight shattered in transparent rays, and the altitude was so high it brushed the clouds—everything was bathed in white.

A guest awaited them.

A short greeting welcomed them.

A massive man lay sprawled across the snow like it was a blanket. His thick arm served as a pillow behind his head, bulging with muscle like molten lava coursing through stone.

And yet, he didn’t appear sluggish.

His frame was so enormous that, despite limbs as thick as tree trunks, he somehow gave off an overwhelming sense of agility.

The Dream Phantom Lord’ eyes widened.

“I’ve heard there’s a name for me now. They’re calling me Wuge these days, aren’t they?”

“Must be that old bastard Bukdo’s doing.”

Bare feet pounded into the snow. His skin was faded like ash had been rubbed all over it—his face, too, seemed dulled like soot.

Beside him lay a massive hammer, at least one jang in length, swallowing the winter sunlight.

Its silver head was as large as a siege ram, and from the back of the hammer, a sharp blue blade drooped like hair.

He was the fifth of the Six Northern Stars.

A peerless master with a deep wanderlust, one who always defied the God of War. Outside of Northern Jianghu, only two of the Liu Yuan Star Generals belonged to the anti-War God faction—and he was one.

“I only dropped by Mount Zhu Mu Lang Ma for a bit, and already there’s so much to see. It’s been so long since fighting became boring because of that damn war god...”

“You’re not a northern king aligned with Whirling Wind Hollow, so why are you here?”

“This isn’t a dream, Dream Phantom Lord. Don’t try speaking to me without permission. I’ll crush your skull.”

The Dream Phantom Lord shut his mouth.

At that moment, Wuge tilted his head on his arm-pillow. He was gazing up at the sky.

“Is that it? The ghost who rules the West. As soon as the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) Southern Emperor moved, all these damn things started reacting.”

The Dream Phantom Lord snapped his head upward.

A Han woman sat in lotus position within the swirling black threads of a storm cloud. Her form was like that of an immortal, yet a terrible aura leaked from her entire being.

She was easily several hundred jang high in the sky.

But even from that distance, her face was overwhelmingly beautiful—just like the Moonlight Martial Art wielded by northern kings. Even her bored, half-lidded eyes turned the sky into a breathtaking view.

She was So Cheonmujuk, the Cult Leader of the Myung Sect.

At this moment, she was overlooking one side of the Guanghon Mountain Range. Next to her stood an old man walking on air like her, holding an old sword beneath her chin.

A check against natural disaster was in progress. The Dream Phantom Lord fell into a grim silence.

“King Yaryul’s Great Warrior...!”

“Yaryul? He must be quite skilled. That old man certainly isn’t ordinary.”

It was the murmur of the young Liu Yuan Star General, Wuge.

The appearance of the Six Northern Stars.

The descent of the Cult Leader So Cheonmujuk, strongest in the West.

Northern kings plotting to use King Yaryul through countless hidden agendas, and the Great Warriors who moved the world from behind their respective sovereigns.

The flow of the era was gathering.

At the same time, a great tremor rose from below one of the distant peaks.

The Dream Phantom Lord turned his head like a lightning bolt.

He caught a glimpse of it—just barely.

Wuge and the Shame King were already looking down toward the source of the tremor.

The same direction the Cult Leader had been observing with her sword resting under her chin.

It was the city within the Guanghon Mountain Range, shrouded in thick black smoke.

Darkness heaved like a sea of clouds. Like thunder sealed inside storm clouds, multiple explosive reverberations rang out. As though a chain burst of martial techniques had been set off.

Wuge and the Shame King muttered simultaneously.

“...The origin of the technique is untraceable.”

‘Can the kings see what’s happening inside?’

Before the Dream Phantom Lord could voice his thought—

A crack tore through the mountain range.

The darkness covering the city splintered into shreds, and a vast avalanche split the snowy mountains all the way to the peak where the Dream Phantom Lord and his group stood. The titanic tremor echoed faintly, forcing the Lord to stumble back.

“What the hell... it only looks dramatic on the outside—”

He was mumbling defensively when—

The city below the peak came into clear view. At the center, a taiji symbol drawn in blue flame shone vividly.

A young man in a silver mask stood, lifting a being of pure darkness by both shoulders. Darkness wrinkled in his glowing blue hands like crumpled cloth.

There was no mistaking it.

It was the Heaven-Piercing Armor of the top Liu Yuan Star General.

‘The Southern Emperor...?!’

The Dream Phantom Lord internally cried out, eyes wide. And then—the image of the Southern Emperor tore clean in half, like paper.

He was split completely.

His body, divided in two, scattered like smoke. Instead of a shockwave, only a faint whisper remained—audible only through long-distance hearing techniques.

[You’re not the only one skilled in Reverse Breath, Returning Pulse. Just wait. Now that I know who you are.]

“So it was Won Yeong-shin.”

King Yaryul muttered to himself, self-mockingly.

Even after ripping apart the principle of darkness with both arms, he did not seem satisfied. His silhouette remained clearly visible even from afar.

Standing still after tearing the Southern Emperor apart, quietly basking in the sunlight.

The Dream Phantom Lord opened his mouth to address his king but fell silent. No matter whose side one survived by stabbing in the back, right now, it was impossible to decide whose line to follow.

The illusion of the War God was overlapping.

The one-eyed cripple known as the God of Battle, spreading his arms wide.

It was surely a vision visible only to the northern martial artists in this moment.

RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE!

Meanwhile, the blue taiji let out a thunderous roar as it vanished, coiling into itself.