Chapter 599: Chapter 599

A low chuckle echoed from the vault of ancient knowledge steeped in endless time.

It wasn't Jeong Yeon-shin.

No one in the group had laughed. The sound vanished, swallowed up by the thunderous crash and the hail of rocks pouring down like a storm from the collapsing ceiling.

One of the Five Great Techniques of the World had struck the cave from outside—the ripple of the Dark Heaven Wall Flow of the Ming Sect barreled in all directions.

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly recalled the moment he deciphered the Heavenly Demon Divine Armor of the Mo Yong Clan Lord.

It was the same sensation. Still incomprehensible. Perhaps it was the spiritual resonance infused into the name Heavenly Demon. Something transcendent, inscribed in the ancient scripture, ignoring the bounds of time...

“You’re laughing right now?!”

The Drunken Beggar King barked at Hwangbo Gon. He could only speak that way because they, Ma Yeon-jeok and Eo Ung-gong, were of similar age.

Hwangbo Gon merely shrugged.

“I thought the old beggar had finally gone mad.”

The Drunken Beggar King’s eyes flared, but the expression on Eo Ung-gong, who was carrying him on his back, remained calm. He had gently picked up the Sword Saint, whom he had briefly set down on the ground.

“A man should act his age.”

Chiding them in a youthful voice, he gently stirred the air around him.

The internal energy he circulated didn’t affect the Sword Saint in his arms. A hazy energy veil rose in the shape of a hemisphere and covered them overhead.

The veil wasn’t large.

It formed a translucent shield that covered only himself, the Sword Saint, and the Drunken Beggar King.

As his eyes briefly met Jeong Yeon-shin’s, Eo Ung-gong offered a sheepish excuse.

“Apologies. I’m at my limit too.”

He had just escaped carrying the Drunken Beggar King from the Southern Emperor’s domain—it was no surprise he wasn’t in peak condition.

Especially since all of the Northern Supreme’s techniques left devastating aftereffects.

After all, the reason Jeong Yeon-shin had entrusted even the Sword Saint to Eo Ung-gong and taken the lead was because he had calculated that, even with only a faint aura halo, he could still fight better than anyone in the group.

Jeong Yeon-shin answered as a dim radiance flowed from his eyes. Eo Ung-gong faltered for a moment.

“You’ll be fine... right?”

In the heart of vibrations that seemed to shake the entire earth—

Jeong Yeon-shin looked inward.

Beneath the two faint halos, a third wheel of internal energy had formed around his heart.

It was a composite of demonic arts.

It emitted an ink-black glow from within his body. And of course, it was incredibly thin. Internal energy doesn’t just explode into power from nothing.

No exaggeration—it was about the thickness of a thread. Far too small to generate the vast energy Jeong Yeon-shin typically wielded.

As always, he would need to consume the spirit pills supplied every time he visited the main fortress of Ipwang, and inflate it through constant accumulation.

Just like how he had spent a long time thickening the second aura halo formed when the Tang twins bathed in starlight during the Flood Dragon Formation.

Or like safely arriving at the storage of the Ming Sect’s spiritual elixirs—the so-called Northern Sea Vault—would be another excellent solution.

This also meant his martial strength hadn’t significantly increased at present.

If he didn’t grasp this with objectivity, he risked overestimating his strength and being cut down pointlessly.

Jeong Yeon-shin needed time.

But just like always, “leisure” was the word furthest removed from the martial world.

—We’ve broken through...!

—There! They’re there!

—Kill them! They’re the ones who spied on the studies of the ancestors! Burn their eyes out!

The walls of the massive underground chamber reverberated with shouting as it drew nearer. The voices themselves raced through the air like violent lightness techniques.

The Drunken Beggar King’s expression grew serious.

“We’ll have to prepare for both fronts. Falling rocks from above, and the demon bastards breaking in through the gaps.”

“They’re already close. This whole place is coming down.”

Eo Ung-gong’s response was curt.

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the Sword Saint lying in his arms.

In truth, this third aura halo was just a byproduct in the current situation. What truly mattered was the knowledge needed to save the Sword Saint.

And Jeong Yeon-shin had already mastered the applications and limitations of the Seven Pulses Forbidden Blood Technique.

Naturally, he now understood the essence and subtleties of the technique as practiced by the Murder Sect under the Ming Sect—used on Hyeon Won-chang. And the side effect of shortening one’s lifespan every time the technique was forcibly unsealed.

It came with a bone-deep sense of guilt.

—Ma Gwang-ik was his bodyguard at the time.

For a moment, Hyeon Won-chang’s image overlapped with the Sword Saint’s. Perhaps because they had both been subjected to the same technique. A safely aged Hyeon Won-chang might have looked just Sword Saint.

I can save them both.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought. If he could find rare spiritual medicines, it might truly be possible.

After all, he was now a grandmaster of demonic techniques.

The Sword Saint opened his eyes halfway from Eo Ung-gong’s arms and began mumbling like a drunkard.

“That sky... is fake...”

The words slipped out as he looked up at the crumbling ceiling.

It sounded vaguely meaningful. The Ming Sect had long used the night sky that devoured stars and moons as metaphor.

But the Sword Saint’s wrinkled eyelids drooped shut again. Unlike the overpowering sword strikes he once displayed, there was now only weakness.

Eo Ung-gong’s brow furrowed.

“His pulse is fading. We don’t have time.”

Before anyone noticed, Jeong Yeon-shin was already standing at the entrance they had come through.

Even that short movement had magnified the roaring din pounding in his ears. The steel door’s edges were quickly fracturing from the collision of tyrannical force.

At the same time, Hwangbo Gon stepped up beside him.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“I’m coming too. You saved my life once in the Flood Dragon Formation—I’ll repay you now. It’d be hard for one person to guard three.”

Jeong Yeon-shin felt like a matured Flame Dragon had come to stand by his side. It was honestly reassuring, but he quickly shook his head.

“The Ming Sect Lord might have the answer you seek, Senior Hwangbo. I’ll do what I can to keep that Lotus Demon brat alive, but there’s no reason to cut off other possibilities.”

Jeong Yeon-shin placed his hand on the groove in the steel door. The same gesture he had used when entering.

“Please stay with the Ming Sect. People like you are more needed than ever now.”

The massive steel door opened.

The demon warriors who had been pounding on it from outside were revealed. Each one wore an expression of faint suspicion beneath a thick layer of bloodlust.

No one had expected this. That someone would open the door from the inside.

The wide cave was packed with bodies—too many to count.

Many had disproportionately large hands or feet, or grotesquely darkened eyes that bulged like frogs’. Even those with intact bodies exuded an inhuman chill.

None of them carried weapons.

They must’ve known what would happen if Jeong Yeon-shin got his hands on an armament.

Some of them even seemed to be using Life-for-Life Technique, which caused one’s body to explode like thunder the moment their primal energy scattered upon death.

Dark energy seeped from their entire bodies. Their very nature was like firebombs.

“Come here, Shin Sword Corps Leader!”

“Try crushing this body first!”

They weren’t human martial sects.

They were, in every sense, demons. Their appearances, auras, preparedness, and suicidal tactics—all forged in the abyss.

“Now, all of Jianghu knows the power of your sonic techniques and Yi Gi Yu Geom. The bigger the sect, the more thoroughly they’ll prepare.”

The Drunken Beggar King spoke heavily, then suddenly added with a grim face:

“Take one of my ribs.”

“To be fast enough to be called the Swiftest Under Heaven, you have to temper your bones and muscles first. At the very least, it’s sturdier than your grandfather’s rusty old bones, isn’t it? Go ahead—take it.”

“How could a person even think like that...”

Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head, his black eyes shimmering. Even with the faint demonic energy around him, he remained in full control of his mind.

A dark wind surged toward them. Even as it ripped along the jagged wall, its palm force was unhindered. It tore through the stone wall and barreled forward with overwhelming ferocity.

Dark Heaven Wall Flow.

The strongest of all known demonic palm techniques.

It dyed the glow of the luminous pearls black as it reached Jeong Yeon-shin’s group in a heartbeat.

“Ming Sect Grand Elder!”

The Drunken Beggar King, still blindfolded, had sensed the geography of the underground city and shouted out.

The force suddenly ricocheted off a form that darted in from Jeong Yeon-shin’s side. It deflected cleanly off the back of their hand and flew in the opposite direction.

The demonic warriors blocking Jeong Yeon-shin’s path exploded like firebombs. With a thunderous roar shaking the earth, a path opened before them.

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced to his side—and there stood Hwangbo Gon, flicking his hand with a sly grin like the Flame Dragon. He had used the Heavenly King Martial Art of the Hwangbo Clan.

“I took a wrong turn in the panic and popped out. Almost got pulverized by a blind palm blast.”

—Keep going. I’ll do as you advised and stay behind.

Hwangbo Gon’s voice echoed in his ear.

Jeong Yeon-shin pushed off the ground without hesitation. The subtle light of Ten-League Radiant Leap unfurled beneath his feet. Eo Ung-gong, carrying the two elders, swiftly followed behind.

—Break through the wall to the northwest! Keep running straight!

The Drunken Beggar King’s voice echoed through sound transmission. Jeong Yeon-shin subtly shifted the tip of his foot.

Footprints marked the blood-soaked ground, and even that faint trace was enough for the Ming Sect’s Grand Elder stationed far ahead to shout thunderously.

[The heretics are targeting the Northern Sea Vault! The Three Sovereigns of the Ming Sect will each seal sectors Twenty, Thirty, and Forty. All Wealth Commanders—use the Great Formation laid down by the Sect Leader to cut off external air! Bright Demons, do not charge blindly. Wait at the altar!]

His perception was sharp.

The Grand Elder of the Ming Sect.

Draped in snowy white robes, the old man stood out starkly in the dark cavern—but he didn’t rush at Jeong Yeon-shin.

He simply continued pushing out waves of palm force from a distance.

Kugugung! Kugugugung!

[The enemy has formed spiritual power, so do not approach recklessly! Ranged attacks will suffice! They lack time and energy—and this is our sect’s heartland!]

Despite the overwhelming shockwaves of Sixfold Convergence, there was no sign of collapse in the underground chamber.

Thanks to the vast sorcery array that had transformed this underground into a permanent haven.

His commands were precise.

It was a strategy and scenario applicable to anyone but Moon Gok of the Liu Yuan Star Generals and his Heavenly Moon Dance.

This truly was the core of the strongest of the Thirteen Heavens.

Jeong Yeon-shin shattered a wall with his left hand and simultaneously burst the air with his right. Just that was enough to extinguish the Dark Heaven Wall Flow launched from afar—snuffed out like a weak candle.

He could do so because his technique had innate superiority over demonic force, and the Grand Elder had remained distant.

Ming Sect warriors flooding in through web-like tunnels hesitated.

The looks they gave Jeong Yeon-shin were as though they’d seen some unearthly specter. Naturally—his very presence rendered a lifetime of cultivated internal energy meaningless.

That’s why, even with just faint halos around him, Jeong Yeon-shin moved like an invincible force. The sprint of Ten-League Radiant Leap never stopped.

The damp wind of the underground lashed against his face.

Fragments occasionally burst from the tunnel walls, scraping his bare skin. Jeong Yeon-shin was charging through the massive subterranean passage without even wrapping himself in body-guarding energy.

He simply didn’t have the strength. Two of his halos had lost density from repeated high-level clashes. The third was newly formed, still requiring time.

Any ranged palm force thrown by enemies could be broken with a mere flick of inner energy. Even a particularly strong middle-aged attacker’s wind blade slashing at him from the left—

The impact was heavier this time. The assailant was close and possessed nearly Black Triple Steel-level power. A man full of fierce vitality.

“I am Purger of Calamity, one of the Three Sovereign Lords of the Ming Sect’s Vanguard. I’ve come to scoop out your skull.”

His composed madness stood out.

They were less than three jang apart—a close range even for expert martial artists.

But Jeong Yeon-shin ignored him, passing by with a hand gesture behind his back to stop Eo Ung-gong from following. The shockwave fell with a crash and tore a long trench into the ground.

Those chasing behind froze once more.

Jeong Yeon-shin had previously faced Pure Demonic Sect, a Ming Sect offshoot. Even if these enemies were of the Ming Sect's main line, none of them individually could surpass the Sect Lord of Pure Demonic Sect.

He ran through the uninhabited zone.

Ten jang wide, fifteen jang, nine, three, then over ten again... Jeong Yeon-shin raced through the ever-widening underground corridor like it was open plains, smashing through walls whenever they appeared.

When figures like the Grand Elder or Purger of Calamity hurled swordlike wind blades, he struck them down with a hand chop alongside the earth.

“How can such a person even exist?!”

And so, guided by the Drunken Beggar King’s famed sensory technique Divine Glutton Never Dies Method, Jeong Yeon-shin’s group reached another massive steel door.

A soft medicinal aroma seeped from the cracks.

“This is it! We’ve made it!”

The Drunken Beggar King shook Eo Ung-gong’s shoulder.

Kangma Pills, Soaring Heaven Elixir, the inner core of Ten-Thousand-Year Flame Pears... all kinds of rare elixirs the Ming Sect has gathered will be inside! This, this is truly something that should’ve been impossible...!"

The ground beneath them trembled violently.

The wall surrounding the Ming Sect’s medicine storage—the Northern Sea Vault—began to collapse as if it were a lie. As if thunderbombs had exploded inside and out.

In an instant, dust filled the air. Massive boulders tumbled down and completely obscured the pitch-black steel door.

An unbelievable sight.

This wasn’t like when the Heavenly Demon Secret Treasury opened. The Northern Sea Vault had been destroyed before Jeong Yeon-shin could even approach it.

This wasn’t a strategy of sacrificing flesh to take bone—it was total denial. Rather than let the enemy gain anything, they destroyed it so neither side could have it.

It was madness, again.

[We cannot suffer humiliation twice. We've already sinned against our forebears. Even if we die—we’ll take you with us.]

The Grand Elder’s Sixfold Convergence whispered behind them like a shadow. He was walking from afar—through the path Jeong Yeon-shin had carved.

“This is a damn chaotic start. That man might be more of a demon than us.”

The voice of Purger of Calamity joined in.

At this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin’s group stood in a tunnel roughly thirty jang from the destroyed Northern Sea Vault.

With openings on every side, it resembled a plaza.

Perhaps it was thanks to the Ming Sect’s iron-smithing techniques—

The width spanned over ten jang, and the ceiling was tall enough to house a two-story pavilion. As if Invincible Little Heaven had raised a flood dragon here.

Jeong Yeon-shin silently turned around.

What he saw—the shadows creeping in from the far tunnel. The Ming Sect’s martial army, driving them into a final trap.

Eo Ung-gong adjusted the Drunken Beggar King on his back.

“We’re surrounded. Never even got the chance to regulate our breathing.”

Now revealed—the true body of the greatest sect among the Thirteen Heavens.

The original plan was to escape after seizing the Ming Sect’s elixirs and use them to heal the Sword Saint. There was no other way.

But it had always carried great risk. With both secret treasuries and medicine vaults destroyed, how savage would the Ming Sect become?

[Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin, I know your inner energy has run dry.]

The Grand Elder’s voice grew louder. He was closing in. And this time, he was prepared to fight hand-to-hand.

[You’ve destroyed two of the world’s greatest treasure vaults. Even if I die—I will drag you to the afterlife. At least here, in this place, it’s possible.]

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t listen.

His body was in such disarray, he could barely pick up on sound transmissions. There was no point paying attention to his enemy’s voice. Especially not when the Divine Sword Corps’ Thunder likely lay in the hands of Invincible Little Heaven.

He simply gauged which of his two techniques was more suitable: Illuminated Disruption, which invoked illusions by rubbing demonic energy against spiritual force, or Sky-Piercer, the technique he was still perfecting.

I’m used to fighting from desperation.

Suddenly, a pale light erupted from the ceiling. Eo Ung-gong, standing beside Jeong Yeon-shin, had summoned the glow, sweeping it in a circle above their heads.

A mysterious palm force.

In the blink of an eye, it surrounded the group in a dome, warding off the raining rocks. Each boulder was massive. As if Eo Ung-gong had poured out all his strength in an instant.

The Ming Sect warriors tightening the encirclement were pushed back.

Jeong Yeon-shin frowned in confusion. Eo Ung-gong had been carrying the Sword Saint—how had he done it...?

“So Baek did as you suggested.”

The moment Eo Ung-gong’s youthful voice rang out, Jeong Yeon-shin snapped his head around like a thunderclap—and before he’d even fully turned, his body froze.

A warm hand had struck one of his vital points.

The very hand he’d once dodged countless times when the old man had tried to carry him.

“Why search for the world’s greatest treasure in the wrong place?”

The voice was aged. It was the Sword Saint. His words came gently.

“The life of an old man—surely it’s the rarest treasure in the world. One I possess... and you wish to have.”

The Sword Saint’s palm pressed against the center of Jeong Yeon-shin’s back—his Life Gate Acupoint.

In that instant, a line from a vagabond Jeong had met in the Ming Sect flashed through his mind.

—A wandering man who lives to old age must have martial skill even the Northern Kings of the Demon Realm couldn’t imagine.

“Vagabonds don’t waste energy. They’ve lived too long without anything to spare. This includes Transmission Through the Body.”

Transmission Through the Body.

A method of transferring inner energy to another. A forbidden art of extreme physical toll. Most sects abandoned it due to the immense loss of energy in the process.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes widened.

He no longer had Thunder, his lifelong partner. No time to cultivate a new halo. And he didn’t want to lose the Sword Saint, one of the greatest swordsmen alive.

“I’ve already removed the large needles embedded in me. They were getting annoying.”

But peerless masters lived their lives on their own terms. They never listened to others—that’s precisely why they reached such heights.

The old swordsman’s voice flowed steadily. A low hum like a storm passed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s Life Gate Acupoint.

“...must hold a sword.”

—and began to swell, vast as the night sky.