Huff—
The village gatekeeper belatedly gasped for breath.
Just as he was on the brink of death, his eyes caught sight of a breathtakingly handsome young man, faintly shrouded in mist-like energy.
It was something no martial artist could have ever imagined.
Protective energy was an internal martial technique that was integrated with a warrior's body, it was by no means a mere piece of clothing.
Even the one who cast it would find it nearly impossible to transfer it onto another. The very idea of it being forcibly taken was inconceivable.
Unless one was born with an innate ability to completely perceive the flow of energy and possessed an indescribable mastery over internal force control.
"Who… are you?"
A figure of high standing even within the great Golden Wings Sect.
The reaction of Spirit-Melting Divine Fist was, of course, one of shock. His very first move had already been disrupted, and though he should have immediately followed up with a second strike, his body remained frozen in place, naturally hesitating.
Jung Yeonshin did not answer but furrowed his brows slightly.
The mist-like energy that enshrouded his entire body, the protective energy that constantly threatened to scatter, was something he was now mending with his own energy, as if weaving it into fabric.
It was a crucial task.
Through this, he examined the weaknesses inherent in low-grade protective energy.
Rather than absorbing impact, its energy structure focused more on maximizing the shock of an offensive strike. The outer layer was fairly solid, yet the energy flowing within was in constant motion.
'It writhes around annoyingly.'
Wanyang's internal energy was strange. It was said that he had trained in the Heavenly Dragon Slaughtering Art, and indeed, his energy had an inherently radiating nature.
Unlike the internal techniques of the Tang siblings, which relied on the natural energy infused into this mysterious place, his energy seemed designed to endlessly expand outward, as if the art itself had been created in such an environment.
'In any case, I won't be using this again.'
Jung Yeonshin thought.
The technique of stripping an opponent's protective energy and donning it oneself.
If attempted in a life-and-death battle among absolute masters where Surpassing Limits Martial Arts ran rampant, it would most likely lead to an instant counterstrike and death. Unless his opponent was a dumbfounded monkey, he wouldn't have another chance to use it.
"You… monstrous bastard… how could such a thing…!"
Wanyang's eyes trembled slightly as he stared at Jung Yeonshin from up close.
They were within close-combat range.
Had Jung Yeonshin immediately launched another attack, Wanyang would have had no chance to resist and would have suffered a fatal wound. The convulsions in his eyes revealed his humiliation.
At the same time, he seemed to have reached a conclusion.
"You are truly Tang Manyun? I've never heard of such an unorthodox technique being passed down within the Tang Clan's martial lineage."
Even if Jung Yeonshin thought otherwise, those who had reached the realm of supreme masters were, without exception, geniuses of the martial world.
Though pride, temperament, personal history, or environment might occasionally cloud their judgment, their fundamental insight was razor-sharp.
Wanyang was no exception.
"Come to think of it, the sect leader spoke of your Full Sky Flower Rain as well…"
He muttered to himself.
The Guardian of the Golden Wings Sect had seen through the essence of Lightning Genius' martial lineage.
Rather than trusting their martial arts to overcome crises, individuals of this lineage unconsciously adapted their techniques to the circumstances. A disposition so foreign that no martial artist could help but find it unnatural.
Jung Yeonshin felt a sting in his gut. The Golden Wings Sect's leader had already pointed out the nature of Full Sky Flower Rain to him.
But he did not reveal any emotion. Just as he always had in his childhood within the Jung Clan Manor.
The one wearing a furious expression was Wanyang. He seemed just as enraged as he was shocked by Jung Yeonshin's internal energy manipulation.
After all, he was a devoted follower of the Golden Wings Sect's leader, admiring her so much that he had even acted as her personal attendant. Rather than grasping the deeper implications of the situation, he responded to his immediate emotions.
"So, you deceived the sect leader. Now that I think about it… the fact that only you three ended up here with me after the Great Ritual… this is no ordinary coincidence. It must have been your doing!"
His muttering turned into an accusatory outburst. Wanyang straightened his stance and glared at Jung Yeonshin.
"Who are you? What is your purpose in impersonating a Tang bloodline? Judging by your bizarre talent, the Full Sky Flower Rain you displayed back then must have been nothing more than a trivial trick rather than an authentic Tang Clan mnemonic technique!"
"Does it matter?"
Jung Yeonshin calmly responded to Wanyang's fury.
Facing the Spirit-Melting Divine Fist, the very person who had struck terror into the clans of the Mysterious Place, his indifferent expression and words felt more like provocation.
Even the guards stationed at the stone wall behind them, standing awkwardly in place, held their breath.
"You arrogant bastard! Just because you gained an advantage in one exchange, do you think you're now the—"
"It is your Golden Wings Sect that should be worried."
Jung Yeonshin, who had been silently listening, finally opened his lips.
"Did you think you could use the warriors of Desolate Fortress as human sacrifices and get away with it?"
"What?"
At the moment when confusion flickered in Wanyang's eyes, which had been gleaming with immense internal energy, Jung Yeonshin leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"I am the Radiant Demon Squad's leader."
"…!"
Spirit-Melting Divine Fist was a supreme master of Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown.
His reaction was swift.
Just as Wanyang's eyes widened and he attempted to once again envelop himself in protective energy—
Swish.
Jung Yeonshin's left hand seized the back of his hair and forced his head down. There was no more room for courtesy.
At that instant, beneath the Yongcheon Acupoint of his sole, the signature pale glow of Ten Li Radiance Step flickered. Using it as a propulsion force, his knee rocketed into Wanyang's face.
Boom!
A deafening sound followed the strike. The sound had lagged behind the attack itself.
A translucent, circular shockwave burst from the knee strike, knocking over the guards standing around them.
They could not get back up. The shockwaves between Wanyang and Jung Yeonshin continued to ripple outward.
Boom! Boom! KABOOM!
Wanyang could not withstand Jung Yeonshin's Golden Immortal Eight Methods, his techniques refined through rebirth.
Once, twice, thrice—each time his face rebounded upward from the force of the knee strike, it was crushed back down again.
KA-BOOM!
Wanyang attempted to retaliate, continuously generating powerful waves of force through his limbs. However, the form of Heavenly Dragon Slaughtering Art, which should have been fully projected and unleashed, was shattered before it could even take shape.
Dozens of formless threads extended from Jung Yeonshin's body, unraveling Wanyang's projected energy the moment it was released.
It was the sublimity of the Sword of the Heart.
Thus, ten more knee strikes followed.
Jung Yeonshin had never named this technique, but even so, it was a martial art in its own right.
The martial discipline of patience, holding back until finally reaching the goal, then exploding in full force. It carried traces of the inspiration he had gained from defeating Eun Hwaryun, First Fist of the Eun Clan.
'All I'm doing is accumulating unnecessary techniques.'
Releasing Wanyang's hair, Jung Yeonshin thought to himself.
'What I should be perfecting is Surpassing Limits Martial Arts.'
Blood pooled around Wanyang's face, which lay collapsed on the ground.
His protective energy, unable to withstand the repeated waves of force, had completely shattered. It had been nothing more than a poorly constructed internal energy barrier.
"You'll need to be alive for the way back. Don't act recklessly."
Jung Yeonshin spoke, casting a glance down at Wanyang.
There was no response. Only the faintest sound of breath could be heard.
"Great hero, you…?"
The leader of the gate guards, wearing an expression of disbelief, cautiously asked.
His voice carried extreme caution as he glanced between Wanyang, who was unable to move, and Jung Yeonshin, who stood calmly in place.
His gaze betrayed his doubts.
Jung Yeonshin, suppressing an uncharacteristic sense of irritation, found himself briefly lost in thought.
Not because of their stares, but because of his own martial prowess, which had become far stronger since his rebirth.
He wondered.
'Have I finally caught a glimpse of Violet Dawn?'
At that moment—
"Tang Manyun, no… Radiant Demon Squad's leader…"
A voice came from below. It was Wanyang.
His breath, disrupted by internal injuries, came in irregular gasps, but his unyielding determination was unmistakable.
It was clear now why the Golden Wings Sect was counted among the Thirteen Celestial Demons.
"Join us."
Wanyang said.
"You are the one. If you fully ally with us, together we can capture the Flood Dragon…"
"You bastard!"
Suddenly, the gatekeeper let out a furious curse.
"The Flood Dragon is gone! That inhuman being no longer exists here! It disappeared long ago!"
"What?"
"Such supernatural entities never remain in one place! It is a dragon precisely because it is an illusion, unreachable by human hands! Do you really think a being of that nature would ever be caught by martial artists like you, blinded by obsession? That is the height of delusion!"
"What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you—"
"This place has long since become a hellscape where warriors from all over the world, driven by the same purpose as you, spill blood over the nonexistent inner elixir of a vanished creature!"
With a fleeting glance at Jung Yeonshin, the gatekeeper spoke with suppressed intensity, enunciating each word.
"The only ones left in this place are humans. The so-called 'predecessors' who refuse to accept reality have split this land among themselves, calling themselves the Twin Kings and the Three Lords, clinging to their past glories. Outside, the Kunlun Sect, which was believed to have been annihilated, lingers. The former leaders of the Hebei Peng Clan and the Hwangbo Clan, who entered before you, have all succumbed to the same madness. Like you, they believe the Flood Dragon's departure is merely temporary, and they drench this shrinking land in blood, fearing its inevitable collapse."
"..."
A moment of silence followed.
Wanyang said nothing more.
Jung Yeonshin paid him no mind. From the very beginning, he had only one goal.
"I am Jung Yeonshin. I come from Desolate Fortress."
He introduced himself in the tone one might use when speaking to an ignorant commoner.
For those who had lived in this mystical battlefield for too long, it was possible they had never even heard of the greatest martial sect under the heavens.
"Desolate Fortress?"
"Then his martial prowess makes sense…"
"But he looks so young. He's not even from one of the great noble clans."
"Jung Yeonshin! His name is Jung Yeonshin! He says he's from Desolate Fortress!"
The sunlight shimmered across Jung Yeonshin's features, casting an aura around him that even he was unaware of.
The moment he stepped forward, the heavy atmosphere shifted.
The murmuring gradually swelled.
The gate guards standing along the stone wall, and even the dozens of villagers gathered below, gazing up at him, all began whispering.
"Jung Yeonshin?"
"He is our benefactor?"
Step.
The Tang siblings, who had been watching the battle unfold in an instant, climbed atop the stone fortress.
As they ascended, Venomous Dragon and Venomous Phoenix caught sight of the celestial glow flickering in Jung Yeonshin's upper dantian.
The overwhelming sight left them speechless, and they could not bring themselves to ask for his identity again.
—Is he truly our junior?
The voice rang out with such tremendous internal energy that the very air vibrated.
WHOOOOSH—!
From the center of the village, all the way to the outskirts.
A massive figure crossed well over a hundred meters with a single cloud-stepping motion.
Thud—!
In an instant, he landed atop the stone fortress, sending up a cloud of dust.
There was no recoil from his landing.
A towering giant, clad in black robes, gazed down at Jung Yeonshin.
"I received reports that outsiders had appeared throughout the region,"
He said.
"Your presence felt familiar, but now that I see you, I know for certain—you are not the Lightning Genius I knew."
His voice was as thick and deep as his body, like an echo from a cavern.
His very existence was overwhelming.
Even his sharp, pointed ears and massive frame were reminiscent of a pureblood noble clan.
His wildly unkempt hair, swept back to reveal a broad forehead, added to his feral presence.
Forest Striding Squad's leader.
Thousand Fist Dragon Force Minister, Xiahou Wei-Jin.
A faint smile formed at the corner of Jung Yeonshin's lips.
Jung Yeonshin revealed his Radiant Wheel energy.
For a brief moment, he even mimicked the movements he had once clumsily created, back when he had been deceived into thinking Xiahou Wei-Jin had simply failed to perform them due to ignorance.
Recalling that embarrassing memory from the past—
—The meridians of our body are truly mysterious. Simply by adjusting one's internal energy and muscles from a distance, the energy reaching the plantar fascia naturally gains elasticity. That's how the Twelve Major Meridians are interconnected. I do not understand why you never incorporated this. If your martial arts system had a specific reason for excluding it...
—…Because I didn't know.
'I truly believed him because he was a senior.'
It was only after meeting the Blood Preservation Squad's leader that he realized how many elders had protected the dignity of their juniors.
Looking back on it now, it was actually a fond memory.
Jung Yeonshin entered the village alongside the Tang siblings and the half-dead Wanyang.
The villagers, all from the Iron Tribe, welcomed him enthusiastically.
Some even lifted up luminous silver ingots, which were not ordinary black iron.
"Be sure to visit my shop! That sword you're wearing looks like it's about to break soon! Just by examining the blade waves, I can tell it has withstood immense repeated impacts!"
"Grandfather, they say he's the Radiant Demon Squad's leader!"
"Ma Yeonjeok actually lived long enough to see a grandchild? Given his temper, I thought for sure he was doomed to die young…"
"He must be an incredible master as well, right?"
"But isn't anyone worried? This must not reach the ears of the Twin Kings and Three Lords…"
The entire village was buzzing with energy.
It was natural—after all, the place was surrounded by forges.
The constant hammering of metal blended with rising smoke, filling the sky.
Weapons, freshly forged with razor-sharp edges, were scattered haphazardly on various racks, creating a rather mystical sight.
Jung Yeonshin followed the long dirt path leading to the village chief's hall, entering after Xiahou Wei-Jin, who rarely spoke to him.
"So."
The Forest Striding Squad's leader sat in a lavishly spacious room, one large enough to accommodate his massive frame.
The village chief's seat, shockingly, was a grand, golden throne, one that seemed more suited for a royal family than a mere village.
Seated in such luxury, Xiahou Wei-Jin stared at Jung Yeonshin for a long while before slowly opening his mouth.
"The former leader—is he doing well? It must have been a very long time."
"My grandfather is in good health."
"Has he… experienced any decline due to age?"
His casual question carried an odd sense of hope.
"…What?"
Sitting across from him, Jung Yeonshin reflexively asked back.