Jeong Yeon-shin extended his senses toward the distant Shaolin grounds. Even focusing all his awareness on the immediate opponent wasn’t enough, yet he couldn’t ignore the Venerable Wonjeok, who was resisting ‘Union.’ If the Venerable Wonjeok, one of the Four Diamond Arhats, were to go on a rampage, the qi supply of the Hundred and Eight Arhats Formation might be cut off within Shaolin.

But before that—

‘Let’s hope the World Tree hasn’t overtaken his consciousness.’

He’d owed him more than once, and remembered the Azure Water True Person’s youthful air vividly. A master or Taoist whose purity had dulled like that— such a sight always stirred deep sorrow in the viewer.

It gave the sense that the chaos of the era had only deepened.

‘If Master suffers a great shock, the Venerable might awaken...’

A distant hope. What could possibly make it happen? And yet, hard to abandon.

Something had soaked into Jeong Yeon-shin’s journey through Jianghu like rain—eventually becoming a personal creed.

Words he truly felt and accepted for himself:

—Do not compromise.

The young Taoist’s voice echoed in his ears. It would always be so. He had no intention of sacrificing civilians for escalation. Not only Venerable Wonjeok—he meant to bring Azure Water True Person back as well.

‘And then.’

Since returning from the North, another voice had joined. The dying words of Sword Saint Hyeon Sobaek, who spoke of the flowers that martial artists might one day bloom. Blades that would bring spring to the faces of the weak.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought: even the faces of supreme masters lost to fate deserved to feel a spring breeze.

Wuuuung— A fierce tremor surged up through both feet. The blade engraved with the word ‘Silent Work.’ Centered at the leather shoes stepping on the Defeated Sword Lord’s weapon, the clash of internal energy and sword force sparked blue lightning.

Jeong Yeon-shin looked down where the sword should’ve landed. There stood the Ipwang Fortress Lord. The Silent Work Sword had penetrated over three inches into her abdomen. Strangely, it didn’t feel precarious. Rather, he felt that if the Defeated Sword Lord’s Qi-infused strike had faltered even slightly, her rectus abdominis would’ve shattered the sword.

“......”

The master looked up at the disciple. A face shaped to perfection with the whiteness of spring wind. Slightly raised lashes shaded deep green eyes. Even the sharp tip of her nose seemed to draw in the sparks of force as pure white.

The supreme techniques of the top martial artist in the world. To Jeong Yeon-shin, another face emerged as well. Add a bit of baby fat to her cheek, color those indifferent eyes with sentiment—

‘Just like then.’

She became the girl he’d spoken to a hundred times on the plains of time, sharing silly words and teachings.

His master from youth, when she still bore fresh vitality despite the scars of war. His benefactor when he was fifteen. A spring flower he wished to bloom.

Crack.

A rumble below his feet. His vision slightly advanced.

The one gripping the Silent Work Sword he stood on—the Defeated Sword Lord—was driving the blade deeper.

A glance at his heel revealed the expressionless face of a man. From the sword’s hilt burst space-distorting force. The gaunt man’s hair whipped wildly.

Zzzeh-crack!

The invisible streams of that energy climbed up Jeong Yeon-shin’s legs—ready to crush anything near the Ipwang Fortress Lord. Just as it had nearly cleaved War God in two with her earlier.

Just as the War God had said—a hindrance worse than absence.

‘Protect me.’

He whispered to the Tang siblings in his thoughts. Though cracks spread across the inner energy barrier at his feet, his starlike body aura could ignore the Defeated Sword Lord’s sword-force for a moment. Even if the pressure on his skin felt like needles.

Dan Seong-eum, the Defeated Sword Lord. There was a story he’d heard once from Yulha Nangrang.

—He reminded me of you in his youth. A prince covered in soot, yet noble, about to jump off Yeonhwa Peak with that ancient-old expression on his face. When I scolded him, he told me not to speak informally—said he was ten years older than me. I thought it was nonsense at the time.

When Yulha Nangrang spoke of that, her expression was soft—as though even a soul lost to madness once had a springlike youth.

Jeong Yeon-shin gently shifted his foot, adding pressure to the Defeated Sword Lord’s sword, and thought:

‘Nangrang must’ve reached the Great Wall by now.’

She would’ve met the Jianghu warriors who traveled north, including Yu Hyeon. The pass of Shanhai Guan was the only route the demonic Jianghu could take into Zhongyuan.

If the Great Flame Dragon had reclaimed Yeorye, that place might see battles even greater than this. Because of the likes of Grand Commander Jeon U-rip, who hated the Yao as much as the Three Directions Generals, and Hu Cheon Gwangseong-ja, who always defended Zhongyuan.

Still, this battlefield was where the peak of martial ability resided.

Duuung—

A faint vibration from below. Right after the Ipwang Fortress Lord vanished with her Extinction Sword.

Just as Jeong Yeon-shin was striking down at her forehead with his Eight-Wing Step—the Extinction Sword had tapped the Silent Work Sword five times from below. An incomprehensible technique.

Bang!

The Silent Work Sword shot out like a possessed blade. Jeong Yeon-shin and the Defeated Sword Lord were forced apart, shrinking to specks.

In that breath of distance, he shifted into a leap with Eight-Wing Step and soared.

At the same time—

“......!”

The inverted face of the Ipwang Fortress Lord filled his vision. As if she’d flipped through the air using the sword’s recoil, her long legs stepping skyward.

Everything about it was overwhelming. The way her abdominal wound swiftly healed—the technique of stopping the bleeding with just a muscle’s flex.

Jeong Yeon-shin, within the swamp of time, realized:

‘There was no damage...!’

Her inner energy breath teased at the hairs of his forehead like a breeze. His white breath melted into twilight—and dyed her hair pale green.

Moon Spirit Divine Energy: a pure, extreme yin martial art. Though like Blood Qi in nature, it wasn’t opposed to dharmic power. They simply coexisted.

All that remained was a pure martial contest.

Like her palm, now softly pressed against Jeong Yeon-shin’s forehead.

Sarak—

To call it “swift” would be meaningless. Her hand had approached without a single trace—as if nature itself had opened the path. Sprinkling faint light.

A wave from the Heavenly Palm of the Waning Moon, the first seat among the Six Great Palm Arts.

—I created it to survive...

The youthful voice rang in his ears. From the girl who’d once struck him with her palm when her Extinction Sword was trampled.

—Crude. Palms are meant to strike with the Laogong point.

—Trying to teach me, are you?

Now, it was different. She was his master.

The Extinction Sword had already slashed diagonally to his waist. Her left palm—pressed a halo-like wave of palm force into his mind.

BOOOM—!

As the Extinction Sword was deflected by Starlight Night, Jeong Yeon-shin's mind flashed a brilliant white. The palm force had struck cleanly. Even though he'd deflected his master's wrist with the hand not holding a sword—

‘The Best Under Heaven.’

A being who always seized initiative. There may be only a slight gap in strike speed, but that subtle difference appears in every aspect—making it overwhelming.

A master. Jeong Yeon-shin felt the true meaning of that word for the first time. Had he exchanged blows with the late Sam-bong True Man in the distant past, he would’ve felt the same.

He plummeted.

“Hey!”

A strange shout echoed faintly. Was it a shout at all? As he questioned it, a hand cold as glacial jade grabbed the nape of his neck. Still midair, high above ground. A glance from the corner of his eye—So Cheonmujuk.

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.

“You felt like helping me?”

“Why bother? Die here and now?”

“Grateful you caught me and all, but—can someone die twice?”

Flap!

He spun away from her with a cyclone-like motion of Wind Body Technique. A muttering mixed with a scoff scattered like dandelion seeds. You’re always so harsh, little brother.

At that moment—Jeong Yeon-shin’s head snapped upward. A faint full moon had suddenly risen in the star-studded sky. A wide halo of moonlight shimmered.

‘No...’

It was merely the illusion conjured by Ipwang Fortress Lord’s intent as she swung her sword from that unreachable height.

That’s how martial arts worked. The intent imbued in qi was what mattered. Even the Three Talents Sword Art said,

“When you slash horizontally, imagine cleaving Heaven and Earth.”

None who took that lightly became true masters.

She—The Best Under Heaven—was different.

“......”

A great moon flickered. Her figure within the full moon constantly wavered as she slashed downward. No matter how many times he corrected his vision with internal techniques, the illusion remained.

‘This must be stopped here.’

She was closing in fast.

As Jeong Yeon-shin launched upward like lightning, he wondered— If even others could see the mental image of her technique, how deep must her martial mastery go?

Her sleeve blended with the halo of the moon.

“......?”

Whoosh—

Suddenly, his vision blacked out. He’d slammed into the ground in an instant. Though just a sensation, the speed had outpaced the light reaching his retinas.

Moonlight rippled along the long vertical path.

KWAHHHH—!

A massive shockwave bloomed belatedly from the impact point, spreading out in a perfect ring. The canyon deepened to the brink of collapse.

Jeong Yeon-shin felt like he knew the name of that sword form, even though he’d never heard it before. Its short name etched itself into his mind like a divine brand:

‘Moon Spirit Divine Art: Mirror Moon.’

It came to him the moment the crushing force struck. A method of slamming an unstoppable flow down in one blow. Though a sword wind, it had the pressure to shatter diamond.

“What the hell was that? And why are you still alive?”

So Cheonmujuk.

She stood beside him like an orchid blooming from stone. Untouched. Likely because she was struck lower down. Yet, she for once ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) failed to hide her dismay—her lips, always curled in scorn, now faintly distorted.

Jeong Yeon-shin immediately understood why.

“......”

Silence had fallen. The brutal battle on the ground had stilled—like the sky.

Even Yongji Sword Master, Bukmyeong Fist Empress, and Mungok stood frozen, as if they too had to endure the pressure of that one strike. Cheongsoo True Man knelt on one knee.

Meanwhile, the blind man in the conical hat sat alone before him, lifting the Dongmong Sword like an umbrella. Only the War God had his hands behind his back, gazing up at Ipwang Fortress Lord.

He had already followed Jeong Yeon-shin in descending.

Sarak.

The hand holding the sword blurred once more. In the twilight, like repeated moonlight, the blade of the Extinction Sword distorted at an unseeable speed.

A powerful implication—

‘A wide-range technique... in chained form?’

The formless pressure, unseen even with internal vision, fell like a lightning strike—pure sword pressure.

KURRRUNG—

No sooner had she unleashed that blow, Ipwang Fortress Lord stepped down through the moonlight. Suddenly, she stood before Jeong Yeon-shin.

The ash-white Extinction Sword pierced space with a thrust at the peak of mastery.

Perhaps, in this moment, she considered her old disciple the most troublesome on the battlefield. In a supreme domain, she alone dashed through space and time.

The movements of most masters had been sealed by sword pressure. As always, Jeong Yeon-shin instinctively reached for a counter.

No answer came from his mind, his upper danjeon, or Baihui point. He simply moved, like drawing a sword from the sheath of fate.

[Stay still.] 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

He twisted his body using So Cheonmujuk’s firm shoulder as leverage. With subtle abdominal movement, he parted a narrow gap between his internal organs.

The moment his body aura fully bloomed to meet the blade—

FWOOOSH—!

The Extinction Sword completely pierced his abdomen—even emerging from his back.

Above the emotionless face of Ipwang Fortress Lord, the starlight of Silent Night Sword Energy shimmered.

At that same moment, Jeong Yeon-shin sensed it—Shaolin of Mount Song.

Venerable Wonjeok was opening his eyes.