Chapter 477: Boundless (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 477: Boundless (2)
In the spot where the four peerless masters and the flood dragon had vanished, wisps of white haze coiled like serpents before dissipating.
Sssss—
The earth was scoured raw. From time to time, the heavy rumble of thunder rolled through the hazy air.
Across the ruined ground, fallen leaves tumbled among the weeds.
Two figures stood facing each other.
One was the Heaven-Smiling Invincible. As if stifled by the air, she tugged her pure white hero’s scarf down below her collarbone, her expression one of pure boredom.
Her snow-white cloak was wrapped tightly around her, immaculate and without a single speck of dirt. Her aura was flawless.
“You’re tenaciously holding on. I don’t understand it.”
Her pronunciation was clear, but her voice was rough, naturally rasped by her internal energy. It was a different tone than the one she used with Jeong Yeon-shin.
“I know what kind of madwoman you are. The aristocrats of the Blood Flame Cult whisper that you’re the greatest of all time. I suppose it’s plausible that the path of martial arts would draw you to Jeong Yeon-shin, but…”
Whoosh—
A dark mist wrapped around the Heaven-Smiling Invincible’s left arm and began to emit irregular energy waves, just like a Blood Art. Unlike tyrannical demonic energy, it possessed a sinister quality. With a click, stone fragments bounced noisily across the ground.
Its form was identical to the martial arts of the Blood Flame Cult.
“To be consistent, you should show the same favor toward our cult’s leader.”
Her words continued, slow and deliberate.
“You became this strong despite your trivial talent, and without paying any real price. In your eyes, Jeong Yeon-shin and I must seem the same.”
There was no answer.
Only a low laugh seeped into the air. The Heaven-Smiling Invincible didn’t seem to take the mocking sound seriously.
“Come to my arms,” she said flatly. “I will show you the pinnacle of martial arts. I have a paradise to offer, one different from Jeong Yeon-shin’s. Don’t you want to experience a completely different nature?”
A calm yet seductive voice tickled the air—the bewitching nature of Mara.
At that moment, the robe of the Seventh Apostle, who stood facing her, fluttered.
Though still a smooth, bright red fabric, it was pierced in several places and stained with blood. Patches of pitch-black soot clung to it like grim decorations, proving she was at a disadvantage.
Amidst the damage, the only thing that remained pristine was the Seventh Apostle’s pale, snow-white skin, a testament to her overwhelming regenerative ability.
“Paradise,” she slowly parted her lips, “is already inside my body.”
Her voice rose at the end, laced with a directionless madness.
Bang!
The internal energy tailored solely for the Seventh Apostle erupted from within her in a powerful wave. Instantly, concentric circles of dust shot out from her feet, carrying a suppressed vibration.
As the ground rumbled, the Seventh Apostle’s body trembled, as if savoring a moment of profound ecstasy.
Her pitch-black hair cascaded down the back of her Pure Blood Robe.
“Yeon-shin is mine,” she whispered with a smile. “We breathe together, both inside and outside my body.”
“Jeong Yeon-shin…”
The Heaven-Smiling Invincible’s expression turned strange before one corner of her mouth lifted into a faint smile.
“That audacious fellow is even worse than I am. Spreading his martial lineage so widely… it’s a very good method to ensure he’s never forgotten.”
“You talkative creature. Don’t you dare try to fathom him. Yeon-shin has no such thoughts.”
“I’m sorry for him, but… you must die.”
The Heaven-Smiling Invincible’s tone became dry, signaling that there was no more value in conversation.
Soon, the Black Flame wrapped around her hand began to distort the air. Just as the Seventh Apostle stamped her foot, erupting in a reddish wave of energy, a heavy footstep echoed from afar. Thud.
* * *
The world was a blur.
Kwaaaa—!
A storm of Fa Jin clashed with the razor-sharp winds whipped up by the flood dragon’s massive movements.
Constant, tremendous explosions rocked the air as three figures traversed a sky so thick with roiling wind currents that the scenery below was completely obscured.
Before they knew it, the battle had carried them all the way to Zhejiang.
The great river flowed past the city of Hangzhou.
It was the very place where Jeong Yeon-shin had once fallen, defeated by the Lord of Heaven's Bane and the Dark Sky Emperor. Though darkness shrouded everything, the river's surface gleamed like a mirror reflecting the night.
Jeong Yeon-shin kicked off the air and hurled Lingering Thunder fiercely downward.
With a hum, the divine sword shot through the air as a beam of light, arriving just in time to meet Lady Yul-ha’s stockinged foot as she stepped down with immense power.
It boosted her Void Stepping. At the same instant, Jeong Yeon-shin activated the Suction Formula of Myriad Blossoms Rain, and Lingering Thunder shot back into his palm.
Clack.
The hilt was hot.
The sword had been in constant motion, channeling immense internal energy without rest. It was bound to be heated.
Using Sword Control was impossible.
He only had one Fan Dragon dwelling in his mind. If he were to release the Fan Dragon Lotus Art now, there was no telling what might happen.
Circling the flood dragon to unleash sword strikes or deflect its lightning and icy winds sent a tremendous recoil through him with every move.
Thud!
The atmosphere grew even heavier.
It was an internal power wave, unleashed by the flood dragon's thunderous roar. Simultaneously, deep blue lightning the color of the dragon's scales flickered all around them.
Jeong Yeon-shin was reminded of the Namgung Clan Head's Imperial Sword Form, which he'd witnessed during his Blue Rank days. The pressure on his skin felt similar.
It's immense, but…
He didn't feel the same insurmountable gap as he had that day. It was daunting, but not impossible to face. For Jeong Yeon-shin, that was enough.
The problem lay elsewhere.
Fwoosh!
The flood dragon’s tail tore through the air like a typhoon, feeling as if the Great Wall of the North itself was being swung with immense internal energy.
Lady Yul-ha, who was nearby, vanished like a mirage and reappeared beside Jeong Yeon-shin, having executed Dark Fragrance Drift with the finesse of Void Stepping.
“Are you alright?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked quickly.
Lady Yul-ha’s complexion was steadily growing paler.
Even with her profound Mount Hua cultivation, she could only perform the Unified Martial Transcendence 'Crimson Horizon' so many times. Both the power of the life-saving herb and her own stamina were finite. In fact, her second use of Crimson Horizon had been closer to an immensely wide sword barrier than a true Unified Martial Transcendence.
Had she used it offensively, its power would have been on another level, but their priority had been to lure the beast away from the city. Her energy was inevitably exhausted.
“I will hold out with the Abbot. Please perform Qi Meditation from afar, even if only for a moment…”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s words were cut off by the smile that curved Lady Yul-ha’s lips.
“You underestimate me. Though I may look this way, I achieved great completion of the Purple Mist Divine Art in my youth and halted the aging of my body. My vitality is as vigorous as yours.”
The youngest Sect Leader among the Nine Sects. Even with the aid of the Purple Mist Divine Art, she was indeed in her prime.
But today’s fight was a life-and-death duel against something that was not human.
The flood dragon was sluggish.
With a body that filled the Zhejiang river, it was bound to be slow, especially compared to the movement techniques of the peerless masters. But the aura around the supreme spirit beast was another matter.
Dragons, it was said, could summon wind and rain as easily as breathing.
Rumble!
A bolt of lightning crashed down, splitting the two of them apart.
For a moment, the pale light illuminated their faces, revealing features that were elegant yet bloodless.
A realm beyond humanity.
Just to withstand the pressure radiating from the flood dragon, they had to constantly circulate the Great Heavenly Cycle. The toll on not just their internal energy but also their mental strength was immense.
The three of them hammered the flood dragon's head with fists and blades, but each strike only sent dazzling sparks flying, unable to pierce its scales.
At best, Abbot Beomheo’s Shaolin Zen Coiling Sleeve had emitted a brilliant glow and torn away a piece of its brow.
Dragon Scales.
The scales shone with a cold light even in the storm of shockwaves. Without time to build up their Fa Jin, it was nearly impossible to leave so much as a scratch.
After about an hour had passed, a figure shrouded in a white cloak suddenly appeared above their heads. Whoosh.
It was a Nascent Soul made entirely of bones—the Dark Sky Emperor.
[Majestic Overwhelming Force.]
Had he used being caught in their joint attack as an opportunity?
The moment he manifested, he sprayed dozens of white flames toward Abbot Beomheo like a net. The Flame Flowers, which distorted space with a chilling roar, were scattered to pieces by a single strike of the Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
Kwaaaaaa!
Abbot Beomheo, sitting cross-legged, raised his fist.
The golden wave extending from that single punch tore through the dark clouds, revealing a sliver of sunlight. Meanwhile, below, the flood dragon opened its maw, gathering a breath of fiery lightning.
The blue light in the Dark Sky Emperor's eye sockets flickered with cold indifference. He must have refined his sorcery somewhere.
[Beomheo.]
The Dark Sky Emperor’s telepathic thought echoed, low and condescending.
[No matter how infinite the power of Muscle Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing, how can it compare to the flood dragon? It is useless even if Shaolin and Mount Hua join hands. Three of the Nine Sects should have gathered… but the sword of the imperial family, proficient only in actual combat, is no replacement for Wudang.]
Before his words even ended, a pillar of fire connecting the surface of the river and the dark clouds swallowed Abbot Beomheo.
Steam hissed violently as the water’s surface glowed. It was a pillar of Flame Flowers so thick it seemed capable of filling all of Zhejiang.
The flood dragon’s breath.
The strike was perfectly timed. The aura around the supreme spirit beast shifted—this was clearly the Dark Sky Emperor's doing.
[This fight will not last half a day.]
The peerless master, who had fashioned an immortal Nascent Soul from bone, declared.
Fwoosh!
Suddenly, golden petals landed on the flood dragon’s brow, taking the shape of Abbot Beomheo sitting in meditation.
Divine Art Secret Technique: Vajra Immovable Body Art. The old monk calmly sat between the beast’s giant eyes, as if he had made the bristling, blue scales into his own temple hall.
Instantly, the flood dragon’s vast body stopped moving, looking as if it were trapped in the palm of the Buddha.
[Great Prajna Power…!]
Anger finally tinged the Dark Sky Emperor's telepathic thought.
[Strike.]
Abbot Beomheo’s Six Harmonies Sound Transmission.
The flood dragon's body, which had been in constant motion, froze in midair.
It was the martial equivalent of stopping a natural disaster. It was a sight that even the Imperial Sword Form at its peak would struggle to create.
Bang!
As Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly appeared behind the Dark Sky Emperor, stomped on his back, and launched himself downward, he was inwardly convinced. Of all the masters who had recently set foot in Hangzhou, the greatest was undoubtedly Abbot Beomheo.
Strike as much as I want?
The Halo in Jeong Yeon-shin’s heart spun like a beam of light. He raised his internal energy to its absolute peak. The power rising and layering within his acupoints was on a completely different level than before.
In an instant, all that power surged to the Mingmen Point on his back, the Yongquan Point at his toes, and the Laogong Point in his palm.
His innate talent channeled the oceanic wave of energy as if it were water flowing through a canal.
Sky Torrent.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s inverted figure kicked off the air, creating a huge ripple before he plunged vertically into the middle of the flood dragon’s body.
Kwaaaaaang!
The massive body buckled downward with a roar like dozens of thunderbolts cracking at once.
Beneath its long form, the surface of the river dented. The shockwave from the sword strike, concentrated on a single point, had pierced straight through its scales.
Instantly, waves exploded with a suppressed roar. Sunlight filtered through the clouds like a thin curtain, catching the rainbow-colored foam that sprayed into the air.
[…]
As the commotion from the distant crowd watching the battle grew, the Dark Sky Emperor's silence swept down the river.
At that moment, the wrinkled eyes of Abbot Beomheo, still sitting on the flood dragon’s brow, showed a slight hint of surprise.
Desolate Fortress Purple.
To violate a divine being with a blade.
The flow of events—joining hands with the masters of the Nine Sects and then turning on the offensive—was seamless.
It was a natural move for the nation’s sword. The purple robe bestowed upon Jeong Yeon-shin by the Emperor was still intact.
[The brat of the Desolate Fortress.]
Finally, the Dark Sky Emperor’s gaze shifted from Abbot Beomheo. The ghostly, bright blue fire filling his eye sockets fixed its gaze down upon Jeong Yeon-shin.
[That is a talent too precious to be lost here. I admit it. You, along with Beomheo, are worthy of becoming a stepping stone for Sambong.]
Arrogance seeped from the gaze of the immortal who had spent hundreds of years in preparation. It was a gaze that held the weight of ages.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly had an intuition.
Friend and foe alike were thinking the same thing. Abbot Beomheo, the Dark Sky Emperor, and even Lady Yul-ha, who had already vanished into the clouds—none of them had any intention of dragging this fight out.
Considering the impact on the commoners below, their own dwindling energy, and countless other variables, this battle had to end quickly.
“You,” Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips. “You said you have met Perfected Zhang Sanfeng.”
Slide.
His left hand, braced against a massive scale, slowly moved down to grip the hilt of the Songmun Ancient Sword.
The old pine pattern on the hilt disappeared between his callused fingers.
Instantly, the river water beneath the peerless masters distorted, flowing into a streamlined shape.