Chapter 508: The Great War of the Desolate Fortress (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 508: The Great War of the Desolate Fortress (8)
It happened the moment Master Golden Thunder jolted awake, his pretense of sleep shattered. In that same instant, the experts of the Dreaming Mortal Moon were slaughtered en masse by his erupting lightning qi.
Suddenly, the sky rippled like the distant waters of Hainan. A vast current surged outward in a massive circle, silently parting the clouds. It was a strangely silent movement for one of so immense a scale.
A Divine Art Secret Technique.
White Butterfly Forgets the World.
It was the greatest martial art of Guangxi.
The internal cultivation technique formed a wondrous energy barrier, blocking observation from afar by those with eye techniques. Simultaneously, it scattered true qi like a mist, which would naturally seep into an opponent's skin to strike their sleep acupoints.
However, it was useless against someone who was already asleep.
And so it was today.
To Master Golden Thunder, everything was like a dream. Because of that powerful state, even when he was fully awake, the lightning qi within his body would spontaneously incinerate any foreign energy attempting to penetrate his sleep acupoints.
This was the function of the Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak.
His internal energy had merged with his very senility.
Rumble—
From the unimaginably high heavens, the distant sound of thunder echoed faintly.
Sang Iryeong, Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon.
The lips of the absolute master leading the eastern vanguard of the War of Annihilation at the Desolate Fortress slowly parted.
"...The Jianghu is a dream. Life is fleeting, and goals are futile."
Her eyes, hazy as frosted ink, reflected the sight of her fallen sect members.
"Did you all have a good dream?" she murmured.
Sssss—
In the far-off sky, a vast amount of natural qi repeatedly condensed and dispersed like mist, a movement that synchronized perfectly with her breathing.
It was incredibly bizarre. There seemed to be no limit to the distance over which she could manipulate her internal energy. It was so potent that even the Brightfolk youth, who had been glaring fiercely at Ma Jin with his golden eyes, turned his gaze toward her.
Master Golden Thunder of the World Tree.
Even to those who did not know his identity, he was a living disaster. This was especially true because no one had completely escaped the influence of the White Butterfly Forgets the World.
Was Sang Iryeong destined to be helplessly killed or defeated by a crazed Brightfolk like this?
No. Such a person could not be called a master.
The Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon had long prepared for the existence of counter-techniques. A drunkard’s only backing was themselves, and she had clawed her way up from her days as an expelled disciple of the Beggar Sect to become a Lord of the Thirteen Heavens, fighting solely for survival. Though not as harsh as the Northern Region, the land of Guangxi was extremely rugged.
The Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon parted her lips.
"You should have kept pretending to sleep."
In an instant, she withdrew the energy barrier that had enveloped the entire eastern region of the Desolate Fortress. The energy surging in the sky immediately plunged toward her like a translucent waterfall.
Whoooooosh!
It was, quite literally, as fast as a beam of light—a current that pierced vertically through her Baihui Point and into her upper dantian. The next moment, her eyes, once shrouded in pale mist, shimmered with a blue light.
Kiiiiing—
A strange ringing even seemed to leak from her eyes.
It was not a sight of the mortal world.
The martial arts of the world were indeed diverse. Seeing this, Master Golden Thunder pointed a finger cheerfully at the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon.
"You look just like Yeon-shin when he's angry! My friend was telling the truth after all. Do you use your upper dantian a lot, too?"
"I haven't killed many people. I would have been satisfied with just tearing off a small branch of the World Tree."
The two of them spoke only of their own concerns.
Before long, a highly lucid rationality began to surface in the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's words and actions, as if a drunkard had suddenly cast off their intoxication. Because the natural qi of heaven and earth now filled her body, her speech was only slightly slurred.
The Naraka Reaper of the Desolate Fortress, however, remained silent. He was merely scanning the survivors of the Dreaming Mortal Moon, who were still reeling from Master Golden Thunder's single strike.
Whoosh!
It happened in an instant.
The Ma Family Head spun in a wide arc, his pitch-black robe whipping through the air. He closed the distance in a flash, stopping only when his saber was buried deep in the flank of Jo Gwon-il, the Demon-Illusion Divine Reaper, who was still barely clinging to life.
Craaaack!
The nascent shockwave, just beginning to erupt from the blade, suddenly reversed, imploding back into the point of impact.
A super-ascension internal heavy hand technique. Ma Jin's broad blade bypassed Jo Gwon-il's protective qi, sliced through skin and muscle in an instant, and shattered his ribs, producing a muffled, heavy explosion.
"Cough...!"
Jo Gwon-il coughed up a torrent of blood.
Grip.
Ma Jin’s gaze shifted away from him as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his saber. A sickening crunch echoed from Jo Gwon-il's flesh, which had swallowed the unusually broad blade, but Ma Jin's gaze was already fixed silently on the Dream Demon of the Nine Provinces standing among the crowd.
His temperament was reminiscent of the Hegemon Hero in his youth.
A chilling murderous intent exuded from his posture, so intense that even Master Golden Thunder looked slightly startled and instinctively shut his mouth.
Yet Ma Jin no longer spared a glance for even the monster of the World Tree. With his back to the swordsmen of the Azure Sky Unit who had lined up behind him, he simply stared at the remaining members of the Dreaming Mortal Moon as if they were trash.
"……."
They had dared to trespass into the main fortress so casually. Many sects had plotted against the Desolate Fortress in the past, but none had ever set foot inside its walls. Everything that had happened today was a first in history—and this was before Jeong Yeon-shin could even formally take his seat as the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
"Azure Sky Unit," Ma Jin's voice was cold. "I convey the will of the Chief Steward's Office."
He continued, "They will be decapitated. Preserve the heads of the enemies."
The swordsmen of the Azure Sky Unit answered with the low, resonant hum of their blades. They were the final line of defense carved into the eastern side of the Desolate Fortress. If they were breached, the path would lead straight to the pavilions where the families of the fortress clans resided. The battle had to end here.
Skreeee!
High above their heads, against the backdrop of the pure white brick walls, a snow-white swallow spread its wings and soared into the distant sky. It was the White Swallow of the acting Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, sent from the Chief Steward's Office. It had previously paid a visit to the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon.
Just then, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's gaze flickered between Ma Jin and the White Swallow. In the next instant, both her figure and Master Golden Thunder's blurred and vanished from the ground.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
With a deafening roar, the very atmosphere warped and tilted.
Before anyone knew it, the two were treading the high, distant air, their palms pressed firmly against each other. From the point of their collision, a sound like the low rumble of dark storm clouds faintly leaked out.
Neither yielded an inch in their first clash.
"……!"
A faint look of surprise filled Master Golden Thunder's eyes.
The same was true for the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon. She felt like a beggar who had climbed over a wall, thinking the house was empty, only to run straight into the city guard.
She spoke. "Was there any reason to risk your life for the Desolate Fortress? It is a place destined to be trampled anyway."
Both were peerless masters possessing lethal techniques. Even if there was a difference in the depth of their martial arts, neither could be absolutely certain of a flawless victory.
But Master Golden Thunder did not answer.
"Hmm."
With his mouth tightly shut, he appeared taciturn, directly mimicking the demeanor Ma Jin had shown just moments ago. He was the very picture of an old man turned back into a child by deep senility.
But that behavior did not last long.
With a glance at him, the cork of a liquor bottle at the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's waist popped out on its own. Simultaneously, a stream of clear liquid shot up from the gourd and into her mouth.
Splash—
It was a practical starting stance of the Drunken Fist, executed through a void grab—a technique that utilized the upper dantian extensively through the influence of alcohol.
The moment the crisp scent of fruit wine wafted through the air, an intangible energy suddenly buzzed from Master Golden Thunder's palm, sweeping up the stream of liquid before it could reach her.
Ssssss!
In an instant, the fruit wine turned to steam, merely wetting the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's lips. Yet even that was enough to make her eyes lose focus once more. She had absorbed the intoxication to an immense degree, reaching a realm where she could freely regulate the nerves within her own body.
Master Golden Thunder asked with a smirk, "I heard you earlier. Why do you covet a branch of the World Tree?"
His voice had become strangely clear. However, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon simply pulled back her palm, folded one leg upward, and kicked.
Whoooooosh!
Air was sucked in like a tempest along the trajectory of her kick, carving a thin line through the sea of feathery clouds.
Master Golden Thunder, who had leaped backward in midair to evade, whistled in admiration, but the sound was drowned out by the gale she had whipped up.
"Hee-myung is the one who's really good at making mouth noises, though," he laughed sheepishly.
Whoosh!
The Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon was drawn forward by the suction force of her own technique, accelerating her void-treading movement. The speed with which she closed the distance was comparable to a bolt of golden lightning.
Boom!
In the next instant, the top of her foot slammed into Master Golden Thunder's flank. A hazy gale erupted from the point of impact like a spool of thread unraveling.
Swoosh!
With a thunderous roar, Master Golden Thunder's body was sent flying sideways like a cannonball.
At the same time, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's body dissolved once more into the wind she had created. Spinning like a dancer, she pursued him and positioned herself right at his back. It took only a fraction of a second for her knee to drive upward into his spine.
Consecutive Form: Drunken Wind Immortal Dance.
Craaaack!
A colorless shockwave exploded from his lower back, and Master Golden Thunder's body shot upward, propelled by the clean hit. It was a significant blow. For the first time, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Their attitudes toward this life-and-death duel were completely different.
Flutter!
The Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's shabby, sleeveless rags fluttered incessantly. From her calves, defined by smooth, distinct muscles, a continuous series of sounds like exploding Thunderbolt Bombs began to echo.
Boom! Crash! Craaaack—!
They exchanged blurred, distorted blows in the high sky. Their paths stretched far into the distance before snapping back, repeatedly vanishing as if suddenly snuffed out.
Throughout it all, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's eyes shone with a brilliant blue light—the light of insight. She had long since realized that feints and illusions would never work against an opponent who had refined his lightning qi to the absolute limit.
Therefore, she relied strictly on two things: the functions of her upper dantian awakened by intoxication, and pure close-quarters combat.
Whoooooosh!
She traversed the air at the speed of light, rivaling the fastest in the world. She seamlessly chained her forms together, using the erratic movements unique to void treading. Before long, the sky itself was bent and warped by the pale afterimages her body left behind.
Just as the wind, descending like a lingering echo, brushed past the hair of Shin Bin-bin of the Heaven-Aligned Wing on the ground below.
Suddenly, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's leg bent long like a whip. Its trajectory trapped Master Golden Thunder like a folding fan, slamming seven massive waves of energy into him.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
A monstrous recoil swept outward in concentric circles. While the feathery clouds spewed white threads of vapor, everyone on the ground except Ma Jin stumbled back.
The War of Annihilation.
The higher one climbed in the Jianghu, the more terrifyingly heavy the name of the Desolate Fortress became. This was even truer for eccentric masters at the absolute peak like Sang Iryeong, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon. This was a pandemonium where one had to account for unexpected, fatal variables.
Even having heard of the absence of the Castle Lord and the Purple Ranks, no one would dare set foot in Xiangyang without being prepared to die. The resolve of the invaders was bound to be extraordinary.
Though she traversed the air as if in a dream, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's goal remained crystal clear.
On the other hand, Master Golden Thunder, wandering through a dream in reality, smiled vaguely as he took kicks, deflected blows, and evaded with a movement technique that made him vanish like a mirage. Then, he suddenly halted in midair.
With his clothes torn and his body bruised purple, he asked, "I asked you, why do you need a branch of the World Tree?"
Her thoughts echoed like a reverberation, clear fragments resonating without her ever opening her mouth. If I have that, I won't starve.
"Huh?"
You people are drawing all the earth's energy with that damnably massive trunk. As far as I can see, there is no hope left for this land.
It was the precursor to her Unified Martial Transcendence—a relentless onslaught.
And perhaps I could look down on useless beggars from a high place, just like your precious clan does.
Such was the perspective of the peerless master who had walked all the way from the southern border to Xiangyang.
In the Jianghu, it was strength.
In a land facing famine, it was food.
Even the noble peak of the martial world ultimately operated on the law of the jungle, with each combatant struggling to maintain their own position.
Yes, from a much higher place.
In that instant, seeing the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon overtake him and soar gracefully high into the sky, Master Golden Thunder's face turned slightly pale.
A brief murmur escaped his lips. "If I get hit by that, I might actually die."
Whoooooosh!
The sound of the gale was immense. The surroundings were dyed in black and white, as if an early dusk had fallen over the fortress. The sun vanished as if erased by a brushstroke, and in its place, a pale, circular energy took form.
It looked like a hazy full moon.
It was a technique that projected force outward to establish an unrivaled domain. Within that combat space, she could exquisitely unleash hundreds of kicking forms, all empowered by her intoxicated upper dantian.
Unified Martial Transcendence.
Joyful Moon in a Dream.
Before anyone realized it, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon stood with her back to the full moon of internal energy, her long-limbed shadow etched against its pale light.
"……."
The violently howling wind subsided all at once.
At the same time, her eyes widened.
Grip—
Suddenly, Master Golden Thunder was right in front of her, his hand gripping the crown of her head. It was a rough, violent grip, like that of an old man who had lost his mind. Behind him, a halo of golden lightning faintly dispersed—the trace of his movement.
His mind-voice flowed as smoothly as a beam of light. Stop hitting me.
A lightning-fast reaction. A movement technique that severed the opponent's sense of qi.
Though it was a Unified Martial Transcendence without even a name, it took him only a fraction of a second to seize the head of the caught-off-guard Sang Iryeong.
Unlike Yeon-shin, you're not very convincing. You should try farming by some quiet river before you talk like that.
I made a promise to Elder Sambong. I have to live longer to see the end of our tree.
You...!
Was it a good dream?
Crunch!
Against the backdrop of the hazy moon, Master Golden Thunder ripped the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's head upward.
With a heavy, sickening sound of tearing flesh, a torrent of blood erupted. The shadows of the two rippled like waves in the hazy winter wind.
That was the end.
Her head severed and lifted high, the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon's world became even higher. The last thing the beggar named Sang Iryeong looked down upon was a pure white bird, blinking as it stared up at her.
It was the swallow of the Wilderness Sunfall.