'A fragment of Bodhidharma's true energy?'
It was a treasure embedded within the treasured artifact of the City of Master Craftsmen. A halo of light appeared above the boy's upper dantian.
It was called spirituality, said to elevate weapons to the realm of divine armaments.
'This is….'
A spark exploded in his mind—an inspiration so intense that it seemed to draw out the boy's innate potential.
Bodhidharma, the embodiment of pure Buddhist martial arts, surged forth, yet there was no strain on the Baihui acupoint.
Could Bodhidharma's true energy be compensating for the toll of a shortened lifespan?
As soon as he sat cross-legged, everything was pushed out of his mind. It was as if he had detached from reality.
The battlefield's situation, Ma Jin's severed left arm, the Desolate Fortress warriors being overwhelmed, and the Seventh Apostle' rampage—all faded away.
To complete a martial art capable of changing the tide of war, his mind had to be flawless. He calmed his thoughts.
He adopted the mindset of an artisan, as if inheriting the spirit of the City of Master Craftsmen's smiths.
He vividly recalled the cheerful teachings of the Tang Clan Leader—conversations with Tang Yun-hwang.
—If you hammer with soul, weapons gain spirituality. That's what they call divine swords and sacred weapons.
—Create them? What exactly is spirituality?
—It's a subtle intention, barely perceivable to human eyes, yet different from internal energy. It's a mystical property, one only master artisans can harness.
—Are you boasting about yourself?
—Imagine a chipped blade repairing itself. Crafting such a divine weapon—how great an accomplishment is that? Like Pangu in the creation myths, it's creating life with human hands.
What Jung Yeonshin sought to create now was also a divine weapon.
A foundation to endure the Fruit of the World Tree, to elevate the boy to an even higher realm. Breathing life into martial arts.
'Speed of energy accumulation is key. Think of creating the world's fastest and most stable energy circulation technique—even if it falls short.'
Jung Yeonshin observed the Baihui acupoint at the crown of his head while meditating.
It was as dense as the upper dantian just below it. He clearly felt the approaching end of his life, a mere three years away.
To survive he must transcend the black level and touch the purple rank. The position of the Divine Sword Squad's leader was another matter entirely.
Even if he claimed the title, merits wouldn't fall into his lap.
He also needed a justification compelling enough for the Lord of the Desolate Fortress to hand over the Fruit of the World Tree.
The world Jung Yeonshin saw spanned only three years—a deadline set in stone.
The day the world ends, he dies. That's why this moment mattered.
'Today, I must stand equal to the black-ranked masters.'
For that, he needed the right energy technique.
The energy circulation pathways were already designed, flawlessly envisioned.
From the Demon Roaring Blood Art to the Moonlight Harmony Technique, he had dissected the essence of every sought-after internal cultivation method.
He analyzed their effects and created new pathways.
Jung Yeonshin had been preparing even before arriving at the City of Master Craftsmen. He completed the energy flow framework within his body.
All he needed was inspiration to anchor his new technique, one that perfectly suited him.
Intention.
When imagery and energy merge, it becomes a technique—an internal cultivation method born from harmony between the mind and nature's energy.
'It just needs the finishing touch.'
Jung Yeonshin thought.
He envisioned the first formula, the intention for energy accumulation. A yearning to draw in the energy of the great nature.
Creating the verse was easy. For the boy, only one desire was absolute.
[As dusk brushes past, another day is lost. The flow of the sun and moon is like a wave, yet this body is no better than a salmon struggling against the current. Desiring to defy the heavens, yet following their decree—no matter how I struggle, I cannot rebel.]
The first verse of the unnamed technique. The foundation of intention to shape a new internal method.
Ssssshh—
When intention rose with the energy flow, there was a response. Natural energy surged up with his breath.
It felt familiar. The problem was what came next.
Distractions.
His mind wavered. With his current breathing, he couldn't contain the energy. It gathered briefly, then dissipated.
Scattered energies lingered across his body.
Vital energy from multiple techniques—Jung Family's Dynamic Arts, Moonlight Harmony Technique, Demon-Slaying Azure Steel Palm, and Demon Roaring Blood Art—had yet to unify.
He needed the final insight to tie them together.
'I must weave them using the Diamond Sutra's teachings.'
With Bodhidharma's spirituality aiding him, perhaps it was possible now.
Kiiiiing—!
His upper dantian sharpened his senses and enhanced his control over energy.
Endlessly opening Baihui, his body drew in infinite power.
As his consciousness rose higher, his innate energy surged as well.
Whhoooosh!
The Baihui acupoint filled with light. It absorbed and broke through even Bodhidharma's fragment of spirituality.
Once more, it expanded. He didn't mind. It was fine.
The spirituality of Bodhidharma and Jung Yeonshin's intention fused completely. Perfect harmony.
He recalled the teachings of the Diamond Sutra.
'Let the mind flow freely, without attachment. Simply know, without restraint.'
Only then does intention take shape, and effort built with the heart becomes internal cultivation.
'Ah.'
Realizing what he already knew was also enlightenment.
A flower of light bloomed in his mind.
It spun like a wheel, drawing in nature's energy as its own.
The boy, eyes closed, thought—
…My desire burns away this fleeting reincarnation.
Borrowing Buddha's wheel as my stepping stone is only fitting.
'Thus, it is the Radiant Wheel.'
At that moment, the scattered energy across his body turned into a single radiant light.
Though his eyes were shut, his vision turned white, so bright it stung.
But he didn't care. His consciousness continued whispering.
-If fate is heaven's law,I will someday transcend that law.
'Therefore, it is Transcending Law.'
Transcending Law Radiant Wheel.
He named the technique, defining its identity against the mysteries of the world.
Finally, the finishing touch.
Bodhidharma and Jung Yeonshin's spirituality infused the formless martial art.
The Jung Family's Dynamic Arts polished the body, but this was different.
It blended its principles with internal cultivation.
Constant energy accumulation and circulation.
Radiance surged within his body. Energy coursed through meridians and acupoints, storming like waves.
The Demon Roaring Blood Art's energy turned divine.
Various techniques melded within the furnace of his internal cultivation.
With spirits and energy unified, his intent shaped their transformation.
'You, united….'
He clearly visualized his desire, forging spirituality into reality.
Like the artisans of the City of Master Craftsmen.
'I name it Transcending Law Radiant Wheel Energy—and make it my measure against the world!'
His soul roared. The echo resounded in the realm of imagery.
Vrooooom!
"What's happening?"
"Acting leader! Are you alright?"
Voices of Baek Miryeo and Flame Dragon brushed his ears.
The white currents surrounding Jung Yeonshin's seated body converged at a single point.
His middle dantian, near the solar plexus.
Whirlwinds raged.
The wheel spinning in his imagery solidified, taking form in his heart.
Vrooooom!
A resonating hum filled the air.
A ring of light—the engine of his new technique.
He had fully embodied the Buddhist myth. The Wheel-Turning King's chariot crushed mountains and rocks as it advanced.
'This is my divine weapon.'
Jung Yeonshin opened his eyes. Even without observing, he could feel it.
The Radiant Wheel pulsed in his heart.
* * *
When Jung Yeonshin broke away from formation and moved independently, Namgoong Hwashin led the Returning Wings Squad to join the battlefield. Following Jung Yeonshin, four elite warriors in blue, including the Crimson Noon Sword, dashed forward.
Aside from White Qilin, there was no one else suited to serve as the vice leader. Entrusting the role to Flame Dragon was out of the question.
"The Ten Perfection Sect scum have brought their elite forces!"
"Their skills are exceptional! Avoid clashing directly in duels and focus on swift sword exchanges to decide the outcome in a single move!"
The Returning Wings Squad soon scattered in all directions. There were simply too many equally matched foes.
Originally, the difference between the Thirteen Heavens and the Desolate Fortress lay in the number of martial artists.
Individually, the Thirteen Heavens' sects were overwhelmingly large compared to the Desolate Fortress. However, when counting the Thirteen Heavens collectively, the Desolate Fortress was at a disadvantage.
This was the latter situation.
'We need to take the heads of their leaders,' Namgoong Hwashin thought. It was a natural conclusion.
He turned his gaze.
The heart of the battlefield came into view.
Jung Yeonshin, spitting blood, was being dragged by Chung Myung. Meanwhile, the Seventh Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult was up to something suspicious.
The battlefield was chaotic and unpredictable. Namgoong Hwashin's emotions swayed wildly.
In the midst of this, the Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman, Chung Myung, was struggling to parry the massive blade of the Sword-Thirst Demon, Dokgo Gwang. It did not look easy.
The Desolate Sword, known as the greatest among the blue-clad swordsmen, already showed signs of significant dullness in its blade force.
His movements were sluggish, barely holding out with the innate abilities of the Noble Clan, which stirred a wondrous wind.
'They must have been at a disadvantage for more than seven days. It's surprising they lasted this long.'
An extraordinary senior indeed.
Chung Myung was a highly renowned master.
With a temperament that divided those he favored and those he didn't, and the invisible authority afforded by his pure-blooded lineage, he had always carried himself with composure.
Yet now, even he was in this state.
'If they crumble further, we'll truly lose all hope.'
Namgoong Hwashin sprinted, his speed like an arrow released from a bow, his flowing blue robes reflecting the sky.
Using the full extent of the Seamless Azure Stream Movement, he reached the center of the battlefield in an instant.
His skin tingled from the powerful aura emanating from the Sword-Thirst Demon, Dokgo Gwang.
"The Desolate Fortress. As expected, it's a den of demons."
The mustache on Dokgo Gwang's lips curled up as he forcefully deflected Chung Myung's Desolate Sword.
The swordsman of the Noble Clan flipped backward in midair—a display of monstrous swordsmanship.
The impact alone whipped Namgoong Hwashin's hair into a frenzy as he arrived.
"There are far too many exceptional young talents here. The Imperial swords should not be this sharp. It's only fitting that you all die here."
Dokgo Gwang's words carried a casual tone, but a chilling intent to kill lingered beneath them. He swung his massive sword once more—a heavy strike. Despite not being a Noble Clan member, the wind released by his blade swept through the frontlines like a cannon blast.
Boom!
Namgoong Hwashin countered the sword's gale with his Desolate Sword. Dodging was impossible.
His junior, the white-robed Shin Bin-bin, had followed closely behind, anxious and unable to remain still.
The aftermath of the clashing energies spread in all directions, scattering the dust that coated the vast cave floor.
"Ugh!"
A groan slipped out unintentionally. The pressure Jung Yeonshin had endured earlier was indeed overwhelming.
It didn't feel human. Clearly, Dokgo Gwang stood a tier above Namgoong Hwashin—a master of the black rank.
Chung Myung and Namgoong Hwashin immediately returned with intertwining sword trajectories.
Clang! Clang!
Dokgo Gwang's greatsword spanned seven-tenths of his height.
It was a rare weapon, wielded only by a select few martial artists, yet he swung it with astonishing ease.
Alongside his overpowering strength, his swordplay possessed remarkable precision. A single thrust sliced off the upper tip of Chung Myung's ear.
Boom!
And that was after a quick reaction to barely evade it.
Chung Myung's evasive footwork carried the wind of the Noble Clan, yet the fragments of force released from Dokgo Gwang's strike had drawn blood.
Even then, the attacks didn't stop. A thrust was immediately followed by a slash, targeting the side.
The massive blade hurtled toward Namgoong Hwashin.
At that moment, Namgoong Hwashin pushed off the ground.
With a tearing sound, the edge of his blue robes was shredded. He had narrowly avoided the blow.
It was the Infinite Steps technique of the Namgoong Clan.
'I can't win. Our breathing is on a different level.'
He felt a dull ache in his chest and thought.
A master's breath reflected the level of their martial arts. Exhaling unleashed techniques, while inhaling restored internal energy.
The flow of attacks determined a swordsman's caliber.
Dokgo Gwang's breathing clearly surpassed that of Namgoong Hwashin and Chung Myung. His strikes came at an entirely different pace.
Strength, skill, and rhythm.
Despair loomed. He couldn't keep up. It was a familiar helplessness—like when Jung Yeonshin had slain his half-brother, Namgoong Se-jin, and when the vice-leader, Ak Surim, knocked him unconscious.
'If only I were of the black rank.'
The Desolate Fortress' black rank was the realm of supreme masters, individuals unmatched even in territories the size of small nations.
Titles like Sword King and Fist King often emerged from this rank.
"The outer lands may suffer famine, but today, the City of Master Craftsmen enjoys a great harvest. Who would have thought I'd claim the heads of so many rising stars of the Desolate Fortress? My fortune is good. It's compensation for the treasure taken by the Blood Flame Cult's witch. It was merely borrowed to begin with."
Dokgo Gwang spoke, driving his greatsword into the ground.
He exuded composure, unhurried as if he had all the time in the world.
Namgoong Hwashin steadied his breathing without concern.
It wasn't the time to dwell on the secret pact between the Ten Perfection Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance.
Chung Myung, panting, approached him.
"Your name's White Qilin, right? I remembered you because you have potential."
"Senior."
"The Ten Perfection Sect trains with all eighteen martial weapons. Their founder was a supreme master from the military. In that sense, they resemble the Radiant Demon Squad. My Radiant Demon Arts ranks below his weapon techniques. He could swing a greatsword and suddenly throw daggers. He's proficient in hand-to-hand combat, too, so watch your distance. Close combat won't give you the upper hand against that monster."
"…Yes."
"He doesn't seem to care much for his subordinates. With the Tang Clan Leader running rampant, he's still calm. Sichuan folks are hard to read. But that's good for us—let's find an opening. Though I worry about the Captain…"
Chung Myung glanced toward the other side. The one-armed Ma Jin was struggling, barely dodging the Pure Demon Alliance's fist techniques.
Dokgo Gwang laughed.
"How noble of the Noble Clan. You truly know nothing. To master all eighteen techniques, one must face life-and-death struggles. If the weakened Tang Clan Leader engages me, it's a blessing. How much stronger will the surviving disciples become? I've already calculated the time required—you need only display the martial arts of the Desolate Fortress."
His words carried weight.
The Ten Perfection Sect was also known for its counters, exploiting weaknesses in martial techniques through diverse weapons.
This battlefield—
It was a game to them. A thorough exploitation of the law of the strong.
The Ten Perfection Sect' inclusion in the Thirteen Heavens showed exactly how the demonic masters operated.
At that moment—
Whooooosh—!
An overwhelming force rang out from behind, like a gale roaring through a deep canyon.
A blinding white light shot past Chung Myung and Namgoong Hwashin. The delayed shockwave swept in like a storm.
Kwoooooom—!
Jung Yeonshin appeared, eyes glowing with pure white light.
No longer moving like a leaf in the wind, his overflowing power tore through the air.
Dokgo Gwang raised his greatsword with wide eyes.
Claaang!
A deafening explosion shook the cave as their swords clashed. But it wasn't over.
Jung Yeonshin twisted his wrist mid-clash, channeling the force sideways—an advanced technique born immediately after thunderous impact.
The greatsword grazed Jung Yeonshin's head, yet the boy didn't even blink.
He fixed his gaze on the exposed flank, his eyes shining white.
'Is he even human…?!'
For the first time, Dokgo Gwang's eyes widened in disbelief.
He sensed the crushing weight of Jung Yeonshin's sword force.
Humans could change this drastically? He hastily unleashed the energy of his Life Gate Acupoint, lifting his leg for a devastating knee strike.
At that moment, Jung Yeonshin's left hand was revealed. It was a technique prepared from the moment he had risen, unseating himself from the meditative position.
He had initiated it in advance while approaching. Its characteristic weakness, the long activation time, was rendered meaningless in this single instant.
Another flaw was its lack of precision, but Jung Yeonshin ignored this and extended his hand.
The trajectory was a straight path aimed at Dokgo Gwang's side.
Radiant River.
A tremendous force surged from his palm. The sheer aftermath of the power exerted a destructive dominance over the space around it.
The ground trembled violently. Whirling shockwaves carved into the cave floor, smashing, pounding, and collapsing it.
It continued until the moment it made contact.
Overwhelming power.
The technique compensated for its lack of precision with raw might.
Namgoong Hwashin, for a fleeting moment, saw his older brother. He felt the presence of the Azure Qilin, his elder sibling.
The figure of Jung Yeonshin, overlapped with the spirit of Namgoong Se-jin, the Azure Qilin.
It was but an instant—a realm where every second was critical.
A colorless protective shield of inner energy appeared at Dokgo Gwang's waist. It was a display of astonishing internal energy control.
The shield had a texture so solid it appeared almost like glass, a defensive manifestation of energy.
At that moment, Dokgo Gwang and Jung Yeonshin's gazes met.
"...!"
Dokgo Gwang's eyes widened as if they would tear apart.
It was the sudden insight of a master—he sensed death.
The boy's indifferent, radiant gaze was approaching without hesitation, compressing a pure white glow within his palm.
BOOOOM!
Direct hit. The explosion occurred as it struck the protective shield at Dokgo Gwang's side. The ground of the cave shook violently in an instant.
A deafening crash echoed in all directions. The reverberations pressed on the air as if the echoes themselves had physical weight.
It wasn't over. Jung Yeonshin emerged from the massive cloud of dust, unscathed.
Blood and debris swirled behind the fluttering hem of his long coat.
Beyond the faintly opened space, Dokgo Gwang's upper body was flying through the air. Instant death.
He wielded light. His nickname was true to form. His perception and reaction were astonishingly sharp.
In an instant, he slipped between Ma Jin of the Radiant Demon Squad and the supreme masters of Pure Demon Alliance as if threading a needle.
Thwack!
A descending strike aimed at Ma Jin's right arm was intercepted. It was caught by a smaller hand.
It was Jung Yeonshin's Golden Hand—a move that seized the lethal strike of a supreme Pure Demon Alliance master.
"Who… are you?"
The Pure Demon Alliance elitr, Ha Yul-geuk, asked, his golden hair and blue eyes sharp. His tone was clipped and precise.
Sensing the extraordinary force emanating from Jung Yeonshin, he had sought to end the battle quickly.
Even when Radiant River exploded, only he and Ma Jin had not faltered.
Silence had already fallen.
The battle across the battlefield had come to a halt.
From the Desolate Fortress, Pure Demon Alliance, Ten Perfection Sect, Tang Clan, Beggars' Sect, and other major factions, as well as countless smaller sect warriors, all turned their gazes silently.
They all stared at the very center of this battlefield.
"You're no ordinary foe. I must kill you here and now."
The words of the demonic master were harsh and daring.
Ha Yul-geuk of the Pure Demon Alliance poured energy into his strike. A terrifying demonic force began to stir.
The flow of air around them shifted erratically. Yet, Jung Yeonshin's hand did not budge.
The grip only grew stronger.
Transcending Law Radiant Wheel.
It was an energy imbued with the sacred power of Buddhist law, constantly flowing.
"...."
Jung Yeonshin said nothing.
Gripping the hand that had taken his uncle's arm, his eyes gleamed with a brilliant white light.
The young grandmaster.
He began to breathe with divine power.