CHAPTER 119

'When I gave it a name and endowed it with identity, the Jung Clan Movement Arts was born.'

Jung Yeonshin thought. It was no coincidence that fragments of the Jung Clan Movement Arts's mnemonic, woven during his childhood, resurfaced.

A martial art ingrained in the body was the strongest weapon. Facing a formidable foe, he recalled it.

The boy could recite more than three hundred mnemonics like a thunderclap. Creating a new technique mid-battle seemed impossible.

A great enemy stood before him.

The aged swordsman, Sword-Thirst Demon Dokgo Gwang.

He was a top-level master of the Ten Perfection Sect.

The man, dressed in a general's robe, emanated an imposing aura befitting his attire.

He was a renowned martial artist of the Thirteen Heavens Grand Sect, said to rival the black ranks of the Desolate Fortress.

The wrinkles around his eyes bore the weight of his experience in the martial world.

'The strongest opponent among life-and-death battles.'

Jung Yeonshin thought.

This man was on a different level from all he had risked his life against, including Namgoong Se-jin, the Azure Qilin.

Even if the Azure Qilin's techniques were overwhelming, the aura of this middle-aged master felt even more terrifying.

It wasn't a matter of skill—it was sheer mastery.

"Young prodigy, what are you doing? Luck favors us; you cannot afford leisure."

"..."

Though Dokgo Gwang beckoned him, Yeonshin didn't approach immediately.

If granted time to strategize, even a slight increase in his odds of victory mattered. It was to analyze the opponent and ponder techniques.

He cursed his Baihui acupoint.

'He's a master with a wide sword domain. His internal energy is immense. His range of destructive force must be vast.'

Yeonshin studied his opponent's body closely. Approaching rashly with a barehanded technique would result in decapitation.

The enemy, holding a greatsword loosely, showed no openings. His energy flow was dense.

Thus—

The initial move had to be the Radiance Sword Style. It was inevitable.

Sssk.

He grounded his foot, twisting sideways with weight behind it.

The Jung Clan Movement Arts concentrated his calf's gastrocnemius muscle, unleashing explosive force.

The stone surface beneath his feet felt faintly soft.

Simultaneously, his entire meridians reacted. Alongside the sword mnemonic, his internal energy surged from the Jung Clan Movement Arts.

The sword technique was drawn from the cliffs of Mount Zhongnan. The sword aura in the Desolate Blade warmed instantly.

It was the prelude to a rapid sword strike.

Clang!

Extending his leg, he struck with his sword. The horizontal slash burst outward from within.

Air split apart. The pale blade drew a straight line, faintly glowing.

Clang!

The Desolate Blade clashed with the greatsword. An overwhelming force coursed down the blade.

The vibration shook his grip, numbing his fingers.

'The sword energy is different.'

Yeonshin gritted his teeth, clenching the vibrating blade.

He understood immediately. He was outmatched in internal energy. The years of cultivation between them were vast.

It was remarkable that the Desolate Blade wasn't shattered in that instant. That was the extent of Dokgo Gwang's sword force.

"Your skills are astonishing. Far beyond appearance."

Dokgo Gwang spoke, his neatly groomed beard shifting slightly.

His lips formed a faint smile—admiration, yet also composure.

He spoke while their blades were locked, something only unequal opponents would do.

'This won't work by force. I have to win with skill.'

Yeonshin didn't prolong the clash. He immediately twisted his body.

Zzzzt!

The Desolate Blade slid down Dokgo Gwang's greatsword. The texture against his grip was unbearably rough.

Something more than the blade's edge surrounded the sword—a materialized form of energy.

It meant Dokgo Gwang had fully developed his greatsword techniques.

In the martial world, greatswords existed to shatter protective energy barriers.

They were designed to crush internal energy armor, such as defensive auras and true energy shields, through raw sword force.

Yeonshin's defensive aura wasn't deeply cultivated. A direct hit would cleave him in two.

'I have to avoid direct clashes.'

Yeonshin spun like a leaf on the wind. Dokgo Gwang's heavy kick brushed past his waist.

A massive energy wave burst forth. It struck his side, causing his upper body to lurch from the impact, like a thunderclap detonating inside.

Simultaneously, Dokgo Gwang's kick transitioned into a step, swinging his sword horizontally to cleave Yeonshin.

It carried an incredible surge of energy, distorting the air with its force.

Terrifying. Dokgo Gwang released energy surpassing Yeonshin's, turning every movement into an attack form.

Boom!

Yeonshin bent backward like an iron bridge, barely avoiding the strike.

He had internalized techniques typically mastered only by seasoned martial artists.

The massive blade swept past his eyes, sending a gust that made his hair rise.

'This is it.'

A glimmer of blue light crossed Yeonshin's vision. He contracted his muscles from glutes to thighs.

With power channeled through the Jung Clan Movement Arts, he struck.

Swish—!

The tip of his sword aimed for Dokgo Gwang's arm, exploiting the opening left by the horizontal slash.

The faint light of the Radiant Sword Style cut a sharp line.

But then—

Dokgo Gwang's hand, gripping the greatsword, emitted pressure. No preliminary motion—

An invisible surge of energy expanded instantly.

Whoosh!

Like an erupting wall, it bore down on Yeonshin.

His blade and body trembled mid-strike.

Losing balance meant death.

Yeonshin steadied himself by pressing one arm to the ground and thrusting his leg upward.

Channeling energy into the acupoint of his big toe, he struck out with a short, sharp kick.

Boom!

A deafening collision.

They clashed with kicks—contesting power and technique.

Dokgo Gwang raised his greatsword overhead to cleave him, while Yeonshin, balancing on one hand, delivered a counter-kick.

The central impact radiated outward, cracking the ground and scattering debris.

It was a battle of internal energy and strikes.

"Hm?"

Dokgo Gwang's once-composed brow furrowed slightly.

The storm of energy halted—Yeonshin's kick had disrupted its flow.

He'd splintered the vortex with opposing currents.

An anomaly rarely seen. He had devised a new method of counter-energy manipulation mid-battle.

And in an instant.

Dokgo Gwang shuddered, as if witnessing a mythical beast hatch.

"Pity your age."

Confirming their power gap, Dokgo Gwang hesitated to deliver the final blow, sighing instead.

Yeonshin had bested him in technique but lacked strength. Killing him felt regrettable.

Yeonshin steadied his stance, blood trailing from his lips.

'I couldn't bridge the gap in power.'

No matter the density of his Jung Clan Movement Arts's energy, this opponent couldn't be overcome by body-forging techniques alone.

"Had you trained for just one more year, it might've been different. Your talent is astounding."

Dokgo Gwang's voice carried admiration.

Yet his composure masked the ruthless resolve of a master.

"The Imperial family's sword cannot grow unchecked. Exceptional prodigy—you must die here."

"..."

Yeonshin lowered his stance, preparing his next move.

Just then—

Tap.

A firm yet familiar grip touched his nape.

It was as solid as stone, carrying a gentle breeze of energy—Radiant Demon Squad's clarity.

"You've come far and grown strong, but..."

A quick whisper reached his ear, wrapped in practiced breathing.

"Don't die here, youngest."

The Radiant Demon Squad's warrior pulled him back.

Yeonshin resisted, ready to spring again.

But then—

A pale, cold hand blocked him.

Standing with her back to him was Baek Miryeo.

Her blue robe bore the marks of fierce battle. Loose hair testified to the intensity.

"Yeonshin, focus on treating your injuries first. Prioritize."

Her detached tone carried concern.

"So, everyone's watching the acting leader lose. Well, it's no surprise against an opponent like that. Winning would be stranger. Sword-Thirst Demon Dokgo Gwang is a master who could sweep across all of Sichuan. He's a powerhouse who rarely finds an equal."

Flame Dragon approached with a faint smile, his steps unhurried.

His appearance told another story. How much Solar Divine energy had he unleashed?

Both sleeves of his robe were completely shredded. His exposed skin was covered in sword wounds and bloodstains.

"I'll stand guard."

He positioned himself beside Baek Miryeo, his back as solid as a volcano.

Further out, the Tang siblings and other Tang Clan martial artists had formed a perimeter. Among the Returning Wings Squad, Crimson Noon Sword secured the rear.

The rest were still locked in fierce combat.

"Martial disciple, focus your breathing."

The boy knew he had no other choice.

"Fine."

Recovery had to come first. He decided to trust Chung Myung. He recalled what was said upon joining Radiant Demon Squad.

That Chung Myung had once faced Namgoong's strongest young master, even after the latter had joined the Thirteen Heavens.

'Then maybe... this is the time to create a new technique.'

He thought of transforming his internal energy—something he hadn't attempted due to constant battles.

It was ironic.

If he could stabilize his injuries with breathing techniques, he might have enough time to invent a new martial art.

But then—

"Treasure! The treasure has been stolen!"

"The southeast entrance! Over there, over there!"

"A terrifying master! Form ranks!"

Shouts echoed from afar. The already chaotic battlefield erupted into further turmoil.

Jung Yeonshin hadn't even managed to sit in meditation when he felt an irregular surge of energy.

Power approached like a bat with wings of a divine bird—graceful, yet ominous.

'Here it comes!'

Whoosh!

Before he could process it, it was upon him, carrying the scent of blood.

"I've missed you."

Silken black hair fluttered, momentarily obscuring his vision. The owner of the chilling aura stood before him.

Her crimson lips curved in a smooth arc, her blood-red eyes gleaming seductively.

The Blood Flame Cult's Seventh Apostle.

She had pierced through the formation of Desolate Fortress' guards in an instant.

"What…!"

Yeonshin saw the usually imperturbable Flame Dragon turn in shock.

Baek Miryeo reacted faster, but with her back already pierced by a wound, her movements were sluggish.

The Tang siblings and Crimson Noon Sword fell where they stood the moment the Seventh Apostle snapped her fingers.

They had been paralyzed by energy strikes launched from her fingertips.

At that moment, Yeonshin was already counterattacking. His blue sleeve fluttered.

A vortex of energy formed around his outstretched fist—Infinite Blossom Fist Strike, Second Form, Formidable Wall, driving a fierce blow.

"Your talent, your energy, your expression, your body… You're even more polished than before. Seeing you up close, you're dazzling. Truly, truly mesmerizing."

The Seventh Apostle whispered, gently deflecting his punch with an outstretched hand.

Whoosh—

Her crimson silk robe flared outward.

The whirlwind of energy that followed dyed the surroundings red.

In an instant, only Yeonshin and the Seventh Apostle remained in the center. No one could see them.

At the same time, her hand glided along Yeonshin's arm.

Was she even human?

Her touch was as soft as if she had never trained martial techniques.

She pushed his elbow inward while her other hand covered his lips. It was over in a blink.

"...!"

Something foreign entered his mouth.

The Apostle's fingers briefly lingered on his lips before gliding down his cheek and neck.

Yeonshin tried to twist his body, activating the Jung Clan Movement Arts, but he was too slow. His internal injuries delayed his response.

By the time her fingers brushed his throat and withdrew, he hadn't managed to counter a single move.

Her speed was incredible. Every exchange of techniques had occurred within the domain of the Desolate Blade's shadow.

"May you enjoy a long life. That was a fragment of Dharma's true energy."

The Seventh Apostle's lips moved. Her crimson robe coiled back around her body as if alive.

"We still need to finish our game. See you later."

With a sly smile, she stepped off the ground.

The burst of wind that followed carried a faint crimson hue.

She soared with blinding speed, untouchable, leaving Flame Dragon staring blankly as he landed moments later.

"What just happened...? Leader, are you alive?"

"Guard the perimeter."

Yeonshin's voice was short and sharp. He had no choice.

The moment the Apostle forced something into his body, an overwhelming surge of energy erupted inside him, like clouds blossoming.

He instinctively knew—this was his only chance to escape death's reach.

"Senior! To the rear!"

"Form ranks! Regular methods won't work against those demonic creatures!"

The battlefield was chaos. Their numbers had dwindled drastically.

Only Baek Miryeo, who was injured, and Flame Dragon, the unnamed disciple, remained nearby.

Yeonshin closed his eyes and sat cross-legged.

At that moment—

A flower of light bloomed in his upper dantian.

Radiance flooded his mind.