This is undoubtedly the essence of the Jeong Family’s Dynamic Gong.
That night was overcast.
An elderly man of high status secretly shed tears.
In his arms was the manuscript of the Jeong Family’s Dynamic Gong, protected from harm by his son, Ma Jin.
The old man cherished the martial arts manual left behind by his grandson as though it were a treasure.
While Jeong Yeon-shin had described it as an excellent technique for nurturing vitality, Ma Yeon-jeok, with his extensive experience in the martial world, knew better.
The technique not only invigorated muscles and blood flow but also honed all the major and minor meridians throughout the body.
It was a martial art that transformed the flesh into a divine body, a gift from the heavens. A profound and mysterious cultivation method—a true divine art.
Ma Yeon-jeok was a peerless master.
Even the level of complete control over his internal energy, something most martial artists could only dream of, was merely the foundation for him.
This remained true even after the unity of his essence, energy, and spirit had been shattered.
The only part of him that had deteriorated was his body. His aging frame, corroded by time, could no longer endure the burdens of his domineering martial arts.
Yet, his sharp mind and sublime internal energy remained as potent as ever.
They were just as sharp and profound as in his youth when he had lived as the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
“Your father,” Ma Yeon-jeok began, recalling an abrupt moment when he sensed the presence of the Blood Flame Cult Leader while at the Ipwang Fortress’s main branch. He had called his son, Ma Jin, to speak.
“He does not regret sending his daughter away like that.”
“To protect Sang-a’s happiness and preserve the family’s honor, even now, there would have been no other choice.”
“...”
“It would have been better if we could have prevented that man Jeong Pan-ak from meeting her in the first place.”
“A lifelong regret,” Ma Jin admitted quietly.
“Yeon-shin is a blessing. He must be protected. However, the presence of that sinister blood fiend lingering around him is troubling. It seems as though it has set its sights on him.”
“Are you certain it is the Blood Flame Cult Leader? Then... does this mean the Elder Council Leader is truly...”
“It seems that fate has come to claim me. That which I could not accomplish even as the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, I must now attempt to achieve.”
“Will you be able to manage it?”
“Manage...? There is something you must understand. Among the masters of the martial world, there are very few who remain stagnant. Unless, like myself, their path is obstructed by the natural course of heaven, even the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens and the leaders of the Nine Great Sects continue to grow. They are all madmen devoted to the martial path. Not one of them remains complacent. Moreover...”
“...?”
“I am no exception.”
The Jeong Family’s Dynamic Gong revealed its secrets to Ma Yeon-jeok at once.
A peerless master capable of the Great Circulation of Heavenly Energy on par with the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, he immediately grasped the essence of the technique.
His understanding penetrated the core principles of the method, allowing him to circulate his energy unceasingly at a dazzling speed.
His body gradually began to recover. The technique exhibited an almost miraculous ability.
The manual, which had accompanied his grandson through his youth, felt like the gentle hand of a mother soothing his weary limbs and meridians.
His internal energy flowed warmly.
Essence, energy, and spirit are fundamental. Essence is the body itself, while spirit resides in the mind, uniting to form the soul.
Energy, for a martial artist, is the internal power assimilated from the forces of nature. By cultivating the Jeong Family’s Dynamic Gong with unprecedented speed, Ma Yeon-jeok once again achieved the unity of essence, energy, and spirit.
It happened while he was pursuing the Blood Flame Cult Leader.
In that moment, amidst the profound joy suffusing his body, an understanding blossomed like a lotus flower.
Annihilation, liberation, transcendence... Words borrowed from Buddhist scriptures to poetically describe the realizations of martial artists coursed through Ma Yeon-jeok’s mind.
Simultaneously—
Separate from the Jeong Family’s Dynamic Gong, another cherished manuscript he had carried for years seemed to unravel in his consciousness.
It was as though the pages were turning on their own, the text inscribing itself into his understanding.
When his entire being was elevated by the renewed unity of essence, energy, and spirit, a particular form of study surged to its zenith.
It all happened in a matter of moments.
A fortuitous encounter. A serendipitous event.
Perhaps it was the result of the emotional toll he had endured while watching his grandson grow into his true nature.
For Ma Yeon-jeok, all that was needed now was time to consolidate this realization.
Even if the Blood Flame Cult Leader had anticipated the clash between the Tang Clan and the Thirteen Heavens and sent his subordinates ahead to lie in ambush, it made no difference.
The former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps had resolved to stake everything.
“The Divine Sword of Ipwang Fortress will fade alongside righteousness.”
The old man made his decision. He would incinerate all the dangers threatening his grandson and the common people with his own hands.
Even if it meant his body would burn to ash.
It was the right thing to do.
***
The Outer Courtyard of Tang Manor
Ma Yeon-jeok had declared to his grandson that he would show him the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
"..."
The words ushered in a heavy silence.
The reputation of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps of Ipwang Fortress echoed even to the furthest reaches of Zhongnan. For such a statement to come from an old master, whose prime had been spent shedding blood and whose strength had since waned, seemed almost unbelievable.
“How intriguing.”
A smooth voice resonated from above. It was the Blood Flame Cult Leader, standing elegantly at the edge of a roof.
His crimson lips curved into an arc of amusement.
“Yeon-jeok, Yeon-jeok. I remember you as the black-clad fledgling of yore. Your youthful audacity is still vivid in my memory. Back then, alongside the Nine Great Sects’ fledglings, you dared to block this one’s path with your so-called Huashan Accord,” he said, referring to the overblown pact with a mocking sneer.
His words were long-winded.
Ma Yeon-jeok understood why. A glance at the Cult Leader’s demeanor and aura was enough to piece it together.
Ssssss—
The Blood Flame Cult Leader’s white hair shimmered like a heatwave.
The space around him rippled as though scorched by invisible flames.
The crimson veins running along the back of his pale hand pulsed grotesquely.
Though his faint smile exuded charm, to Ma Yeon-jeok, it was clear bravado.
The Cult Leader could barely contain his overwhelming energy. He was stalling for time.
Even for a being beyond human lineage, there were limits.
‘Blood Flame Cult Leader. Even if you’re not fully human, you’re still bound by the same laws.’
Heaven does not permit any one individual to wield boundless power.
This also applied to the time required to master such power. Martial artists could not refine their energy overnight. It demanded prolonged absorption of nature’s essence, painstakingly cultivated through meticulous training.
Blood Energy was no exception to this rule. The laws of nature dictated it so.
‘The Cult Leader cannot fully contain the energy of the Ten Thousand Gates Sect Leader.’
Ma Yeon-jeok saw his opportunity.
To fully assimilate the profound energy of the Sect Leader would have required years, if not decades, of secluded training to stabilize it.
The Cult Leader’s current power was dangerously unstable.
This lack of precision made his techniques crude and left openings in his form.
The resistance of the Ten Thousand Gates Sect Leader had also been formidable.
Using his profound insight, Ma Yeon-jeok had observed their clash from a distance, capturing the subtle details through the lens of his advanced martial senses.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader had used his Concealed Blood Energy Technique to blend into the shadows and strike when the Sect Leader’s focus had shifted to Jeong Yeon-shin and the Tang Clan master.
With his fangs, he had sunk deep into the Sect Leader’s nape.
For any other opponent, that would have been the end.
But it wasn’t.
What followed was a battle fought at a range so close it defied description.
The Sect Leader, even while subdued, had summoned his internal energy armor, transforming it into spikes that pierced the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s body.
The display of energy manipulation was so masterful that even Ma Yeon-jeok had been momentarily taken aback.
Even in such a hopelessly disadvantageous position, the Sect Leader had inflicted significant damage.
Had the Cult Leader lacked regenerative capabilities, they both would have perished.
The energy waves unleashed had been so intense that even the bloodstains had evaporated instantly.
And yet, the Cult Leader endured.
He sought two things: the profound energy of the Sect Leader and an opportunity to sever the roots of the orthodox sects.
From the sheer overwhelming force radiating from him, it seemed as though anything was within reach.
Ma Yeon-jeok’s sharp eyes assessed his opponent like a duelist ready for a life-or-death battle.
The Cult Leader, his lips stained with blood, spoke again, his words slow and deliberate.
“Your Huashan Accord was such a bothersome pact. I regret not spilling a little more blood that day, letting you seven fledglings escape. Three of them are now Sect Leaders, and you, Yeon-jeok, wear the purple robes of the elite. I suppose the pact will pass to a new generation, stirring the winds once more.”
“...”
“I see your martial prowess has returned to astonishing levels. But can you stand against Yong Ga? Thinking of him makes your words seem grandiose. Ah, but I suppose your grandson’s presence fills you with courage, hmm? The spirit of a grandfather—truly admirable.”
The current Commander of the Divine Sword Corps bore the surname Yong.
These individuals stood at the apex of the martial world.
It was inevitable for them to either know one another personally or to have gathered extensive intelligence about each other’s appearances and movements.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader’s light provocation was a prelude to the impending clash.
Ma Yeon-jeok remained silent.
Step.
Clutching the famed blade Bowol in his hand, he took a step forward without a word.
Having fully assessed his opponent, there was no reason to prolong this any further.
The old man held a single hope in his heart: that this life-or-death duel would imprint itself onto his grandson’s innate talent, guiding him toward the transcendent realm in the future.
Boom!
With a single measured step, the ground beneath Ma Yeon-jeok’s feet split open. The force of his movement caused a tremor akin to an earthquake.
As onlookers swayed and scrambled to steady themselves, the old man had already ascended into the air, hovering face-to-face with the Blood Flame Cult Leader.
The edge of the roof became their battlefield as the two titans locked eyes.
An extraordinary aura radiated from both figures, enveloping their bodies and distorting the very air around them.
Beneath the violet sleeves of Ma Yeon-jeok’s robe, the pristine white blade of Bowol gleamed like a dragon’s fang.
An invisible, monumental force spiraled around the blade, its resonance tearing through space itself.
With a diagonal slash, Ma Yeon-jeok initiated the first strike, his feet defying gravity as he moved.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader responded with a crimson smile, raising his pale hand to intercept the force of the blade.
Zzzzzzing—!
The clash of blade and palm created a piercing resonance, sending violent ripples through the surrounding air.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader’s technique was laced with the experience and intent of centuries of existence, infused with the immense power of the Ten Thousand Gates Sect Leader’s energy. His palm met the gleaming blade of Bowol, scattering mist-like blood into the air.
Ma Yeon-jeok’s expression remained impassive. His hand, gripping the blade, released a wave-like force.
In the blink of an eye, he employed a technique of the highest order, redirecting the overwhelming impact from his wrist into the void—a maneuver so seamless it seemed otherworldly.
Crack!
The roof beneath the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s feet shattered, the force of the exchange causing the structure to collapse entirely.
The destruction was accompanied by an explosion akin to dozens of thunderbolts striking at once.
The shockwave tore through the six-story building, reducing it to rubble as it cascaded to the ground. Waves of energy radiated outward, clawing through the surroundings.
Deep, jagged trenches stretched in all directions, raising clouds of yellow dust that engulfed the battlefield.
At the epicenter of this cataclysmic explosion, Ma Yeon-jeok’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly.
The vampiric fiend demonstrated an elegant movement technique mid-air.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader, his hands clasped behind his back, gracefully navigated through the debris of the shattered pavilion, using the airborne fragments as footholds to confound Ma Yeon-jeok’s gaze.
His silken white hair fluttered softly, his movements refined, exuding an air of dignity.
In this single exchange, he had lost nothing.
Unlike Ma Yeon-jeok, whose overexerted right arm veins throbbed with strain as his power surged toward its peak.
"It hurts."
The old man thought grimly. The ache in his wrist felt as irritating as the persistent ailments of aging.
It was as if small firecrackers had detonated inside his body. The swirling storm of force he had endured was monstrous.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader.
He had regenerative capabilities on top of his immense power. He had achieved something close to perfection.
It was as if he intended to challenge the lord of Ipwang Fortress himself.
Ma Yeon-jeok took another step through the void.
His sharp black eyes tracked the chaotic movement of the Blood Flame Cult Leader, following him meticulously as he weaved through the air.
When his eyes finally locked onto the white-haired figure, the old man took a single step that seemed to distort space itself.
It was a masterful void-stepping technique, imbued with an almost mystical precision.
In an instant, Ma Yeon-jeok cut off the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s path, appearing directly before him.
His violet robes billowed grandly in the air.
Once again, the Bowol blade pulsed with a formidable energy wave, while the Cult Leader’s pale fingers twitched with ominous intent.
The white arc that Ma Yeon-jeok unleashed descended swiftly and powerfully.
The sheer force of the blade’s trajectory threatened to shatter the air itself.
The Cult Leader intercepted the strike with the back of his hand, but the explosive force emanating from the blade caused a powerful impact on his flesh.
BOOM!
A deafening roar filled the battlefield. The clash of swordsmanship and strikes resonated as if they belonged to entirely different realms.
Each slash carried a mastery that had reached the extreme—a perfection of cutting and breaking.
The sheer technique was unparalleled.
From this moment, the duel between the two transcendent masters unfolded in mid-air.
Their overlapping silhouettes blurred into a dance of destruction, obscuring the twilight sky.
Even the winds generated by their evasive maneuvers turned into violent tempests.
The collateral damage began to consume Tang Manor’s outer courtyard, reducing it to ruins.
Rumble!
The ground trembled violently. The tremors spanned the entire courtyard and its surroundings.
Ancient trees toppled, their leaves scattering in the whirlwind. Deep gashes etched into the earth, spreading in every direction, marked the devastation.
Screams—!
Shouts—!
Nearby, warriors from the Ten Thousand Gates Sect, the Tang Clan, and the Blood Flame Cult fell one after another. The sheer force of the duel carved through even the strongest among them.
Ma Yeon-jeok’s emitted energy was like a tidal wave, a relentless surge that crushed everything in its path.
The old man paid no mind to the carnage below.
Having mastered a martial path of unyielding power, he found himself at a disadvantage against the Blood Flame Cult Leader.
Ma Yeon-jeok’s swordsmanship revolved around wielding immense strength with unparalleled precision, but the Cult Leader, bolstered by the stolen energy of the Ten Thousand Gates Sect Leader, made the battle grueling.
With every exchange, Ma Yeon-jeok was forced to divert the excess force of his opponent's attacks, employing masterful redirection techniques.
Each clash demanded double the effort, yet he held his ground against the monster.
He exploited the gaps in the Cult Leader’s flawed techniques, delivering slashes that tore through the man’s body.
But each time, the Cult Leader’s regenerative powers sealed the wounds instantly.
Ma Yeon-jeok was not unscathed either.
The overwhelming energy of the Blood Flame Art battered his internal defenses. Bloodstains began to appear across his robust frame.
"What is this bastard planning?"
The old man wondered.
Was the Cult Leader buying time to stabilize the energy he had absorbed from the Sect Leader? Or was he preparing to unleash a decisive, lethal move?
The answer revealed itself soon enough. After nearly fifty exchanges, the Cult Leader’s movements shifted.
His blood-red eyes turned downward, his gaze piercing through the chaos of the battlefield.
"Regroup your formations!"
"Fall back! Poisonous traps have been deployed!"
"Stay away from the Elder! Do not engage his sword technique directly!"
Below them, the chaos had erupted into an all-out brawl. The warriors of the Ten Thousand Gates Sect, driven by rage over their leader’s fall, fought with a ferocity unmatched.
Blood Flame Cult members scattered across the battlefield, unleashing indiscriminate bursts of energy, slaughtering friend and foe alike.
Meanwhile, the Tang Clan held their ground in the ruins of Tang Manor. The famed Mancheonhwa blades soared through the air, blooming into deadly arcs of crimson as they cut down their enemies.
Amidst this storm of violence, Jeong Yeon-shin stood alone, cutting down a dozen Blood Flame Cult warriors with his jet-black robes flowing like a shroud of death.
Not a single opponent lasted beyond two exchanges. He carved out space for himself amid the chaos.
"There he is."
The Blood Flame Cult Leader’s gaze finally locked onto the young warrior.
It was clear that he intended to disrupt Ma Yeon-jeok by targeting the boy.
"Blood Flame Cult Leader."
Jeong Yeon-shin had already been observing the duel between his grandfather and the Cult Leader.
His mind raced as he processed the chaos around him.
Elite warriors of the Blood Flame Cult moved with the precision of those who directly served their master, wielding techniques that rivaled even the strongest warriors of the Indigo Rank from Ipwang Fortress.
The battlefield descended into a hellish melee as warriors clashed, oblivious to alliances or consequences.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his focus forward.
Amid the chaos, a new, terrifying presence loomed—descending upon him with monstrous speed.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader moved like a falling star, his crimson robes whipping in a violent gale.
His smile, sharp and menacing, sent shivers down Jeong Yeon-shin’s spine.
But then, just as the Cult Leader closed in, something changed.
The air behind the Blood Flame Cult Leader twisted violently, and a familiar figure emerged.
A man in a violet cloak—Ma Yeon-jeok—descended like a storm, his face grim and fierce.
With a masterful void step, Ma Yeon-jeok closed the distance in an instant.
CRACK!
The old man’s hand shot out, gripping the Cult Leader’s white hair with an ironclad grasp.
At the same moment, the Cult Leader’s blade-like hand pierced through Ma Yeon-jeok’s abdominal defenses, ripping through flesh with a sickening sound.
Th𝓮 most uptodate nov𝑒ls are publish𝒆d on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.
A mocking smile spread across the Cult Leader’s face as he gloated.
"Caught you, old fool. The world feared you, but I do not. The Ma clan of Ipwang Fortress is weak."
Both masters fell to the ground together, their forms locked in a deadly embrace.
"Vampiric fiend, that stings."
Ma Yeon-jeok’s lips curled into a twisted grin.
Despite his injuries, the old man did not release his grip. His towering form loomed over the Cult Leader, his massive hand still clutching the fiend’s head.
A cold, azure flame began to bloom from Ma Yeon-jeok’s hand.
"What...?"
For the first time, the Cult Leader’s expression faltered. His body convulsed as his strength began to drain.
The brilliant crimson of his eyes flickered unsteadily as he felt the cold, spiritual force creeping into his being.
It was a power beyond martial techniques—a divine force that transcended mortal comprehension.
The azure flame spread rapidly, consuming the two figures in a pillar of ethereal fire.
Every movement on the battlefield came to a halt as all eyes turned to the spectacle.
The blue inferno roared, its size growing exponentially as it pierced the heavens.
"This is... impossible!" The Cult Leader screamed, his voice twisted with desperation.
Ma Yeon-jeok’s voice, calm and resolute, cut through the chaos.
"As the Divine Sword of Ipwang Fortress, I ascend to the heavens."
The flame surged with unstoppable power, a transcendent force that defied all logic.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader’s screams echoed as the azure inferno devoured him whole.