Chapter 79

Cheonma Church Main Hall.

That building was constructed atop terrain where limestone-rich soil had eroded away, leaving only hard rock formations standing like a forest of stone pillars.

From the outside, it looked like a massive structure perched on countless towering rock columns.

But in reality, it was a fortress designed to guard against intruders. Buildings stood atop the stone pillars, connected by walled and roofed passageways.

The layout was so complex that anyone entering recklessly would end up wandering endlessly between the pillar-top houses in confusion.

But to those who’d lived there long enough, this maze-like structure was no different from an ordinary home.

To most Cheonma Church members, especially the man they called “Church Master” from the south, the main hall was like his own bedroom.

He led his followers deep into the heart of the Cheonma Church headquarters.

“Burn this place too.”

“Yes, Master.”

Jae-gyu Goo-yong, the former Church Master, gave his order, and his subordinate did as they always had: breaking a section of wall and inserting a spark through the hole.

As soon as the group left, fire erupted along the passage—not just any flame, but one laced with chemicals that burned at extreme heat once ignited.

“Do we really need to burn even here?”

A young man following behind Jae-gyu asked cautiously.

“I’m merely using the mechanism built to block paths by burning them. Worried about damaging our future living space?”

The middle-aged man’s sarcastic reply made the younger man stiffen before responding.

“I’m helping you because of a promise.”

“Good. For now, that’s all that matters.”

Without further comment, Jae-gyu entered deeper inside. Petty details weren’t important.

His goal was simple: defeat the enemy calling themselves “Cheonma,” who had driven him out, and reclaim his rightful place.

So he gathered forces and launched an assault on Cheonma Church.

In truth, more than half the sect was already under his control, making this less of an attack and more of an expulsion of outsiders. With help from insiders, they reached their target with minimal fighting.

Inside the innermost chamber, they witnessed something shocking—a middle-aged man dressed in women’s clothing.

“So, it was you, Jae-gyu. You should’ve fled after reviving; I could’ve pretended not to notice.”

The man spoke in a feminine tone.

“Jeong-ha, have you gone mad?”

Jae-gyu addressed him with disdain usually reserved for repulsive insects.

“You expected me to look like this when you gave me the Regulation Protection technique? Wasn’t this what you wanted?”

The revelation shocked everyone present.

“Regulation Protection!”

“World-defying Demon Art!”

“Absolute Divine Skill!”

All eyes turned toward Jae-gyu.

“Once you master the martial art, powerful yin energy surges within. Men face conflict between yin and yang energies leading to madness, while women can’t withstand the overwhelming yin. It’s an art beyond human capability—but you managed, didn’t you?”

Despite knowing its flaws, Jae-gyu remained calm.

He was aware the technique had been created by eunuchs and came with harsh conditions. He also knew it contained a power irresistible to martial artists, driving them to master it despite risks.

That’s why he gifted it to Cheonma without even opening it himself—fully expecting it to destroy him.

Though he hadn’t predicted the complete mental transformation into femininity, the result was satisfyingly catastrophic.

“Hmph. You talk well, Jae-gyu, but it’s too late.”

Cheonma stood up, clad in cumbersome silk robes with no weapons nearby.

While pondering his intentions, Jae-gyu raised his sword and asked.

“Too late?”

Young men and women, along with middle-aged and elderly men, also drew their swords, suspicious they might be trapped.

But there was no trap.

“Now someone capable of wielding true Cheonma Divine Skill will take Cheonma’s place—not your fake version. Jeon-yang.”

At the mention of a name, a large figure emerged from the inner chamber.

Something was off. His skin was unnaturally pale, almost sickly, and his hair and beard visible beneath his headband were vivid purple—an alien color even in this world where diverse hair colors existed.

When this bearded man grinned and lifted his sword, a bright purple aura extended like a laser blade.

Reacting instinctively to the intense energy, Jae-gyu infused his own sword with purple qi.

But upon closer inspection, there was a clear difference—like comparing water to lava in terms of intrinsic power.

“Even without the formal name-passing ceremony, this level is worthy of being called Cheonma, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s mine.”

Jeon-yang declared before charging at Jae-gyu like a speeding arrow.

“Time to enter your grave, old man!”

The clash sounded less like swords meeting and more like heavy machinery colliding.

“Womenfolk shouldn’t talk so much!”

Another man behind Jae-gyu, known as the Chief Guardian, swung his sword at Jeon-yang.

But Jeon-yang deflected it effortlessly, channeling immense power through his sword via the upper dan-tian energy center—the hallmark of true Cheonma Divine Skill.

Technically, the original Cheonma Divine Skill belonged to Jae-gyu. But if one considers the art used by the legendary Martial God who conquered the martial world under the name Cheonma, then Jeon-yang’s skill was the genuine article.

Pure energy-wise, the entire attacking force combined couldn’t match Jeon-yang. Every swing of his sword unleashed destructive power equivalent to a hurricane.

Yet combat isn’t won by brute strength alone.

Decades of experience fighting allowed Jae-gyu’s side to counter Jeon-yang’s overwhelming power with finesse—softness against hardness, curves against straight lines.

Martial arts are designed to defeat stronger opponents, so relying solely on raw power often leads to being undone by one’s own techniques.

Realizing Jeon-yang was beyond his capabilities, Jae-gyu quickly handed him off to others and pointed his sword at Jeong-ha.

“You’ve broken the taboo.”

With a smile, Jeong-ha rose from his seat.

“Yes, correct. If you know how to become a Martial God, shouldn’t you use it? Now that Jeon-yang has realized his imperfections, let’s claim your lives.”

Jeong-ha raised his hand, revealing a small fruit knife hidden beneath his flowing robes.

But as dark energy filled the blade, it transformed into a deadly weapon capable of cutting through humans.

“Ah Myeong-seong! I can’t handle this alone!”

The young man immediately joined Jae-gyu’s side, drawing his sword.

“Kiiiiing!”

They barely deflected Jeong-ha’s attack and readied their weapons.

The battle between Jeong-ha versus Jae-gyu and Ah Myeong-seong was chillingly precise.

Each strike was a masterpiece crafted from pure malice, every principle of combat condensed into a tiny fruit knife. The duo struggled desperately to block each attack.

They managed to hold their ground for two reasons:

First, Jeong-ha’s weapon was relatively small—a fruit knife.

Second, they wielded the Heupsung Grand Law, a technique capable of draining an opponent’s internal energy, similar in caliber to Regulation Protection.

Thus, they maintained a fragile balance.

Until something changed.

Meanwhile, Jeon-yang’s fight was different. The Cheonma Divine Skill fueled by constant energy supply from the upper dan-tian was less a martial art and more akin to a rampaging monster.

Initially, his opponents were overwhelmed.

Numbers mattered little when a single clash shattered both sword and user or inflicted grievous injuries akin to colliding with a boulder.

Their initial survival stemmed from Jeon-yang’s lack of combat experience—he’d been a mere enforcer before becoming a harvester.

His training consisted mostly of sparring matches with Jeong-ha, which paled in comparison to real combat.

Huge power paired with minimal experience proved disastrous.

Had he been naturally monstrous, he might’ve handled it better, but instead, it was like trying to eat soup with a bulldozer.

Small mistakes accumulated until critical wounds began slowing him down.

Certainly, he wasn’t a genius who grew stronger through battle.

Eventually, a sword cut severed vital muscles in his arm, causing him to drop his weapon. But Cheonma Divine Skill isn’t swordsmanship—he raised his fist to continue fighting.

“AAAAHHH!”

Seeing her father and lover struggling, Gu Mil-mil seized the opportunity to stab Jeon-yang deeply.

A wound here guaranteed a piercing scream.

“Jeon-yang!”

Distracted by someone significant calling his name, Jeong-ha’s focus wavered.

The delicate balance shifted.

Seizing the moment, Jae-gyu and Ah Myeong-seong each chopped off one of Jeong-ha’s arms and legs.

Jeong-ha crashed to the floor.

Yet his gaze remained fixed on Jeon-yang.

Seeing his state, Jae-gyu clicked his tongue.

“To bear the name Cheonma and look so pitiful…”

With half his makeup washed away by blood and sweat, Jeong-ha looked up at Jae-gyu.

“Old Master Goo. Spare Jeon-yang. You hate me, not him, right?”

“Of course I’ll spare him—I’m curious about the construction of someone who broke taboos.”

Jeong-ha understood what Jae-gyu meant—using him as an experimental subject.

“Flee, Jeon-yang!”

Straining his remaining limbs, he shouted desperately while lunging toward Jeon-yang.

But missing limbs slowed him significantly, giving Jae-gyu ample time to react.

Suddenly,

“Master Cheonma! You must flee!”

Eun-chwi appeared and unleashed Cheonma Divine Skill identical to Jeon-yang’s.

Realizing the danger, those fighting Jeon-yang immediately attacked her instead.

Seeing his attackers distracted, Jeon-yang wasted no time fleeing toward Jeong-ha, grabbing him and launching toward the wall.

Behind the wall lay a sheer cliff, with a long drop to the water below—so high that surviving a fall would be miraculous.

No one pursued them.

As they plummeted, Jeon-yang carefully cradled Jeong-ha above him to minimize injury.

Approaching death, he suddenly asked,

“Why did you love someone like me?”

Holding Jeong-ha close, Jeon-yang crashed into the water and died instantly.

Far above, in the damaged room, Jae-gyu watched the scene with disgust.

“How truly revolting.”

“Is it?”

An unexpected voice sounded beside him.

Turning, he saw a woman with purple hair—tall but possessing a childlike figure more than a woman’s.

Her presence was completely undetectable, as if she’d been there all along.

Physically, she appeared to be an ordinary person lacking any martial skills.

Before Jae-gyu could react, she leaped through the hole.

Unable to comprehend what was happening, he could only watch as she fell a great distance and shattered upon impact with the water.

Then something impossible occurred—the shattered corpse reassembled itself in reverse, as if rewinding time.

“Violet Light Immortal Fourfold Chaos.”

Unconsciously, Jae-gyu muttered the name of something he’d read in the Martial God’s records.

The violet-clad immortal embodying chaos and destruction.

Below lies what the Martial God deemed forbidden…

---