The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 314

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The Youngest Son of the Jin Family of Luoyang – Chapter 314

* * *

Flash—
A vast chamber draped in endless darkness.
As eyelids that had been gently closed slowly lifted, golden irises gleamed and radiated light.
In that instant, hundreds of candles scattered throughout the profound silence ignited simultaneously.
The darkness faded helplessly away, and sacred firelight illuminated the entire hall.
Then, solemn pillars revealed themselves, and golden patterns that filled the ceiling swayed as though alive and breathing.
The one who gazed down upon all of this.
The awakened man wore a subtle smile.
It was not the laughter of human joy or sorrow, but rather the divine composure possessed by one who had touched the very source of existence.
“Are they dead?”
His voice was neither thunderous nor a whisper.
With merely its resonance, it set the empty air trembling, and had anyone heard it, they would have surely bowed their head.
Yet the man calmly perceived that a single thread connected to him had been severed.
Yeom Ji-hak, Chu Won, and one more.
But he did not dwell upon who had died or what form they had taken.
They were merely fleeting flames that had vanished.
His interest lay not with the dead.
Rather, it was the strange yet familiar energy that had spread through the severing of fate that captured his gaze and fascination.
Unmistakably, the energy of one who had ascended to the seat of the Divine.
Clear and serene, yet somehow fierce and violent, while simultaneously possessing a gentleness that seemed to embrace all things, with a seething murderous intent hidden in its depths.
And the master of the primordial stone he had most desired to obtain.
“How amusing.”
A low voice spread throughout the hall.
Unlike the past, the energy had grown to an almost unbelievable magnitude, and within it dwelled a noble fragrance that could only be perceived in the heavens.
“So, the traces of the Immortal have been found.”
As the resonance erupted, the candles inscribed upon the walls flickered in unison. A path that should not be permitted, a power that could never be grasped.
Yet that someone possessed it was proof that the will of the Immortal had extended its own hand.
The man’s pupils rippled subtly.
A gaze that pierced through emptiness illuminated a place both distant and near.
“These hollow things with only will remaining… are they attempting to pull me down through that child?”
This was neither mockery nor scorn.
It was a voice like fate, spoken by one who contemplates order itself.
The man slowly rose to his feet.
Thud— Thud—
With each step, the hall trembled, and the candles burned with ever greater pathos.
As if heaven and earth itself responded to his footsteps.
With each stride across the floor, golden patterns bloomed, and the ancient inscriptions carved upon every pillar trembled as if singing in unison.
And so at last, he reached the colossal gate.
The door, untouched by his hand, split open as though it had been waiting.
As if following an order decreed long ago, welcoming the Divine itself.
The man walked that path without a moment’s hesitation.
His footsteps were not those of a mortal.
Wherever those footsteps led, the very breath of the world knelt in reverence.

* * *

The battle had ended, yet I remained trapped in this place. The thick fog still lingered, wrapping around my surroundings, and because I could not easily discern the terrain, my progress was inevitably slow.
Naturally concealing myself, I sat in a cross-legged position and began circulating my inner energy to guide my cultivation.
As I drew upon the qi accumulated in my dantian alongside the essence of the Ink Fragrance Jade Needle, the poisonous miasma lodged within my body flowed out profusely through my sweat.
It was a quantity of poison that would have meant certain death for any ordinary person, yet I endured it precisely because of the essence of the Ink Fragrance Jade Needle.
After circulating my energy for a considerable time and expelling as much poison as possible, a foul stench assaulted my nostrils.
I slowly opened my eyes.
Carefully assessing my condition, I realized I had improved significantly from before.
Though poisonous miasma still remained, I had extinguished the immediate danger, so escaping this place took priority over completely purging the toxin.
But.
“This is troublesome.”
I sighed and examined my appearance.
The virulent poison had dissolved my clothing entirely.
I had quite literally returned to my primordial state, making it difficult to leave this place and go anywhere else.
I could hardly show myself to people in such a condition.
I furrowed my brow and carefully made my way out of the area.
Walking barefoot upon the earth and brush, I expanded my senses.
It was to confirm whether any of the Sageuk Warriors might still linger.
Fortunately, sensing no trace of them, it was clear that any survivors had simply retreated.
Wandering through the fog-shrouded forest, I found a valley.
Washing my body in the flowing water and rinsing away the blood, my form became clean, yet the thick stench of blood clung stubbornly.
“I wish I could soak in warm water.”
I sighed deeply and shook my head as I moved forward.
What I needed to do was clear.
Find a way to escape?
No.
Find clothing.
I retraced my steps, surveying my surroundings.
The devastation before my eyes was scarcely believable even to me. Faced with a landscape that seemed impossible for a single person to have wrought, I offered a bitter smile.
After advancing past corpses scattered everywhere, I found one that had died relatively intact, stripped it of its garments, and dressed myself.
It was deeply unsettling, but necessity left me no choice.
Jingle—!
Then.
A bell’s chime pierced my ears from somewhere.
I suppressed my presence as much as possible, leaping high to perch atop a tree.
Expanding my senses to survey the surroundings, I felt beings entirely different from the Snake Clan’s presence converging rapidly toward this location.
I furrowed my brow and steadied my breathing.
I stilled not only my breath but even my heartbeat, my eyes darting about.
Rustle—!
As expected, numerous figures emerged from all directions with their presence. They stood motionless where the corpses lay, their expressions blank as they silently awaited someone.
I narrowed my eyes further, scrutinizing them.
Their pallid complexions bore not a trace of vitality.
Beings devoid of expression, devoid even of emotion.
As if they were dead yet alive simultaneously.
Jingle—!
As the bell chimed once more, the thick fog gradually dissipated as if being drained of blood.
The forest fell silent, and a strange energy rippled outward from the bodies of the fallen.
I clenched my fists, unable even to swallow.
A sound far too familiar.
The fact that I heard this chime meant—
“Hohoho— What is this? What fortune has befallen me?”
Mo Ryeong-san, the chief of the Snake Clan.
A figure appeared, dragging a black robe behind him, a cloth hat pressed deep upon his head.
In one hand he held a bell emanating a damp, sinister aura, while dozens of talismans hung and swayed from his waist.
An aura both sacred and profane—one that only those who command death could exude.
Mo Ryeong-san swept his gaze across the surroundings with deep-set eyes and laughed.
With each of his movements, the vacant figures shifted expressionlessly, parting to make way.
Witnessing this, I stilled my breathing even further.
The moment I was discovered, it would be over.
Mo Ryeong-san was a being incomparable to someone like Sa Myeong-gyeom.
His martial prowess rivaled Gang Cheonho’s, but the true problem lay in his Huncheon Gangsi—creatures that advanced relentlessly even with limbs severed.
Contending with such beings was already formidable, yet the number of Huncheon Gangsi he commanded was overwhelmingly superior even compared to the entire Snake Clan.
To face an endless tide of Huncheon Gangsi while crossing blades with Mo Ryeong-san?
It was not a confrontation I wished to undertake at this moment.
Thump-thump—
I struggled to suppress my racing heartbeat.
Then, as Mo Ryeong-san swept his gaze about searching for something, he finally located the corpse he desired and approached it.
“Tch— It’s been split in half.”
However, this was not the situation he wanted.
A Gangsi required an intact corpse to be of use, yet Sa Myeong-gyeom had already been cleaved in two—clearly beyond any possibility of becoming a Gangsi.
Yet the opponent smiled.
Then, crouching down, he gathered up the entrails that Sa Myeong-gyeom had spilled with his hands and forcibly stuffed them back into the corpse.
Once this incomprehensible process ended, he retrieved a needle and thread from his garment.
“Hmm-hmm-hmm.”
The sight of him humming while stitching the split corpse back together was utterly revolting, yet I could not let it show.
I forced myself to suppress my breathing, which threatened to become ragged.
Stitch by stitch, with meticulous care, Sa Myeong-gyeom’s corpse gradually regained its original form.
Yet the grotesque appearance remained unchanged.
It was while he continued stitching and humming in this manner.
“…!”
Suddenly, sensing an intense presence, I held my breath.
A chill ran down my spine, as if blood were being drained from my body.
My body stiffened as though frozen, and my eyes, now rippling with shock, could not tear away from a single point.
“Ugh-! What is this? Why is the smell of blood so thick? It reeks of blood everywhere, damn it.”
Along with an unrestrained voice, a man appeared. Displeased by the blood on his feet, he furrowed his brow and plugged his nose with his hand.
The man then approached Mo Ryeong-san without hesitation, leaning forward with curiosity to see what he was doing.
“What are you doing?”
“Hehe- Can’t you see? I’m stitching it back together.”
You do all your disgusting work alone, don’t you? You evil spirit bastard.”
Unbothered by such words, Mo Ryeong-san simply smiled.
“And what brings you here? Surely not to capture Sa Myeong-gyeom.”
At those words, the man—Gang Cheonho—bared his fangs in a grin.
“Capture? I came to kill. You touched my prey. But now that I see it… it was a wasted trip. Puhaha!”
“Your comrade is dead, yet you laugh?”
“Huh? Watch your tongue, you little rat, before I crush you. That bastard could never be my comrade.”
At those words, Mo Ryeong-san’s stitching hand stopped.
Soon, his eyes, which had been fixed on Sa Myeong-gyeom’s corpse, slowly turned toward Gang Cheonho.
His crimson eyes radiated a chilling aura.
“Hehe- Do you perhaps wish to become a gangsi as well?”
Kwaaaaaaack-!
The moment those words ended.
The auras of Mo Ryeong-san and Gang Cheonho collided.
A massive boulder cracked and shattered, and trees swayed and snapped under the rushing gale.
The scattered corpses could not withstand the force and burst apart, creating the illusion of a natural disaster unfolding.
Fortunately, we were at a considerable distance.
“Hmph! That’s enough. I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let it slide.”
Unwilling to engage in needless conflict, Gang Cheonho withdrew his momentum and turned away.
“Hehe- What has you in such a good mood? The collapse of the Snake Clan?”
“No, that damned Young Master is becoming more and more interesting to hunt.”
Gang Cheonho looked around, baring his fangs in a grin.
I could not call it total annihilation, but fighting the Snake Clan alone, I had killed Gak-ju and created this catastrophe.
It meant I had grown incomparably compared to the Northern Ice Palace—for Gang Cheonho, who craved battle, this was an ideal situation.
Mo Ryeong-san, understanding this, laughed softly.
“Hehe—don’t let your guard down. You’ll end up like this.”
“Hehehehe, the fun is in whether you devour or get devoured.”
Gang Cheonho, his lips curved in an impossibly dark smile, walked away without hesitation, waving his hand.
Then his voice cut through the air with a chilling edge.
“You should be careful too. Playing tricks with that Moyong bastard against the Young Master—you’ll pay dearly for it.”
“Hehehehe—.”
“Anyway, I’m leaving! The stench of blood is so overwhelming my nose is about to rot!”
Gang Cheonho hurled himself away, vanishing from the scene.
Whether sickened by the thick reek of blood, his escape was impossibly swift.
But my gaze did not follow Gang Cheonho.
Only Mo Ryeong-san.
The one stitching corpses together watched Gang Cheonho disappear for a long moment, then turned his head toward somewhere else.
The instant I naturally followed his gaze to that place.
“…!”
Then I saw it.
A corpse standing vacantly, like all the other Huncheon Gangsi.
This one whose very existence I had failed to notice, my attention stolen by Mo Ryeong-san and Gang Cheonho.
My pupils trembled at the sight so terribly familiar.
A noble figure standing with sword in hand, revealing a pallid complexion devoid of blood and lifeless eyes as though the soul had fled.
Muyong Jungcheon, the Sword Emperor.
Mo Ryeong-san’s voice pierced my eardrums.
“Kekeke, my masterpiece, that one is.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————