The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 357

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Youngest Son of the Jin Family of Luoyang – Chapter 357

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The heat of the martial tournament burned even more intensely.
As Namgung Yeon and Jin Ja-geom clashed, the crowd’s voices tore through the air with thunderous cheers, their exchange of moves unfolding with fierce intensity.
It was a display of such exceptional skill that victory could have gone either way. Yet in the end, the countless plum blossoms that bloomed fell wilting before the Spear of Boundless Heaven, bowing in defeat.
“The Namgung Family—!”
“The Number One Sword Sect has returned!”
That was precisely why the crowd erupted in jubilation.
They had suffered tremendous shock from the Moyong Family’s incident, and the Eight Great Families bore fresh wounds from the vacancy it created. Yet filling that void was this very family.
If that family was the Namgung Family—once renowned as the greatest clan under heaven, commanding the respect of all righteous martial artists—what more need be said?
It was also the reason she received such overwhelming support compared to the other contestants.
As if aware of this, Namgung Yeon displayed her full prowess with the pride of the Namgung Family, shattering her opponent’s blade.
Now only one remained.
If she could defeat him, the Namgung Family’s prestige would surely soar to the heavens.
Now came the match to determine that final opponent.
Turning my gaze to one side, I saw Yeon-un stepping forward with tension etched across his face. Haryeon, following behind, silently handed him a sword, and as Yeon-un accepted it, he steadied his breathing.
“I will return victorious!”
The moment he ascended the tournament platform with his resolve to claim victory firmly set.
His opponent emerged—Myeong-ryun, the disciple of the sect master.
-Waaaaaaaa!
The cheers were different.
The disciple of Gong Hwang Hye-myeong, the one destined to lead the future of Shaolin.
The roar that erupted, as if the crowd itself was pouring out its fervor, shook the tournament grounds with deafening intensity.
With such overwhelming support from the masses alone, his opponent’s spirit could only be crushed.
In that moment, Yeon-un offered a bitter smile as he gazed at Myeong-ryun, then assumed a fist stance and cried out loudly, displaying his own martial spirit.
“Please show me your skill!”
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Yet something felt wrong.
Myeong-ryun, who would normally respond with a gentle smile, merely chanted a Buddhist prayer and bowed his head lightly.
Then, as the sound of the gong rang out, he clenched his fists.
Crash—!
With a tremendous sound, Yeon-un’s body was violently driven backward. The blow was so intense and sudden that his body staggered greatly.
But it was not over.
Before Yeon-un could even attempt anything, another fierce strike came hurtling toward him.
A violent blow that shook the tournament platform itself.
It had been merely two exchanges, yet the outcome was already decided.
Crash crash crash—!
Yeon-un’s body flew absurdly through the air, crashing outside the arena. Rolling through the dirt and coughing harshly, he barely managed to regain his balance and stand, offering a bitter smile.
“I… I’ve lost. Haha, truly… you are remarkable.”
“Amitabha Buddha.”
At those words, Myeong-ryun chanted a Buddhist prayer and bowed his head.
Though it appeared respectful toward his opponent, something about his expression felt oddly uncomfortable. His eyes reflected Yeon-un’s awkward smile, while his furrowed brow showed none of a victor’s joy.
“He seems unsettled.”
I watched the situation unfold with an awkward smile of my own.
Walking the path of a Buddhist monk, he would instinctively sense it.
The ominous nature of Yeon-un’s existence.
That’s why his expression was troubled.
“Or perhaps he felt that his opponent revealed no true skill.”
Of all people, his opponent had to be Myeong-ryun.
One could argue that circumstances didn’t allow him to display his full abilities, yet his defeat came far too easily, which bothered me.
Considering Yeon-un’s martial prowess displayed thus far, even against Myeong-ryun, he should have had the strength to drag out at least ten exchanges.
Yet it took merely two.
I spoke to Haryeon as if apologizing, while quietly observing the figure departing from the arena.
“Save the complicated thoughts for later. Look—he’s coming out.”
It was then that Chaeseoha’s voice reached me.
As if she had been waiting for this very moment, she clenched both fists tightly and squeezed her eyes shut.
Myeong-ryun still standing on the arena.
Approaching him was Namgung Yeon.
The moment the two faced each other, the crowd’s roar spread across the entire city.
-Uwaaaaaaaaa!
Either could win without surprise.
Both would have abundant experience, though Myeong-ryun’s level was slightly higher. Yet Namgung Yeon, who had built her strength in a short time and survived through life-or-death situations.
She would never fall short of Myeong-ryun.
In the past, it would have been Moryeong Hyeok standing there instead of Myeong-ryun.
Recalling past and present, laughter escaped me unbidden.
“Begin!”
The moment Chaeseoha’s tense voice was uttered.
As the gong rang, Namgung Yeon’s sword and Myeong-ryun’s fist extended simultaneously.
Kwaaaang-!
A single exchange.
Namgung Yeon’s brow furrowed from the impact felt in her grip. From that single exchange alone, she could sense the gap in their levels.
Not something that could be called a paper-thin difference.
Yet not so great that victory was impossible.
Her sword, carrying a whirlwind within it, cut forward.
Startled by the sharp momentum, Myeong-ryun twisted his body, and the sword’s path shifted, gently targeting his chest.
But Myeong-ryun had already read it.
He flicked his fingers to create a projectile and fired it, then swept his fist against the blade.
A powerful force transmitted through the blade and into my wrist, disrupting my flow and destabilizing my stance.
Myeong-ryun did not miss this opening.
He clenched his fist.
Hundred Step Divine Fist.
The signature technique of Gong Hwang Hye-myeong and the martial art that symbolized the Shaolin.
Namgung Yeon, recognizing this, gripped his sword firmly once more and utilized the flow.
As if watching Jin Cheon-u himself.
He received the force of the divine fist gently with the flat of his blade, deflecting it precariously while driving deeper inward.
“This!”
It was Hye-myeong who was caught off guard by this unexpected turn.
Who would have thought to deflect the Shaolin’s Hundred Step Divine Fist?
It could have even resulted in the sword shattering.
Such was the power of that fist.
That he executed it without hesitation revealed Namgung Yeon’s resolve—he was prepared to stake everything on this match.
Myeong-ryun let out a hollow laugh.
“You would go this far?”
“The fate of the Namgung Family and the honor of the Jin Family rest upon this.”
“Amitabha Buddha—then this humble disciple must also give his all, for my master’s name and the prestige of Shaolin are at stake.”
A deep resonance erupted.
Myeong-ryun drew upon his power far more intensely.
The force concentrated in both fists far exceeded Namgung Yeon’s expectations.
“You intended this from the beginning, did you not?”
Yet Namgung Yeon, wearing a faint smile, also drew upon greater power to meet him, and it spread outward as if commanding the surrounding space itself.
In that instant, Myeong-ryun’s eyes narrowed.
The Namgung Family’s ultimate technique, glimpsed even during the preliminaries.
Boundless Heaven Sword Method.
One could sense the flow of the vast sky itself.
He attempted to shatter it with his fists, but striking the heavens with one’s fists yields nothing but empty air.
Soon, Namgung Yeon’s sword swept forth.
“…!”
Each time the blade traced through the void, a faint luminescence remained as if cracks formed in the blue sky itself, and with each collision, one could sense Namgung Yeon’s sword heart—clear as the heavens above.
Startled by this display, Hye-myeong laughed helplessly.
“Amitabha Buddha—so this is the Number One Sword Sect’s blade! Truly magnificent.”
“I understand that Shaolin is no less formidable.”
“Then allow me to demonstrate.”
Before Myeong-ryun could finish speaking, Namgung Yeon’s sword moved first.
A violent surge erupted.
Releasing fierce power, he pressed Myeong-ryun hard.
The tingling sensation in my hands made me certain the strike landed properly, yet strangely, Myeong-ryun rushed forward unscathed.
As if her technique had proven ineffective.
“Ugh!?”
Myeong-ryun extended his hand to deflect the blade, closing the distance further, and simultaneously unleashed a torrent of force from his palm.
In that instant, Namgung Yeon beheld the hand of Buddha.
Boom—!
Namgung Yeon swallowed a groan as he felt a force as overwhelming as Mount Tai, his body hurled backward.
As if attempting to dissipate even a fraction of that power.
Yet he could not deceive Myeong-ryun’s eyes.
His fingers moved in intricate patterns.
A brilliant golden finger technique shot forth in a straight line.
“That… that just now!”
“The Sect Leader’s Great Sun Tathagata Divine Art!?”
The supreme martial technique of enlightenment that Hye-myeong had perfected.
The moment it unfolded from Myeong-ryun’s hands, the crowd gasped in astonishment.
The palm technique was the Tathagata Divine Palm.
What shot forth in golden radiance was the Tathagata Golden Light Finger.
The mightiest martial art of Shaolin created by Hye-myeong himself.
That it manifested from Myeong-ryun’s hands meant his level of enlightenment transcended imagination.
Crash—!
“Argh!”
Namgung Yeon’s body was sent flying helplessly by the finger strike. He seemed destined to fall beyond the arena, but regaining his senses, he hastily drove his sword into the ground.
In that moment, the blade bent under the force, then sprang back.
“Ha—!”
Watching Namgung Yeon hurtle forward at arrow-like speed, Myeong-ryun laughed in disbelief.
He had thought the battle finished, yet it clearly was not.
Whoosh—!
This was the moment.
Namgung Yeon’s sword gathered fierce momentum.
Hye-myeong’s eyes widened as he gazed upon the raised blade.
The sword’s point aimed at the heavens.
In that instant, the sky held its breath.
Countless currents of energy tangled together, condensing into a single beam of light—
And the world bowed beneath the sword.
Witnessing this, both Hye-myeong and Mu-jin rose abruptly from their seats.
“That is!?”
“Surely… not!”
As if they beheld something utterly beyond belief.
Soon, a hushed utterance escaped Hye-myeong’s lips.
“The Emperor’s Sword Form…”
“To witness it in this lifetime. Infinite Buddha, infinite Buddha…”
As all fell silent in astonishment, unable to close their mouths.
Myeong-ryun’s hands blocked the sword aura.
*Screech—!*
Yet the force did not dissipate easily, and despite the protective energy wrapped around them, deep lacerations appeared on both hands that had intercepted it, blood streaming freely.
A moment of standoff.
Myeong-ryun examined both hands and offered another hollow laugh, his gaze settling on Namgung Yeon.
“Amitabha—have we both revealed all our hidden techniques?”
“I would hope so.”
Namgung Yeon answered ambiguously, a smile playing across his lips.
It was impossible to discern whether he meant yes or no.
But Myeong-ryun found himself in the same predicament.
Thus, both harbored the identical thought.
Swift decisive victory.
End this confrontation as quickly as possible.
To achieve that, the first strike was paramount.
Both figures blurred into motion instantaneously.
There was no distinguishing who moved first.
Myeong-ryun’s form soared like a lone hawk, bearing striking resemblance to the sect leader’s lightness technique, while Namgung Yeon moved with the grace of an emperor traversing the heavens.
“Heavenly Emperor’s Step!”
The moment Hye-myeong spoke the name.
The two blurred figures materialized instantly, unleashing a devastating strike toward one another.
*Boom—!*
Buddha and Emperor collided.
The violent force shattered the arena, sending debris scattering in all directions like arrows of destruction.
Had the Fierce Tiger sect’s warriors not swiftly positioned themselves to shield the spectators, countless injuries both great and small would have befallen the crowd.
Then it came.
The thick dust gradually dispersed, revealing the arena.
In that instant.
Everyone gasped in shock.
Neither combatant remained standing.
Namgung Yeon knelt, collapsed on his haunches, breathing heavily, while Myeong-ryun lay on his side clutching his ribs, staring only at the sky.
At first glance, it appeared Namgung Yeon’s victory, yet considering both could not move a single finger, no hand could be raised for either.
All eyes naturally turned toward Hye-myeong.
He was the only one capable of judging this situation.
Everyone waited for his words to break the silence.
A bitter smile crossed Hye-myeong’s lips as his deep voice emerged.
“Shaolin’s defeat. Amitabha—.”
In that moment, silence consumed the world.
Then, thunderous cheers erupted.
*—Uwaaaaaaaaa!*

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