Chapter 87
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: Flight
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A veteran soldier, kicked flying in a fit of anger, soared helplessly through the air, unable to even draw breath.
"Ah, was that a bit too much?"
Of course, even in anger, she'd controlled her strength to the minimum, so his abdomen wouldn't burst like a water balloon...
The problem was the location.
Atop a skyscraper dozens of stories high—a height even a peak expert would hesitate to fall from barehanded.
With proper lightness skill and using surrounding structures to slow descent, survival was possible, but after such a clean kick leaving him disoriented, that seemed doubtful.
As So-hyang pondered whether to chase and catch him, the falling soldier fortunately regained his wits and righted himself mid-air.
But what followed was truly astonishing.
He spun once in the air, then a device at his waist exploded with a bang, firing a steel wire—
"Hm...?"
—the hook at its end embedding into the wall, yanking his body back swiftly.
"—All personnel! Take flight!"
Suddenly, the soldiers around So-hyang leaped from the building one after another, firing wires and soaring through the air.
"What in the world...?"
She'd marveled before at this world's mismatched technological progress against its society, but this was beyond that.
So-hyang burst into incredulous laughter.
The Flight Mechanism.
A fictional invention from a student's graduation thesis at the Academy years ago.
Like most theses, it wasn't seriously meant to change the world.
Just a few pages to prove expertise and earn a degree, with this as a playful appendix.
Naturally so.
Manufacturing was an issue to begin with, and even if made, no ordinary human body could withstand such extreme, three-dimensional maneuvers.
But that was for mortals.
Not for martial artists who'd reached a certain realm.
No snapped spines from massive acceleration, no shattered ankles on landing.
Not even peak experts with full great heavenly circuit control—first-rate ones with small heavenly circuit sufficed.
The fatal flaw irrelevant, what advantages remained?
Simple: overwhelming mobility.
This unbelievable tech enabled mid-air stepping even for first-rates below ground realm, let alone peaks.
Military discussions concluded it outperformed peak extreme lightness skill in bustling urban areas crammed with skyscrapers and pedestrians.
Even with complex controls, a few days' training mastered it.
Martial artists' bodily senses far surpassed mortals'.
Easy to master (for martial artists), safe (for martial artists).
No wonder someone suggested testing this prototype from a young student's paper.
Small squad trials over months yielded beyond-expected results.
First, response times to incidents shortened dramatically.
Not just speed—ignoring obstacles like buildings and crowds effectively halved or tripled travel time.
Second, tracking fleeing martial artists became far easier.
Criminals wasting trained lightness on smashing buildings and rooftop chases had always been the Imperial Guard's headache.
Three-dimensional aerial maneuvers made pursuit and capture trivial.
Proven highly effective for capital security.
And beyond practicality, the real reason:
It was cool.
Flying free from the ground—every man's, humanity's ancient dream, right?
Only transcendent experts dreamed of true mid-air treading; lowlies twisted mid-air for a push or two at best.
Yet first-rates could fly...
Any man resisting that wasn't a man.
Seeing demo squads streak Beijing's night sky, drooling pleas to equip us too erupted.
In under a year, the Flight Mechanism became standard Imperial Guard gear for the capital's defense.
Soldiers zipping building forests on dual wires solidified as the Guard's symbol and Beijing's spectacle.
The air filled with compressed gas blasts and whirring, snapping wires.
Soldiers darted between buildings like flying insects, cluttering vision.
Reinforcements arrived in that brief moment, swelling numbers to dozens swarming So-hyang.
"...Wow, what a sight."
So-hyang exclaimed unwittingly.
Advanced tech and precise machinery held unique allure, stirring every man's romance.
Long into this new life, her faded masculinity stirred anew.
Her pearly eyes sparkled as she scanned excitedly.
Guards' sharp gazes pierced the traitor daring kidnap imperial blood, even touching him.
Opposing intents clashed.
"—Target's realm at minimum peak extreme! Engage assuming transcendent expert!"
So-hyang had finger-caught a peak's javelin, dismantled a joint assault.
No visible aura or pressure didn't mean low realm.
Likely they'd missed it due to her realm-reversal presence-concealment.
"Hoo..."
Yet they held—no fear even against transcendent?
Spears infused with inner power launched at her amused smile.
"Eh, this again?"
Disappointment flickered; she finger-snagged the tip as before.
Power-infused throw? Still just a novice toss.
Block, dodge, catch—endless counters; normal throws couldn't meaningfully harm higher realms.
If normal, that is.
"Oh?"
A crack sound; the held blade fissured, yellow lightning sparking.
So-hyang hurled it away instantly; it shattered, unleashing brilliant thunder.
"Such a monster...!"
From catch to explosion: a mere instant. Even martial senses barely registered.
Spotting the anomaly and discarding in that blink—insane judgment speed.
"Whoa, using such dangerous tech?"
Area lightning blast.
Potent enough to shred average protective qi; even transcendent experts risked real damage.
Not constantly wrapping in gang qi everywhere? Unignorable point-blank blasts.
Broad radius hard to evade; defenses useless without full-body gang qi.
And thunder qi—tricky property.
"So crude."
Imperial Guards vs. transcendent peers: simple.
Widen distance, project firepower remotely.
Foe closes? Widen again.
Attack.
Widen.
Attack.
Infinite repeat.
More systematic post-Flight Mechanism; simple, effective doctrine.
"Ahaha, takes me back."
Lightning spears rained from all sides. So-hyang's lips curved at the epicenter.
Meant to end soldiers quick and mingle upstairs, but this seemed fun too.
Thunder explosions blanketed the area, forming an electric field of brutal bombardment.
So-hyang's counters unchanged from past life.
Sword pressure rent air for instant vacuums, offsetting blasts with backlash.
Hard to breach vacuum, be it gunpowder expansion or electric discharge.
Dodge avoidables; vacuum-sweep area hits.
Not her first rodeo with fiercer barrages—easy.
But she noticed something odd.
Wasn't she not alone?
"—Hey, what if His Highness gets caught in the blasts?"
No hostage theatrics intended, but her friend was imperial scion, prime throne heir.
They hurled without care—odd.
Planning to kill both?
"The Empire negotiates not with brigands!"
Imperial law: unyielding hardline.
Even His Majesty's rightful dragon blood? No bending to kidnappers.
If badly hurt or killed?
"—Revive him again!"
"Huh?"
They really meant to kill.
Capital heart—top doctors, outshining martial gods or Snow Mountain demon healers, resided here.
Any trauma, fatal or not, healed by them. Death too.
If Highness perished in crossfire, recover body, bind soul, resurrect.
"We say again! No negotiations!"
No groveling at brigand's whim over imperial scion's life.
Beyond expectations, So-hyang was stunned, tongue-tied.
"...Wow, is this for real?"
Rather than hostage hindrance, fair game: kill criminal and hostage, revive hostage only. Insane hardline.
Doubting, she glanced at shouldered Zhu Yeonhwa.
Golden eyes met hers, resigned—abandoned gentle rescue long ago.
Her extreme perception read intent from pupil dilation, facial twitches.
'Fun?'
"Honestly, a bit— No, I thought they'd target just me. Didn't expect killing His Highness too."
'...Knock me out. Gonna puke.'
"Hm, now? They'd brand me arch-traitor and go all-out."
'Traitor now anyway. Since when do you care? You'd love it.'
"True. Sleep then."
Regret for impulsive act, but friend request granted gladly.
Slim finger pressed sleep acupoint; Zhu Yeonhwa blacked out like snuffed candle.
"...!! Your Highneeeeesssss!!! Just wait!!! We'll rescue you soon!!!"
Witnessing, nearby soldiers shrieked His Highness's name.
Yet 'rescue' shouts didn't halt spear throws; So-hyang wondered if their language differed from hers.
"Such an aggressive rescue."
Rescue to the afterlife?
Fun for her, though.