Chapter 350
Chapter 350
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 350
Chapter Title: The Mountains Tremble
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At once, the Iryeong Mountains shook violently.
Birds flew off into the distance with vigorous wingbeats, while the wild beasts nearby fled in a frenzy of frightened cries.
It was a scene straight out of a natural disaster about to unfold.
'What an impressive aura.'
Cheonhwi offered a brief impression as he took in the sight before him.
The sky over the Iryeong Mountains had grown dark and heavy.
It began the moment an intense presence, sharp enough to sting the skin, drew near the mountains.
'That must be the Evil-Black Alliance Leader.'
He pondered this while sensing the particularly overwhelming aura among the seven presences.
"......They aren't even trying to hide it."
Yong Ju-gae spat the words out like they tasted bitter.
He frowned, clearly displeased as he stared toward the source of the presence.
Cheonmu-gong, the Chungnam Sword Saint, and Yongcheon Guest gave small nods of agreement.
It violated the truce agreement.
This was meant to be a peaceful gathering for resolution, and flaunting their power like this rubbed them the wrong way.
"Tsk tsk. It's not like wild beasts squabbling over territory. Why puff out their aura like this?"
As Yong Ju-gae grumbled on with a dissatisfied scowl,
"Looks fine to me."
A rebuttal came from Cheonhwi. Amid the sharp glares around him, a smile tugged at his lips.
It was a smile laced with intrigue and fighting spirit.
"It's martial artist-like, don't you think?"
Cheonhwi continued, attuning himself to the immeasurable aura steadily closing in.
"They wouldn't pull that off without real confidence in their skills."
"......Martial artist-like?"
The three, led by Yong Ju-gae, stared blankly as if clubbed over the head by the unexpected remark.
Thud.
A heavy footfall echoed.
With the birds and beasts gone, silence reigned, making the footsteps resound all the louder.
One step. One step.
The footsteps drew steadily nearer.
Swish—
Finally, seven figures emerged from the ridge's end.
'Oh ho.'
Cheonhwi's lips twisted wider.
Aside from one man in scholar's robes, the other six—men and women in varied attire—radiated extraordinary auras.
And Cheonhwi's gaze locked solely on the leader at the fore.
A man clad in a purple robe embroidered with a golden dragon.
The presumed Evil-Black Alliance Leader.
Slur—
Cheonhwi's eyelids drooped half-shut.
His narrowed eyes fixed on the Alliance Leader alone, swiftly scanning him from head to toe.
The qi waves emanating from him dwarfed those of the six companions—utterly incomparable.
A difference in very class.
From the Alliance Leader's unflinching stride flowed an aura stretching long like a dragon's tail.
Intense enough to devour even the divine sunlight beaming on his back.
'Quite something.'
After a simple musing, Cheonhwi appraised him with keener eyes.
Even the fleeting glimpses of flesh through the swaying robe bespoke extraordinariness.
Muscles woven tight like iron sinews.
Within serene eyes, fathomless depths of azure gleam.
His mind and body neared flawless perfection—his realm beyond mortal grasp.
The Alliance Leader, gazing at In-sang-gyok and the Murim Alliance Leader, abruptly turned to meet Cheonhwi's stare.
Whoosh!
A transcendent aura crashed upon them.
No mere human force—like a tsunami's onslaught, a storm of tangible pressure.
It stung the skin raw.
'Well now. Quite the tingle.'
Cheonhwi circulated his Plum Blossom Divine Art.
Crimson light flickered in his jet-black pupils.
Fwoosh!
In an instant, the encroaching aura burst into flames and scattered into the void.
An inner energy manipulation bordering on the mystical.
"......"
The already somber Alliance Leader's eyes sank into endless depths.
His lake-calm pupils now brimmed with chill, as if swept by a polar gale.
That was when it happened.
"Plum blossom scent......!"
An exclamation rang out.
From behind the Alliance Leader.
"It's you!"
An elder with wolf-mane white hair cascading long and a beard left wild as fresh rice glared murderously at Cheonhwi.
Poised to lunge at any second.
"Ghost Heaven Emissary......!"
At the elder's sharp reaction, the four Murim Alliance escorts excluding Cheonhwi scowled and assumed combat stances.
"Forgot the agreement?"
A deep voice boomed across the area.
Uttered without infused energy, yet it rang crystal-clear, as if murmured at one's ear.
The voice's owner.
The Alliance Leader issued a warning toward the Ghost Heaven Emissary.
"......My apologies."
The Emissary gnashed his lower lip and fell back.
Yong Ju-gae's eyes widened faintly at the display.
No matter the Alliance Leader's stature, the Ghost Heaven Emissary was one of the Immortality Heavenly Cult's Four Emissaries.
Even absent their Cult Leader, for him to yield so readily.
'As the rumors say, the Evil-Black Alliance and Five Emperors Gate bend to the Alliance Leader's will......'
Witnessing it firsthand struck differently than hearsay.
Then, the Murim Alliance Leader—who had sat quietly observing it all—spoke up.
"Long time no see, Alliance Leader."
He greeted with a smile, as if welcoming a dear old friend.
"Indeed."
Yet the Alliance Leader responded with cool detachment.
Undaunted by the reply, the Murim Alliance Leader kept his smile and beckoned.
"Come, have a seat."
The Alliance Leader eyed the table, chairs, and Murim Leader before stepping forward.
The Demon Brain Black Dragon followed in his wake.
Thud, thud.
The pair advanced without hesitation.
Passing Yong Ju-gae, Cheonmu-gong, the Chungnam Sword Saint, and Yongcheon Guest—and finally moving past Cheonhwi.
Their gazes crossed.
A fleeting instant.
Shorter than a blink.
Yet to both Cheonhwi and the Alliance Leader, it stretched long.
In their own slowed time, neither could look away.
Mutual recognition dawned.
Soon, the Alliance Leader passed Cheonhwi by, and the sluggish flow snapped back to normal.
'Been ages since I caught this scent.'
As he brushed past, Cheonhwi detected an achingly familiar fragrance.
Unfamiliar at first whiff—a strange demonic qi aroma.
Yet the core essence betrayed no disguise.
From this novel demonic qi bloomed a scent all too known.
Infinitely profound, thick with demon...
The aroma of the Ghost Soul Demon Scripture.
'So this is the Cheonbong Hang Clan's Ghost Heaven Demon Scripture.'
Cheonhwi's brows arched.
Utterly divergent from the version he'd seen on the Black Night Chariot before.
Worlds apart.
'Hm. Hoped seeing him would clear some doubts, but now I'm more curious.'
Cheonhwi eyed the Alliance Leader's back.
The longer he watched, the more fascination grew.
How had the Cheonbong Hang Clan—wiped out by his own hand—preserved its lineage?
And how had he mastered the Ghost Heaven Demon Scripture bereft of demonic qi?
'Maybe arrange a private meeting later?'
As Cheonhwi mulled ways to arrange it,
Rustle.
The Alliance Leader reached the table and flung his robe wide as he took his seat.
Silence blanketed the area in a heartbeat.
Murim Alliance escorts and Evil-Black Alliance escorts alike.
All eyes fixed on the table.
Moments later, a voice shattered the quiet.
From the figure behind the Alliance Leader.
The Demon Brain Black Dragon spoke.
"Then, we shall commence the truce negotiations."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Naturally, the negotiations proceeded with utmost seriousness.
Complex matters flew back and forth—it promised to drag on.
As a truce from past enmity, they probed every detail to ensure no mishaps.
But chiefly, the verbal sparring raged between Demon Brain Black Dragon and Je-gal Gong.
Strategists without peer, their clash of wits showed no sign of abating.
"Yawn. This'll take forever."
Cheonhwi yawned, boredom plain, prompting Yong Ju-gae to furrow his brow in reply.
"Likely three shichen at minimum."
Yong Ju-gae passed on Je-gal Gong's estimate, yet his eyes never left the five before them.
He wasn't alone.
Yongcheon Guest stood arms crossed, the Chungnam Sword Saint's hand unconsciously on his sword hilt, Cheonmu-gong's senses pushed to the limit.
All held tension taut, stances primed for instant action.
The foe was the unorthodox union: the Evil-Black Alliance.
Who knew when they'd strike? Preparation for the worst was key.
"Hmm."
Unlike them—not a trace of tension—Cheonhwi lounged on a boulder, chin propped, leisurely surveying the five.
One face rang familiar.
Escape Soul Lord Baekun.
Ignoring the talks entirely, he guzzled straight from the jar.
"Gulp, gulp, hm?"
Sensing Cheonhwi's gaze mid-chug, Baekun pulled the jar from his lips and rolled his eyes aside.
Their eyes met. Baekun grinned and waggled the jar side to side.
At his gesture, the three Evil-Black escorts—save the ever-glaring Ghost Heaven Emissary—gaped in shock.
Even they, who'd known Baekun for decades, found this startling.
'Baekun initiating a greeting?'
'Unbelievable.'
'......The Plum Blossom Divine Hero.'
Yet their astonishment didn't end there.
Cheonhwi abruptly strode forward.
"Where to?"
"Young hero!"
"What are you—!"
"......!"
The trio led by the startled Yong Ju-gae reached out in alarm.
Tap.
Cheonhwi halted.
Precisely midway between the Murim Alliance and Evil-Black Alliance positions.
"This brat's gonna stop my heart......"
As the onlookers exhaled in relief,
Thud.
Cheonhwi dropped straight to the dirt.
"......What the?"
"What's his game?"
As all puzzled over the bizarre move,
Cheonhwi crooked his index finger.
"......That punk!"
"Brash whelp."
"So the Plum Blossom Divine Hero's a lunatic after all."
Undeniable provocation. The Ghost Heaven Emissary's eyes bulged red-veined, while Baekun and the others huffed in disbelief.
The Murim side flustered no less.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Young man, what in the—"
Even Yong Ju-gae and the Chungnam Sword Saint sputtering to rein him in, Cheonmu-gong and Yongcheon Guest gawked in dismay.
Cheonhwi paid them no mind, opening casually instead.
"Hey. Still tons of time, bored out of my skull. Anyone up for a sword spar?"
"......"
Silence descended.
No one could process Cheonhwi's words.
A sword spar here? At the Evil-Black Alliance and Murim Alliance truce summit?
Some even pawed at their ears, convinced they'd misheard.
Then.
"Puhahat!"
Baekun roared with laughter.
"What a riot you are."
With that, he kicked off the ground.
His footwork technique carried him before Cheonhwi in a flash. Yong Ju-gae and the Chungnam Sword Saint, aghast, unleashed theirs too.
Circulating energy all the while.
But.
"Me first, then the rest?"
Cheonhwi glanced up at the arrivals, lips quirking.
"Hah, think I came here to spar? In this situation, what the hell—"
As Yong Ju-gae sputtered in outrage,
Thud.
Baekun plopped to the ground and asked,
"Sparring right here on bare dirt?"
"Plenty good enough."
Cheonhwi shot back, expression saying obvious.
"For our caliber."
"Hahaha! Fair point."
Baekun slapped his knee, grinning wide—visibly thrilled.
In tandem, a subtle aura bloomed from him whole. His laughter cut off.
Fighting spirit ignited instead.
As Yong Ju-gae and the Chungnam Sword Saint tensed warily,
"Who takes first bout?"
Baekun queried.
Deadly earnest.
His tone flipped the Evil-Black escorts' assumptions of tomfoolery—faces ashen in panic.
"First bout......"
Cheonhwi, ignoring the fuss, stroked his chin and murmured low,
"Your call."
Baekun's gaze turned icy at Cheonhwi's words. He replied without pause.
"Then I'll start."