Chapter 325
Chapter 325
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 88
>Chapter Title: To the Sichuan Tang Clan (1)
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A grand hall shrouded in darkness.
Three shadowy figures wearing veils that exuded an extraordinary aura stepped inside.
The three figures naturally advanced forward and knelt on one knee toward the dais, where even shadows were barely visible, performing their rites.
As they knelt, a voice emanated from the dais.
"Has only the Empire Breaker and Ghost Sword not arrived?"
At that question, the slender, veiled figure on the far right spoke up.
"I understand the Empire Breaker is carrying out a critical mission assigned by the Ancestor Mok. As for the Ghost Sword, his whereabouts have been unknown since receiving that order. Could it be that Your Excellency..."
-Shk!
Before the words could finish, the person right beside him extended a hand to silence the speaker.
The slender veiled figure couldn't hide his bewilderment.
Then, the one in the center spoke.
"Spring and Autumn. Mind your own business regarding the Ghost Sword."
The slender figure replied with evident displeasure at the command-like tone.
"...The Ghost Sword has been missing for over half a year. I merely wished to inquire with Your Excellency since one of our own has vanished. Is that so objectionable to you, Crimson Flame?"
"Have you forgotten that Ancestor Mok forbade anyone from interfering in matters concerning the Ghost Sword and that one?"
"But this situation is different. The Ghost Sword has been gone for over half a year. The last place he was sighted was the Sichuan Tang Clan..."
"Enough."
At that moment, a dignified voice resounded from the dais.
The two who had been glaring at each other while growling hastily lowered their heads.
As they fell silent, the voice from the dais continued.
"Cut to the chase. Yi Gwang is dead."
"Yes?"
"How could Yi Gwang?"
Though none of them raised their heads, all three could not conceal their shock.
Among them, Crimson Flame in the center spoke in confusion.
"Didn't Ancestor Mok bestow upon Yi Gwang an artifact made from the scales of the蛟 Demon King? With that, even most supreme masters..."
"I sensed him the moment Yi Gwang died."
"!!!!"
At those words, all three raised their heads simultaneously.
Among them, the veiled figure on the far left, who had remained taciturn, finally spoke.
"...That can't be."
"What can't be?"
"It was said that he had completely lost his power. Even if he clung to life through some stroke of heaven's fortune, he should only be barely maintaining his form. How could he..."
"Are you saying this seat sensed wrongly?"
"..."
The veiled figure promptly shut his mouth.
To deny it would be impossible, for he had rooted himself here, scarcely moving, devoting himself solely to sensing that one's aura.
When all believed in his complete annihilation, only Ancestor Mok had denied it.
If even Ancestor Mok had sensed it, then it was certain.
'So that's why he summoned us all.'
If that one had truly revived, it was indeed time for the organization's full forces to mobilize.
* * *
Two veiled figures emerged first from the darkness-filled grand hall.
-Pak!
One of them, the slender one, ripped off his veil as if it suffocated him.
Revealed was a beautiful woman with a mystical aura, her hair a mix of white and black strands.
The woman, now unveiled, glared at the much bulkier veiled man with an irritated expression and said.
"There is definitely something at the Sichuan Tang Clan. Then why forbid touching that place? Are you saying you're afraid of mere poison users?"
At the woman's question, the veiled man—no, Crimson Flame—muttered wearily.
"You're quite something."
"It's not 'quite.' The Ghost Sword vanished after going there last, and even Ancestor Mok knows that old Sacred Flame Commandery Lord has some connection to the Sichuan Tang Clan. Yet why forbid touching it without even explaining the reason..."
"Hey. Spring and Autumn."
"What?"
"You've been locked away so long you wouldn't know, but there's a reason for everything forbidden."
"So what is that reason?"
At her irritated attitude, the veiled man shook his head and whispered.
"There is a hidden power guarding the Tang Clan."
"A hidden power? What is it?"
"I don't know the details. Only that it's been passed down for quite some time and is extremely dangerous."
"Ha? Even so, it's just humans..."
"Enough. Even the蛟 Demon King, who regained his power, fell to mere humans. Well, not entirely mere—they were monstrous beings even the Six Demons couldn't easily approach."
At his words, Spring and Autumn furrowed her brow.
The Six Demons were kings among spirit beasts, nearly divine.
They were transcendent existences beyond even their control.
If humans they couldn't approach existed...
"...You're talking about that one who crossed the boundary wall, aren't you?"
"Yes. If he were there, Ancestor Mok couldn't have painted the picture he desired on the day of the great calamity."
"You think there could be another such exceptional case?"
"Who knows. That's why Ancestor Mok seeks to confirm it. If you wish to fulfill his will, obey without further words."
"...Hmph."
Spring and Autumn snorted softly.
She then vanished without hiding her displeasure.
Sensing the lingering intent of her departure, Crimson Flame's eyes filled with concern.
She was emotionally volatile and hard to control, even among the organization's top executives, if not quite as much as the Ghost Sword.
He worried she might ignore his warning and act on her own.
"Hoo."
Letting out a long sigh, he soon set off.
To carry out Ancestor Mok's new command.
* * *
Heaven-Earth Society's inner residence, main building, the sealed chamber of the Nine Palaces.
-Kkiiiiiik!
The long-sealed chamber door slowly creaked open, revealing someone.
His clothes were in tatters, but his sturdy, muscular frame marked him as a ruggedly handsome man.
Notably, he wore a leather patch over his right eye. The moment he emerged, someone called out brightly, as if waiting.
"Eldest Young Master!"
The caller was a diminutive man in his early thirties.
Seeing the man with a voice like an unpubescent boy, the handsome man spoke.
"Mo Yak."
The handsome man's identity was none other than Na Yul-lyang, the chief disciple of the Heaven-Earth Society Leader.
Mo Yak, remembering him from before he entered seclusion gravely injured, said with deep emotion.
"Truly remarkable, Young Master. More than recovered..."
His aura seemed far more refined than before.
He hadn't been in seclusion long—had he attained profound enlightenment?
Curious, Mo Yak was about to ask when,
-Shk!
Na Yul-lyang glanced to his side and spoke first.
"Who is that one?"
The face was veiled, making identity unclear.
But what grated more was,
"You're no ordinary fellow."
-Sruk!
Na Yul-lyang's form blurred and vanished, reappearing behind the mysterious veiled figure.
Na Yul-lyang reached toward the right side of his head.
In that instant, the veiled figure tilted his head aside, lightly dodging, then,
-Tak!
Grabbed Na Yul-lyang's wrist.
Na Yul-lyang's right eyebrow arched.
Though not at full power, he had used the supreme lightness skill Bright Water Moon Step, moving at blinding speed undetectable by presence alone.
Yet this one had pinpointed his position and even countered the strike.
'Well, well?'
-Parrr!
The hand gripping Na Yul-lyang's wrist trembled violently.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the floor where they stood.
-Kwaduduk!
Realizing they had entered an internal energy clash, Mo Yak urgently shouted.
"Young Master! Stop! He came to assist you."
"What?"
At those words, Na Yul-lyang promptly lowered his surging energy.
The veiled figure matched him, withdrawing his own.
With energies receded, the veiled figure clasped hands in salute toward Na Yul-lyang.
"Impressive. I've heard of your fame, Young Master, but the power you've honed in seclusion now rivals the Eight Stars, the murim's supreme masters, without falling short."
At his courteous demeanor, Na Yul-lyang said impassively.
"Who are you?"
"A messenger from the Elder Hall."
"Elder Hall?"
Na Yul-lyang couldn't hide his surprise.
The Elder Hall housed the Heaven-Earth Society's retired executives, a hidden strength.
He hadn't expected any supreme master of this caliber among those old folks.
Staring intently at the man claiming to be from the Elder Hall, Na Yul-lyang spoke.
"Then remove the veil."
At his command, the veiled man bowed his head and said.
"Forgive me, but this subordinate's face is so grotesquely scarred from burns that I am ashamed to show it."
"No matter. Show it."
"If you insist."
The scarred man cautiously lifted his veil upward.
Revealed was a face utterly ravaged by burn scars.
Na Yul-lyang's single eye narrowed at the sight.
The hideous burn scars didn't faze him particularly, but whether from the burns or not, both eyes were missing.
'Blind in both eyes, yet he seized my move by presence alone?'
A glint entered Na Yul-lyang's pupil.
Fresh from profound seclusion enlightenment, he had believed no one save his master—the Heaven-Earth Society Leader, one of the Six Heavens, grandmaster realm—could match him.
Yet this man gave him the uncanny feeling he couldn't win easily, igniting a fierce competitive spirit to test him.
"You..."
-Shk!
Before Na Yul-lyang could speak, the scarred man extended his hand.
From a short distance, a wooden box floated up via void grasp, landing in his hands.
Na Yul-lyang eyed it curiously and asked.
"What is it?"
The wooden box was quite small.
Yet its surface was densely inscribed with red script.
It resembled incantations from sorcery or shamanism.
The scarred-faced man bared yellowed teeth and said.
"I heard you injured your eye."
Na Yul-lyang's left eye sharpened fiercely at those words.
Only three knew of his eye injury, and none would divulge it.
The one most likely had his throat slit by Na Yul-lyang himself.
How did someone from the Elder Hall know of his eye affliction?
Yet,
"Young Master, ease your guard. With the society to rally in earnest, you have much to do—surely you won't waste energy on this trifle?"
"Whether I waste energy is not for the likes of you to decide. Even if from the Elder Hall, I won't tolerate anyone lording over me."
-Dalk!
At his words, the scarred man silently opened the box's lid.
-Swaaaaaa!
-Hic!
Mo Yak, peeking curiously from behind, involuntarily staggered back from the chilling something inside.
As he opened his mouth, his breath fogged in the cold air.
Frost had blanketed the surroundings.
'What in the world?'
While bewildered, Na Yul-lyang approached the open wooden box held by the scarred man.
Upon opening, frigid yin energy and an eerie, goosebump-inducing aura emanated.
The source of that eerie aura was none other than,
'An eye?'
It was an eyeball.
Not yellow, but golden-hued, with a pinpoint pupil. The moment he saw it, the ferocity of a savage beast washed over him.
No one would mistake this for a human eye.
Unable to tear away his single eye from it, the scarred man smirked and said to Great Young Master Na Yul-lyang.
"This will become your new eye."
* * *
Near a treacherous cliff not far from Zaoyang in northern Hubei Province.
Countless swordsmen lay fallen, bleeding, with the banner of a renowned murim clan snapped and planted there.
[Nangong]
Nangong.
It was the Nangong Clan's banner.
Amid them stood a middle-aged man leaning on a cracked sword like a staff, gazing in disbelief at someone.
'What in the world is that monster?'
He had dismantled the supreme techniques of the Emperor Sword Form at its pinnacle with mere simple patterns.
No, not mere simple patterns.
They were executed via trajectories impossible for ordinary muscles and joints.
'How is that even possible?'
He couldn't comprehend.
Shocked, he finally couldn't hold out and vomited blood.
"Keurk."
-Thud!
Having spewed a mouthful of blood, the middle-aged man dropped to one knee.
A shadow loomed over him as someone approached with hands behind back, face arrogant.
Feeling humiliated, the middle-aged man ground his teeth.
He, one of the Eight Stars—self-proclaimed strongest in the world barring the Six Heavens—defeated by this nameless youth?
His identity: Cangtian Wujian, Nangong Jin of the Eight Stars title.
"Cough... cough..."
Approaching the blood-vomiting man with hands behind back, he spoke.
"The title of Emperor is not to be frivolously attached to the sword."
"Haa... haa..."
"Only the saber can be called Emperor—no, Divine."
"Arro... gance... beyond... measure... utterly... insolent."
"Arrogance or hubris, all stems from strength alone. Swordsmen of the Nangong Clan."
"Cough... cough."
Frustrated but defeated, he had no retort.
To the humiliated man, the hands-behind-back youth asked.
"More importantly, you've truly never heard of it?"
Struggling to lift his head, Nangong Jin replied.
"Haa... haa... No such alias, no, not even a name I've heard."
"You're certain?"
"I said no. Cough... cough... Fifty years roaming the murim, yet Heavenly Demon..."
-Skik!
Before the words ended.
Blood spurted from his neck as Nangong Jin's throat was slit, his head tumbling forward and rolling.
-Tak!
Lightly stepping on the head, the man muttered.
"Not yet, then."
-Kwajik!
[End of Chapter 88: To the Sichuan Tang Clan (1)]