Chapter 10: Entering the Fortress (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 10: Entering the Fortress (2)
"Yes. I'm quite sensitive to the wind."
The man smiled. He wore a blue bandana, and his eyes were an even deeper shade of azure.
"Even a ten-year-old child's Three Talents Sword has its own sword wind. I can tell how they swing their blade and what they're feeling. Here in the Demonlight Wing, there's a fellow named Baek Mi-ryeo whose sword positively overflows with talent. You should definitely get some pointers from her. She's incredibly intuitive."
"I'll do that."
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't ask any further questions.
As he circulated his true qi in place, the hem of his robe began to flutter. A strange light gleamed in the eyes of the Demonlight Wing warriors watching from the sidelines as the efficacy of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art surged through his entire body.
"I'm Cheong-myeong. Born and raised here in Xiangyang."
"Jeong Yeon-shin, from Xinye."
"Ah. So there is such a place."
Cheong-myeong laughed softly. His aura was as clear as his name. Yeon-shin reached for the weapon he had been issued by the Desolate Fortress.
The Desolate Fortress Sword. It was a high-grade blade, completely incomparable to the crude family iron sword he had used before. Its sword ring was so clear and resonant that Heonwon Chang had rushed in from the next room the first time he drew it.
I heard rumors that there's a forge belonging to the short Ironfolk here.
If the rumors were true, it was only natural that the quality of their standard-issue swords was this exceptional. Unlike the Brightfolk, who were famous for their ethereal beauty and strength, not much was known about the Ironfolk—save that their blacksmithing skills were said to be unrivaled under the heavens.
"Here I come."
"Sure. I heard your Fast Sword is superb. Let's see it."
"Then..."
A familiar vibration, one he had grown accustomed to over the past week, rose from the hand gripping the hilt.
Before Cheong-myeong even drew his sword, Yeon-shin noticed the armor-like calluses on the man's hands. The lean, solid muscles peeking through his sleeves and his perfectly upright posture were undeniable proof of formidable martial power. His gaze, which seemed to pierce straight through one's mind, felt utterly overwhelming—as if his previous casual demeanor had been nothing but a lie.
No need to worry. This is just a place to show my skills.
He cleared his mind of everything. Yeon-shin left nothing in his sense of qi but the rhythmic breaths Cheong-myeong exhaled. An inhalation, followed by a very slow exhalation.
Now.
The true qi that should have flowed to his left foot surged to the opposite side, overlapping its power. A heavy thud resounded.
With a single explosive leap powered by the Scripture of Initial Overcoming from his right foot, Yeon-shin closed the distance until Cheong-myeong's upper body seemed to fill his entire vision.
Shattering the ground beneath his feet, he drew the Desolate Fortress Sword.
The distance of five paces was sliced apart and scattered with a single draw of the blade. Exploding his tightly contracted muscles and internal energy, he unleashed a blistering succession of strikes from the Fast Sword Formula.
A roar like navigating through a typhoon beat against his eardrums, and his lower abdomen tingled with excitement. Having obtained a sword ring, he had evolved once more. It was a sensation he could feel in its entirety.
Clang!
He collided with an overwhelming sword force. He had lunged in after seeing a clear opening in his opponent's flank, but suddenly his vision shook, flashing stark white.
As his body was sent flying backward, a massive shock traveled up from his grip all the way to his elbow. He didn't even know when the other man had raised his sword to block.
Still, it's better than I thought...
Just before being blown completely away, he concentrated his true qi into the Liangqiu Point—Beam Hill, the Xuehai Point, and the Xiyangguan Point—Knee Yang Joint of his right knee.
The moment the gastrocnemius muscles on both sides of his calf twitched like those of an enraged beast, his right foot dug viciously into the training ground floor. At the exact same time, he exploded true qi from the Yongquan Point—Gushing Spring in his heel.
Crack! Whoosh!
I can do this.
His body spun a half-turn, using his anchored right foot as an axis. In a flash, he had seized the blind spot directly behind his opponent.
At the end of the Desolate Fortress Sword's trajectory, which drew a perfect half-circle along with his spinning body, lay the trapezius muscle at the back of Cheong-myeong's neck.
Following a sound like a silk curtain tearing through the air, Cheong-myeong's entire body suddenly twitched, pulsating with energy. Just as the man's figure seemed to blur, Yeon-shin's vision turned blindingly white once again.
Cheong-myeong's sword had already drawn near.
Swoosh!
Silk-Reeling Power. It rotated perfectly.
He didn't realize this by sight. The sword humming in his grip sensed the shifting texture of the air in his stead. The inspiration he had gained from Cheong-myeong's words about feeling the wind was, at this very moment, advancing his state in the Unity of Body and Sword.
Clang!
With a deafening ring like a struck gong, the martial force imbued with true qi scattered in all directions, shredding Yeon-shin's robe here and there. His arm was violently deflected upward. It was a collision of such immense force that he found it a miracle he hadn't dropped his weapon entirely.
Whoosh!
He dropped his upper body backward, parallel to the ground. It was the Iron Plate Bridge technique. It was easy to execute thanks to his right foot still being firmly anchored to the earth.
A pure white blade grazed past the tip of his nose by a hair's breadth. The sight of his stray hairs being cleanly sliced off sent a chill racing down his spine.
Yeon-shin pulled his anchored foot from the ground and kicked straight up. Using the momentum of the feint kick—which anticipated his opponent's evasion—his body flipped gracefully through the air before landing lightly on the ground.
He immediately lowered his sword and stared at Cheong-myeong with clear, unwavering eyes. He thought his upward kick had caught on something, and indeed, the blue bandana had been stripped away.
He really was of the Brightfolk.
Ears as pointed as sword tips and shimmering golden hair were features no Han person could possess. Having seen the Brightfolk quite often lately, Yeon-shin didn't think much of it and simply adjusted his grip on his hilt.
Next, I'll apply the Scripture of Initial Overcoming to the Desolate Fortress Sword... Huh?
Fully immersed in the thrill of the fight, he suddenly realized that a heavy silence had fallen over his surroundings.
Even Cheong-myeong, who had been a terrifying opponent just seconds ago, was staring at him with a thoroughly dumbfounded expression. At some point, every single warrior in the training ground had stopped what they were doing to stare at Yeon-shin with shock-filled eyes.
In any case, Cheong-myeong's identity didn't seem to be a secret.
"..."
Though he didn't quite know why, Yeon-shin could feel that the atmosphere was no longer conducive to continuing the duel. Sheathing his new sword as carefully as if he hadn't just been swinging it wildly, he tilted his head and asked.
"How was I? You said you were testing my talent."
"..."
"I know you held back for several exchanges. Please speak frankly."
"Uh..."
Not to mention the Demonlight Wing experts who had supposedly faced the Plum Blossom Sword disciples, even Cheong-myeong—who had once traded blows with Namgung's First Sword—seemed to have forgotten how to speak.
They simply stared blankly at the boy. Only after a long moment did Ma Jin speak, the scar on his face twisting.
"You. How old did you say you were?"
"Fifteen, but does that matter? Enemies don't go easy on you because of your age, so only one's current achievements matter."
Yeon-shin replied, furrowing his brow. When he was on the verge of dying young anyway, what was the point of counting the years?
However, it seemed no one even heard his last words.
Starting with Cheong-myeong, who suddenly tossed his sword—the very life of a warrior—onto the ground, the Demonlight Wing warriors began to lounge about and chime in one by one. It was an unbelievable display of laxity.
"That is a monster."
"No. It's more accurate to call him a mistake of the heavens."
"I've been to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, and I've never seen anything like that. Even if someone trained in the Path of Senses from birth, they wouldn't be like this."
"In my hometown, I was considered a peerless genius..."
"Peerless, my foot."
Ma Jin didn't even bother to quiet them down. He simply gestured toward Heonwon Chang.
"Next. Heonwon Chang, from Shanxi."
"M-Me? Right now?"
"Take your place. I will test you myself."
None of the Demonlight Wing members paid close attention to the tearful Heonwon Chang's duel. Only Yeon-shin, who had become his peer, watched closely to see if there was anything he could learn and take away.
* * *
"The Demonlight Formula is a martial art that does not discriminate between weapons."
Ma Jin, who had coincidentally returned from a mission a few days ago, immediately began his instruction. He explained that when performing missions across the vast Central Plains, it was common for months to pass in the blink of an eye, so a rest period of at least a month was guaranteed upon return.
Yeon-shin, along with Heonwon Chang, began studying the Desolate Fortress's Demonlight Formula. For Yeon-shin, it was the first time in his life learning a proper ultimate technique.
"Sword, saber, spear, fist, palm; hand, foot, axe, staff, whip. And countless other exotic weapons. The Demonlight Formula does not discriminate against any of them. That is, if you master it properly."
"How is such a thing possible? If so, there would be no need for the sword sects to painstakingly study the sword," asked Heonwon Chang, whose eye was swollen black and blue.
When teaching with words, Ma Jin was like the most broad-minded mentor under heaven, answering every question in a calm, gentle tone.
"The essence is different. The Demonlight Formula is a way of using the body. It is a comprehensive study of what can be done with human hands and feet. Excluding the bow, it encompasses everything from close-quarters hand-to-hand combat to mid-to-long-range spears."
He paused, then added:
"Therefore, it is shallow. Heonwon Chang, as you said, it cannot compare in depth to a sword sect that has solely investigated the way of the sword. But we are not the Taoists of the Wudang Sect, who hold a single Songmun Ancient Sword and swing it alone in hopes of achieving Feathered Ascension."
So that's how one can describe the Wudang Sect's Taiji Sword.
Yeon-shin listened intently, thinking it was a sword technique he wished to witness at least once in his life.
"The martial arts of our Desolate Fortress are always about fierce battle. Even for solo missions, you must assume a chaotic melee. Combat is a collection of variables! If you misstep and your posture collapses, will you still stubbornly insist on using your sword? Once you master the Demonlight Formula, you won't hesitate to discard your blade in that moment. The quality of your choices changes, which is why many of us survive."
Ma Jin glanced at Yeon-shin for a moment. He seemed to be thinking of the kick that had sent Cheong-myeong's bandana flying. Conversely, Yeon-shin recalled Cheong-myeong, who had abruptly thrown his sword away after the duel.
"Oh... Indeed."
The Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress, who had already been entirely won over, let out an exclamation of admiration. Glancing at him sitting upright next to Yeon-shin, Ma Jin's eyes gleamed with a strange light.
"However, the Demonlight Formula is a martial art that requires a corresponding level of innate adaptability and insight. If you lack those two, you must exert enough effort to forcibly carve it into your body. But do not worry."
He continued, the scar beneath his lips pulling upward into a smirk.
"Because that is the role of myself and the Demonlight Wing. The very fact that you passed the Desolate Fortress Entrance Exam proves your talent. If you follow well, you will be able to join us on our next mission."
And thus, Heonwon Chang's true ordeal began.
* * *
"Ughhh..."
The next day, something resembling a corpse stood blankly in the Demonlight Wing training ground.
As if the phrase "carving it into the body" was no exaggeration, Ma Jin had taught the mnemonics of the Demonlight Formula and demonstrated its mastery through a duel that felt exactly like real combat—using Heonwon Chang's body as the canvas.
"My Demonlight Formula hand-to-hand combat is precise. I know you can still move. It is commendable that you haven't collapsed. Reconstruct the movements as they were and bring out your achievements."
Speaking nonchalantly to the groaning Heonwon Chang, Ma Jin turned to look at Yeon-shin. Compared to his peer, Yeon-shin looked perfectly fine, as if absolutely nothing had happened to him.
With the pitch-black Desolate Fortress Sword resting at his waist, the hem of his white martial uniform fluttered in the wind. Despite his still-youthful appearance, his aura was already that of a true warrior of the Desolate Fortress.
"You have finished. Have you grasped the core of the mnemonic?"
"Adaptability without Obstruction."
"...Correct. The body always has room to move in any situation. The true essence of the Demonlight is for the flow of the Forms to remain unbroken and continue without hesitation. Insight, creativity, and adaptability. If you fully understand the mnemonic, you must now realize the profound meaning of the Forms."
"The profound meaning of the Forms?"
"Talking about it is useless; seeing is believing."
Ma Jin stood before a brick pagoda in a corner of the training ground. It was extremely rare for members of the Desolate Fortress to use cut wood. Out of consideration for the Castle Lord, who was of the Brightfolk, everything from the pavilions to the surrounding structures was made of stone, so erecting something like a wooden training log was out of the question.
"Watch."
For a brief moment, a powerful momentum settled heavily over Ma Jin's body. Then, it vanished in a flash. It seemed intended to show that he had completely relaxed his strength.
He thrust his fist straight forward, and his heavily calloused knuckles struck one side of the pagoda.
Thud!
It was impossible to tell just how much he had trained his skin's External Martial Arts for it to make such a dull, heavy sound without a shred of hesitation. At the same time, the brick pagoda collapsed into rubble with a loud clatter.
"The optimal moment and the ultimate strike. The Forms are the trajectories that draw them. Following perfect Forms yields the supreme strike. You could say it belongs to the domain of the Eye Technique, but what I wish to convey is a different principle. The Eye Technique is for watching the opponent's attacks. However, the Forms you draw already begin in the realm of instinct. There is no need to watch your own attacks."
Without even bothering to dust off his hands, Ma Jin turned back to Yeon-shin. Looking at the ruined pile of bricks, Yeon-shin thought:
The servants must have a hard time.
After briefly wondering how much the servants of the Desolate Fortress were paid to deal with this, he immediately shook off the stray thought.
It's a way of using the body in a timely manner.
It meant capturing exactly when and where to unleash one's power. Having grasped the profound meaning in an instant, Yeon-shin loosened his hands.
"This is a matter of mastery. You cannot do anything with it just by seeing it once. The more you practice, the more you will instinctively find the optimal Forms. It is a task you must make your lifelong homework."
"Is that so...?"
I don't think so, Yeon-shin thought.
Before he knew it, an inspiration that reached even further began to summon a flash of lightning in his mind.
I can do this differently. Even right now...
A sky-blue light flashed in Yeon-shin's eyes, and his hand lifted slightly.