Chapter 102: The Flash Art Lineage (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 102: The Flash Art Lineage (2)
Wuchang was only a single post-station's ride from Xiangyang.
Their return was swift. Comprised of Blue, Black, and Purple Rank experts, the group rode without rest, quickly arriving at the main stronghold of the Desolate Fortress in Xiangyang.
It was a refreshingly fast pace. The only blemish on the journey was the pale complexion of Namgung Hwa-shin, who had been knocked unconscious by Ak Su-rim on the day of the duel and had only recently come to.
"I will handle the mission report. Along with Senior Ak," Yeon-shin told him. It was a small mercy. The White Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin, had been powerless to do anything at his own family's estate.
It was a miserable state of affairs. He must have suffered immense anguish leading up to their arrival at Clear Night Valley, the site of the duel.
"...Thank you, Young Hero Jeong."
Nodding, Namgung Hwa-shin turned away. The hem of his long blue robe draped from his tall frame, fluttering listlessly in the wind.
He looked as though he would head straight to the guest quarters of the Heaven-Aligned Wing—the unit to which he belonged—and collapse onto a bed.
Yeon-shin stared blankly at his retreating back. What must he be feeling? It was difficult to even fathom.
"That was for the best."
Standing beside the boy, Ak Su-rim spoke in a casual, offhand tone.
"The Azure Sky Sword Heaven Unit Commander is not someone a rising star can handle. He belongs to the Black Rank realm, comparable to the leader of the Plum Blossom Swordmasters. You and Namgung Hwa-shin—whichever of you crossed swords with him would have died instantly. You wouldn't have lasted more than a few exchanges. You had the justification to back down, but to save Namgung Hwa-shin, we had to resort to force."
She was referring to how she had knocked Namgung Hwa-shin unconscious right before the duel.
Yeon-shin agreed with her reasoning.
"I do not blame you, Senior Ak. At least, I don't," he said. "It's just... it seems Young Hero Namgung feels it would have been better to die there."
The boy did not take his eyes off Namgung Hwa-shin's back. He was a comrade he had bonded with through competition and traveled alongside on a mission.
Perhaps it was because of his pitiful family circumstances. A strange sense of kinship made it difficult for Yeon-shin to simply look away.
"Hmm."
Ak Su-rim pressed her lips together, seemingly having nothing to say in response.
"Yeon-shin."
An aged voice, brimming with domineering energy, echoed out. It was his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok.
Showing no interest in Namgung Hwa-shin, the old man looked only at his grandson as he continued.
"I know that Se-in's mother committed a grave insolence against you. It happened just before this mission. In the rush of things, I could not make her apologize. Please, visit the Ma family's annex in the main fortress. Our family will welcome you with all our heart."
His words brought Ju Yeon-jeong to mind. He recalled that she was a collateral member of the imperial family.
She was the biological mother of Ma Se-in, the successor of the Desolate Ma Clan. She had tried to win over Jeong Yeon-shin, who carried the Ma bloodline, by any means necessary.
Now, he felt no lingering resentment toward her. Thanks to that incident, he had been able to open his heart to Heonwon Chang, Baek Mi-ryeo, and Cheong-myeong.
"There is no need—"
Just as Yeon-shin was about to shake his head, Ma Yeon-jeok's stern expression crumbled. He looked almost desperate.
"I understand your concern. You must fear that we will drag you into the Ma family and shackle you with its burdens. I swear on my life, we will do no such thing. Please, look upon this as the regret of a foolish old man who severed the heavenly ties with his daughter—your mother—first. Everything... was the result of my own lack of virtue."
"Ah, so that's what happened."
Standing beside them, Ak Su-rim nodded with an understanding look. When Ma Yeon-jeok glared at her, as if warning her not to interfere in family matters, she merely shot him a contemptuous side-eye.
"No wonder I never saw him around the Ma family. To think they had a child like this."
"Silence, brat. How dare an outsider interfere in the affairs of blood relatives?"
"Your mouth is as foul as ever. I wonder if your skills are still the same, though. You were terrifying back when you were the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, but lately, you seem quite manageable."
"Do you truly wish to die?"
"Aren't you the one groaning in pain because you couldn't achieve Rejuvenation, Grandpa Ma? I'm starting to think about reaching the Purple Rank myself. I wonder if the Grand Steward's office will recognize it if I beat up a decrepit old man?"
Just as Ak Su-rim's lips curved into a fierce arc and she reached for the spear shaft on her back—
"I shall take my leave first," Yeon-shin said calmly, turning on his heel. His movement suggested he would walk away without a second thought.
It was the exact moment the energy of a Black Rank and a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress were about to clash. His action was entirely intentional, and fortunately, it seemed to work perfectly.
The oppressive momentum of the two supreme experts vanished instantly.
They were bickering in front of a junior far below them. They had made fools of themselves.
"I will consider your words, Grandfather," Yeon-shin said, clasping his hands in a polite salute.
His grandfather, whose face had flushed red, nodded. Seeing this, Yeon-shin truly realized the weight of the old man's confession—that maintaining his peak condition was difficult due to having trained in the Tyrannical Way.
It was said that Orthodox martial arts, which cultivated both mind and body, progressed endlessly, even if slowly.
The old masters of the Nine Sects, who were of a similar age to Ma Yeon-jeok, likely possessed profound mental cultivation.
"...Thank you."
Ma Yeon-jeok nodded, having no way of knowing what his grandson was thinking.
"What a shame," Ak Su-rim said, refusing to stop her provocations until the very end. As the boy finally turned and walked away, she let out a smirk and followed him.
Yeon-shin headed toward the Grand Steward's office with Ak Su-rim, the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress. He did not delay any longer.
The moment they reached the main building of the Grand Steward's office, a man in a brown robe welcomed them.
He had a pitch-black beard and a robust, imposing build.
It was Im Jin-myeong. He was the Grand Steward of the Desolate Fortress, and his broad grin toward Yeon-shin made him look like a jovial mountain bandit.
"I have heard of your victory. Our Lord's direct disciple has performed splendidly. I have been waiting eagerly for you."
"Are you using honorifics with a Blue Rank just because he's the Lord's direct disciple? You haven't changed a bit, Grand Steward."
Ak Su-rim also seemed to be acquainted with him. It was only natural.
Yeon-shin and Ak Su-rim were immediately guided to the annex of the Grand Steward's office. It was the very place where Yeon-shin had previously discussed his achievements with the Grand Steward.
The three of them sat down.
There were no teacups. It seemed to be due to the urgency of the situation. Only the faint scent of ink wafted over the bare, empty desk.
Thud!
The moment they settled at the table, the words "Elder Council Head" escaped the Grand Steward's mouth.
"Senior Ak, I received the urgent letter. It said the Elder Council Head did not join you. I do not know if it is true that contact was lost while he was pursuing the Blood Flame Cult Apostle..."
The safety of a Purple Rank expert was indeed a matter of grave importance. Yet, at the same time, it wasn't.
It was an ambiguous issue that could just as easily be left alone. Such was the nature of their martial arts and status. Who would dare worry about the safety of a peerless expert, a true rarity in the world?
"So he hasn't returned to the main fortress yet, as I thought," the Grand Steward said. He and Ak Su-rim exchanged hesitant tones. They could not decide whether to take this matter seriously or dismiss it as the whim of an absolute master.
"He is a man of free spirit, so perhaps he is simply enjoying a rare excursion..."
At the Grand Steward's words, Ak Su-rim shook her head.
"I doubt it. If that were the case, he would have at least sent a messenger pigeon. I have a bad feeling about this."
Yeon-shin listened in silence. He felt that, with his standing as a Blue Rank, it was not his place to butt in.
"You are not wrong. It seems we must dispatch a search party. And right when we are already short on experts."
The Grand Steward immediately pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer and spread it out. Holding an ink-dipped brush upright, he began to write.
Ak Su-rim watched him quietly before speaking.
"I'm worried about the gap in our forces. It will be trouble if the leaders of the great sects start moving. Especially those bastards from the Thirteen Heavens."
"As long as it does not become widely known, we will be fine. We can still manage for now."
Yeon-shin silently agreed with the Grand Steward.
The power that sustained the Desolate Fortress did not lie in the hands of a select few Purple Rank experts.
They were symbols of the main fortress—trump cards deployed for swift assassination missions, not forces to be relied upon on a daily basis. There were simply too few of them.
The seventeen martial units of the Divine Sword Corps.
They were the true, fundamental force of deterrence.
The experts of the Demonlight Wing had once fought to a draw against the Plum Blossom Swordmasters of the Mount Hua Sect. He had heard this happened even before he entered the fortress.
The Plum Blossom Swordmasters had been renowned as the absolute elite long before the Nine Sects were even called the Nine Great Sects.
And that was just one of the martial units under the Divine Sword Corps.
The Nine Sects and the Thirteen Heavens.
This meant that the Desolate Fortress possessed seventeen of the elite groups that each great sect had only one of.
This was why the main fortress's missions to maintain public peace could span the entire world, even if it was done with great difficulty.
"Ah."
The Grand Steward suddenly looked up, an apologetic expression on his face.
"I have been rude to you, Young Hero Jeong. You came to report on the mission, didn't you? Since the entire martial world in the vicinity already knows of it, I will consider the report received. Go and rest to relieve your fatigue."
"Yes. I will await my next mission at the Demonlight Wing."
The Grand Steward's face instantly turned sour.
"No, is that really necessary...? You have only just returned... and the rewards for this mission have not even been calculated yet."
"I will wait for the next mission," Yeon-shin emphasized once more. Opportunities to directly express his resolve to the head of the Grand Steward's office did not come often.
He drove the point home to the Grand Steward, who now looked utterly exasperated.
Ak Su-rim spoke with a bright smile.
"Yeon-shin, I'll drop by the Demonlight Wing pavilion soon. I plan to laze around for a bit before heading out again."
"Yes, I look forward to your guidance."
There was no reason to refuse. Yeon-shin decided to look forward to the visit of the Black Rank expert.
"Then, excuse me."
He rose, offered his respects, and stepped out of the annex. At that moment, several people approached the boy.
The scholars of the Grand Steward's office, with whom he had established a favorable first impression, stood up one by one to greet him.
"Young Hero Jeong, your name has reached our ears!"
"I heard you slayed the Namgung Young Master! Are you not now, in name and reality, the rising star of our main fortress?"
"The variety of missions you will undertake is sure to grow."
Yeon-shin politely returned the greetings of those who might one day hold authority over personnel appointments. Only then could he leave the Grand Steward's office with a light heart.
Squelch.
The ground beneath his feet was muddy. Perhaps it was due to the rain that had fallen last night.
Time flies.
It was already midsummer.
Whoosh.
A sudden, refreshing breeze swept across the softened earth. It brushed past the hair of the boy standing blankly in place.
It was also a reflection of his mind—the fear of a life with less than three and a half years remaining.
No matter the variable... I could have died.
The Azure Qilin was strong. The Namgung Clan Head was powerful.
And the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps was supreme. "Noble" was the right word for him, even as he spat up blood.
The boy always had to let his useless emotions drift away with the wind.
He feared the primal terror that would consume him if he failed to do so. If he wished to survive in this chaotic martial world, this was the correct path.
His temperament and disposition were tools—a composure he had forged himself. It was his own divine sword, crafted to win every battle.
"..."
Yeon-shin stood in silence for a moment, emptying his mind. For a boy from a rural village in Xinye County to survive at the center of the martial world, this was an absolute necessity.
And so, this mission came to a close.
The lukewarm summer breeze fluttered his clothes once more, as if speaking to him in silence:
You have survived once again, achieved fitting merits, and taken another step forward toward life.
After a brief silence, the boy agreed.
* * *
It was just as Yeon-shin, heading toward the Demonlight Wing, arrived at the pavilion.
"Brother Jeong!"
"It's Brother Flash Art!"
A crowd poured out of the pavilion, which boasted an elegant roof ridge.
They were mostly young—boys and girls.
Among the group of about fifteen, only a few youthful young men were scattered here and there.
"I heard you beat the young master of the Namgung Clan! Tell us all about it!"
"No, Brother Jeong needs to rest first."
They chattered warmly, tugging at the hem of Yeon-shin's blue robe.
They were the apprentice warriors of the Demonlight Wing.
Although the experts of the Desolate Fortress followed the hierarchy of White, Blue, Black, and Purple Ranks, they were not the only ones who acted as its martial artists.
Those who wore colored martial uniforms occupied the upper echelons of the martial world.
Even a White Rank warrior of a martial unit under the Divine Sword Corps was an expert far beyond the reach of third-rate wanderers in the martial world.
However, there were also those without color. They were referred to as nameless disciples.
"Brother, please teach me the Infinite Flower of Time Fist. I looked at the manual, but I don't understand it. And they say we can't even look at it anymore. That ugly scholar uncle said so."
"I asked first! The Radiant Brilliance Sword Style! Please show us the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style just once!"
The tugging on his robe was quite strong, and their clamor was intense.
The children had always liked Yeon-shin, but today, their enthusiasm felt even more overwhelming.
My sect-exclusive martial arts.
He was referring to the Infinite Flower of Time Fist and the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style. His decision to donate these martial arts—made to accumulate merits and to deter any potential counter-techniques that might arise—seemed to have borne fruit.
It was then.
"Senior Flash Art."
Someone approached hesitantly. It was a girl wearing a white robe styled like a court dress.
Her steps were exceptionally graceful and light, indicating she had mastered a high-level footwork technique.
It was Shin So-bin of the Desolate Shin Clan. She was a martial artist who had entered as Yeon-shin's junior.
The precious daughter of a prestigious clan being assigned to the Demonlight Wing had once caused quite a stir.
"Congratulations on the success of your mission."
"Shin So-bin."
Yeon-shin nodded slightly to her. A faint smile played on Shin So-bin's lips before vanishing.
"I am also practicing the Infinite Flower of Time Fist. Even by my own standards, I think I've achieved decent progress up to the third form. The principles of the forms are incredibly novel. Thank you for allowing us to learn such a profound martial art."
"Congratulations," the boy praised.
Shin So-bin carefully studied his calm face.
"Um, by any chance, may I ask when the fourth form will be made available? It seemed like the flow of the forms was meant to continue," she asked with an earnest expression.
She is talking about Brilliant River.
That seemed to be her true inquiry. Yeon-shin unconsciously recalled Namgung Se-jin's face.
The face that had smiled while speaking of the Sanzu River, the eyes that had held only Yeon-shin, the spirit that had spoken of freedom at the very end...
"I won't be donating that one," the boy replied immediately.