Chapter 131: Blue Flame (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 131: Blue Flame (4)
The expressions of the Tang Clan Leader and his children were calm.
No one reproached Heonwon Chang. They didn’t even look displeased; they simply stood still, gazing at Jeong Yeon-shin. The Hero of the Desolate Fortress’s muttering was completely ignored.
“It must sound like nonsense, but after capturing the light of a full moon a few times, this water gains a mysterious efficacy,” Clan Leader Tang Un-hwang said with a faint smile.
The stiff formality from moments ago had given way to a more relaxed, polite tone. This was because Jeong Yeon-shin had requested he speak more casually back at the Desolate Fortress’s Giju Branch. Even so, hearing polite speech from one of the Eight Clan Leaders still felt burdensome. Though the boy was relatively detached from the affairs of the Jianghu, the man’s status was among the most noble in the entire martial world.
In the end, however, Tang Un-hwang did not resort to informal speech.
“It is called Spirit Water. It can substitute for an artisan’s spirituality, which only manifests when heavenly fortunes align. It is a mystical substance, much like a Dragon Vein or a spiritual vein. This is why our ancestral founder, who established our family’s martial lineage, settled here.”
The sound of water flowing down the artificial mountain seemed to wrap itself around Tang Un-hwang’s calm voice. It was a place of great elegance.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded, stroking the hilts of his two swords. “I am simply grateful.”
“The divine weapons our family periodically produces originate from this Spirit Water. It is not common, but it is not exceedingly rare either. It is still too early to speak of repaying a favor, so please, Master, do not be so hasty with your gratitude.”
He spoke with a thin smile. The bushy beard covering his mouth looked warm and friendly. Tang Un-hwang seemed to possess two sides: a cheerful disposition that felt like his true nature, and the grim look of a weary, vengeful ghost.
The memory of the latter was still vividly etched in the boy’s mind. The sight of the Tang Clan Leader unleashing the Myriad Blossoms Rain—a merciless storm that had swept away and slaughtered Ominous Sword Gal Sa-ryang and the warriors of the Thirteen Heavens—had been utterly brutal. Seeing his gentle demeanor toward Jeong Yeon-shin now, it was hard to believe he was the same person.
“We will melt down Black Iron that has already been submerged in the Spirit Water and mix it in. Weight and surface area are the main issues, but with your swords, Master, the Spirit Water can handle it. Both are typical three-foot blades, less than an inch in width. True weapons of a martial artist.”
Tang Un-hwang’s eyes swept over Jeong Yeon-shin’s twin swords. While he had seen the blade of the Desolate Fortress Sword before, he had guessed the shape of the Northern Light Sword just by looking at its hilt and scabbard.
His assessment was accurate. At three cheok—roughly a meter long—they were true weapons for a martial artist. For commoners who had not learned martial arts, it was a length that required two hands to wield.
The eyes of Tang Un-hwang and his children followed Jeong Yeon-shin’s fingers as they touched the hilts. When his fingertips momentarily brushed the Desolate Fortress Sword, Tang Un-hwang spoke again.
“Common, yet famous. Extremely well-made. It makes me wonder who the artisan is. To think this is just a standard-issue weapon of the Desolate Fortress…”
This was the sword that had long carried Jeong Yeon-shin’s Radiant Brilliance Sword Style. Just as there was a rumor that weapons made by the Ironfolk grew alongside their masters, this mass-produced sword was the one most familiar to the boy’s hand. At one point, he had believed there could be no sword in the world that suited him better.
But things were different now. He had formed the Law-Transcending Halo Qi and temporarily ascended to the Black Rank. From now on, he would repeatedly clash with top-tier experts, and the blade was already heavily chipped.
The sword can’t endure it.
It would be difficult for it to continuously withstand the terrifying internal energy and sword force of his enemies. Weapons were, by nature, consumables. There was a reason the words “standard-issue” were attached to the Desolate Fortress Sword. The warriors of the main fortress were constantly supplied with high-quality weapons every time they returned from a mission, because the experts they had to face usually possessed techniques capable of damaging steel. There was a limit to protecting a blade with internal energy alone.
Shring.
Jeong Yeon-shin drew both swords at once.
Tang Un-hwang’s eyes immediately swept down the Northern Light Sword. Sunlight rippled and distorted along the wavy patterns running down its blade. This was the sword bestowed upon him after he achieved merit at the Blood Flame Cult’s main headquarters.
“An uncommon treasure sword indeed,” Tang Un-hwang remarked. It seemed to satisfy even the eyes of the Tang Clan Leader, a renowned master craftsman.
Even Jeong Yeon-shin felt that the texture of the Northern Light Sword was special. It rode the wind exceptionally well. In terms of balance, the Desolate Fortress Sword was also flawless, but the Northern Light Sword felt different—sturdier, yet it sliced through the air with greater ease. He simply hadn’t had many opportunities to channel his sword arts through it.
Because the sword I wielded when creating the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style was the Desolate Fortress Sword.
Since he had faced so many urgent situations, he had unconsciously kept using the sword his hand was accustomed to. It was a minor vicious cycle, one that it was now time to break. Having survived numerous life-and-death struggles with a standard-issue sword, Jeong Yeon-shin had entered a new realm. No matter how attached he was to it, a divine sword would be of great help as he fought to cure his short-life syndrome.
“An excellent choice. This one is far better. Its foundation is much more precious.” The Tang Clan Leader took the hilt of the Northern Light Sword from Jeong Yeon-shin. “A weapon whose blade does not easily break is what we call a divine weapon. It keeps the blade steadfast, leaving the outcome of the battle entirely to the master’s martial arts. You must know well, Master, just how powerful a technique can be when unleashed with peace of mind.”
“Yes. Forgive me for asking, but do you know how long it will take?” the boy asked quietly.
Tang Un-hwang immediately burst into a hearty laugh. “If you are so cautious, it makes me feel rather left out. Speak without reservation, and I will answer anything. As for the time needed to forge a new divine sword, it will likely take about a month and a half. I intend to blend the spiritual Black Iron in an ideal ratio. I have already informed the master craftsmen of the family. I will be the one wielding the hammer.”
“Clan Leader. I heard you earlier, but did you say you would melt and mix in Black Iron?” Lazy Flame Dragon asked, his expression slightly surprised.
It was an extremely precious mineral, one some said was harvested from a comet that had fallen to earth. It was said that if one properly followed a secret formula for the alloy and tempered it, a mighty sword that would not break for a thousand years would be born. Although Black Iron was heavier than regular iron of the same volume, it was still considered a treasure. For some martial artists, that extra weight was a factor that enhanced their sword force.
Even a tiny amount was priceless, let alone Black Iron that had retained its spirituality for a long time within a prestigious family famous for blacksmithing. If it passed through the hands of a master craftsman along with the Northern Light Sword that had absorbed the Spirit Water, there was no telling what kind of mystical properties, worthy of the name “divine sword,” might dwell within it.
Everyone present knew this.
“Enough of that. Master, we will take care of the sword, so it is only right that we move on to other matters.” Tang Un-hwang waved his hand, as if trying to ease Jeong Yeon-shin’s burden. Carefully placing the Northern Light Sword into the stream of the artificial mountain, he spoke once more. “There is a matter no less important than the divine sword. I am aware of the suspicions held by you and the other experts of the Desolate Fortress. The Thunderbolt Bombs.”
“……”
“In fact, the Successor of the Beggar Sect gave me a heads-up. He said he came to the cliffs of the City of Master Craftsmen to deliver that message. He mentioned that several members of the Blood Master Sword, whom he had been watching for a long time, had been entering and leaving our main estate. He said they were all bald.”
“The Blood Flame Cult…!” Heonwon Chang groaned.
Jeong Yeon-shin opened his lips. “The Elder Council Head of our fortress also went missing while pursuing an apostle. We hope to obtain even a small clue.”
“But rooting them out will be extremely difficult. If they colluded with the Blood Flame Cult of all places… they must hold no ordinary position within our family. It is no easy feat to keep a secret within the historic Tang Family Pagoda.” Tang Un-hwang’s mouth was a strained line. The Clan Leader himself was speaking of a potential family disgrace.
The boy thought, If this had been the Hwangbo Clan or the Namgung Clan, they would have slaughtered the Desolate Fortress experts standing before them right now under the pretext of silencing witnesses.
The Tang Clan Leader was different. He doesn’t have the clean, monastic feel of the Nine Sects, yet he possesses deep loyalty. He is a true hero of the secular world.
While Jeong Yeon-shin admired him inwardly, the conversation continued, only serving to highlight the growing difficulty of their task. Unable to watch any longer, Lazy Flame Dragon sighed wearily.
“If it’s an old, sly fox who has nested in the Tang Clan for a long time, finding them will naturally be difficult. They must be a terrifying viper—whether in their scheming or their poison arts.”
Heonwon Chang looked dumbfounded, but the Tang Clan Leader actually agreed. “Young Brother Hwangbo is correct. The elderly blood relatives of our family are mostly insidious and deep-scheming. They might be laughing at those searching for them from behind a dark veil.”
“Why on earth would someone from our family collude with an evil cult…? I simply cannot understand…” Tang Ryeo-ryeo’s brow was furrowed. She had looked uncomfortable throughout the entire conversation.
The same went for Poison Dragon Tang Yeo-hwa. He had mastered the Tang Clan’s martial arts with a talent that everyone revered and had lived a life where he never felt lacking, even for a moment. Since the Tang Clan’s power was by no means weak, the situation was all the more incomprehensible.
Tang Un-hwang smiled at his daughter. “I know that your martial talents have bloomed with astonishing brilliance. However, it has been far too long since our family has witnessed the Myriad Blossoms Rain. I suspect someone was looking for an alternative. Whether they coveted a Blood Art mnemonic to build power separately from the Original Three Yang Art, or joined hands to seek something else…”
“It might be both,” Namgung Hwa-shin suddenly said.
But it was a conversation that yielded no answers. With the investigation sinking into a quagmire, their first day at the Tang Clan drew to a close.
*
“His rise is truly astonishing. The Desolate Fortress enjoys far too much good fortune.”
“Do you mean the White Qilin…? Or perhaps Flash Art?”
It was a deep cave. Senile voices echoed in the darkness.
“Both are here. That greenhorn Flash Art was polished first. He is none other than a Black Rank.”
“Ha, haha…” A raspy, old laugh leaked out in fragments. “The Black Rank… I saw him during the competition before his duel with the Namgung Clan. I thought he was overflowing with talent, but to think he has truly blossomed… Amazing, truly amazing.”
“He resolved my lifelong wish on his very first trip to Sichuan. Calling to heaven, yet receiving no answer—I appealed to the heavens my entire life to grant me the inspiration for the Myriad Blossoms Rain, yet my foolish son was the one who took my life’s desire. That rising star of yours, Flash Art… is extremely dangerous. He was born with a martial talent that drags divine ultimate techniques down to the realm of mere tricks.”
That statement seemed to infuse the previously lifeless voice with robust strength. The voice that had been struggling to reply became remarkably clear.
“That is indeed surprising. I certainly do not wish to hold him back. Tell me, why are you keeping this old body alive?”
“Because it is still not enough. My grandsons’ bodies are strange. I clearly reconstructed a significant portion of Flash Art’s Human Body Diagram, but the results are unsatisfactory. My grandsons cannot wield talent like that boy. Even though I thoroughly examined your body with the True Qi of the Blood Art and the Three Yang Art.”
At the same time, a hearty laugh burst out. “You do not understand the word ‘genius.’ It is literally a martial talent bestowed by heaven. How dare a mere human attempt to encroach upon it through acquired means? It is a futile struggle. Be content with your lot.”
“Babble all you want, Elder Council Head of the Desolate Fortress.”
*
The next day, Jeong Yeon-shin was invited to a banquet hosted by the Supreme Elder of the Sichuan Tang Clan.
It was to be expected. The conflict between the Clan Leader and the Supreme Elder had not ended. This was a martial clan where blood and power constantly shifted. There was no way the Supreme Elder, who had once held absolute power, would easily let go of his authority.
The banquet hall was magnificent, its interior rivaling the size of a decent training ground. Along with the loud chirping of summer cicadas, the scent of grass drifted in through the windows. The tables, made of ancient wood and arranged in a hollow square, were also antiques. Ten people sat along each row. With dancers performing in the center and musicians playing the zither, the banquet was already in full swing, glowing like the red lanterns hung about the hall.
Everyone held their cups or ate delicacies, exchanging greetings and discussing martial arts. Some were debating the political situation in Sichuan.
“I heard the young brats of the Heterodox Sects held a gathering in Shunjing Prefecture. It’s truly the end of days. To think those Unorthodox scumbags are roaming around in broad daylight, calling themselves rising stars.”
“There are also rumors that the Sect Leader of the Qingcheng Sect has passed away. They say he was killed by a peerless swordsman.”
“Do you mean the Red Haze Sword Venerable? What nonsense… Rather, the rumor that the Small Sword Empress of the Diancang Sect has made her debut alongside disciples from the Emei and Qingcheng sects is far more credible and interesting. Our family’s Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons ought to put them in their place at least once.”
Jeong Yeon-shin had already accepted several cups of wine. They were all the Supreme Elder’s people. He had just learned how to handle such hospitality during the Sword Discussion in Xuzhou. Simply humoring them was enough to bring smiles to their faces.
It was then.
“Beating around the bush is getting tiresome. You there.”
It was the Supreme Elder, who sat next to Jeong Yeon-shin. He wore the same golden robe he had worn when they first met. His eyes, squinting as he stared at the boy from the side, were half-closed. Was he drunk, deliberately choosing not to expel the alcohol? Or was he intentionally feigning a hazy gaze?
He must be a terrifying viper.
The words Lazy Flame Dragon had spoken flashed through his mind.
“Tell me, Flash Art. What are you thinking so deeply about? There is worry written on your face. And here you are, a rising star who has the whole world in his hands.”
“……”
“Is it not so? Black Rank expert of the Desolate Fortress,” the Supreme Elder asked quietly. Something akin to an abyss lingered in his aged breath.
Before anyone realized it, silence had descended upon the banquet hall. The sharp, glittering gazes of the experts were focused entirely on Jeong Yeon-shin.
“I was simply,” the boy spoke calmly, “curious about your business. Did you not just mention beating around the bush?”
“Ah… indeed. That makes sense.” The corners of the Supreme Elder’s mouth curled upward. It was a smile tinged with a faint madness, the movement almost like a tear in his expression. “I called you because I was curious. That day, you passed the technique of the Myriad Blossoms Rain to my son, did you not? It was a truly incomprehensible sight. You merely held his hand and let go, yet how did our Clan Leader become able to command the petals? As a martial artist, I tried not to ask, but precisely because I am a martial artist, I was too curious to contain myself.”
This was a banquet hall where he had gathered his loyal experts to his left, right, and front. It was a place where even words that were not demands transformed into pressure. The Supreme Elder asked quietly, “Could you enlighten this old martial artist? Aside from the Myriad Blossoms Rain that has already returned to our family’s embrace, I am extremely curious about your martial arts technique. Is this too shameless a request?”
“…No. It is not difficult.” Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his lips. “Since it is the request of the most venerable person in the house where I am staying. If we are talking about the person with the highest status in the Tang Clan, there is surely no one other than you, Supreme Elder.”
“No, no. The young ones who support our family are the truly noble ones.” The Supreme Elder shook his head slightly in humility, a smile playing on his lips. A small cheer rippled through the experts gathered in the banquet hall.
“Then,” Jeong Yeon-shin extended his hand to the Supreme Elder.
At the same time, he activated his Law-Transcending Halo Qi. The Supreme Elder of the Sichuan Tang Clan was different from the Thirteen Heavens warriors who had witnessed the slaying of the Blade-Fist Demon. The Dharma Power of the Law-Transcending Halo Qi was subtle, not something that could be detected from a distance. He had built the framework of his divine art’s mnemonic using verses from the Diamond Sutra and the Vegetable Root Discourses. It was heavy within his body, yet subtle on the outside.
The nature of a divine art mastered by an expert of a great sect was highly precious information. Every single expert of the Thirteen Heavens who had noticed the Dharma Power of the Halo Qi was dead. It was only highly likely that the Tenth Sect had learned of it through the Halberd-Surpassing Sword So Jin-rang. However, the land of Sichuan was vast, and there was a limit to the speed at which news traveled. He had even recovered all the treasures, including the spirit beast, that had been in So Jin-rang’s possession.
Unless it was the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand, which had been known for a long time, the function of the Law-Transcending Halo Qi was still a top secret.
Their hands met.
Even as they did, the boy thought to himself, Surely, the Supreme Elder of a clan wouldn't be the one.
“Aaaargh!”
A scream erupted. It came from the mouth of the Supreme Elder.
“…?”
For a brief, fleeting moment, Jeong Yeon-shin found himself entirely at a loss for words. It was a rare occurrence for him to be so uncharacteristically flustered, his usual stoic composure cracking under the sheer absurdity of the situation unfolding right before his eyes. The Supreme Elder's sudden scream still echoed in the confined space, a jarring testament to the utter chaos of this faction. Deep within the recesses of his mind, two distinct presences stirred simultaneously. The ancient, imposing voice of Heonwon Chang intertwined with the archaic resonance of the Lazy Flame Dragon, both speaking to him at the exact same time.
Their shared sentiment echoed loudly through his consciousness: Could there really be another martial clan in the entire world that is such a complete and utter mess? The sheer lack of discipline and the sudden, treacherous turn of events were practically unheard of for a faction that claimed any shred of prestige.
"You bastard!" a voice roared, thick with killing intent.
"Release him at once!" another bellowed in furious unison.
The men who had been sitting rigidly to his left and right suddenly sprang to their feet. Their reaction speed was genuinely terrifying, a testament to years of grueling martial training. They moved with a synchronized, explosive agility, their hands shooting out from their sides like blinding flashes of lightning. At some unseen point during the brief exchange, these elite warriors belonging to the Supreme Elder had already slipped their hands deep into the folds of their robes. Now, they were drawing their concealed weapons with lethal precision.
Without a single moment of hesitation, their arms whipped forward, hurling a deadly payload straight toward Jeong Yeon-shin's vital points. The air was instantly torn apart by the whistling shriek of flying metal. A terrifying barrage of hidden weapons—darts, throwing knives, and poisoned needles—erupted from their sleeves. Interwoven among the steel projectiles were razor-sharp silver threads, glinting with a sinister light as they sought to ensnare and slice through flesh and bone. The combined assault rained down upon him from all directions, converging like a merciless storm of blinding, lethal beams of light.
Facing the inescapable net of death, Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression hardened into a mask of pure concentration. He smoothly extended his left hand forward, his movements possessing a fluid, almost ethereal grace that completely belied the imminent danger. Deep within his body, profound inner qi surged, channeling rapidly through his meridians. A powerful wave of dual forces—absorption and release—radiated outward from the Laogong and Shaofu acupoints located at the very center of his palm.
The air around his hand distorted violently. Along with this tremendous surge of internal energy came the manifestation of his martial prowess: the rotating shockwave of the halo. It flared to life and began to spin in an instant, creating a localized vortex of devastating kinetic energy that warped the very space around him.
The sheer pressure of his aura transformed the once-quiet room into a chaotic tempest. Porcelain cups, wooden plates, and various other household items were ripped from the tables, flying through the air and shaking violently as the atmospheric pressure plummeted. Amidst this storm of flying debris and lethal projectiles, the profound mnemonic of his divine ultimate technique pulsed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind with a flawless, genius rhythm.
Myriad Blossoms Rain.
Whoosh!
A deafening rush of wind swallowed the room. The lethal barrage of incoming hidden weapons and silver threads suddenly froze in mid-air, pausing for a brief, impossible moment as they were caught in the overwhelming gravitational pull of his technique. Then, yielding to his absolute control, the weapons began to swirl rapidly in a massive vortex, spinning with such ferocity that they seemed ready to scrape the entire room clean of all life. In a single, breathtaking instant, the master of these deadly instruments changed. Driven by a roaring tempest that violently clashed against the very air itself, all the lethal beams of light were violently redirected, sent hurtling right back toward the men who had thrown them.