Chapter 140: The Turbulent Return Journey (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 140: The Turbulent Return Journey (5)
To anyone else, it would look as though she had managed to startle herself. Her expression was just that bizarre.
In this moment, the Small Sword Empress didn't resemble a renowned swordswoman of the Jianghu; instead, she looked like a commoner frozen in shock on the street.
Rather than having lost her confidence...
She seemed deeply shaken by something completely beyond Jeong Yeon-shin's comprehension.
"Are you saying you will come quietly?" the boy asked politely once more.
Lazy Flame Dragon, currently holding the scruff of Sa Do-ryeong's neck—the Sun-Piercing Sword and junior disciple to the Small Sword Empress—simply shook his head.
He leaned in and playfully whispered into Sa Do-ryeong's ear, remarking that it was rare to see someone pull off such a mercurial personality so flawlessly.
With his acupoints sealed, Sa Do-ryeong could only glare, his eyes wide as he stared at his senior sister. His gaze alone screamed his inner turmoil. It was the look of a man witnessing the impossible.
"Yes... Well, after basking in the young hero's sword sphere, the sheer depth of my own rashness has blossomed into vivid reality."
She flashed a bright smile, completely erasing any trace of the cold sweat that had just drenched her.
"Besides, it wouldn't hurt to broaden my horizons. Surprisingly, not many martial artists from the Nine Sects have ever set foot inside the Desolate Fortress."
"I will not tolerate any rash actions," Jeong Yeon-shin said, his expression perfectly calm.
The Small Sword Empress's eyes curved into smiling crescents.
"There is still plenty of time before the Alliance's Foundation Ceremony. Traveling the Jianghu alongside the experts of your noble fortress doesn't sound like a bad idea at all."
The way she looked at the boy had fundamentally changed. She no longer viewed him as a mere gatekeeper standing between her and a Purple Rank expert.
Her gaze swept over Jeong Yeon-shin's entire body with meticulous care. Rather than a probing search for weaknesses, it radiated a pure, unadulterated passion for martial arts. Even while willingly submitting as a prisoner, she maintained the undeniable dignity of a swordswoman.
She soon let out a soft sigh.
"If only my junior disciples weren't here."
Having just traded a clash of energy with the Small Sword Empress, Jeong Yeon-shin had achieved a brief moment of mutual understanding with her. He immediately grasped the true meaning behind her words.
She meant that if the Sun-Piercing Sword and the Diancang Dance Sword hadn't been subdued and held hostage, she would have properly tested Jeong Yeon-shin's blade.
She is completely different from Great Hero Sword Dragon.
She spoke harsh words lightly, yet her values were rock-solid. Even though she had been driven into a corner, her passion for the sword remained absolute.
With Namgung Hwa-shin's Desolate Fortress Sword held right beneath her chin, the Diancang Dance Sword wore a faint, tearful expression.
"Senior sister..."
The woman, who usually possessed a sturdy and resolute countenance, now looked downright pitiful. Yet, Namgung Hwa-shin's white sword remained as unyielding as a stone statue.
His former polite demeanor as a righteous hero was now tinged with the cold, uncompromising spirit of a Desolate Fortress martial artist.
The incident at the City of Master Craftsmen hadn't just changed Jeong Yeon-shin. The White Qilin's resolve was also forging into something unbreakable.
The death of the half-brother he had followed so closely, the revenge for his sister that he couldn't exact with his own hands, and the slaughter of the main fortress martial artists he had witnessed at the City of Master Craftsmen—all of it had left a mark.
He was growing alongside Jeong Yeon-shin, his comrade-in-arms. He had finally awakened to the harsh reality of the Murim: nothing could be protected unless one's hands were ruthless.
"That is enough," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
At his command, Namgung Hwa-shin withdrew his blade. With a clear ring, the Desolate Fortress Sword traced a graceful arc and returned to its scabbard. The seamless sheathing of the weapon in a single fluid breath was a testament to his mastery.
Lazy Flame Dragon tapped the back of Sa Do-ryeong's neck, releasing his sealed acupoints.
"You...!"
In an instant, Sa Do-ryeong, the Sun-Piercing Sword, convulsively gripped his hilt once more.
But he could not draw it.
He had met Lazy Flame Dragon's vacant gaze. It was an entirely different look from when he joked around with Jeong Yeon-shin.
The dry flame born of a tragically short-lived life existed in his heart as well, manifesting as a colorless light in his eyes.
"I have many fond memories of the Nine Sects. I hope you won't bring shame to the reputation of your great mountain sect."
His words were accompanied by the fervent yang true qi of the Solar Divine Pulse. A searing, overwhelming pressure bore down on Sa Do-ryeong.
Lazy Flame Dragon slowly continued.
"Is there any other martial lineage in the current Jianghu that can truly be called orthodox besides you guys? As far as I know, it's only the Nine Sects. We live in a world where words like 'fair and square' can only be found on holy religious mountains—whether Buddhist or Taoist."
His languid tone carried the undeniable dignity befitting the young master of a great noble clan.
Sa Do-ryeong's expression faltered. In the end, he slowly let go of his hilt and bowed his head.
"Good boy. Quite obedient," Lazy Flame Dragon teased as he stepped back. Beside him, Heonwon Chang offered a welcoming smirk.
"The nameless disciple has quite a tongue on him. You're pretty useful as a junior."
"..."
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin watched the Small Sword Empress, who was conversing with the Diancang Dance Sword.
"Senior sister, you did well. I weighed the odds, but clashing with the Desolate Fortress here would have brought nothing but misfortune," the Diancang Dance Sword said, her sharp eyes bearing witness to her upright nature.
The Small Sword Empress, absentmindedly stroking her hilt, replied half-heartedly.
"Ah, is that so?"
"As disciples of the orthodox faction, we cannot engage in a fight without a righteous cause. It would only bring shame upon our sect."
"Uh... right."
"The Sect Leader would have been furious. Even if we won by some stroke of luck, the aftermath would be a massive headache... and if you had lost in front of everyone, there would be no greater humiliation. To be frank, I believe you would have lost. Just looking at the black robe worn by that man, the Flash Art, is enough to tell that the rumors about him are no exaggeration."
The moment her eyes met Jeong Yeon-shin's, the Diancang Dance Sword quickly looked away. She treated him like an ominous, unexploded Thunderbolt Bomb.
"In any case, isn't it better to frame this as traveling together rather than being dragged away as prisoners? You brought this on yourself, senior sister. I advised you so many times to restrain your curiosity."
"Sorry, sorry."
"The Desolate Fortress treats the Nine Sects relatively gently, so it would be best to stay in Xiangyang for a while before attending the Alliance's Foundation Ceremony. In any case, I'm glad you made the right decision in the end."
"Hmm...? Right? Exactly."
The Small Sword Empress turned her head with a sheepish grin, looking straight at Jeong Yeon-shin.
Their eyes met. The boy gave a slight nod.
There was a reason he had bothered to wait for this outcome. Having the group of Diancang's great disciples join them offered a massive tactical advantage.
Traveling the Jianghu with their VIPs under the protection of a single Desolate Fortress martial unit was entirely different from traveling with key figures of the Nine Sects in tow. In a situation where they had to avoid conflict at all costs, this would change everything.
And in a very positive way.
As it happened, he hadn't even truly crossed swords with the Small Sword Empress. It was framed as a form of companionship. The future Sect Leader of Diancang, highly renowned for her sword arts, was now essentially escorting them.
It was no exaggeration to say they now had the Diancang Sect at their back, guaranteeing a much smoother journey.
He thought it had turned out exceptionally well.
Compared to the vastness of the world, the Desolate Fortress was still small. To keep ignorant local tyrants and minor sects in check, the name of the Nine Sects—deeply rooted all over the Central Plains—was far more effective as a deterrent.
This was especially true outside of Huguang, the Desolate Fortress's home territory. The supreme prestige of the Nine Sects was a shield absolutely worth utilizing.
"Uh... where should I stand?"
The Small Sword Empress approached with hesitant steps, strangely walking on eggshells. She kept glancing at the hilt at Jeong Yeon-shin's waist, making her burning interest painfully obvious.
The sword, and martial arts.
Her desire to meet the Purple Rank experts must have stemmed from that exact same obsession.
The boy replied curtly.
"You will take the lead."
"...Can't I walk beside you? Your grip seemed rather unusual."
She spoke out of nowhere, clearly referring to Jeong Yeon-shin's starting stance for the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style.
The boy shook his head. It wasn't even worth entertaining.
"Take the lead."
"I'm just curious about your sword arts, young hero. I'd like to get to know you. Can't we be friends?"
Her tone had become entirely casual. Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. There was zero need to indulge the Small Sword Empress's eccentricities.
He gave a silent nod to the drivers leading the carriages, signaling the resumption of their long journey.
"Hyah!"
The procession of four-horse carriages began to roll forward once more. The crowd that had been watching from a distance startled and quickly scrambled out of the way.
The rhythmic clattering of horse hooves drowned out all other distractions.
"Ah, I've never met a peer who interests me this much."
As the Small Sword Empress lingered, she was physically nudged along by the Diancang Dance Sword. Burdened by her willful senior, the Diancang Dance Sword's voice dissolved into a heavy sigh. Senior sister, please.
Thus, the Diancang Sect group joined the procession.
Though it was a decision made on the fly, it quickly yielded remarkable results.
Seven days and nights.
That was how long Jeong Yeon-shin's procession traveled completely undisturbed.
* * *
"To think we're already in Xiangyang," Heonwon Chang muttered as he walked side-by-side with Jeong Yeon-shin.
A warm breeze brushed against the headband tied around the Desolate Fortress Hero's forehead. The silence of the quiet mountain path was filled only by the steady clopping of horse hooves.
It was a peaceful, leisurely trek.
They are highly effective, Jeong Yeon-shin thought, watching the backs of the Diancang disciples walking ahead.
Originally, he had expected a certain amount of pursuit.
In the wider martial world, the Desolate Fortress was not an omnipotent entity. There were generally two types of sects that could turn hostile: minor sects that believed their own little pond was the entire ocean, and great sects that carefully observed the shifting tides of the world. In truth, that meant virtually everyone was a potential enemy.
The world was vast—vast enough to be called boundless.
Ignorant minor sects might charge in blindly, seeking to build their fame on his corpse. Great sects, on the other hand, would bide their time, plotting the perfect moment to silence them forever.
"...Nothing is happening. It's getting boring now."
Lazy Flame Dragon lay flat on the roof of a four-horse carriage, resting his head on his crossed arms.
The name of Diancang—a pillar of the Nine Sects whose reputation stretched from Yunnan to the far edges of Sichuan—was simply that immense. Its authority was no less than that of the great noble clans who privately fashioned themselves as royalty.
The Small Sword Empress of Diancang was practically comparable to a crown princess. Her status was incredibly exalted. This was especially true now that the unorthodox factions of Sichuan's Thirteen Heavens had been virtually annihilated.
The long hair of the figure walking some distance ahead swayed.
"Young Master Jeong...! Since there's no one around, how about a quick duel... No, never mind."
The Small Sword Empress, who had spun around to ask with a soft yet awkward expression, quickly turned back around.
After restraining herself for so long, the request had finally burst out of her, only for her to suddenly remember that Jeong Yeon-shin's maternal grandfather was lying sick inside the carriage.
She harbored a profound interest in the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style she had briefly glimpsed during their clash of sword spheres. Bound by the strict etiquette of the Jianghu, she couldn't bring herself to openly ask about the origins of his sword technique, so her desire to cross blades with him only swelled like gathering storm clouds.
"..."
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply.
She did not inspire the same feeling in him as the Sword Dragon Wiji Myo-hwa or the Azure Qilin Namgung Se-jin. Though she had earned a righteous reputation as the Small Sword Empress, to the boy, she was nothing more than an eccentric nuisance.
He treated her merely as a highly effective tool.
And indeed, she is.
Just as he was calmly assessing her utility, a voice echoed out.
"So you were here. My sister, Mi-ryeo."
To the front left, on a wide stretch of the mountain path, stood a figure who seemed to have descended like a mirage from the Great Desert beyond the Great Wall.
She was a Westerner, just like the demons of the Pure Demon Alliance. Her hair was not the typical blonde of her people, but the deep black of the Central Plains, contrasting sharply with her vivid, striking blue eyes.
Her slouched posture made her look casual, almost unrefined. She certainly didn't carry herself like the leader of a major sect.
Yet, the moment Jeong Yeon-shin saw her, he instantly spun his halo.
A sudden disaster had struck. The aura she exuded was similar to Senior Baek Mi-ryeo's demonic true qi, but it felt infinitely denser and more profound.
He immediately guessed her identity.
The Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance.
Perhaps sensing the boy's piercing gaze, the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance smiled and stepped out from the thicket. With her sharp eyes and slender jawline, her face bore a striking resemblance to Baek Mi-ryeo.
"So you're the one who tore my alliance's children to shreds. Your martial fame seems poised to pierce the very heavens of Sichuan."
The pressure pressing against his skin was staggering.
Whoosh!
A colorless gale swept over them, bearing down with a suffocating, physical weight. It was a demonic true qi so absolute it felt capable of crushing the dharma power of his Law-Transcending Halo Qi. It made him question if it was even possible for a human to refine demonic arts to such a terrifying depth.
"Take a strike from me."
A peerless expert, easily comparable to the Blood Flame Cult Leader, unleashed her aura with a casual smile.
"Ugh."
"The... Pure Demon Alliance Leader...!"
Groans escaped from the Diancang disciples walking ahead, as well as several Desolate Fortress martial artists. What kind of footwork was this?
She had merely stood before them, yet behind him, Jeong Yeon-shin could hear the heavy thuds of people collapsing to their knees, forced to bow as if having an audience with an emperor.
I did send a report, but could it be...?
The boy did not look at the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance. Instead, with a rare look of surprise in his eyes, he stared just over her shoulder.
When had she appeared? Had she come to check on the condition of Ma Yeon-jeok, the man she called her friend? Or had she been tracking the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance this entire time, waiting for the perfect moment to step in...?
A presence that dispelled all trivial doubts with a single name came into view.
Suddenly. Unlike a natural disaster, she had arrived exactly on time.
She stood there with peerless elegance. Her devastatingly beautiful features, the very symbol of immortality, caught his eye first. Even in the deep shade of the arborvitae trees, her long, flowing light-green hair was unmistakable. Her deep-green eyes, holding the silent depths of an abyss, seemed to command the entire lush, forested mountain to hold its breath.
"An astonishingly well-tempered body. Your aura is indeed enough to deal with my alliance's Blade-Fist Demon," the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance said with a smile.
But right behind her...
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress stepped lightly forward, her Divine Sword shimmering brilliantly as it caught the sunlight filtering through the canopy.