Chapter 143: Black Rank
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 143: Black Rank
A moment later, the energy barrier surrounding Ma Yeon-jeok's carriage vanished.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress stepped out with an unreadable expression and entered the Elder Council Head's carriage.
Two of the only three Purple Rank experts in the Desolate Fortress were now bedridden, a matter of grave importance for the clan. As it was no ordinary crisis, she, as the leader of the Fortress, was personally checking on their condition.
“The burden on the Lord must be immense.”
“It is not for us to presume.”
Witnessing the affairs of the Fortress's highest echelon up close was a rare occurrence, even for Jeong Yeon-shin's seniors.
They had remained frozen in silence whenever the Lord was present, but the moment she boarded the Elder Council Head's four-horse carriage, they all began to speak at once.
“The two of them will have to focus on recuperating now.”
“Indeed. I can’t even begin to calculate how much of the Fortress's power has been lost.”
“Imagine two sect leaders of the Nine Great Sects washing their hands in a golden basin at the same time. No, even that is hard to picture.”
They were speaking of Ma Yeon-jeok and the Elder Council Head. Washing one's hands in a golden basin was a term for a martial artist's retirement from the Jianghu.
Jeong Yeon-shin scanned his seniors, who were scattered about the area. About fifteen Blue Rank experts were discussing the future of the Fortress, their faces solemn and their tones grim.
Purple Rank.
It was the color that symbolized the Desolate Fortress. It was also the deterrent that kept the wolves of the Jianghu from running rampant.
“How wildly will those jackals run amok now?”
“More than a few local sects will openly try to provoke the Fortress.”
“There are even rumors that contact with the Xinjiang branch has already been cut off. They say a descendant of the Ming Cult who mastered sorcery martial arts is incredibly strong. Apparently, he's a genius unseen in a thousand generations within the sorcerous world.”
“We have to deal with the Martial World Alliance first. I heard it's centered around the noble families, not the Nine Great Sects. It's bound to be rotten to the core even before it officially forms.”
“Excuse me, but the experts of the Diancang Sect are right over there…” Heonwon Chang spoke up cautiously, a reminder that this was not the place to discuss the critical affairs of the Fortress.
The three Diancang Sect experts, who happened to be mentioned, had been gathered among themselves. One by one, they raised their heads.
The Small Sword Empress smiled at Jeong Yeon-shin. It was a somewhat distant smile, perhaps because she had witnessed him remain completely unfazed by the aura of the Pure Demon Alliance Leader.
Now, the premier swordswoman of the Diancang Sect's younger generation made no effort to hide her interest in Jeong Yeon-shin of the Flash Art.
The Small Sword Empress parted her lips. “Our lips are sealed, I assure you. We aren't particularly close with the noble families either. The one I wish to befriend is you, Young Hero Jeong, looking so dashing in that black robe.”
The boy ignored her.
He knew thoughtful individuals like Wiji Myo-hwa of the Zhongnan Sect and Yu-hyeon of the Mount Hua Sect. While the Small Sword Empress's character did not seem malicious, she did not strike him as someone worth wasting his already short lifespan to build a relationship with.
“We've made it safely to Xiangyang, so it's fine,” Oh Wol-hyang, a middle-aged Blue Rank expert, said with a shake of her head.
A faint smile played on the lips of the woman, who looked upon Jeong Yeon-shin and Heonwon Chang as if they were her own sons. She continued, one hand stroking the empty sleeve of her left arm—which she, like Ma Jin, had lost in the City of Master Craftsmen.
“It's already impossible to keep the injuries of the two Purple Ranks a secret. How many martial artists from the Blood Flame Cult, the Tenth Sect, and the Tang Clan were there? And all their family members? That's why we had the Diancang martial artists accompany us—to delay the spread of rumors and ensure our safe return. Isn't that right?”
She asked with a gentle smile, her gaze settling on Jeong Yeon-shin.
The boy silently nodded, leaning his back against a tree just as the Lord of the Desolate Fortress had done. Oh Wol-hyang's smile deepened.
“You conducted yourself wonderfully as the temporary unit commander. We have much to be grateful for. Thank you for guiding us safely until we reached Xiangyang and the Lord arrived. You did a truly splendid job.”
“...”
“Once you officially become a Black Rank, it won't be easy to speak to you so casually, so I am expressing my gratitude now.”
Her words were filled with genuine warmth, and the seniors beside her nodded in agreement.
Soon, an embarrassing flood of compliments began to pour in. They spoke of how the potential of the Fortress's newest Black Rank was peerless, how they had kept an eye on him ever since he entered the Demonlight Wing, and how he had been terrifying when he provoked the Pure Demon Alliance Leader.
“I'm looking forward to your Black Rank promotion. That's a very rare and major event in the Fortress,” Cheong-myeong said, his headband undone as he sat casually perched on a tree branch. Leaning back leisurely amidst the sun-dappled leaves, he did not look like an injured man at all.
The Brightfolk swordsman, who had guided the boy during his days as a White Rank, wore his signature dazzling smile. It was his own way of expressing his pride.
Even among the martial artists of the Fortress, debts of gratitude and grudges were formed. This was their way of acknowledging a debt, of expressing their desire to repay him.
The experts of the Desolate Fortress, who had seemed unimaginably high above him when he was merely the third young master of the Jeong Family Manor, were now looking up to him. Even if it wasn't spoken, it could be felt.
This sentiment was particularly strong among the seniors of the Demonlight Wing, setting them apart from the martial artists of the Flash Art lineage, whose own futures were now uncertain. The seniors of the Demonlight Wing were already preparing to accept a change in command. That was the most important matter of all.
“This is getting embarrassing,” Lazy Flame Dragon muttered, glancing at the expressionless face of their incredibly young temporary commander.
For a moment, Jeong Yeon-shin detected a hint of envy in his voice but didn't comment on it. He knew that exact feeling all too well.
The boy, too, occasionally thought of it: the image of himself dying alone, having exhausted the lifespan granted by heaven, with no one around to mourn him.
Jeong Yeon-shin suppressed the familiar emotion and looked around.
The scene he had built for himself over time came into view: a wide clearing in the forest just outside Xiangyang. The experts of the Fortress were scattered about, some standing on high branches with arms crossed, others sitting leisurely wherever they could find a spot.
“...”
The brief silence that fell was not awkward. The bright summer sunlight filled the surrounding leaves with a brilliant green. Like a landscape painted by a master artist, a swirling wind swept through, a tangible force binding together these experts who were neither common Jianghu martial artists nor government soldiers.
The birth of a new Black Rank unit commander had already taken place before their return—unbeknownst to anyone in the Fortress, and swifter than anything else.
* * *
They arrived in Nanzhang, a city at the gateway to Xiangyang. It was a bustling place, highly prosperous thanks to the Brightfolk county magistrate and the local branch head. Well-paved, loess-colored roads stretched in all directions, and the clamor of commerce echoed between the walls of the clean buildings.
They were traveling with none other than the Lord of the Desolate Fortress herself. Because the local officials were famous for their integrity, the government office's lodgings were small. This was a common phenomenon the closer one got to the Desolate Fortress, so Jeong Yeon-shin relied on the resourcefulness of Red-Day Sword of the Radiant Wing Unit. As a representative of the Flash Art lineage, the middle-aged Blue Rank expert was highly skilled in worldly affairs.
The Dragon Blossom Inn.
They rented an entire five-story pavilion, the kind one might find in the manor of a local magnate, to accommodate the injured Purple Rank experts and the Lord. Tomorrow, they would arrive at the Fortress. The injured from the Demonlight Wing and the Radiant Wing Unit also settled into comfortable beds for the first time in a long while.
“They say they are martial artists descended from the heavens. A heavenly maiden and divine generals are staying here.”
The outside was noisy. Dozens of people had gathered near the entrance.
“I heard they're from the Desolate Fortress. Someone said they saw the character 'Hwang'.”
“Isn't that the same thing?”
They were a group that naturally drew attention. Starting with the Small Sword Empress who, aside from her reputation as an expert capable of discussing swordsmanship with the Sword Dragon of the Zhongnan Sect, possessed extraordinary beauty.
The same went for Jeong Yeon-shin, Lazy Flame Dragon, Namgung Hwa-shin, and of course, Heonwon Chang. Their gallant appearances drew the eyes of the crowd. It would have been even more intense had Cheong-myeong not retreated into his carriage.
“A fairy has descended?”
“Watch your mouth. It is the manifestation of the Jade Emperor himself.”
“The Guardian has stepped forward. The Lord of the Desolate Fortress, that is.”
Peerless beauty drew as many eyes as any ultimate martial arts technique. When combined with their unique status and power, it created a rare spectacle. The crowd only kept its distance out of awe and fear, not daring to cause a disturbance.
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin stood facing the Lord of the Desolate Fortress in a quiet courtyard between the main building and the annex of the inn.
“Relax your body and mind. For this moment, lift yourself out of this bustling world.”
The Lord's clear voice drifted over like a gentle breeze, seeming to softly wrap around the boy's sharp senses. He had been using his Law-Transcending Halo Qi to scan the crowd gathered in front of the inn. Her words slightly eased his tense aura.
'There doesn't seem to be anyone suspicious,' Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
Vigilance was ingrained in him, naturally honed after encountering an exceptional number of top-tier experts on his journey to Sichuan. He was always like a drawn sword.
“It will not ease so easily.” The Lord of the Desolate Fortress, quietly observing the boy, shook her head slightly. Her long hair, cascading down her jawline, swayed and caught the light with a greenish tint. “It is a difficult task. Such is your temperament.”
“I apologize.”
“It is fine.” The corners of her mouth curved up slightly. “It is because your goal lies far away. By nature, your temperament is one that will soften the stronger you become, so today's lesson should be of some help.”
Whenever he had a private audience with the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, his mind would grow strangely hazy. It was the same now. Her dark green eyes, which felt as though they were stripping him bare, were overwhelming. She was a peerless expert said to see through one's inner self. Even before considering her martial arts, she exuded a kind of transcendence befitting the supreme leader of her clan.
Jeong Yeon-shin spun the halo in his heart. The wheel of light rotated within him, circulating his internal power. The Dharma power of the Law-Transcending Halo Qi seeped into his heart and mind, and the boy barely managed to refocus his eyes.
After regaining his composure with two deep breaths, he saw the corners of her mouth lift a fraction more.
'I hope I didn't make a fool of myself,' Jeong Yeon-shin worried needlessly.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress spoke. “You polished your vessel at the Jeong Family Manor, and you breathed with the divine art in Sichuan. You have now begun to fill it with water.”
“The advice you sent was of great help, Lord.” The boy recalled the note the Grand Steward had delivered to him just before he set out. The Lord's handwriting was still vividly engraved in his mind.
She chuckled softly. “Now you must master that breathing. Are you ready to receive a new sword art?”
“Are you imparting the Heart Sword to me?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked in return.
After a brief silence, she parted her lips. “I know what you are thinking. You must have thought of Heart-Killing Intent.”
The absolute technique of raising a sword with one's mind to slay an opponent—a legendary realm, existing only in rumors.
“Then…?”
“What I wish to teach you is different. It is more accurate to call it a sword art that trifles with the senses. It is not a technique that cuts the mind. I created it recently, so you are its first successor.”
“Trifling with the senses…” Jeong Yeon-shin muttered quietly.
Her jade-like eyes gazed steadily at him. As always, there was little change in her expression. She seemed to be asking if he was disappointed.
But Jeong Yeon-shin was not. He had witnessed the strike that shattered the Void Treading of the Pure Demon Alliance Leader. It was a peerless sword move.
“What is its ultimate truth? I felt absolutely nothing at that time,” the boy asked boldly.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress nodded slowly. “It is a feint. A technique that carves a sword strike into your enemy's mind with searing intensity.”
“How so?”
“You must become the absolute master of your own aura and sword wind.”
Such was her teaching. It did not end with words that were difficult to comprehend.
“Come here,” she said.
They were already within two paces of each other. As the boy hesitated for a brief moment, a soft rustle sounded. The light green silk shoes on the Lord's feet brushed against the ground.
The peerless expert, spoken of as the greatest under heaven, drew closer.
The second lesson had begun.