Chapter 155: Chivalrous Hero (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 155: Chivalrous Hero (2)
Although they were traveling alongside the Small Sword Empress’s party, the Desolate Fortress’s official envoy consisted of only four people.
Jeong Yeon-shin rode at the vanguard. To his right was the Lazy Flame Dragon, a man wielding tyrannical martial arts, and to his left was Heonwon Chang, serving as his advisor.
Namgung Hwa-shin brought up the rear, suited to the position by his naturally calm disposition and his mastery of a remarkably stable sword style.
"I feel as though my eyes are opened anew every day. It seems the Desolate Fortress values looks just as much as martial talent."
The Small Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok, had tossed those words out when they departed. No one had replied.
Even the Diancang Dance Sword and the Sun-Piercing Sword ignored their sect's eldest martial sister.
Things were still awkward between them and Jeong Yeon-shin’s group. They were merely travel companions, not comrades.
They said another Black Rank would be tailing us. I wonder if it's Senior Ak.
The Martial World Alliance was a tiger's den. That fact remained true regardless of the extraordinary martial prowess of the trio—excluding Heonwon Chang.
In terms of sheer scale, the coalition surpassed even the Desolate Fortress.
Since this was a diplomatic mission, they couldn't mobilize an entire martial unit. However, there was no way the Desolate Fortress's Chief Steward's Office would leave a promising new Unit Commander to fend for himself.
He had been told there would be support following them from a distance.
The Demonlight Wing, however, was excluded. Few of its senior members still had intact bodies.
He had recently appointed Cheong-myeong, who had recovered significantly, to act as the deputy Commander of the Demonlight Wing. The conversation they shared before his departure remained vivid in his mind.
"It feels like just yesterday when I lent you my robe. Anyway, the Demonlight Wing needs reorganization, too. Even if only a few of you are going as envoys for this mission, you might have to pull people from other martial units once you return."
His voice had been tinged with laughter during that private conversation. Jeong Yeon-shin had taken his senior's advice to heart.
"I see the Flash Art lineage is spread across all sorts of martial units. Your popularity is good enough for now; next is your reputation. The name a Unit Commander makes for himself in the Jianghu carries a lot of weight. For those of us who live by the blade, what else is left if you take away our martial arts and our reputation? The name 'Flash Art' needs to grow larger for the other Unit Commanders to truly accept you."
The Brightfolk swordsman, who had been close to him since he first entered the fortress, was innocent yet somewhat cynical.
That meant he didn't pull any punches with his words.
"The people you're up against have been swinging blades as Black Ranks for over a decade—some for multiple decades. Even the Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing is known as the 'Monster of the Malinghe Grand Canyon.' Every single one of them has built their reputation by wielding the martial prowess of the Black Rank realm over a long period. Trust and time have accumulated behind their names."
The Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing was a man who drew a clear line between public and private matters.
He fully acknowledged Jeong Yeon-shin's achievements and martial strength, but he had remained stubbornly opposed to Namgung Hwa-shin's transfer.
That was likely why Cheong-myeong had brought up the value of a name.
"Have you ever met anyone with even a sliver of a name in the Jianghu who didn't recognize our former Unit Commander? The standing of the Desolate Fortress's Unit Commanders in the Jianghu is immense. The incidents they've intervened in and the achievements they've accumulated are countless."
Those words laid bare the reality of the world Jeong Yeon-shin now lived in.
"Normally, it would be hard to catch up, but this mission might narrow the gap significantly. Though, that all depends on how you handle it."
He had said the Sect Founding Ceremony would be a great opportunity.
Since it's a coalition where all sorts of orthodox sects gather, the impact of a single great feat will be doubled...
Swoooosh—
Suddenly, a gust of autumn wind swept past his face.
His thoughts, carried away by that single stream of clear autumn wind, went no further. Jeong Yeon-shin gripped the reins and spurred his fine steed.
The party rode on relentlessly.
Although there was a post station in Hanzhong, their destination, no direct post road connected it to Xiangyang, the site of the Desolate Fortress's main headquarters.
This meant the path unfolding beneath their horses' hooves was far from a straight line.
Three days, four days, five days... they had no choice but to take a significant detour.
Time and time again, they passed by ruined villages.
"This place is ruined, too."
"To think there are so many in need of help..."
"Senior White-Rank, if you hand out silver coins again, you won't have any of your monthly salary left. Shaking off the people who cling to you is a chore in itself."
It was indeed a chaotic age. They lived in a world where famine bred pillaging and food was desperately scarce.
This was a reality Jeong Yeon-shin had never deeply felt in his life. Regardless of his family's strict customs, he had grown up in the Jeong Family Manor, a household of great landowners.
Even after entering the Desolate Fortress, he had never worried about his next meal. The impact of the bad harvest had not yet reached the point of affecting the world's greatest sect.
Food could still be obtained with money; it was just exorbitantly expensive.
Moreover, the Desolate Fortress warriors rarely passed through populated areas while on missions.
Aside from decent inns and government offices, their routes consisted entirely of quiet fields or deep forests.
The same was true for Jeong Yeon-shin. Sleeping under the stars, high-class inns, the Desolate Fortress's Giju Branch, the Sichuan Tang Clan...
The places he had passed through before his Black Rank promotion hadn't shown prominent signs of the bad harvest. This was especially true of Sichuan, an isolated basin.
It was a land fertile enough to be counted among the best in the world. And in Giju alone, hadn't an immense crowd of onlookers gathered to watch Jeong Yeon-shin's fight?
However, the west, which he was visiting for the first time in a long while, was a completely different story.
Rumors swirled that bandits were swarming and that sects everywhere were acting like warlords. The sights Jeong Yeon-shin witnessed from atop his steed confirmed these grim tales.
Those who didn't have a single copper coin to their name, or those who could no longer survive by hunting, resorted to plundering.
He could see with his own eyes that the devastating aftermath of the famine was spreading across the entire world.
It's especially severe here.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly pulled the reins and brought his horse to a stop. The rest of the party lined up behind the boy who served as their leader.
The western edge of Yunyang Prefecture, Huguang Province.
Thick smoke billowed from various parts of a village nestled beside a small lake. Faint sounds of weeping drifted through the air.
It was more devastated than anywhere else they had passed so far—even though Hanzhong, the seat of the Martial World Alliance, was right before their eyes.
A suffocating silence hung heavily in the air. It was the unmistakable aftermath of a pillaging.
"..."
Clop, clop.
Jeong Yeon-shin urged his horse forward once more, walking it slowly toward the entrance of the village.
"I don't know what the Wudang Sect has been doing. They should be the closest of the Nine Sects to this place," the Small Sword Empress said.
Heonwon Chang immediately replied, "It is also a problem that you look to a martial sect first when speaking of public order. I wonder what the government is doing."
Both spoke in tones of deep disapproval. Come to think of it, Heonwon Chang had harbored a strange hatred for the great sects for a long time.
Jeong Yeon-shin hoped that one day he would be able to hear the life story of this older friend. Hopefully, before he himself died.
For a while, only the sound of horse hooves echoed. This continued until they approached a brutally shattered wooden fence.
While no one else opened their mouths, the Lazy Flame Dragon pointed to one side.
"Aren't those the traces of a shockwave? That dented spot over there. They were hit by Murim bastards."
Was he trying to lighten the mood? His tone was somewhat sly.
Having roamed far and wide as the scoundrel young master of the Hwangbo Clan, he seemed to have plenty of experience with such scenes.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. Bandits running rampant in a village so close to the Martial World Alliance and the Wudang Sect...
This was not something that could be pulled off with ordinary martial arts and courage.
Just as they crossed the collapsed fence, a boy came running toward them. He was about Jeong Yeon-shin's age.
He dashed forward with the half-ruined village at his back. Despite his ragged appearance, a firm resolve burned in his eyes.
"Great Hero! You are a warrior of the Desolate Fortress, aren't you?!"
Amidst the grim situation, Jeong Yeon-shin felt a tiny sense of accomplishment. It seemed the character 'Hwang' (荒) engraved on his shoulder had proven its efficacy.
Now, anyone would be able to recognize him even from the front.
Unless he had to change into Ma Jin's clothes again, Heonwon Chang wouldn't have to lift a finger to announce his identity in the future.
Hearing the sound of someone smacking their lips behind him, he felt a faint sense of satisfaction. This is my robe.
"What happened?"
Putting aside his brief thoughts, Jeong Yeon-shin asked gently. It was a starkly different attitude from how he treated people of the Jianghu.
The sharp inhalations of the Diancang disciples and the Lazy Flame Dragon were audible. They seemed slightly surprised.
"...Whether it's his martial arts or his personality, he really is unique," the Lazy Flame Dragon muttered slyly. "If this young master had been born a commoner, I surely would have received the young Unit Commander's care. Born with a short-lived fate and a wiped-out family... how pitiful indeed."
His tone was slightly teasing. It bordered on self-deprecation, yet it still possessed a certain elegance.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't bother to pay him any attention, keeping his gaze on the boy.
As the village boy stared up at the black-robed youth on the horse, raw anger and profound sorrow were clearly visible on his face.
There was no need to ask further. He had lost his home and his kin.
"Tell me about your enemies," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
They had almost arrived at their destination, Hanzhong. Since they had time to spare, shouldn't he, as a Desolate Fortress Unit Commander, listen to a commoner's plea?
Anyone could see this village had been victimized by people of the Jianghu. It was not something he could ignore.
*
The first disciple of the Mount Hua Sect recalled a certain curse word. It was a phrase said to be used by the Namsadang troupe of Haedong.
I've been screwed over.
Yu-hyeon, the Hidden Dragon of Mount Hua, came to this conclusion after deep thought. He had heard that "screwing someone over" meant sabotaging them.
If used in its literal sense, he had been screwed over quite spectacularly.
He had arrived early at the main headquarters of the Martial World Alliance.
Staying cooped up in his assigned quarters had been incredibly tedious.
None of the rising stars his age at the Alliance had caught his eye.
Those who were slightly older had their attention entirely focused on a blind beauty called 'Miss Ye.'
They acted as if they had been possessed by the nine-tailed fox described in the Classic of Mountains and Seas.
The clan bastards are disgusting, and the practitioners of the Nine Sects are so heavy-bottomed they haven't even arrived yet.
He had decided to take a little detour.
He figured it would be better to roam around using his Body Protection Scripture.
To practice Mount Hua's secret Dark Fragrance Drift, he had gone for a stroll, bringing along his martial nephews who were older than him. That was how he had reached the border of Shaanxi.
There, he had found a half-ruined village.
It all began with the desperate appeal of a village boy left entirely alone. He had listened to the tearful accusation.
The boy said they had been plundered by a sect that had established itself on an island in the lake.
"They weren't a sect of Yuanshi Tianzun or the Buddha. They built a manor on the island and came periodically to plunder us. Whenever the pigs, calves, or crops grew, those bastards would come and take them all. If we resisted, they beat us to death..."
"What?"
The highly righteous disciples of the Mount Hua Sect were filled with indignation. Chivalrous spirit surged in their chests.
"Not long ago, they swept away all the remaining food. They said it was to entertain Murim warriors who clad their horses in iron armor..."
"How did you know they were Murim warriors? They could have been soldiers," Yu-hyeon's martial nephew asked.
The village boy answered immediately.
"Because they called themselves the 'heroes of the Deep Martial Alliance' among themselves. Isn't the Deep Martial Alliance part of the Thirteen Heavens?"
"...It's a great sect based in Henan, so why are they at the edge of Huguang?"
From then on, the Mount Hua disciples discussed the matter among themselves.
"Since it's edge to edge, the distance is indeed close."
"Even so, it is highly suspicious. What kind of audacity is this? The Martial World Alliance, which is holding its foundation ceremony, is not far from here."
Regardless of their unease, Yu-hyeon's party crossed over to the island in the lake. The devastation of the village was terrible enough to demand action.
A true chivalrous hero of the Jianghu was one who avenged the wronged. As disciples of one of the Nine Sects, they couldn't turn a blind eye to such suffering.
The presence of the Deep Martial Alliance, appearing just as the Martial World Alliance held its foundation ceremony, was also a problem.
It seemed to herald an unusual incident. They had to find a clue.
I overvalued my martial prowess, Yu-hyeon reminisced. His hands were bound tightly behind his back.
They were in the training ground of a decently built manor. He was sitting slumped, back-to-back with his three martial nephews.
Sneers were plastered on the faces of the people surrounding them and looking down. There were easily over twenty of them.
Among the crowd, a woman in a navy-blue official robe and a man holding a massive saber stood out.
They were husband and wife.
A fairly strong Murim sect teamed up with the Branch Head and shoved hostages in our faces. How are we supposed to win against that? Political power and martial force, corrupt in tandem.
He hadn't known that the Branch Head of Yunyang Prefecture was involved. Things had become extremely troublesome.
They were not opponents to be taken lightly, yet Yu-hyeon's group had all been captured. It was because these bastards had taken the villagers hostage to threaten them.
"This is truly a dilemma."
The woman wearing an official hat parted her lips. She was the most powerful person in the land of Yunyang.
She was the Branch Head.
From the moment a person refines their martial arts, they begin to break free from physical limitations. The same applied to the innate differences between genders.
It was not rare to find female experts in the heterodox sects who could easily slaughter a hundred grown men. This was because the talent for internal Qigong did not discriminate between male and female.
Most of the lords of the Thirteen Heavens were women, and among the Nine Sects, the Leader of the Emei Sect discussed the affairs of the world as a Buddhist nun.
In an era where the Brightfolk were revered as a clan of immortals, the old practices of the Song Dynasty had crumbled. Brightfolk women had entered government service.
Since the founding of the Ming Dynasty, the former Empress Dowager—who had been directly involved in imperial politics—had overturned the world's concepts as a member of the Brightfolk.
She had permitted women to take the imperial examinations.
The existence of the Brightfolk and martial arts played a huge role in this. The world had undergone a cataclysmic change.
Many young ladies of noble families across the land passed the provincial examinations to become juren, went through the metropolitan examinations, and competed for their rankings in the palace examinations.
The current Grand Scholar of the Hanlin Academy was the sister of the Jegal Clan Leader.
Therefore, the fact that the Branch Head was a woman meant nothing. The only problem was that this particular couple consisted of a heterodox thug and a corrupt official.
"My wife is correct. It is indeed a dilemma. If we hand them over to the Deep Martial Alliance experts who returned, our capture of Mount Hua experts will be exposed... and letting them go like this makes no sense."
The man standing beside her spoke. He was the master of the island and the Leader of the Double Yang Gang.
He was also the culprit who had spearheaded the plundering all this time.
"In the end, silencing them with death is the right choice. Even if pursuers come, my wife can simply deny it. Who would doubt the words of the Branch Head?"
"How many days has it been with you saying the exact same thing?"
Yu-hyeon replied nonchalantly. His habit of looking down on everything due to his extraordinary talent shone through.
"Isn't it just that both of you find it too burdensome to chop off our heads? Frankly speaking, if your wife weren't a high-ranking official, would you have survived my blade? If she were a mere County Magistrate instead of a Branch Head, your head would have already been pickled in the scent of plum blossoms. Do you even know what sword scent is?"
"This bastard doesn't even know his place...!"
"Mount Hua disciple, hold your tongue. I spared you out of consideration for your sect, but your rashness goes too far."
The Branch Head spoke, restraining her furious husband. Yu-hyeon chuckled and lowered his head. It was the absolute demeanor of disregarding a corrupt official.
It was the maximum resistance he could offer right now, but it didn't seem to faze a woman who had navigated the harsh political world to rise to the position of Branch Head.
"Famine does not discriminate between high and low status. However, only when the government and the blade play their proper roles can the commoners live uprightly. It is not that I do not understand your sense of righteousness, but the vessel of one who rules the country is far larger. Do not apply your shallow standards to me," the Branch Head said.
The couple looked down on the commoners with utter contempt. Yu-hyeon did not answer.
Another day passed in this manner.
With his true qi scattered by the Energy-Dispersing Poison, his stomach felt hollow and empty.
Even his Mount Hua Sect robe had lost its nobility. The pitifully shriveled plum blossom pattern bore witness to Yu-hyeon's current plight.
It was at that moment.
Step.
A pair of pitch-black leather boots entered his field of vision, which had been fixed squarely on the ground.
"You've picked up a bad habit. You were even getting beaten up by the Lazy Flame Dragon before," a boy's voice echoed.
"...?"
"It's become a habit of yours to wander around without the elders of your sect. You'll end up dying in a foreign land like that."
The tone was calm and quiet.
"...!"
Yu-hyeon snapped his head up.
A figure he could hardly believe had appeared at this moment came into view.
It was a boy with a single sword at his waist.
The sunlight beat down from behind him, creating a halo of light along the edges of his loosely draped black robe.
On his shoulder, the character 'Hwang' (荒) shimmered with a brilliant golden light.