Chapter 16: Growth (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 16: Growth (2)
Several days passed as Jeong Yeon-shin devoted himself to his training.
Cheong-myeong would occasionally give him a strange look, but since Cheong-myeong was a man of such incredible, free-spirited transcendence, Yeon-shin paid it no mind. The Brightfolk movement technique he was mastering was far too captivating to waste his focus elsewhere.
Lightness skills were all about swift, agile movement. Naturally, they were influenced by one's mastery of the techniques used to maneuver the body. It didn't take long for the inspiration Yeon-shin had gleaned from Cheong-myeong's movements to crystallize into core principles.
Though it was still in a rudimentary stage, with only the basic framework for his True Qi circulation established, the creator of a martial art is destined to pierce its very essence.
"There is a world of difference between a practitioner who learns a technique and a grandmaster who creates one. Even if both are at the initial stage of mastery, their achievements can never be the same," Baek Mi-ryeo remarked.
While tracking the Blood Flame Cultists and guarding against another intrusion, the members of the Demonlight Wing could feel Jeong Yeon-shin's movements changing by the day. Yeon-shin didn't care who watched him, and they, in turn, never went out of their way to spy on his training. They simply guessed his progress based on a simple principle: when a martial artist learns a high-level technique, their entire presence naturally transforms.
"The talent of a grandmaster… It's undeniable, but I can hardly believe it even seeing it with my own eyes. Even our unit commander chose to focus on his own body protection scripture instead."
Ever since seeing Jeong Yeon-shin from his hammock, Cheong-myeong had taken to sleeping inside the government office.
A month. That was how much time had passed since their encounter with the Blood Flame Cultist, and they had come up with nothing. It wasn't that they couldn't find any trace of the man. On the contrary, the village's cows, horses, pigs, and chickens continued to die off one by one.
It was painfully clear that the Blood Flame Cultist's goal wasn't simple slaughter, but to toy with them and wear down their nerves. Yet, the culprit never approached the cultivated fields, because Cheong-myeong was keeping a sharp eye on them. Cheong-myeong didn't care how many livestock died; he was content to play the role of a threatening scarecrow.
This, of course, led to arguments.
Whenever Baek Mi-ryeo drew up new tracking and patrol routes, Cheong-myeong would simply climb back onto his hammock, claiming he needed to soak up some sunlight. Left to fume, Baek Mi-ryeo took Heonwon Chang and Jeong Yeon-shin with her on patrols, alternating between them.
"That bastard. He's definitely not alone. He has our patrol routes completely figured out. This time, a horse was killed."
The problem was that the government office's stables were located far away, as the local County Magistrate detested the smell. A single horse was of immense value—in a place like Zhenping County, it was more precious than almost any other resource.
Heonwon Chang, who had approached at some point, looked up at the hammock with a sour expression. Having been taught the basic principles of martial arts by Cheong-myeong, he had grown comfortable enough to address him directly.
"How can you be so nonchalant? Are you really a Brightfolk? A horse just died."
"Yesterday, it was a pig," Jeong Yeon-shin said as he walked past.
"We Brightfolk are friends of the forest, not friends of horses and pigs," Cheong-myeong drawled. Now, if it were you who died, that would be a different story, he added silently. "If that happens, I'll make sure to exterminate three generations of that bastard's family."
Jeong Yeon-shin let out a dry chuckle and headed for the wash area. He had heard that most Brightfolk raised in the Desolate Fortress, like Cheong-myeong, were free-spirited and unburdened by convention. They were a far cry from the transcendent immortals the public usually imagined. As a warrior of the Desolate Fortress, Yeon-shin was gradually learning more about the world.
When he returned after washing up, a feast had been prepared. The plump County Magistrate rubbed his palms together, warily reading the room. Yeon-shin thought the man had the face of a treacherous official who would flatter his way to the imperial capital if given the chance. At the same time, he could understand the magistrate’s behavior, considering he had spent the past month watching martial artists practically fly across his fields.
"P-Please, help yourselves," the County Magistrate said with an awkward smile. He had been avoiding them for a while but now seemed to have come to some sort of resolution.
Having little interest in the man, Jeong Yeon-shin sat down with the members of the Demonlight Wing. They discussed how to adjust their patrol perimeter, how many accomplices the culprit might have, and whether they should launch a full-scale search-and-destroy operation into the vast mountain range.
Through these meetings over the past month, Yeon-shin had come to realize something. There were many kinds of battles in the world, and the swift, decisive showdowns favored by masters rarely happened so easily in reality.
After finishing his meal and spending some time training, he went to sleep in his now-familiar bed. The cry of a scops owl, like soft notes from a bamboo flute, filled the peaceful night of his first venture into the martial world.
* * *
The next day, Jeong Yeon-shin set out on his own. He easily obtained permission from both Baek Mi-ryeo and Cheong-myeong. They estimated that the martial prowess of the accomplices—who were clearly too terrified of the Desolate Fortress masters to descend the mountain—must be low. Both masters believed Yeon-shin's chances of victory were very high should he face a Blood Flame Cultist head-on. A coward who was merely fast on his feet would find it difficult to defeat the current Flash Art.
It's strange.
From the perspective of the Jeong Family Manor, the Desolate Fortress had seemed like nothing short of the immortal realm. The feeling of being fully acknowledged by Blue Rank experts sometimes felt incredibly surreal.
Not that it's a bad thing, though.
He couldn't tell if it was due to his rapidly improving movement technique or simply his mood, but his steps felt significantly lighter as he climbed the mountain. Unlike Cheong-myeong, he wasn't in a position to take things easy. While he had focused solely on mastering his movement technique until yesterday, he couldn't continue doing only that. Frustrated with their lack of progress, he planned to climb to the mountain peak to get a bird's-eye view of the entire county.
Treating it as part of his training, he navigated through mountain paths the group had not yet searched.
It was only when the sun began to sink behind the western hills that he discovered a strange hut built before a cave entrance. It looked like a checkpoint or a passage. The group's month-long efforts had finally borne fruit.
So it was a cave. The smoke must have been escaping through another opening. We wondered how they could survive without Fasting Pills, but this is why we couldn't find them.
Without a second thought, he turned to leave. If a situation was unavoidable, he wouldn't hesitate to risk his life. However, he had no intention of creating unnecessary risks when he had a choice. He had entered the Desolate Fortress and sought the fruit of the World Tree for one reason: to stay alive. If he were to die a meaningless death, none of it would matter.
As he walked back down the dirt path, a mix of tension and excitement in his light steps, Jeong Yeon-shin was forced to reverse his decision.
"Who are you?"
He came face-to-face with a red-haired man climbing the path, his teeth sunk into the neck of a young boy's corpse. Aside from his unfamiliar face and shabby attire, his hair was unmistakably blood-red.
The Blood Flame Cult.
It was exactly as he had heard. They stole the life force of children to increase their martial power. Despite being designated a heretical cult by the Empire, their influence had never waned. It was said that the Blood Flame Cult's Blood Art was cultivated through methods so horrific that even the masters of the Desolate Fortress shuddered at the thought.
Confronting the grim reality of the rumors, Jeong Yeon-shin assessed the man's build, posture, and aura.
An accomplice. He's the one who was backing them up.
Slowly, his hand drifted toward the hilt of his sword.
"A brat carrying a sword. A sharp, cutting aura, and the character 'Hwang' embroidered on his white martial uniform…" the man muttered, scanning Jeong Yeon-shin from head to toe before curling his lips into a smirk. "Just as I heard. Looks like I'll be claiming a great achievement thanks to this greenhorn from the Desolate Fortress. I'm not like my brother who fled from the likes of you. Curse your own misfortune—!"
Slash!
A brilliant white light flashed, and the man's head flew from his shoulders.
The child's body fell limply from his grasp. The headless corpse stood upright for a brief moment before collapsing with a thud behind the boy. Jeong Yeon-shin, already positioned beside the body, flicked his sword to clear the blood.
"Let's end this now," he muttered. To speak of misfortune with that level of skill? He didn't know how many more of them there were, but if they were all bastards who couldn't even react to his sword speed, what did it matter? Even if this was his first mission involving the Blood Flame Cult of the Thirteen Heavens, it wasn't something that should have dragged on for a month.
These bastards could not be allowed to live any longer.
Activating his Scripture of Initial Overcoming, he dug into the ground. He closed the child's eyes and buried him, not covering him with too much soil. The victim seemed to be from outside Zhenping County, but Yeon-shin planned to ask the County Magistrate to find the boy's parents once everything was finished.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned back, sword in hand, facing the hut. As he circulated his True Qi, a cool breeze began to wrap around his feet. His steps grew lighter, almost floating, and the grass beneath his feet sprang back up as if freed from his weight. With the Brightfolk's stride, his presence naturally faded, right up until he reached the front of the hut.
Thud!
He stamped his foot, and the peaceful grass was instantly crushed. Tremendous power surged into the Demonlight Formula's Fast Sword style. The Desolate Fortress Sword became a bolt of pure white lightning, tearing the entire hut apart along with the Blood Flame Cultist inside.
Riiip!
"Argh!"
"W-What?!"
Amidst the swirling dust and wooden debris, he saw one man gasping for air, his body severed in half, and another behind him wearing a look of sheer horror. Every single one of them was clutching a corpse. The incidents in Zhenping County were only the tip of the iceberg.
Scripture of Initial Overcoming.
He had no intention of talking. His True Qi, strengthened by spirit elixirs, compounded to multiply his power. The force rushing through the meridians of his body lent a sharp edge to his grass-like movements.
Slash! Crunch!
The Desolate Fortress Sword smashed, stabbed, and sliced, unleashing more than enough force to carry out a slaughter. The vibration of the blade traveled up his arm, echoing the rage that now burned openly in his heart. In the spraying blood, he saw a reflection of the Jeong Family Manor.
"You worship the law of the jungle? Fine."
The bastards collapsed, ending up in the same state as the corpses they had been defiling.
Beyond the torn-open back of the hut, the torch-lit interior of a cave came into view. This was practically a branch of the Blood Flame Cult. As he’d suspected, the cultist in Zhenping County had been nothing but a minor distraction.
Can I handle this alone?
Before entering, he calculated his chances. Boiling rage and survival were two entirely different matters. But perhaps because he had made such a loud entrance, a powerful aura was already stretching out from the depths of the cave. The waves of True Qi rippling through the air were damp, gloomy, and potent.
[Kill him!]
A furious roar echoed out, seeming to strike his very heart. At the same time, footsteps reverberated from all directions.
Two, three… five.
Five lackeys, and one who seemed to be the branch head. He had heard that the branch heads of the Blood Flame Cult were true masters, often called Blood Master Swords. A sword that instructs and guides. However, before he could even estimate if he could face such an opponent, the cultists rushed in.
"How dare you come all the way here!"
"Pay with your blood!"
Among the five red-haired figures was the bastard from Zhenping County. He wore a momentarily startled expression, but then, as if thinking this a golden opportunity, he brandished his blade and charged, seemingly emboldened by his allies.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not retreat. He took another step forward.
Boom!
The vibration from his foot stamping into the stone floor completely drowned out their footsteps. Paying no heed to the flinching cultists, he channeled his Accumulating Grinding Power into the Desolate Fortress Sword. The wind of the Brightfolk wrapped around his body as he spun.
The first person he had ever killed was a Blood Flame Cultist at the Jeong Family Manor, but the strike he unleashed now was on an entirely different level.
Swish!
Amidst the torches dancing in the shockwave, a long silver arc carved through the air. Three bodies were severed along a single sword path. He felt the clean cut transmit through his blade. The Blood Flame Cultists collapsed with the same charging expressions on their faces, as if they hadn't even realized what had happened.
The shock belonged to the two who remained.
The Blood Flame Cultist from Zhenping County hurriedly executed a footwork technique, but Jeong Yeon-shin had already become a leaf in a typhoon, bringing down the second strike of his Accumulating Grinding Power. The sickening squelch of a sword tearing through flesh put an end to the bastard's revenge.
"What in the world…!"
The last man, who had scrambled backward, failed to perceive the fast sword that followed. He collapsed, his chest slashed wide open.
Flicking the blood from his blade, Jeong Yeon-shin stared into the depths of the darkness. What kind of stir would it cause if a newly dispatched White Rank from the Desolate Fortress were to slay a Blood Master Sword? He wasn't particularly curious right now.
Step.
As he walked slowly forward, the clear ring of his sword accompanied his footsteps. The Desolate Fortress Sword hummed, wishing its sole companion good fortune in the battle to come.