Chapter 168: Manifestation (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 168: Manifestation (4)
They ran for an entire day.
Rather than riding fine steeds, they traveled using lightness skills. The mission to eliminate the Deep Martial Alliance was not a matter to be taken lightly.
They had to risk their lives to approach while concealing their presence.
Namgung Hwa-shin had been left behind at the main headquarters. This was a contingency plan, prepared in case any unforeseen mishaps befell Jeong Yeon-shin.
At least one envoy from the Desolate Fortress needed to remain within the Martial World Alliance.
If anyone were to temporarily act in the stead of a Black Rank Expert, it could only be a Blue Rank. Namgung Hwa-shin's rank was directly below Jeong Yeon-shin's, and he was also his most reliable companion.
He will surely keep a close eye on the internal affairs of the Alliance as well.
The boy held the White Qilin's martial prowess, adaptability, character, and reputation in the highest regard.
The Deep Martial Alliance was a formidable enemy. They were experts of a great sect, and victory against them could not be easily guaranteed.
They had no choice but to assume the worst—that their party might be wiped out or delayed. That was why Namgung Hwa-shin had stayed behind.
"Can't we just not go? Clashing with the Thirteen Heavens is no ordinary matter," the Lazy Flame Dragon said, patting his chest. He had slipped up beside Jeong Yeon-shin before anyone noticed.
A bundle of poppies he had hastily bought two days ago was tucked inside his shirt. Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.
He suddenly felt the void left by Namgung Hwa-shin's absence. He had been such a reassuring presence.
"To avoid humiliation, I must experience it firsthand. Unless it is a sword art forged and polished in real combat, I cannot withstand his sword moves. At this rate, the prestige of the Desolate Fortress's Black Ranks will fall," the boy said.
The Lazy Flame Dragon bit down on a poppy stem. "Is it a disgrace to lose to the Sword Saint? It's not like he's some mediocre expert."
"It is the same even if the opponent is the Alliance Leader. If I show myself being helplessly defeated... that in itself is a failure of the mission. It would look as though we came to save face, only to end up receiving a lesson instead."
"The Alliance, wary of our Unit Commander, came up with a trick. This way, they can save their own face even after giving up the Sect Founding Ceremony."
It was Heonwon Chang, standing with his back straight.
True to his status as a hostage, he let his mouth run while needlessly glaring at the Martial World Alliance warriors walking ahead, all while lightly gripping the fabric of Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder with one hand.
He was talking big while using the young Unit Commander as a shield. The boy shook his arm free without a word.
The Lazy Flame Dragon curled his lips into a smirk. "Indeed, refusing a 'lesson' would also look strange. The Sword Saint offering to teach a move to the expert who dominated the Sect Founding Ceremony..."
"With the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style, I cannot withstand even a single strike from the Sword Saint. It is a sword art whose flow was broken even by the strikes of the Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit."
"I suppose the Infinite Flower of Time Hand would be difficult too? Even if it's something like Brilliant River," the Lazy Flame Dragon asked.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at him blankly for a moment.
This fellow, who was listless about everything else, seemed to have thoroughly figured out his sect-exclusive martial arts. Though he had babbled about martial talent upon their first meeting, he was exceptionally sharp when it came to martial arts.
The boy nodded slowly. "The distance is the problem. The moment I close in with fist and palm techniques, my arm will be severed. My Body Protection Astral Qi cannot withstand the Sword Saint's strikes."
"In the end, it seems you really must employ finesse with a sword. The Hwangbo Clan also has a fairly decent sword technique... a martial art called the Nanhua Sword Command Style. After my great-grandfather achieved great completion in it, he was praised as Shandong's greatest swordsman of the decade. There is a famous anecdote where the spears of over a dozen Ak Clan experts were scattered and forced to retreat by his single sword."
"What utter nonsense!" a clear, resonant voice cut in. "The reality was different! It was a shameless display of force against rising stars! As the Young Master, there's no way you didn't know that!"
It was Ak Ye-rim, elegantly dressed in pure white martial robes. A long spear was slung across her back.
Her long, braided hair and the shaft of her spear swayed with every step she took. The Ak Family Spear Technique she had mastered was the martial art of the Shandong Ak Clan.
The Ak Clan.
They had once vied for fame with the Lazy Flame Dragon's family, which was also based in Jinan, Shandong Province. Until three of the Desolate Fortress's martial units swept through the lands of Jinan, the Ak Clan had been at a disadvantage. However, they had benefited greatly from the destruction of the Hwangbo Clan.
The Shandong Ak Clan was originally counted among the Eight Great Families only north of the Yangtze River, but with the inauguration of the Alliance, they had traveled to the lands of Hanzhong to gain the recognition of the world.
The current Ak Clan was in desperate need of even a single expert. This was because the eldest sister of the Ak Clan Head, the Divine Spear Ak Su-rim, had thrown her lot in with the Desolate Fortress.
A massive drain on their strength had occurred decades ago. The anecdote of Ak Su-rim, who cast aside her right of succession to the clan headship for personal reasons, was highly famous.
The Lazy Flame Dragon chuckled. "And did you act that way because you know what shame is? From what I saw, you were quite a spectacle."
"What?"
"Our Unit Commander is nearly ten years younger than you, yet you tried to hold him accountable for a fair duel at the banquet hall. It was a transparent trick. Everyone knows how much you adored Se-jin. If I ever dreamed of acting in such a pathetic manner, I would have bitten my tongue and killed myself the moment I woke up."
"You...!"
Ak Ye-rim glared fiercely, but suddenly shut her mouth. Her gaze shifted. A complex mix of emotions filled her eyes as she glanced back slightly at Jeong Yeon-shin.
He had spoken of such a sensitive matter without a filter in front of numerous young martial artists. At that time, in that place, she had not expected the boy to defend the Azure Qilin. No one would have.
His words—that they would remain equals even if he became a Purple Rank—had been a hot topic among them for some time.
Was he being sincere?
That alone did not make Ak Ye-rim's resentment fade. She was not inhumanly fair and just like the White Qilin. Nor was she an eccentric like her eldest aunt, Ak Su-rim, who abandoned her own family for the sake of the common people.
Though she was a noble martial aristocrat, she still belonged to the realm of ordinary humans.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, and the White Qilin.
She was confused. Unlike Namgung Mi, Namgung Se-jin had been a good older brother to the White Qilin. What could be the reason he walked the Jianghu alongside the one who killed his own brother?
She did not think of the Desolate Fortress as a sect of chivalrous heroes. She viewed it as the military of the martial world. After all, wasn't there ultimately only one reason why the Desolate Fortress protected the common people?
To stabilize the tribute flowing into the imperial family.
Ak Ye-rim had originally intended to meet with the White Qilin in private. She wanted to look him in the eye and ask: Is the Commander of the Demonlight Wing and the Desolate Fortress any different from your own family? Do you truly believe they are a sect that pursues nothing but spotless righteousness?
She really would have done so, had the Desolate Fortress warriors not suddenly burst in and presented the Alliance Leader's order.
"So, where is our destination?" she asked. It was not a question directed at the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
To speak to a Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress, she would have to use honorifics, so Ak Ye-rim chose to ask the Hwangbo Young Master instead.
But the Lazy Flame Dragon was feeling mischievous. He kept his mouth shut and did not answer. He had thoroughly seen through the cheeky Ak Clan warrior's mind. He quietly watched the two boys conversing.
An upstart from the Gongson Clan had approached the young Unit Commander.
"My fiancée is very interested in you. So am I. Actually, we were there at Clear Night Valley before. When the Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Clan had their duel," the boy said, his eyes flashing with a sharp light. He was of a similar height to Jeong Yeon-shin.
Gongson Min.
He was the Young Master of the Gongson Clan, one of the Eight Great Families. Perhaps he enjoyed wandering here and there under the protection of his Body Protection Scripture. He possessed a vibrant, lively energy. His somewhat soiled white silk martial robes suited him strangely well.
"Clear Night Valley?" Jeong Yeon-shin asked. He recalled that a massive crowd of onlookers had surrounded the valley. Many had gathered, regardless of whether they were martial artists or commoners.
Gongson Min nodded vigorously. "Yes. It was a huge incident, after all. To be honest, we went to see the martial arts of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps and the Namgung Clan Head rather than yours... but aside from their profound mastery, the life-and-death duel between you and the Azure Qilin was incredibly impressive."
"What..."
"It was a life-and-death duel with so much to learn from. Even though the flow of exchanges was continuous and unbroken, the clash of techniques was unbelievably precise. And the sight of you wrapping the shockwave of the Azure Qilin's sword strike around your hand to conversely boost your palm technique was terrifying!"
He did not hide his admiration. His feelings were plain on his face. It was an attitude Jeong Yeon-shin had never encountered within the Martial World Alliance until now.
They said over a hundred sects had joined the Alliance, and indeed, there seemed to be all kinds of people.
"It was nothing..." Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head away, trying not to let his awkwardness show.
It was time to be on guard. Before they knew it, the party had entered a village. Shards of a wooden fence, splintered like kindling, crunched beneath their feet with every step.
Smoke was rising from among the private houses. It was as desolate as if bundles of incense had been burned to mourn the deceased.
There are no survivors.
The chilling wind that swept through testified to a massacre. Even the last vestige of vitality that had remained in the village seemed to have been buried alongside the crudely made graves.
It was as if they had stepped into a different realm. The stench of rotting corpses was overwhelming.
It was a sight all too familiar to martial artists who had lived through lean years. Those with power plundered food and held the weak by the throat.
This was an eternal, unchanging truth. It was common for people to wield the martial arts they had learned to carve out a living for themselves.
The Deep Martial Alliance was no different.
If they committed such acts in Henan, where their sect was located, they would offend the Feudatory King who sponsored them. So they had come to Shaanxi. They plundered outside their territory to eat, drink, and practice their martial arts.
If they could even deal a blow to the alliance of the Orthodox Factions, it would be the icing on the cake.
So it was written in the letter given by the Sword Saint. Jeong Yeon-shin found it plausible.
"There are many burial mounds here and there. Who could have made them?"
"Probably a chivalrous hero passing through the village, or perhaps a survivor."
This was the conversation between the Lazy Flame Dragon and Heonwon Chang.
The boy spoke slowly. "We will trace the path of the Deep Martial Alliance. We will hunt down and kill every single one we see, and take the head of the martial unit leader who led the plundering. According to the document I received from the Sword Saint, she is an elder of the Deep Martial Alliance. They call her the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, Baek Seo-gun."
Draped in his black robe, he spoke as the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
Moyong Myeong-jun, who had been following silently as if lost in thought, immediately raised his head.
"The Yeongcheon Sword Ghost? Is that the person I think it is?"
Dressed more like a noble young master than anyone else present, he betrayed his anxiety. In contrast to his bright pink martial robes, a shadow fell over his face.
"Rumors abound that she wields Sword Kinesis. They say the sword of the Deep Martial Alliance's Sword Ghost swims through the sky. Some time ago, at the sixtieth birthday banquet of the Feudatory King of Henan Province, she was seen fending off the powerful arrows of a hundred archers with a single sword. Upon seeing that, the Feudatory King bestowed upon her the moniker of 'Sword Ghost.' It was said to be beyond the realm of mortals," Moyong Myeong-jun said, keeping his eyes on Jeong Yeon-shin.
Unlike Ak Ye-rim, he maintained proper etiquette and did not avoid the boy's gaze, though he gave off the impression of hiding his true intentions beneath his polite demeanor.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply.
"I've heard of her too. They say no swordsman of the Shaolin Lay Sect could withstand the Sword Ghost's flying sword. Since the main headquarters of the Deep Martial Alliance is in Henan, the experts of the neighboring Mount Hua Sect or Zhongnan Sect would probably know better. The eye techniques of mediocre, small-to-mid-sized sects can't be trusted..." Gongson Min trailed off.
Aside from Mount Hua and Diancang, none of the Nine Sects had attended the Martial World Alliance. They sorely lacked advice.
This was a mission to slay an elder of the Thirteen Heavens who commanded a martial arts army. No matter how one looked at it, their forces were insufficient.
With so many sects making up the Alliance, how could they come up with such a lineup? Gongson Min thought. It seemed highly likely that the leaders of the Alliance had colluded to plot the death of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
"I know," the boy said. His voice was calm.
The Lazy Flame Dragon smiled faintly, seemingly satisfied with Jeong Yeon-shin's brief reply. "Indeed. There is no need to worry about a flying sword. Even if it is true Sword Control. Young Gongson, if a swordsman is renowned throughout the Central Plains, they are bound to be far more terrifying when holding the sword in their own hand. After all, the circulation of internal power is strongest when the hilt and the palm are in direct contact—unless there is some special mnemonic."
"And if it is a flying sword operated by a specific mnemonic, it can hardly be called the legendary Sword Kinesis anyway. Let us leave the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost entirely to our Unit Commander," Heonwon Chang said, nodding in agreement.
By then, a single question had surfaced in the minds of the Martial World Alliance warriors.
Jegal Hyeon, Gongson Min, Moyong Myeong-jun, and even the Small Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok, briefly looked at the young Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress.
Ak Ye-rim stared at him so intently she seemed ready to pierce him with her gaze, as if determined to capture every single detail, whether flaw or strength, with her own eyes.
Each harbored different thoughts. Yet, they shared a common interest. Just one.
How strong is the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing?
They were the experts who would lead the Alliance in the future. As individuals destined to contend with the young Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress for the rest of their lives, the act of probing was not one-sided.
The young warriors representing the Orthodox Factions had to observe the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's every move.
What his character was like.
Under what circumstances his martial arts unleashed their greatest power.
And conversely, whether he had any distinct weaknesses.
Their gazes are like awls.
Jeong Yeon-shin was well aware of this. His playful exchange with Jegal Hyeon's fan would not have been enough to give them a real sense of his strength.
He recalled his original mission. It was what Ak Su-rim had told him. He was to throw cold water on the soaring momentum of the Martial World Alliance, which was rising with its inauguration.
The boy had not forgotten his primary duty.
"Come out," he spoke suddenly.
Within the sensory range of his Law-Transcending Halo Qi, the internal energy signatures of the Heterodox Sects were clearly caught.
The Deep Martial Alliance crowd that had swept through the village had not left behind a single grain of rice. Instead, they had stationed troops here. It was a small number.
Beneath the bushes thirty feet away, behind the roofs of the houses that had not collapsed—these were the minor ones. Boldly, there was even one who stood on a single foot atop the watchtower, looking down at them.
Jeong Yeon-shin raised his head. His eyes met those of the man on the watchtower.
It was a man dressed in yellow robes, standing with his legs and back straight. The bastard merely smirked.
He seemed to possess quite formidable martial arts. His motionless posture alone was enough to guess the depth of his Body Protection Scripture.
Were they tasked with cutting off pursuers?
The boy said no more. He lightly extended his left hand downward. It was aimed toward the hilt of the sword hanging at Moyong Myeong-jun's waist across from him.
He circulated different mnemonics through the two acupoints in the center of his palm. Suction and release. The principles of drawing in and expelling intersected in an instant.
Suddenly, Moyong Myeong-jun's sword unsheathed itself.
The eyes of Gongson Min and Moyong Myeong-jun, as well as the Deep Martial Alliance expert on the watchtower and the other warriors, widened.
The soft, metallic ring of the sword unsheathing brought a silent shock.
The strike of a supreme master was executed instantaneously.
The young Commander of the Demonlight Wing flicked his sleeve once. For a split second, a faint brilliance flickered along the blade. His pitch-black robes billowed grandly, and the single sword that soared up with a sharp whistle transformed into a chilling beam of light.
A pure white sword light shot toward the sky.
Thwack!
The back of the man standing on the watchtower bent double. His body was violently thrown backward, along with the sword that had pierced through his abdomen.