Chapter 173: The Sword of Autumn
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 173: The Sword of Autumn
A pure white afterimage flashed past. The wind, which had raged as if summoning a typhoon, instantly dispersed.
There wasn't even a scream. Only a deeper silence settled over the area.
Thirty-nine more corpses now littered the clearing on West Peak Road, their blood staining the undergrowth a dark crimson and filling the air with a metallic stench.
It was a sight that was hard to accept as reality. In life, these men had been elite experts, leaders of the Deep Martial Alliance’s army.
“……”
A chilling silence descended.
Every single one of them had fallen to a single strike. The only wound on each corpse was a clean, straight line.
A swift, decisive battle was usually a tactic for the disadvantaged, a desperate move against a superior foe. Yet, judging by the outcome, it looked as if a peerless, unhurried swordsman had simply been toying with them.
By the standards of the Desolate Fortress, this group would have been a mix of Blue and White Ranks.
Slick.
Standing tall in the center of the carnage, the young swordsman slowly sheathed his sword, the rustle of his pitch-black sleeves the only sound.
A Black-Ranked Warrior of the Desolate Fortress. He was the sole peak expert here. The young Commander of the Demonlight Wing presided over the bleak atmosphere.
Jegal Hyeon and Ak Ye-rim were lost for words.
‘Was that a shockwave extending from his sword just now? Its trajectory was incredibly bizarre. Unless one can manifest their mental image into a sword path, how could such a technique exist under heaven…?’
‘What was that? What in the world was that?’
It was truly astonishing, even for them, whose horizons had been broadened by every sword art imaginable within the Martial World Alliance.
It didn't feel like the swordplay of a human. It felt as though some bizarre power, like the innate abilities of the Brightfolk clans, had been infused into it.
A sword art that reached the realm of a supernatural ability was unique under heaven—at least, as far as the two of them knew.
The Imperial Sword Form of the Namgung Clan.
It was a sword technique that boasted the majesty of a one-man army through its powerful sword-wave attacks. It was said that not even the Brightfolk swordsmen, who could freely manipulate the wind, could escape the domain of the Emperor.
This wasn't just true for the Namgung Clan Head or 'Namgung's First Sword'. The Imperial Sword Form mastered by the Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin, was also hailed as an absolute masterpiece among the younger generation.
A sword unique under heaven. A sword art that made a swordsman seem more than human.
But not anymore. It was no longer the only one.
A profound mystery had blossomed from the high guard stance the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had taken. Even with his family's secret eye technique, Jegal Hyeon couldn't analyze thirty percent of it.
He didn't even feel like trying. It was as if he had just witnessed the legacy of Namgung Se-jin reborn.
‘The Commander of the Demonlight Wing has succeeded the Azure Qilin, yet has also broken free from his shadow.’
He had established himself as an immortal rival. From this day forward, Namgung Se-jin's legend would only continue to grow.
Snap.
Flicking his fan open, Jegal Hyeon stared blankly at Jeong Yeon-shin.
Was he organizing his insights? The boy stood with his head bowed, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword. At his feet, a middle-aged man wearing black hand-guards lay sprawled out, a look of sheer shock frozen on his face.
Until the moment of his death, he had failed to comprehend the sword technique. He seemed to have realized only one thing: that he was absurdly weak. And then, he was gone.
“Now, I have woven the first form.”
The boy opened his eyes and murmured quietly.
He hadn't needed to say it aloud. The sheer spiritual energy overflowing within him had compelled him to speak the words.
For a moment, Jegal Hyeon doubted his own ears.
‘Woven?’
If he meant he had created a sword form on the spot, that was a feat bordering on the divine. It made no sense unless he was the reincarnation of Bodhidharma or Zhang Sanfeng. The thought even crossed his mind that the boy might be the incarnation of the First Leader of the Myeong Cult, returned from the cycle of reincarnation.
Ak Ye-rim also wore an expression of disbelief.
The boy paid no heed to their reactions.
Thump!
He kicked off the ground. A wave of energy spread out with a dull vibration. It was a sudden sprint using his lightness skills. Jegal Hyeon and Ak Ye-rim hurriedly followed.
“Do you believe the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost has headed toward Seven Crowds Gorge?” Jegal Hyeon asked.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded without turning his head. “The one with the hand-guards was quite strong. Strong enough for an elder of the Deep Martial Alliance to entrust him with guarding the rear.”
“Considering he hasn't shown himself even now, indeed…”
Jegal Hyeon's expression darkened. He couldn't help but worry about Moyong Myeong-jun and Gongson Min. Gongson Min, in particular, was a young noble cherished by most of the Alliance's warriors. He was bright and kind by nature, loved by all.
The prospect of Gongson Min being killed was deeply concerning, and the subsequent political fallout for the Alliance Leader was an even greater issue. Jegal Hyeon disliked his own father; the Clan Head's cold-hearted devotion to the greater good had cast a long shadow over his childhood.
The only one who could keep the Jegal Clan Head—a man of ambitious and formidable character—in check was the Sword Saint. But if this operation failed, the Sword Saint might have to bear a heavy burden of blame for ordering it.
He could only pray for heaven's favor.
“We have to trust the Lazy Flame Dragon,” the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing muttered.
Jegal Hyeon nodded. Before Flash Art had made his appearance, the Lazy Flame Dragon was one of the few who vied for the title of the strongest of the younger generation, alongside the Azure Qilin. They had no choice but to trust his vast reserves of Qi, which originated from his Solar Divine Pulse, and his sharp senses.
‘I told them repeatedly to avoid engagement. If they approached cautiously from the outskirts, they wouldn't have clashed,’ the boy thought.
Whoosh!
He dashed forward like a gale, enduring the pain spreading through his internal organs. It was centered in his lower Dantian and around his heart—the same kind of internal injury the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps had suffered after suppressing the Namgung Clan Head. He had overexerted himself with a sword technique he was not yet accustomed to.
He had sought to end the battle quickly. The reason he had closed his eyes after the fight was to suppress and manage his internal injuries.
The expert with the hand-guards he had slain was likely the chief disciple of the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost. As he fought, he had deduced the Sword Ghost's movements. He had to bring this decisive battle to a swift conclusion. Thinking of his companions, he had no other choice.
He trusted the Lazy Flame Dragon's senses. However, the subordinates of the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost he had just faced were strong beyond imagination. While they might not be on par with Heonwon Chang, who was said to have hidden seventy percent of his true strength, the thirty experts he had fought at the end were of a completely different caliber.
If Seven Crowds Gorge was the same, there was no telling what might happen. It wouldn't be surprising if they were already facing the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost.
‘If the Small Sword Empress can display as much skill as the Great Hero Sword Dragon, they can escape.’
Perhaps he thought of them together because they were both female chief disciples who possessed peerless swordsmanship. He was reminded of Wiji Myo-hwa of the Zhongnan Sect, who, unlike those from Mount Hua and Diancang, had not come to the Alliance.
Perhaps she was out there somewhere, performing deeds of chivalry, he thought. If only there were more people in the Jianghu with a kind heart like hers, even the years of famine would have been more bearable.
Boom!
He accelerated, the sensation of stone and soil crushing under his leather shoes pushing back with intense force. Streams of rotating energy from his halo emanated from beneath his feet.
His two companions gradually fell behind. The disparity in their martial arts was now clear.
‘No!’
Ak Ye-rim bit her lip, recalling a letter she had received from her aunt.
Ak Su-rim, the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress. She had been dumbfounded when her aunt spoke of a boy not yet twenty as her "young husband."
But seeing the Commander of the Demonlight Wing today, she understood. He fully possessed the caliber of a Black Rank. Considering Ak Su-rim's eccentric personality, she might have been entirely serious.
‘I need to observe his character more…’
She had just witnessed a sword technique that reminded her of her deceased lover, a single strike that seemed to honor the soul of the Azure Qilin. She even recalled the Commander's words—that even if she became a Purple Rank one day, he would treat her as an equal.
She wanted to see more. She had to see more.
Flutter!
However, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing pressed on, his black robes a blur. His speed was impossible to match. All she could feel was the wind rushing past his dark hem. A look of dismay washed over Ak Ye-rim's face.
At this moment, she could neither call out to him nor catch up. The boy's retreating figure grew distant, indifferent.
‘At the Sect Founding Ceremony, I will definitely…!’
Ak Ye-rim’s eyelashes lowered, veiling her eyes. Unable to follow him now, she promised herself a future meeting.
Thud!
Jeong Yeon-shin, paying her no heed, channeled strength into the Yongquan Point on the soles of his feet. Though he felt he owed Jegal Hyeon for the enlightenment, he did not look back.
“The alias for the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost varies by region and sect! In the Deep Martial Alliance and the Henan region, she is also called the Sword Venerable! The flow of her sword path is bound to be more experienced than yours, Commander! It would be best to trust your senses over your experience!”
The belated shout of Seon-ryong Jegal Hyeon echoed from behind.
Two days passed like that.
He ran alone for two days and nights, a level of stamina that surprised even himself. The endurance provided by his Law-Transcending Halo Qi was immense, harmonizing perfectly with the body he had tempered through the Jeong Family Dynamic Art. He could clearly feel his body racing toward completion as he grew.
The boy reached a cliff winding along a massive stone wall. He stood on the side of a low hill as a fierce wind whipped around him. His hair, grown long for the visual pleasure of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, fluttered along with his black robe.
His vision opened up. Twilight was falling over the endlessly winding canyon below. The rays of the red dusk felt exceptionally cold.
‘This is it.’
The boy stared blankly ahead. Fortifications like the ones he had seen on West Peak Road were erected on every peak. The place was heavily guarded.
They had even raised flags like a formal army. How had they remained safe when a mere Feudatory King was providing support that bordered on treason? It wouldn't be strange if the Imperial Family declared them rebels.
It was said that once one reached the Black Rank, it was difficult to remain free from political matters. He would have to be careful. It was a problem worth pondering.
‘Not right now.’
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't hesitate. He took a step and climbed a nearby peak, arriving at the lowest fortification, which served as the entrance to Seven Crowds Gorge.
The wind crashing through the canyon shook five barracks. To one side, a massive stone wall towered over them.
He was discovered immediately. He had made no effort to hide.
“An intruder. What's a brat doing here?”
“You idiot! Can't you see the character for 'Hwang' on his robes?”
“Is that a Desolate Fortress Commander…?”
“The Commander of the Demonlight Wing! It's Flash Art, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing!”
Whoosh!
In an instant, about fifteen warriors of the Deep Martial Alliance, armed with spears and swords, revealed themselves. Each one landed on the stone ground using swift Body Protection Scriptures, their synchronized movements generating a powerful headwind that made the hem of Jeong Yeon-shin's robe flutter violently.
“The reinforcements have arrived early. While the Sword Venerable is still enjoying herself.”
“Reinforcements is a fitting term. A Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress is a one-man army. Doesn't that mean he alone possesses a force equal to ours?”
The martial artists, clad in leather armor, spoke with strangely relaxed expressions. Though they were soldiers of the Deep Martial Alliance, they were fundamentally martial artists who practiced their arts, and they carried themselves with a certain dignity.
“Hide yourself, young Black Rank. We fear your martial arts for now, so we are willing to let you go.”
“The Sword Venerable is a truly terrifying peak expert. For a novice Commander like you, it would be difficult to withstand a prolonged exchange.”
“No matter how high the walls of the Desolate Fortress are, they cannot match the spirit of our Alliance. This fortification encompassing the cliffs of Seven Crowds Gorge will soon…”
It happened in an instant.
The black-robed figure closed a distance of three Zhang in a single moment. Jeong Yeon-shin grabbed one of the soldiers by the face. It was the one who had been babbling nonsense to buy time. He hadn't even perceived the speed of the Wind God Movement Technique.
“……!”
Shock rippled through the onlookers.
A colossal force surged from the palm covering the soldier's face, and a section of the peak shook violently. A low, rumbling hum accompanied it, the strong canyon wind resonating with the shockwave of his palm technique. The swirling force ruthlessly tore apart their advice to hide.
Rumble!
They had said the Sword Venerable was enjoying herself. That meant she was pressuring his companions.
Even a single breath was too precious to waste.
Thud!
He kicked off the ground, still holding the man's face. Wind rushed past his cheek as he slammed the soldier's head into the side of the stone wall.
A heavy vibration echoed down to his feet as an overwhelming power erupted from his right hand. Finally, terror flickered across the soldier's face.
“Wait, reconsider—!”
He didn't listen. He fully channeled the mnemonic of the Brilliant River. The Blood Art and Dharma Power infused within his Law-Transcending Halo Qi instantly surged to their peak.
Jeong Yeon-shin unleashed the power in the center of his palm.
Blue veins writhed on the back of his hand. An irresistible force erupted like a thunderbolt.
BOOM!
Along with the deafening roar, an entire section of the canyon shook. Cracks raced up the steadfast cliff face. The immense explosive force turned into an echo, spreading in all directions.
This was how the Commander of the Demonlight Wing announced his arrival to the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost.