Chapter 175: The Sword of Autumn (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 175: The Sword of Autumn (3)
The newly appointed Commander of the Demonlight Wing mocked the Sword Venerable of Henan Province. Both were figures of sufficient standing to represent their respective sects.
And these were no ordinary sects. One was the Desolate Fortress, the other the Deep Martial Alliance. A clash between two such supreme experts was a monumental event.
“...I have grown interested in your sword.”
Baek Seo-gun, the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, spoke quietly.
She raised her left hand slightly. It wasn't an attack. With a light gesture, she swept back her half-white hair, which now barely grazed the nape of her neck.
Her every movement exuded the raw, untamed wildness of a true powerhouse.
A wave of energy surged from her pale neck toward the taiyang point at her temple, its power immense.
For the first time in nearly three years, the supreme expert whom the Feudatory King had dubbed a "sword ghost" showed a desire for battle. It was such a rare sight that the martial army of the Deep Martial Alliance faltered for a moment.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at her in silence. The waves of internal power radiating from her in irregular bursts were incredibly dense.
She didn't seem to have cultivated the internal energy of the Heterodox Sects, yet the flow of her qi was as wild and free as her temperament.
Her sword path would be difficult to predict.
She's strong.
He recalled the single clash they had just shared.
Jeong Yeon-shin had originally aimed for Baek Seo-gun's head, intending to cleave her in two with a single strike. The moment they faced each other, his intuition screamed that she was no ordinary swordsman.
The internal injuries he had sustained on West Peak Road and the physical exhaustion from his sprint were severe. He had no choice but to aim for a swift resolution.
Yet, he had been blocked by sheer technique.
Baek Seo-gun's defensive form was magnificent. She had instantly intercepted his blade, which had lunged forward like Sword Kinesis, and carved out a trajectory for a counterattack.
A thrust as swift as a flash of light. It was as if she were saying, If my head is split open, your heart won't be safe either. A terrifying sword move.
Jeong Yeon-shin had deflected her blade as he withdrew, feeling the crushing weight of her sword force.
The residual shockwave from their clash had swept past Baek Seo-gun's neck.
No expert coated their hair with Body Protection Astral Qi. It was bound to be severed by the sharp aftershock.
Her long hair, which had seemed a symbol of her status as an expert, had been sheared away in that instant.
“And you were the one talking about qualifications,” the black-robed Commander of the Demonlight Wing said calmly.
Baek Seo-gun didn't answer. She simply turned toward him in silence.
Beneath her long, vermilion trousers, the soft sound of red leather shoes treading upon the stone floor echoed faintly.
She was steeped in dense true qi.
“...”
Silence fell.
The surrounding net of Deep Martial Alliance warriors, closing in layer by layer, froze in place.
Many of them seemed lost, as if they couldn't believe their own eyes. Even for martial artists of a great sect, they were visibly shaken.
Moyong Myeong-jun and Gongson Min, who had arrived after the Small Sword Empress, were also speechless, though their expressions differed entirely.
The Moyong Young Master gazed solemnly at the younger expert who had just traded blows with the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, while the young master of the Gongson Clan couldn't hide the admiration written all over his face.
Their feelings seemed to be complete opposites.
“I will ask again.”
Facing Baek Seo-gun, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.
“Do you know my family?”
Holding his sword lowered, he carried himself as an equal to the Sword Venerable of the Deep Martial Alliance—a sight unimaginable anywhere in the vast Henan Province.
Yet, Baek Seo-gun no longer took issue with his informal speech. It was as if she had decided to treat this Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress as a peer, another lofty swordsman of the Heterodox Path.
“Of course I do,” she laughed. “I might even know more about the Jeong Family Manor than you do. I heard you left home at fifteen. You were a bit younger than I was. I’ve lived half your lifetime again on top of that.”
“Were you a guest of my family?”
“Who knows? Was the Jeong Family Manor ever a clan capable of hosting a master of the martial world?”
Baek Seo-gun, her lips curled slightly upward, and Jeong Yeon-shin, his mouth set in a calm line, faced each other.
The sight of them—one clad in vermilion martial robes, the other in a pitch-black cloak—conjured a heavy stillness.
As Jeong Yeon-shin fell silent, the conversation died. Neither the martial army surrounding them in a vast circle nor the young warriors of the Martial World Alliance dared to intervene.
“You speak with the dignity of a beggar in a spring famine.”
Only the spirit of the Hero of the Desolate Fortress remained distinct and unyielding.
“And from someone who claims to find their dignity in the sword, no less.”
Heonwon Chang paid no heed to the gazes of the surrounding net now focused on him. His previous talk of mutiny to the Lazy Flame Dragon paled in comparison to his current boldness.
Leaving behind the nameless disciple who was staring at him in disbelief, Heonwon Chang spoke to his Unit Commander once more.
“That Yeongcheon Sword Ghost is an eccentric. If you wish to disperse this army and capture her, Unit Commander, you should propose a wager that might tempt her. Her temperament defies common sense. If it catches her fancy, she will readily accept.”
“The child with the hero's headband has quite the insight. I thought he was just big and dull.”
Baek Seo-gun raised her long eyelashes, her expression one of surprise.
She turned her head back to Jeong Yeon-shin, her gaze sweeping over his entire body in a peculiar manner.
It was the look of an artist admiring a masterpiece.
“You have grown wonderfully. I once thought your father might have a talent for nurturing others. He died after polishing a vessel that the head of a third-rate martial family could scarcely dream of, so he must have had no regrets when he closed his eyes. That’s a good thing.”
Her expression was warm with satisfaction. She spoke as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, seemingly finding some form of solace in Jeong Yeon-shin's existence.
“...”
The corners of Jeong Yeon-shin’s mouth twitched upward slightly. It was a small, faint smile.
As Baek Seo-gun tilted her head, Heonwon Chang, standing behind him, muttered, “Now that I look at her, she’s completely unhinged.”
But her eyes were now filled solely with Jeong Yeon-shin.
“It was truly unexpected. To think a bloodline of the Jeong Family Manor would enter the Desolate Fortress. Your father possessed none of the temperament of a righteous hero. Were you counting on the support of your maternal family?”
Baek Seo-gun remained leisurely even after facing the sword art of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, and she showed an interest in him that went far beyond mere curiosity.
Her words, hovering somewhere between a question and a monologue, were entirely self-centered. Yet, her gaze was so intense it seemed she wanted to engrave his very breathing into her memory.
The description of her as an eccentric was indeed accurate.
“I didn't realize it after I left, but facing you like this brings back strange emotions. I see Ban-ak in your face.”
She kept playing with the ends of her hair. A supreme expert is an incarnation of martial arts, with internal power circulating through their entire body.
The rustling sound caused by her true qi echoed all the way to the other side. She seemed to like her newly shortened hair.
“Ban-ak?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked reflexively. It was his father's courtesy name. Were they more than just acquaintances?
“If I hadn't made that great choice back then, I might have walked through Xinye County holding your hand. But this is fine, in its own way. You received plenty of the love I couldn't give, judging by your wonderfully healthy complexion. I’m almost curious as to how he raised you.”
Baek Seo-gun’s eyes curved into a smile.
Has she mistaken the efficacy of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art for parental devotion?
It was then that Heonwon Chang, unable to watch any longer, stepped forward.
“The Hegemon Sword Sect and the Deep Martial Alliance are truly no different. You’re all blind as bats.”
“Hmm?”
“You might know that the Unit Commander's maternal family is connected to the Desolate Fortress, but you have no idea what the private affairs of his household were actually like. That’s only natural, of course. But babbling as if you know everything when you don't is another matter entirely.”
He was speaking of family matters. Baek Seo-gun's eyes flashed.
“Tell me more.”
In an instant, everyone's attention shifted. It wasn't just Baek Seo-gun who turned her gaze.
The Lazy Flame Dragon and the Small Sword Empress, as well as Gongson Min, the other figures of the Alliance, and the warriors of the Deep Martial Alliance—all of them were now listening.
Their positions and factions differed, and so did their reasons for paying attention.
Information on the newly appointed Commander of the Demonlight Wing was precious and rarely leaked to the martial world. There was no better clue for predicting the actions of an elusive supreme expert than their upbringing.
Incidents that hinted at their character, the grudges of their sect, their personal life, matters of blood relations—books compiling the personal histories of famous experts traded for exorbitant sums, and even then, they were rare.
Whether out of personal curiosity or hostility, they couldn't help but pay attention.
Jeong Yeon-shin's expression darkened.
Young Hero Heonwon is buying time. I need to think of a way to escape.
The atmosphere was hardly suited for a life-or-death battle. They were treading a fine line between tension and ease, all because of the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost's free-spirited and eccentric nature. A temporary peace.
Jeong Yeon-shin's own worries also played a part. They were deep in enemy territory. If he rashly initiated a battle, he might lose his companions.
A martial army of two hundred, plus the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost.
Unless he brought the entire Demonlight Wing at full strength, confronting them was impossible.
Originally, Jeong Yeon-shin had planned to block the gorge himself and let his companions escape. He had believed he could hold them off for a short while.
No. That would be difficult.
The information the Sword Saint had given him was wrong.
The martial prowess of the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, said to be undefeated in Henan, had been severely underestimated. She was far stronger than he had heard.
Even though her technique had been blocked by his own sword move—one she had never seen before—she had survived their first exchange. In the realm of supreme experts, that was akin to yielding the initiative and still suffering no loss. He couldn't easily calculate his chances of victory.
And that’s not counting the martial-trained soldiers. I can't handle them all here.
The young commander slowly opened his lips.
“My background is supposed to be known only to Demonlight First Team.”
“I will shut my mouth.”
Heonwon Chang immediately sealed his lips. Even when the clueless Lazy Flame Dragon nudged his ribs, demanding to know via telepathy, he remained silent.
The Small Sword Empress and Gongson Min also showed immense interest, but they held back their questions, sensing the tense atmosphere.
Doubt flickered across Baek Seo-gun's face.
“Speak. What have I misjudged?”
“Go back to the Deep Martial Alliance and find out for yourself. That is my business.”
“And yet, my business was to see your face.”
“That is none of my concern. Stop the plundering and go back. If you do not comply, you should consider half the subordinates you brought with you as good as dead.”
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, still holding his sword, spoke quietly. It was a calm threat.
He had just crossed swords with the Sword Venerable of the Deep Martial Alliance and sheared off her hair. To anyone present, his words did not sound like an empty boast.
And indeed, they weren't. The surrounding net stirred. Even if the expressions of the disciplined martial army remained solemn, they couldn't hide their fluctuating energy.
They could kill the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. But if their army suffered a blow akin to total annihilation, their achievements would become meaningless.
Baek Seo-gun stared blankly at him for a moment.
She opened her lips very slowly.
“You are certainly Jeong Dae-myung's son, yet you are nothing like him. I wish to know of your life.”
“This Unit Commander is no longer curious about you.”
“Anyone can see you are not in peak condition. How many days have you been running? Did you come all the way here from West Peak Road in a single breath?”
“...”
“Take a moment to rest. Your shockwave is astonishingly sharp, but I have no desire to face a sluggish sword.”
“What is the reason for this kindness?”
“I have ties to the Jeong Family Manor. It has been long abandoned, but seeing you stirs strange emotions. Is there anyone else who survived?”
“No.”
“You lie. No matter. I can find out later. Have you learned to drink?”
“I do not enjoy it.”
“What a pity. With a body tempered to that degree, even the poison of alcohol would act as medicine. It would have served well to loosen you up.”
Suddenly, the corners of her mouth curled up into an enigmatic smile.
“Come to think of it, in all my life, I have never received a drink from a direct descendant of the Jeong Family Manor.”
“...Are you suggesting we drink together here?”
“For every cup I receive, I shall spare one of your people. Seeing how you rushed in so recklessly, you seem to cherish your companions. I will swear on my title to let them go, one by one, while keeping my subordinates bound to this spot.”
It was a conversation that defied common sense. They said the martial world was full of eccentric masters and extraordinary individuals, and the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost was precisely such a person.
She had become a bizarre figure. This was true even without her reputation as a mysterious supreme expert who wielded Sword Control. Having grown up as a maidservant in a rural family, she had enjoyed all kinds of rare treasures and lofty power for so long that her very soul had grown dull.
That was why she had come to Hanzhong, tracking the traces of the Flash Art after hearing rumors of the Jeong Family Manor. She couldn't simply pass by anything that stirred even a small ripple of emotion within her, much like a government official who, after passing the civil service exams, returns to their rural hometown to find peace.
A drinking table was set.
With a single cup and a single flask between them, the two supreme experts sat facing each other. An audience of nearly two hundred surrounded them. The widest hill in the Seven Crowds Gorge became a silent, chillingly tense amphitheater.
“You shall receive first.”
Baek Seo-gun wrapped her long fingers around the flask. It was her right hand, the one she used to wield her sword.
As she looked at Jeong Yeon-shin with a faint smile, his eyes took in her entire form.
The moment she gripped the flask, her pinky finger was the slowest to move. It would be the same when she gripped her sword. The wave of energy radiating from the shaochong point beside the smooth nail of her pinky was the weakest.
This meant her sword art was free and unrestrained. When not employing Sword Control, she likely used a brilliant Fast Sword.
Her right arm, visible through her vermilion sleeve, was also engraved into his vision. He noted the muscles, sculpted in elegant lines. Though she possessed the physique of an incredibly agile, super-ascension swordsman, the shaded lines running from her triceps down to the extensor digitorum muscle below her thumb were slightly pronounced.
Her body itself was a precious sword, perfectly structured for highly fluid sword moves.
It was worth absorbing and developing through the Jeong Family Dynamic Art.
Perhaps I can also meld the subtle truths of the Infinite Flower of Time Hand into it. Into a form resembling the wild winds of the Seven Crowds Gorge.
Ever since he had begun to create a new sword style, his perspective had shifted once more. Everything in heaven and earth had transformed into inspiration for his sword. As if a single blade resided within his widened baihui point, he drew nourishment from people and nature alike.
Lightning flashed incessantly inside his mind. To truly manifest a divine art through a sword style, a single form was bound to be insufficient.
He was growing stronger right where he sat.
Amidst the setting sun, the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing raised his cup.