Chapter 178: Swordsman
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 178: Swordsman
The Sect Founding Ceremony of the Martial World Alliance was a grand affair.
To secure food supplies while standing against the might of the Desolate Fortress, their prestige needed to be absolute—especially in the midst of a severe famine.
As these chaotic times deepened, public sentiment and face mattered more than ever. The Alliance aimed to cement their symbolic status as the greatest coalition in the Jianghu.
Thus, they threw their main gates wide open.
A scale surpassing even the Desolate Fortress. The ultimate banner of righteousness. This was the impression the Martial World Alliance sought to project.
They asserted their dominance through this very ceremony. Masters from mysterious, single-successor sects knocked upon their doors, and the swordsmen of the Mount Hua Sect descended from their peaks.
Experts from powerful noble families also appeared in droves.
Fist fighters of the Eon Family strapped on their hand guards. A stellar array of masters revealed themselves one after another.
The Alliance had spent a long time preparing for this moment.
Beggars of the Beggar Sect had spread rumors throughout every marketplace and plastered public notices on every wall. The masses couldn't help but pay attention.
It was touted as the grand stage where the martial artists of the Orthodox Jianghu would display their unrivaled prowess.
Countless crowds gathered.
There wasn't a single village in the vast land of Hanzhong that wasn't bustling. The lights of the taverns and inns lining the main avenues burned through the night.
"It was a feast for the eyes! The Moyong Clan's River-Severing Sword Style truly lives up to its reputation. I can only imagine how magnificent the Hwasan Sword Excellence's Twenty-Four Move Plum Blossom Sword will be. They say it's the most beautiful sword technique under the heavens. Just thinking about it makes my heart race. Arriving late is my deepest regret."
"I didn't see a damn thing, though. I suppose your family's eye technique is more impressive than I thought. Or are you just blowing hot air?"
"Hot air? How could a novice ever fathom the vision of a master?"
Laughter and clamor filled the air. The wide avenue stretching before the main gate was so packed there was barely room to step.
On days when rumors spread of a duel between even reasonably famous masters, the streets for five li around would transform into a bustling market.
Commoners hawked pancakes and sweets. Waiters from shabby inns spilled into the streets to solicit passersby.
Crowds.
A literal wave of humanity—the phrase was fitting. Today was no exception.
"I never knew such pavilions existed in this world. So tall, grand, and elegant... It's truly another world. It seems the claim that the Martial World Alliance is the greatest under heaven isn't an exaggeration."
"The true wonder was the fist technique of the Eon Family's Number One Fist. To shake heaven and earth with a mere human body... I finally understand why the noble families carry themselves as loftily as royalty. Wouldn't a man like that be enough to face an entire army alone?"
The sheer amount of attention focused here was staggering. An opportunity for ordinary commoners to sightsee inside the main headquarters of the Martial World Alliance was a once-in-a-lifetime event.
Even though their movements were heavily restricted and they had to endure thorough identity checks, braving the interrogations was well worth it.
From commoners and merchants to martial artists of minor sects and escorts guarding the flow of goods, the sea of people was a spectacle even to the Alliance's own members.
In this world, opportunities to take in so many people at a single glance were rare. This held true even for the man and woman sitting atop a seven-story pavilion just inside the Alliance's main headquarters.
It was a vantage point that offered a crystal-clear view of the main avenue beyond the gates.
"It seems the Alliance Leader isn't the Sword Saint after all. The Jegal Clan Leader decides everything," said a woman practically reclining on the roof rafters.
She was 'Miss Ye' of the Ye Family.
Her eyes were covered with a soft white cloth, yet she gazed down as though she possessed the ability to see straight through the roof.
"Why are there so many of them? They look like cockroaches."
"Compared to the noble True Blood lineage, indeed they do," replied a middle-aged man neatly dressed in pure white martial robes.
He stood rigidly upright just below Miss Ye. Despite the fierce winds battering the roof, his posture didn't waver in the slightest. His martial arts were seamlessly woven into his everyday movements.
"The Jegal Clan Leader's monopoly on power was to be expected. He established the Orthodox coalition right where his main family resides. It can be considered the reward for all their behind-the-scenes efforts. He has firmly taken the lead in governing the martial world."
"At least it's a relief that the Sword Saint is on my side," Miss Ye said, adjusting her pure white blindfold with long, elegant fingers.
"I was half-doubtful. I didn't expect it to work on someone of his caliber, you know? He hasn't a clue. Those peerless masters are all eccentric, so they naturally have their blind spots. The late Cult Leader was the same. I wonder why that is?"
"...There are realms one can only reach by letting go of one's sanity. All the absolute masters who dominate the current era are likely like that. There is a saying that the peerless realm is a world of madmen. I believe the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps at the Desolate Fortress said as much."
"Hmm, but the Hegemon Hero was a bit different. The First Apostle should have seen the technique he used to burn the Cult Leader. Perhaps because he is our Grand Preceptor's grandfather, he recognized and mastered the divine art perfectly. I was so envious."
"You must not underestimate the Sword Saint. The moment even a fraction of our cult's martial arts is revealed in your conduct, it will lead to our ruin. Though this unworthy apostle has repeatedly offered advice, one can never be too cautious."
"Is this thing unreliable?"
Miss Ye lightly lifted the edge of her blindfold with a fingertip. The middle-aged man's eyes flashed.
"It is undoubtedly a sorcery martial tool of our cult. As a sacred relic of the Cult Leader passed down through generations, it is a dharma treasure crafted to protect direct descendants from lowly beings. From birth, those of the divine True Blood have been targeted by various insignificant clans, even before they begin practicing the Blood Art."
"So it is indeed the item that kept our bloodline alive?"
"If a noble member of our bloodline covers their eyes with it, no one will know the truth. It distorts perception through the realm of sorcery. As long as you do not reveal your Blood Art, the deception will hold. Since that is its only restriction, it is truly worthy of being called a sacred relic."
"Didn't you just tell me not to let my guard down?"
"Even if you deceive them regarding your temperament, voice, and appearance, your conduct is a different matter entirely."
"I've heard that until I'm sick of it. I'm just getting a bit anxious. Our Grand Preceptor will arrive soon. He is a divine being who has refined the ability to crush evil through his internal energy alone. Will I really not be caught?"
The hand touching her blindfold drifted down to the hair cascading past her shoulder. She lightly twirled the ebony ends.
The middle-aged man standing in attendance replied with an expressionless face, acting as if he hadn't noticed her gesture.
"You have washed away all of your original habits. You possess talent that surpasses even the former Cult Leader. With all due respect, I advise that simply paying attention to your words and deeds will be enough. Though, for you, that will likely be the hardest part."
"Well, of course. Anyway, I'm looking forward to it so much. I don't even know how long it's been since we were last stuck together."
"...The sacred relic is a treasure like no other under heaven, so please cherish it."
"But there's only one thing truly precious to me."
The corners of Miss Ye's mouth curled up into a smooth, mesmerizing smile.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin entered the main headquarters of the Martial World Alliance with his companions. The moment they stepped inside the main gates, an immense wave of vitality washed over them.
The sheer energy emitted by the countless people was dense enough to constantly stimulate his Baihui point.
Yet, at the same time, he felt a distinct sense of incongruity.
"The character for 'desolate'? And golden tassels... What a flashy martial uniform that young master is wearing."
"Wait a minute. That age, the character for 'desolate' (荒), a black robe... Isn't that the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, Flash Art? The supreme master of the Desolate Fortress!"
"What? He's a real person?"
"Stop acting like a country bumpkin from Guangdong. You'll offend him. Let's just pass quietly."
It was completely different from before. There were no gazes laced with competitive spirit or hostility.
While those unaffiliated with the Martial World Alliance stared at Jeong Yeon-shin's group with open curiosity, the Alliance's own martial artists deliberately averted their eyes and hurried past.
"I guess they still know what shame is. Inviting envoys only to start the Sect Founding Ceremony all by themselves?"
Heonwon Chang openly sneered. There was no reply. Gongson Min and the Small Sword Empress, who were accompanying them, wore rare, awkward expressions.
"Could there be some mistake?" asked the young master of the Gongson Clan.
Though young, he was the successor of a massive noble family. Dark sparks constantly flickered within his pitch-black eyes—the eye light generated by the Gongson Clan's internal cultivation.
Having just witnessed the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, a man he deeply admired, settle things with the Sword Venerable of Henan, shame and anguish were now written all over Gongson Min's face.
"They call themselves the Righteous Faction... Even if the noble families chase after secular fame, this is going too far. My family would never have agreed to this. It's nothing short of a disgrace to the Orthodox martial lineages."
"Well, the report that the Deep Martial Alliance withdrew must have already been delivered. There are plenty of Beggar Sect beggars in Hanzhong. If a figure from a noble family had achieved what Lord Jeong did single-handedly, wouldn't they have rushed out to greet him ages ago...?"
The Small Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok, spoke up, forcing her usually sleepy eyebrows upward. She, along with Gongson Min, carefully watched Jeong Yeon-shin's reaction.
She seemed inwardly concerned. It was highly unlike her, as she was usually dazed about everything. This meant the situation was no ordinary matter.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave them a calm glance.
"Go rest."
It was a dismissal, but also an acknowledgment from the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. A word of encouragement from the Black Rank expert who had single-handedly resolved the Alliance's crisis.
Gongson Min's eyes widened before he unconsciously muttered, "I should go get my sword back from Moyong Myeong-jun first."
With that, the group split up.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't bother reporting the outcome to the Sword Saint. Checking on Namgung Hwa-shin, who had been left behind, was his top priority.
If the Alliance's affairs had moved so rapidly that the Sect Founding Ceremony was already underway, he knew the White Qilin's temperament well enough to know he wouldn't have just sat idly by.
Within the massive crowd, he noticed people scattering in all directions. They had moved the moment they spotted him.
It seemed the martial artists of the various sects comprising the Alliance had rushed off to report to their leadership.
Step.
The young Commander of the Demonlight Wing slowly walked forward.
With every step he took, the crowd parted like the sea. Wary faces and curious expressions rippled outward in all directions.
The reaction of the Desolate Fortress's Black Rank expert, who had come as an official envoy, instantly became the focus of intense scrutiny. Would the Sect Founding Ceremony meet a disastrous end?
Or would the festive energy blanketing the land of Hanzhong successfully solidify the Martial World Alliance's presence and spread throughout the entire Central Plains?
'The Martial World Alliance is vast, yet closed off. What exactly happened?'
Accompanied only by the Lazy Flame Dragon and Heonwon Chang, the boy walked in silence.
He thought of Namgung Hwa-shin, his most reliable companion and subordinate. The man would have certainly voiced his fierce opposition to this slight.
Discussions among martial artists usually entailed physical clashes. The Heterodox Sects and the Orthodox Factions were no different in this regard.
If their positions couldn't be reconciled, it was common practice to decide major matters through martial prowess. It was a world where the word of a master was absolute law.
Yet, the Alliance had completely ignored Namgung Hwa-shin's counterarguments.
If they had used any intimidation or force against him in the process, Jeong Yeon-shin was fully prepared to use the pavilions in the inner courtyard of the Alliance as a testing ground for his new sword technique.
'If they thought I would hesitate to draw my sword just because this is the Orthodox Jianghu, they are sorely mistaken.'
Heonwon Chang would surely provide the necessary justification. As for the sword wound inflicted by the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, that debt could be settled by confiscating the Lazy Flame Dragon's poppies.
Slide.
His left hand instinctively moved to clasp the hilt of the Divine Sword: Northern Light. Instantly, sharp intakes of breath echoed from various pockets of the crowd.
It was the collective shock of the Alliance's martial artists. Did they think they were about to witness a supreme master suddenly unleash a slaughter?
It was then.
Rustle.
Suddenly, soft and light footsteps echoed over the din. They were exceptionally clear.
'Hmm?'
A rapidly approaching presence. It was a dreamlike movement technique, as if the person were strolling on clouds.
Within just a few steps, she was close enough for him to catch her scent.
She wore pure white clothing with wide, draped sleeves. It was an outfit that blurred the boundary between martial robes and elegant court attire.
The woman walked straight toward Jeong Yeon-shin. The white silk covering her eyes bound a single strand of her hair, trailing down gracefully.
She had clearly paid meticulous attention to her appearance, yet her long, unhesitating strides were what truly stood out. He couldn't tell if she was genuinely blind or a martial artist training in the Path of Senses.
"……"
The surroundings fell dead silent.
Perhaps it was due to the woman's lofty status. Or perhaps it was simply because of her appearance.
Sunlight filtered down through the leaves of the trees. In the dappled light, the elegant bridge of her nose stood out beautifully.
Her skin, as pale as white porcelain, possessed a smooth, flawless radiance. Her hair, swaying with her cheerful steps, carried a strange, mysterious charm.
'She is practicing both a heart cultivation art and a footwork technique simultaneously. What an extraordinary sense.'
Jeong Yeon-shin felt the rhythmic waves of energy in her slender breaths. It was the exact same with her footsteps.
Near the big toe of her pink silk shoes, he could identify the directional shifts of the Eight Trigrams' subtle principles. A profound internal power rippled outward with every cheerful step she took.
The autumn wind seemed to caress her with exceptional clarity, almost as if she had refined some ancient sorcery.
There was an innate elegance in her approaching posture—a profound dignity that seemed to breathe through her martial arts.
If a martial artist were to ever speak of a beauty capable of toppling empires, it would undoubtedly take this exact form.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a strange sensation in his heart. It was the movement of his halo. For a brief moment, it throbbed distinctly within him.
The feeling hovered somewhere between repulsion and resonance. A portion of the energy inherent in his Law-Transcending Halo Qi had flared up at the exact same time.
He didn't know the reason. Was it because of the unique aura this woman possessed?
'What is this?'
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin was pondering this, the woman, having approached within arm's reach, finally spoke.
Her attitude completely ignored the hundreds of surrounding martial artists.
"He says it doesn't have to be right now. It's a message from the Sword Saint."
"What?"
"Ah, I can speak casually, right? I know you're a Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress. But I'm an acting leader too. Well, an acting merchant group leader, but I'm the owner of a very, very large merchant group. How about we just speak casually to each other? I speak casually even to the Chief Military Advisor."
"State your identity and name," the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing demanded flatly.
It was then.
For a fleeting moment, Jeong Yeon-shin felt as though their eyes had met through the blindfold. It was incredibly strange that absolutely no hostility registered in his Upper Dantian's sense of Qi.
Was this what it felt like to have the night sky gaze upon him? A brief silence fell between them.
Soon, the woman standing right in front of him let out a soft smile that exuded an almost demonic allure.
"This is a secret... but I'm telling you because the esteemed Commander of the Demonlight Wing commands it."
She extended her elegant fingers, her lips—as red as poppies—parting slightly.
"The Ye Sword Gate, the Ye Merchant Group."
Her pale fingertips came to rest on Jeong Yeon-shin's fist, which was still gripping the hilt of his sword at his waist. A foreign, intoxicating fragrance subtly drifted through the air.
The woman, gently overlapping her hand with the starting stance of the Commander's sword draw, bowed her head slightly.
Her soft breath dispersed warmly against the boy's collarbone.
"My name is Ye Ha-rin," she whispered.