Chapter 181: Swordsman (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 181: Swordsman (4)
He had declared that a single clash would suffice against any martial artist participating in the Sect Founding Ceremony.
Claiming he could defeat his opponents in a single strike—such brazen words and actions were rarely seen in the Orthodox Jianghu.
Few battles held as many variables as a clash between masters.
Ending a duel so swiftly and decisively required more than just overwhelming martial prowess; it required luck, favorable martial arts compatibility, and the optimal state of one's acupoints.
Surely, not every duel could truly end in a single exchange.
Yet, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had just demonstrated the terrifying caliber of a Black Rank with a single sword strike. No one could dispute his arrogant declaration anymore.
"……"
The silence brought about by Flash Art, Commander of the Demonlight Wing, was profound.
In that moment of absolute speechlessness, even the westerly breeze—blowing indifferent to human affairs—felt strangely vivid.
It was a silence not easily broken, even though the venue was packed with the most illustrious figures from across the vast Jianghu.
Step.
Beside the flagpole driven into the ground by the Great Hero of the Desolate Fortress, Heonwon Chang, a black hem fluttered slightly.
Clad in a pitch-black robe, Flash Art stood with his hands behind his back, his eyelids slightly lowered. He stood beneath the white, fluttering banner of the Desolate Fortress (荒).
Finally, his outstanding appearance, martial power, and sheer dignity broke the spell. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd, thick with admiration.
"He has an otherworldly presence. To think such a youth existed in the Jianghu!"
"They say the rival of the Mount Hua Sect's Sword Absolute was the former Commander of the Demonlight Wing. A Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress is someone worthy of discussing martial arts alongside the immortals of the Nine Sects. They are beings you're lucky to see even once in a lifetime. Would there even be a hundred of them in all the vast Nine Provinces?"
"At that age... I can't believe it even as I'm looking right at him!"
Nearly a thousand people from all directions gazed at the youth. Their faces were filled with admiration, dazed bewilderment, or sheer disbelief.
In this world, even those living in well-connected hubs struggled to receive outside news immediately. Messenger pigeons were rare, and the messenger spirit beasts raised by the Brightfolk were used only by a tiny handful of noble families.
It was an era where rumors were carried by horse and man. Trust in the various intelligence networks of the world was also in disarray. Even if a young boy wore the black robe of a Commander, it was difficult to truly grasp his martial prowess before witnessing his martial arts firsthand.
"Isn't that a sword move that can't be achieved merely by consuming spirit medicines? Its precision is unfathomable."
"I heard rumors of him making a name for himself in Sichuan, but..."
Even the few who had seen Flash Art in the Clear Night Valley of Southern Zhili felt the same shock.
It had been less than a year since he, as a Blue-Ranked Warrior, had faced the Namgung Clan Changryeong Hwaju, Namgung Mi, and the Namgung Young Master, the Azure Qilin.
Only a few months. It was an increase in martial cultivation that utterly defied common sense.
A swordsman in the crowd muttered, "Did he spend over a decade living in the Peach Blossom Spring where time stands still?"
"Step down," Flash Art Jeong Yeon-shin said to Seop Un-cheol, who stood awkwardly with disheveled hair.
The eyes of the Radiant Zen Sword, Seop Un-cheol, no longer held their former wild light. It was as if his soul had been severed right along with his hair. He seemed to have no intention of disputing the outcome of their single clash.
It was impossible to know what profound impression the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's sword had imparted to him as its direct target.
"For revealing..." Seop Un-cheol slowly opened his mouth. "...your true martial arts, I thank you."
He raised and clasped his hands, his left still holding his sword. Because of the weapon, his arching hand salute was tilted slightly to the side.
The blade that had just brushed past Seop Un-cheol's neck scattered the ambient light. This was a custom modified by the Brightfolk during their wars in the late Yuan Dynasty. In the current Jianghu, it was used to express that a duel had been exceptionally satisfying.
The youth's eyes widened slightly.
When they had first faced each other, he had seen greed in his opponent's face. He had regarded him as just another member of the crowd, no different from the rest of the noble families.
Now, it was different. Seop Un-cheol's posture and expression were entirely composed. When it came to facing martial arts, could anyone in the Orthodox Jianghu wear an expression like the one the Azure Qilin had in his final moments?
"Please pace yourself. I wish you martial fortune."
Step.
After offering these brief well-wishes, the Radiant Zen Sword, Seop Un-cheol, turned around. He did not wait for the Commander of the Demonlight Wing to return the courtesy.
Sheathing his sword, he walked down from the duel stage, looking almost ashamed of his prior behavior.
He had heard that it was not uncommon for a lesser martial artist to experience a profound shift in mind and body after grasping a single thread of a master's martial principles.
Jeong Yeon-shin grew curious. In the trajectory of his nameless sword art—which even he did not yet fully understand—what exactly had the martial artist named Seop Un-cheol seen?
It doesn't seem like hypocrisy.
Perhaps they would meet again. A warmth circulated around his Baihui point, planting spirituality into his Upper Dantian. It felt as if it were whispering to its host, suggesting that this might be a serendipitous connection.
He looked around. He scanned the martial artists, merchants, escort warriors, powerless commoners, and beggars seated around the duel stage. He also saw masters of various appearances standing or leaning against the watchtowers lined up in all directions. People who had lived whole, complete lifetimes.
He had never taken in such a massive crowd all at once.
The youth's gaze sank as it swept over the crowd. The faces within his vision revealed a myriad of expressions. The envy and admiration of strangers brushed past his eyes, registering through the sense of Qi in his Upper Dantian.
So many people, living for fifty years, a hundred years...
Praise felt burdensome. Envy was laughable.
The reactions to his talent were like mantras, making him acutely aware of his own fleeting lifespan. In truth, the deepest inferiority complex lay within the youth himself.
What did it feel like to enjoy a life where the cliff's edge was still far away? Even though this was a world where few lived out their natural lifespans...
Jeong Yeon-shin blinked. He closed his eyes deeply, then opened them.
"...This Commander will not rest until the sun sets. Let the next martial artist enter."
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing spoke, lifting his gaze.
Standing straight on the duel stage, his posture exuded a lofty nobility. Streams of wind generated by his Fa Jin began to flow from his entire body.
The Wind God Movement Technique. A gentle breeze began to ceaselessly caress his black robes.
Even though he did not seem to move an inch, many martial artists flinched at the shockwaves radiating from his Body Protection Scripture. They knew it without even facing him directly. To anyone's eyes, this was a display of high-level martial arts.
Swallowing his inner thoughts, the youth fully assumed his presence as a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress.
The crowd's expressions shifted. Now, deep intrigue colored their faces. The atmosphere transformed into one fitting for a true festival.
Historically, the Desolate Fortress was a great sect that enjoyed even stronger support from the common people than the Nine Sects. Unless they were directly associated with the Martial World Alliance, few would dislike seeing a young Commander of the Desolate Fortress proudly displaying his martial prowess.
"I am So Jun."
The First Hero of Yeoju stepped forward. It was the natural flow of things. Acting Chief Strategist Jegal Cheon retreated beneath the canopy of the Alliance leadership.
As deep shadows swallowed the elegant, middle-aged strategist, the crowd's gaze remained fixed entirely on the duel stage.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared quietly at the First Hero of Yeoju, So Jun.
The middle-aged man could not hide his dismay. He had watched from the closest vantage point as the youth exchanged a single sword strike with Seop Un-cheol. He had clearly grasped the vast disparity in their martial arts.
Yet, he could not back down now.
So Jun respectfully raised his clasped hands. His posture was that of a proper orthodox martial artist. He was a figure deeply respected by many mid-level experts of the Orthodox Jianghu.
"Born in Yeoju, Shaanxi, I trained at the One Origin Martial Hall of the Kunlun lay sect. I am merely a minor soldier who has clumsily learned a collateral martial lineage of the Kunlun Sect."
"I am from Xinye County, Henan. I have inherited the Demonlight Formula of the Desolate Fortress."
The youth replied briefly, providing no more information than necessary.
Rather than confirming that what he practiced was a sect-exclusive martial art, it was better to let them wander in the dark, searching for a counter-technique to a martial art that didn't even exist.
Among the forty-plus mid-level experts he had to face next were the Eon Family's Number One Fist and the Hwasan Sword Excellence. These were titles he had heard of even before the Jeong Family Manor was destroyed. Their reputations were immense. It was said they were capable of vying for supremacy even against a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress.
The Hwasan Sword Excellence, Perfected Heavenly Pillar, was a worthy rival to Ma Jin.
For a newly appointed Commander of the Desolate Fortress to even speak of victory against a mid-level peak expert of the Nine Sects, he would have to push his innate senses to their absolute limit.
The key is how little of my true martial arts I reveal before reaching them.
To achieve that, his victories leading up to them had to be overwhelmingly decisive.
The youth stared ahead. The First Hero of Yeoju, So Jun, was approaching with peculiar footwork.
Thud. Thud.
With every strike of his heels against the ground, something changed. The direction of his Qi waves shifted. Dust swirled and scattered at his feet. The ripples spreading from his internal power were strange, shimmering mysteriously in the air.
It was as if they declared he could step in any direction and extend his powerful sword anywhere at a moment's notice.
Before its destruction, Kunlun had been one of the Nine Sects. Everyone knew this. If this was a martial art derived from a lay sect of the Kunlun Sect, it was a technique that could not be easily underestimated.
The key lay in the moment his true Qi fully loaded into those irregular steps. A lethal strike would surely follow the instant he drew his sword.
Tap!
A dusty wind swept across the floor of the duel stage. The crowd watched the battle with bated breath.
Whoosh!
The moment a sharp light flashed in So Jun's eyes, the shockwaves accumulated through the nameless Kunlun footwork transformed into immense propulsive force. White dust rose from the stage, enveloping the surroundings. In Jeong Yeon-shin's vision, the approaching figure expanded rapidly.
So Jun had already drawn his sword. He had fully loaded the force of his Body Protection Scripture. He truly deserved the title of a mid-level expert. It was clear that his Blue-rank martial prowess was heavily seasoned with experience.
Next page.
Jeong Yeon-shin thought of the Compendium of Crushing the Righteous.
Taking in the First Hero of Yeoju's footwork, he slowly took a step forward. It was timed perfectly—just a fraction of a second before his opponent could step diagonally forward.
The path So Jun's legs would take and the direction of his Qi waves drew complex, intersecting lines in his mind. It was a realm of prediction that finely dissected the directions of the Eight Trigrams, yet the Baihui point at the crown of his head and the Upper Dantian beneath it remained perfectly tranquil.
Only a single footprint was engraved upon the calm surface of his mental space.
Step.
He stepped forward just like that, channeling his true Qi into the Liangqiu and Xiyangguan points of his leg joints. Beneath the clearly defined quadriceps hidden under his trousers, the calf muscles below his knees relaxed lightly.
It was lower-body Fa Jin. He had seamlessly blended the principles of the Wind God Movement Technique into his footwork.
Swoosh!
So Jun, his mouth twisted in shock, brushed right past him. His decisive strike had been rendered useless by a single step.
Only the fierce wind of the shockwave raged on. The black sleeves of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing billowed high.
The youth did not let him go. With a hand casually extended backward, he caught the First Hero of Yeoju by the nape of his neck. So Jun's hair was short. The pulse at the back of his neck throbbed violently against Jeong Yeon-shin's palm. The man seemed utterly astounded.
Brilliant River.
He channeled his true Qi into the Laogong and Shaofu points of his palm. He held So Jun's neck without even looking back. A spiral of internal power sprouted from the center of his palm. So Jun flinched.
Ever since the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had stepped through the main gates of the Martial World Alliance headquarters, a frenzy of rumors about Flash Art Jeong Yeon-shin had swept through the land. Most of the Alliance now knew the details of the battle that had taken place publicly in the Clear Night Valley. They even knew the name and power of the terrifying palm technique, famously named by the Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin.
"I surrender!" So Jun shouted, his back still turned to the youth.
The youth immediately withdrew his hand.
It was enough to simply hold the threat of Brilliant River against the pride of the Martial World Alliance. He had taken another step toward completing his mission.
The crowd reacted instantly. This time, there was no silence.
As if finally remembering their original purpose for coming—to enjoy the Alliance's Sect Founding Ceremony—cheers began to erupt from all sides. The clamor of hundreds of people spread like wildfire.
"What a feast for the eyes here in Hanzhong!"
"Wasn't that also a single clash? One step, one move!"
"He is a true genius... Since he is from the Desolate Fortress, even my father would be more than satisfied with him as a marriage prospect..."
Overwhelming martial power always stirred the noble spirit of the masses. The excitement was palpable. It was so intense that a few people disappearing from the spectator seats went completely unnoticed.
Beside a newly vacant seat, the Young Lady of the Ye Clan sat proudly. However, no one was paying any attention to her.
Even the exchange of courtesies between the First Hero of Yeoju and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was swallowed by the clamor.
"I saw the Commander's gaze. I felt as if I were being sucked right into it. This So expresses his gratitude. Thank you for taking this exchange seriously."
"It was marvelous footwork. It has broadened my horizons," the youth replied.
So Jun, still holding his arching hand salute, blinked once before bursting into a hearty laugh.
"It is an honor."
Perhaps he took it as a mere polite compliment, but Jeong Yeon-shin was entirely sincere. Another page had just been filled in his internal Compendium of Crushing the Righteous.
If he continued to build his foundations one by one like this, he might even create the third move of his nameless sword art before facing the Sword Saint. Once it reached three moves or more, it could be fully bound together as a single, continuous flow—a true sword art.
At that moment, the signature technique of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing would finally be born.
"Next," the youth called out.
The cheering grew even louder. The Sect Founding Ceremony, slated to last for four days, had just entered an entirely new phase.
*
The next day.
A meeting of the Martial World Alliance leadership convened.
The number of attendees reached thirty. For the absolute upper echelons of the Jianghu, this was an exceptionally large gathering. Along with the various heads of noble families and their successors, the Ye Clan Leader and his niece were also in attendance.