Chapter 194: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 194: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (2)
"Did you not feel anything strange when you fought the Eon Family's Number One Fist?"
Jegal Cheong-a's voice was clear and pleasant to the ear. It carried a resonance reminiscent of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, tickling his ears.
Having mastered a secret eye technique, the true qi at her Tongziliao Point seemed to extend all the way to the back of her head. Yet, the girl's expression contrasted with her even tone. Her indifferent face was strangely stiff.
"Strange?" Jeong Yeon-shin asked, absentmindedly brushing his sleeveless left shoulder. The left sleeve of the black robe he had inherited from Ma Jin had been torn away along with his arm.
Whenever he faced or even thought of a formidable foe, he found himself reaching for that empty space. The bare skin of his stump was a constant reminder of the weight carried by the rank of a Desolate Fortress Unit Commander.
"According to you, I'll have to fight elite martial artists. Is this related to the Duke of Eminent Fists, Eon Hwa-ryeon?"
"Yes, absolutely," Jegal Cheong-a answered quietly.
She had an ulterior motive. She knew her words had to be persuasive. This was about moving the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress, after all.
Even the Flash Art himself could not act lightly. A supreme expert of the Black Rank served as a strategic weapon in any great sect war. Though they didn't show it openly, the Alliance's wariness toward the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was immense. To them, he was like a Thunderbolt Bomb waiting to go off in their very heart.
He was a supreme expert of a caliber that even the Eight Great Families struggled to produce more than two of. Despite their towering prestige as the aristocracy of the martial world, the fact remained: below the level of a clan head, an expert of his caliber was the pillar that practically upheld a family's reputation.
He could not be viewed as a mere boy her age. Jegal Cheong-a recognized this clearly.
'He is an existence too weighty to be moved by the testimony of a single individual.'
If she treated him carelessly, even the precious daughter of a noble family would face severe consequences. She had to present facts that would thoroughly convince the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, Jeong Yeon-shin.
Jegal Cheong-a swallowed hard, keeping her eyes fixed on the boy before her.
"Eon Hwa-ryeon cleanly countered my fist and palm techniques. She was a decent martial artist," the boy remarked casually.
It had been quite some time since he created the Infinite Flower of Time Hand. Because he had not yet achieved the Unity of Essence, Qi, and Spirit, he had to navigate the Black Rank realm using a variety of martial arts, and Eon Hwa-ryeon's moves had just revealed new forms to him. The Infinite Flower of Time Hand could progress even further. The Alliance had inadvertently accomplished what the Desolate Fortress's Law Enforcement Unit could not.
A hint of goodwill naturally seeped into his tone. Setting aside the actions of the Eon Family's Number One Fist, she was worthy of recognition as a true martial artist.
"A decent martial artist..." Jegal Cheong-a bit her lower lip slightly. It was a display of emotion she had never shown before.
Born with exceptionally sharp intuition, she had lived a suppressed life under the tyranny of the Jegal Clan Leader. Even now, she was carefully reading the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's mood. Her anxious mind kept repeating a single thought: What if he refuses? My backup plans are far too uncertain.
However, the boy possessed a sense of qi that surpassed mere intuition. He narrowed his eyes.
"I told you not to beat around the bush. I also warned you not to chase after pipe dreams. Just state your business. I'll be the judge."
Jegal Cheong-a's eyelashes trembled. It was a bluntness she had never experienced outside her family. Perhaps it was because the true qi of a divine art, imbued with heavy spirituality, laced the boy's voice.
Though his demeanor was entirely different from her father, the Jegal Clan Leader, her lips parted of their own accord.
"...I examined the corpses of those who fell by your hand. It was on the Jegal Clan Leader's orders. We deeply calculated your sword path from the trajectories left in the cuts, and traced the texture of your shockwaves from the flesh crushed by your internal power. Eon Hwa-ryeon was provided with those countermeasures."
"Corpses?"
"The corpse of the Azure Qilin, Young Master Namgung, bearing those very scars, is also here at the Alliance."
The girl spoke quietly, yet it clearly took great effort.
At the word 'corpse,' the furrow in Jeong Yeon-shin's brow vanished, leaving his face completely expressionless. He did not question her.
In an instant, his Upper Dantian, situated below the Baihui Point, thoroughly dissected Jegal Cheong-a's disposition. Were her words true? What underlying intention lay beneath them? No, her motives didn't matter. The intuition of his Upper Dantian accepted the girl's statement as absolute truth.
Perhaps because his Baihui Point had expanded further, the sensation came to him with vivid clarity, as if the innate ability of the Brightfolk had manifested.
Slowly, the boy savored this unfamiliar sensation.
Suddenly, the autumn wind grew chilly, seeming to plunge directly into the crown of his head. The tempest that had risen in his mind for a brief moment settled down, becoming like a clear mirror and still water.
It felt as though his reason and his heart were finally aligning. Had he grown a little since the time his uncle lost his arm? Or perhaps his troubled mind, growing alongside his noticeably lengthening limbs of late, had heated his Baihui Point.
Jeong Yeon-shin had secured two justifications.
Before moving, he clarified the reasons for his coming actions: the Alliance's complicity in the Deep Martial Alliance's plundering of the common people, and their desecration of corpses to study his martial arts.
With these two sins, no matter how high the Jegal Clan Leader's reputation soared, he could be brought down. The boy rationalized it clearly.
At this moment, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was not acting out of personal anger.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke slowly. "I know your family's formations are laid out everywhere. Lead the way."
"Infiltration is impossible. There is no choice but a frontal breakthrough."
"Is that also because of the formations?"
"Yes. If we do not enter according to the established protocols, the guard martial artists will know immediately. It is the same even if the sorcery formations and mechanism formations are destroyed. It would actually be faster to take the open path."
The story of Jegal Cheon testing the Commander of the Demonlight Wing with a formation and ending up humiliated was already famous. Jegal Cheong-a had drawn up her plan assuming that the Flash Art possessed a means to break sorcery formations. Even so, martial power that had reached the absolute peak was essential.
"My father and the Moyong Clan Head are currently out. I do not know the reason, but even during the Foundation Ceremony, they left the Alliance around this time. It has to be now. If we delay even a little longer, we will be blocked by the returning clan heads. We must secure the corpse to establish our justification; only then can we remain safe after taking action."
It was then that Jegal Cheong-a, who had been whispering rapidly, suddenly scanned her surroundings.
"But where are the others...? The White Qilin, Young Master Namgung, and the Lazy Flame Dragon would be of great help..."
"They went to greet the VIPs in my stead, since I must prepare for the duel."
"Ah, the Sichuan Tang Clan..."
Leaving Jegal Cheong-a's sigh behind, the boy walked forward. He flung open the gates of the Rhyme-Fragrance Court and strode across the threshold.
The girl hurried after him and took the lead. Jegal Cheong-a did not hand over a map of the Alliance. To replace her father—who would inevitably fall due to his unrighteous actions—she had to expose the clan head's corruption herself, acting as a righteous martial artist.
Having mastered the eye technique, she had planned everything for this very future, placing her trust in the character of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing that she had discerned from the Azure Qilin's wounds.
It was said that the people of the Central Plains loved to gamble. Jegal Cheong-a possessed that very temperament.
'If I fail, I will never see the light of day again,' the girl thought. She would be enslaved, exploited for her eye technique for the rest of her life.
She had staked her entire life on the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. It was for her own survival, and that of her brother. She wanted to live an honorable life as a true member of the Orthodox Factions of the Jianghu.
"This way."
Jegal Cheong-a's fingertips touched Jeong Yeon-shin's wrist. A soft sensation brushed against his skin. Soon, the girl gently clasped the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's wrist.
Feeling his clear gaze piercing the back of her neck, Jegal Cheong-a lowered her head slightly and offered a quick excuse.
"We need to draw people's attention. Even if we seize the corpse in secret, it will be useless if the clan heads pursue us in haste and cover it up. If word spreads that the daughter of the Jegal Clan and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing are engaged in a romantic liaison... people will follow us anywhere. Thanks to the Foundation Ceremony, the crowd is larger than ever. I promise I will explain everything later."
"Did you not train your Lightness Skill? Just walk faster."
To the current Jeong Yeon-shin, such matters were of absolutely no consequence. It was the same even when they stepped onto the grand avenue lined with the Alliance's pavilions. He couldn't care less about the stares directed at him.
The white-hot sensation in his Upper Dantian was eating away at his reason. The Azure Qilin was a lifelong rival, the likes of whom he would never meet again. A deep wound had been dealt to the towering pride of the martial artist Jeong Yeon-shin. With it came a righteous, overwhelming rage.
Now that he had decided on his course of action, all that remained was to strike with his sword.
The crowd whispering among themselves and following them from the shadows was utterly trivial. He was in no position to care about how scandalous a rumor spread by peers at the absolute peak of the Jianghu might be. Those dozens of gossiping onlookers would have nothing better to do than chew on and dissect empty rumors until Jeong Yeon-shin passed the age of twenty.
For the boy right now, only the martial artists of the Jegal Clan who had suddenly blocked his path filled his vision.
They were guarding the only open gate in the wall that surrounded the pavilions like a fortress. The vast cluster of pavilions stretching out behind them bore witness to the clan's prestige. Even the sweeping curves of the roofs were as elegant as masterful sculptures.
"My Lady, Commander of the Demonlight Wing, please halt here."
There were five of them. They looked past the shoulders of Jeong Yeon-shin and Jegal Cheong-a, prioritizing their duty over their young mistress. They seemed more concerned with the crowd gathering behind them. Every single one of them wore a grim expression.
Except for the middle-aged man in green robes leading them, who possessed an impressively square jaw.
"This is a private area used by our clan. Setting aside how the two of you became so close, if you are out for a stroll, I highly recommend the lakeside to the west of the Alliance."
A mixture of awkwardness and curiosity was written across his smiling face.
Jeong Yeon-shin parted his lips. "I heard you are desecrating the corpse of the Azure Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin."
"..."
"As a martial artist who has inherited his sword intent, I must verify this. Step aside."
"How absurd. I have never heard of such a thing..."
The man spoke with an indifferent face. Jeong Yeon-shin tightened his grip on his wooden sword. He saw the man's expression falter for a split second before quickly recovering. His suspicion deepened into certainty.
"A master who has conquered the Foundation Ceremony cannot possibly be this insolent. Are you serious?"
"Do not waste your breath. I will not say it again."
"Your jokes are truly terrifying. Please, do not do this. This place can be considered the heart of the Alliance. Even as a Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress, you will regret this."
His tone was playful, contrasting sharply with the gravity of his words. What he said next was much the same.
"More than that... I, too, have trained in the Fast Sword. Your duel with the Perfected Heavenly Pillar was highly impressive, but rather than the destructive sword move you unleashed at the end, your Fast Sword from the high guard stance caught my eye. For a sword strike unleashed from a standstill to be as swift as lightning... it is a sword style I have never seen in my life. If it has a name, please tell me."
He was trying to change the subject. Yet his eyes contradicted his tone. Even as he spoke, he firmly adopted a hostile stance.
The same went for the four men gripping their sword hilts behind him. Their attitude made it clear they would rather fight to the death than open the path.
Turn back, or we will cut you down.
The clan's martial artists communicated this warning clearly through their aura.
"Is the name of a sword move more important than this Unit Commander's business?" Jeong Yeon-shin asked with a cold smile. With his free hand, he grabbed Jegal Cheong-a's sleeve and pulled her behind him.
The soft texture of silk brushed against his palm before slipping away.
The question of the man before him... reminded him once again of the meaning behind his new sword move.
A first strike was usually a method to measure an opponent. The gaze of an extremely focused swordsman reached a state where it judged the years of training his opponent had accumulated. A Fast Sword that had reached its peak forced the opponent into an extreme situation, making them reveal their true worth.
There was a term for this: Simgeuk—to judge and overcome. To judge right from wrong, superior from inferior. To thoroughly observe the opponent.
Yet, at this moment, the intent held in the hand gripping the wooden sword was entirely dedicated to honoring a single individual. Even the chilly autumn air could not calm the veins bulging on the back of his hand.
The name of the move was decided. It was a statement thrown at the Martial World Alliance by the Flash Art, Commander of the Demonlight Wing: The way you and I observe the dead is vastly different.
First move.
"Qilin's Judgment," the boy answered, the words slipping through his teeth.
Step.
Rage surged with every stride he took, and the shockwaves of Fa Jin from his entire body rose more violently than ever before.
The guarding martial artists reacted quickly. They seemed to realize instantly that there was no room for compromise.
"Don't let him in!"
"Don't yield the initiative!"
Their swords were drawn in a flash. The movements of the five men were so perfectly synchronized they seemed as one.
The Jegal Clan's Three Methods Five Elements Sword Formation. It was a secret joint-attack formation that seamlessly combined all of their individual momentums into a single, overwhelming force.
A massive cloud of dust rose from beneath the feet of the rushing men. It swelled endlessly alongside an intangible wave of sword energy.
The young Commander of the Demonlight Wing did not care. He had already raised his wooden sword above his head. It was a high guard stance, pointing loftily toward the heavens.
He stomped his foot on the ground.
Thud!
From the leather boot that slammed into the earth, fine cracks spread out like a localized earthquake. A solid rebounding force surged back up from the sole of his foot.
Whoosh!
The Fa Jin, amplified by his stomp, manifested as a violent vibration in his wooden sword. His black robe began to whip wildly around him.
The speed at which the Fa Jin of his entire body converged into a single sword path was blindingly fast. A gale descended upon the raised wooden sword.
It took only a mere instant. The moment the boy's eyes narrowed, the brown blur of the wooden sword in his right hand fell, tearing the very atmosphere apart.
Boom—!
It was as if a fire bomb had exploded. Along with a shockwave that raged like a tempest, the wooden sword shattered and scattered into sawdust.
Blown away in all directions as if struck by a compressed typhoon, the martial artists crashed through several walls before collapsing into the rubble. Although none of them had been hit directly by the blade, not a single one of the sprawled figures could stand back up.
Only a couple of them, who possessed powerful Body Protection Qi, managed to gasp for breath, their faces pale with absolute horror.
The massive wall began to collapse.
Rumble—
A thick cloud of dust rose with a thunderous roar. The vibration shaking the ground beneath their feet felt like a surging tidal wave.
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin walked forward in silence, then glanced back at Jegal Cheong-a.
The girl's body flinched.
The eyes of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing glinted with a pitch-black intensity. On his bare left shoulder, exposed where the sleeve had been torn, thick veins bulged from the aftermath of channeling his internal power.
They throbbed violently. The black sleeve of his right arm hung down, contrasting sharply with his scarred left side.
This was the living, breathing power of a strategic weapon in a great sect war.
"Keep walking," the boy said.