Chapter 195: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 195: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (3)
"Your martial uncle must be getting old. I forgot to mention something important."
Perfected Heavenly Pillar looked down slightly at Yu-hyeon. They had just stepped out of the Rhyme-Fragrance Court, the residence of the Desolate Fortress envoys.
As their footsteps crunched softly against the loess earth, steeped in the crisp autumn air of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the martial uncle and nephew conversed in low, gentle tones.
"Ah... you said you had other business with Yeon-shin. Since you forgot, does that mean it's off?"
Yu-hyeon tilted his head, his pitch-black eyebrows arching in surprise.
His martial uncle, the Sword Absolute, was infamous for his strictness even within their own sect. He never forgot a task, and he held the disciples of the Mount Hua Sect to the same rigorous, unforgiving standards he set for himself.
To martial artists outside the sect, he was a lofty, noble swordsman. To those within, however, he was a living Yama.
'Once we return, I'll probably be ordered into closed-door cultivation. Especially since he actually crossed swords with Yeon-shin.'
The corners of Yu-hyeon's mouth drooped weakly.
His martial uncle had shown an exceptionally soft attitude toward Jeong Yeon-shin—something truly unprecedented. Earning the Sword Absolute's favor as a swordsman was no easy feat. It was said to be harder than finding a real plum blossom blooming on the barren, rocky peaks of Mount Hua.
If the lower-generation disciples of the main sect were to witness this, they would undoubtedly burn with jealousy. It was much like how Yu-hyeon himself had become the Sect Leader's disciple at a young age, only to end up alienated from his peers.
'Does the Desolate Fortress not care about seniority? He's even more absurd than I am, yet he seems to get along perfectly with his subordinates. Though it's ridiculous that those so-called subordinates are the White Qilin and the Lazy Flame Dragon.'
Noticing his martial nephew's sullen mood, the elder patted Yu-hyeon's head.
"Was the sword-tempering of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing not astonishing?"
Perfected Heavenly Pillar recalled the Flash Art. A bizarre boy. He was no longer the white-ranked warrior who had needed Ma Jin's protection in Xi'an.
He had improved so phenomenally that it was impossible to guess what kind of carnage he had waded through to reach this point.
Should the world consider it a blessing that such an incomprehensible talent belonged to the Desolate Fortress? Had he been born into the unorthodox sects, he would have become a source of endless terror for the entire martial world.
Yu-hyeon's pale face grew pouty.
"I know how to forge a double-edged blade, not just a single-edged one. I've already mastered the first ten forms of the Plum Blossom Sword Art."
"Can you still say that after witnessing the sword moves of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing? Wielding such a powerful shockwave is an extremely arduous task. You are ten years too early to attempt it."
"Yeon-shin does live several times faster than I do," Yu-hyeon muttered. "Still, I don't know if it's as much as ten times. Actually, I'd rather not know. It only hinders my progress and makes me impatient."
"Comparison breeds heart demons. If you silently accumulate your achievements, a sunset will one day bloom from your sword. Very good. You have grasped the profound meaning of wall-facing meditation. As soon as we return, refine the energy of the Purple Grace Pill within your body first. I shall prepare the Fasting Pills."
"Martial Uncle?"
They were an uncle and nephew of long standing. Only after exchanging a few more idle words did they finally arrive at the main point.
Yu-hyeon adjusted the white cap resting on his topknot. Expressing his inferiority complex regarding his friend's talent had somehow disheveled the very symbol of his Taoist identity.
"You were planning to tell Yeon-shin about the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect, weren't you?"
"Indeed."
Perfected Heavenly Pillar lightly caressed his flank. Watching this with shadowed eyes, Yu-hyeon spoke.
"Will he try to strike Zhongnan again? He acts as if he is the sole supreme being under heaven now..."
"The Qingcheng Sect Leader has passed away. Having crossed swords with him firsthand, I saw that he has tempered his swordplay with the laws of nature. Had we not been at the foot of our main mountain, it would have been my heart, not the Plum Blossom Sword Formation, that was severed. The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect has become a peerless swordsman capable of attempting anything, so our sect must prepare accordingly. The Hegemon Sword Sect will rise again... and a cold wind of blades will blow through Shaanxi."
The Sword Absolute's tone was heavier than ever before. Suddenly, Yu-hyeon glanced back toward the court.
"He is Yeon-shin's enemy. Should we go back now and—"
"It is better to tell him later. A swordsman facing a battle must hone his mind and body. I worry that news of his enemy might dull his blade instead."
"Ah." Yu-hyeon nodded in understanding, then paused. "They say a single strike from the Sword Saint can split a mountain peak... Well, a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress should at least be able to save face. It's not as if the Alliance Leader would use lethal moves anyway."
"The problem is my own woefully lacking martial arts," the young Taoist muttered self-deprecatingly before suddenly raising his head.
"More importantly, I heard the Tang Clan has finally arrived. Why did they arrive so late? Showing up only after the Sect Founding Ceremony has ended..."
"Sichuan Province is also in turmoil. I heard that the key experts of the Pure Demon Alliance were slain by the Flash Art, and the Lord of the Tenth Sect is in critical condition. For the Tang Clan to dominate Sichuan, overcoming the Dragon Slaying Alliance should have been enough... but recently, rumor has it that the alliance was integrated into a single faction called the Golden Wing Sect. The resistance must have been formidable. In truth, I do not understand why the Tang Clan Leader personally traveled all the way here to Hanzhong."
Right at that moment, Perfected Heavenly Pillar's eyes narrowed.
"Yu-hyeon."
"Yes?"
"From afar, the energy wave of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing is spreading like a tidal wave. Something must have happened."
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin moved forward with Jegal Cheong-a.
Time was running out.
It was said that the clan heads and other high-ranking figures would be away for less than half a shijin. Jegal Cheong-a did not even know their exact location.
She could only speculate that they might be at the top of the Blue Crane Pavilion, located in front of the alliance's main headquarters—a place where high-ranking figures, including Eon Hwa-ryeon, enjoyed their leisure in utmost secrecy.
A Desolate Fortress Unit Commander could not handle a clan head.
It was as clear as day. An undeniable fact.
Three Unit Commanders, who lingered at the very edge of the Black Rank, had previously joined forces to attack the Hwangbo Clan Head. Just as Jeong Yeon-shin had slain enemies of similar martial prowess in short, decisive battles, he could easily suffer the exact same fate in reverse.
It was said that experts nearing the Purple Rank acted as absolute overlords anywhere under heaven.
The Jegal Clan Leader and the Moyong Clan Head, who had watched the Sect Founding Ceremony from the sidelines due to their lofty status and seniority, looked down on the boy as an inferior.
Considering his age and standing, it was only natural.
'I must seize it before they arrive,' the boy thought.
If he failed to secure the body of the Azure Qilin in time, it would mean he had launched a preemptive strike against the Jegal Clan under a flimsy pretext. He would undoubtedly be cornered. Right now, Jeong Yeon-shin was trespassing into the deepest sanctuary of a noble family built within the alliance.
Even if the Jegal Clan Leader's fan severed the neck of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, no one could say a word.
Such was the law of the martial world.
After some martial artists designated as rebels escaped extermination through elusive Body Protection Scriptures, the Imperial Family had publicly drawn a line between themselves and the Desolate Fortress. To preserve the dignity of the imperial dynasty, the enemies of the Desolate Fortress were no longer officially considered rebels.
In the end, all that remained between the Jianghu and the Desolate Fortress was raw power. That was exactly why the Martial World Alliance had been formed.
Now that the alliance was established, if the heads of the Eight Families gathered together, they were more than capable of contending with the Desolate Fortress. Martial artists possessing both justification and martial prowess could achieve anything. This was no ordinary situation.
That was precisely why the leadership of the Desolate Fortress had dispatched the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing, a monster of unprecedented talent: to crush the morale of the Martial World Alliance before it could fully solidify.
Now, it was the final chapter.
A race against time.
Thud!
Dust plumed every time his feet kicked off the ground. Walls and pavilions flashed past like loosed arrows.
While sprinting, he also had to keep track of the crowd's shifting gazes. Even for a one-time mission, it was an incredibly daunting task.
Reason and anger tangled within him. Even as he laid rational thoughts at the foundation of his true qi circulation, he occasionally felt a violent surge of fury.
It felt as if a razor-sharp maple leaf had lodged itself in his mind.
A transparently ringing tinnitus, movements steeped in killing intent, anger carried on shockwaves, and an upper dantian flashing colder than reason itself.
"The front gate... it's an intruder...!"
"The young lady is with him!"
"Is she a hostage?"
"It's the Commander of the Demonlight Wing! Deploy to the utmost limit!"
Many blocked his light-speed dash. There were seven in the front row alone, with layers of others rushing in from behind.
A white crane was embroidered on the left breast of their green martial robes, and not a single one of them showed any sign of underestimating the boy.
The Worthy Heaven Unit of the Jegal Clan. A martial unit with an even mix of men and women. Each of them possessed an extraordinary glint in their eyes.
They were renowned for specializing in formation martial arts. They were the absolute elite of the noble family.
Whoosh!
An artificial wind rose from their bodies. It was a materialized wave of energy that billowed like clouds, brushing sharply against his skin.
Anyone could see that a profound formation had been activated. It was undoubtedly the famous Cloud White Severing Formation.
It was no ordinary formation. He had heard that instead of relying on mechanical traps or surrounding terrain, the unit members resonated their respective internal cultivation methods in specific directions. This simultaneously multiplied their martial power while suppressing their opponent's speed.
Ak Su-rim, the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress, had warned Jeong Yeon-shin about this before his departure.
"If they use some weird sword formation even after knowing the nature of your internal energy, don't just charge in blindly. Shave down their energy wave first. When I caused a ruckus at the main house and reached the Blue Rank, I tried to show off against those unlucky Jegal bastards and almost crossed the Sanzu River all by myself. Don't do that. They are incredibly cheap. Their joint attacks are absolute garbage."
It felt as if his senior, whose speech and behavior had seemingly undergone rejuvenation, was chattering right in his ear.
A martial unit that served as the face of a noble family was of the same caliber as the squads under the Divine Sword Corps.
It was a formidable force. Anyone would agree that they could hold back a Black Rank expert, even if only for a moment.
But he could not allow them even that moment.
'Fast.'
Shaving down an opponent's energy wave was a very vague concept, and the means to do so were exceedingly rare. However, Jeong Yeon-shin possessed the perfect method.
Whoosh!
A pitch-black gale wrapped around the hem of his black martial robes. The halo qi, which had rushed down into the fine meridians of his legs, scattered into light at the Zhongdu point on the side of his calf.
In an instant, the three acupoints around his ankle bones were clad in invisible armor.
The Release Formula. The footwork born from the wine cup of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress sprouted forth.
'Radiant Wing Second Step.'
Thump!
It was a step that pierced through their momentum to forcefully create a combat interval. A wave of qi rippled outward, centering on his planted foot.
A colorless wave shoved the air back. It was a split second.
It crashed into the dense energy waves emitted by the seven martial artists, unraveling their qi in all directions as if spinning a spool in reverse.
The principles of formations were profound. A unified resonance from each axis was what brought forth its efficacy.
This was especially true for highly synchronized arrays like the Worthy Heaven Unit's Cloud White Severing Formation. Thus, the moment their resonance was disrupted, their power scattered.
The pine needles that had been suspended in the air above their heads began to drift down like downy feathers.
They were now ten steps away from the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
"..."
The Worthy Heaven Unit of the Jegal Clan. Though their eyebrows twitched and their mouths parted slightly in surprise, they did not halt their charge.
Was this the strength of a noble family? Their spirit as retainers was formidable. They rushed forward like a neatly honed, freezing wind.
The dust rising with each of their steps was transparent—the mark of a highly refined Body Protection Scripture.
Their individual skill remained completely intact. The axis of the formation seemed ready to realign at any moment. Pine needles scattered and rose once more, caught in the surging energy wave blooming from among them.
Ideally, the formation would be fully restored right before colliding with Jeong Yeon-shin. But even if it wasn't, they were fiercely determined to defend their territory.
If they hesitated, their movements would only tangle with their comrades rushing in from behind.
'It's fine,' the boy thought.
The truly terrifying threat was the Jegal Clan Leader, who would soon return.
The small escort force that had secretly followed from the Desolate Fortress to ensure the youngest Unit Commander's safety had not stepped forward, even when Jeong Yeon-shin faced the forces of the Deep Martial Alliance.
However, facing a clan head would be entirely different.
If things went wrong, it could easily escalate into a Great Sect War, completely ruining his original intentions. He had to end this before the situation became too complicated.
'Wind God Movement Technique.'
Crack!
Using his internal power, he violently tightened his extensor hallucis longus muscle, stretching the tension from the tips of his toes all the way up his calves.
The fine muscles of his entire body rapidly contracted and expanded. Fallen leaves swirled violently beneath his feet.
The moment a strong wind brushed past his eyelids, the faces of the Worthy Heaven Unit warriors suddenly loomed large. He had closed the distance in a flash.
It was before the Cloud White Severing Formation could even be restored. In an instant, Jegal Cheong-a was left far behind, relegated to the ranks of the onlookers.
"Draw swords!" the Worthy Heaven Unit expert at the front shouted, her voice ringing like a battle cry.
Even though she had not yet fully concealed the shock on her slender face, she leaped gracefully and thrust her blade forward.
Her back leg extended, forming a perfect straight line with her sword. Using her own body as an arrow, she forged the shockwave of her strike into a single, deadly stream. It was the posture of the Unity of Body and Sword, deeply and masterfully refined.
Shatter!
The enemy ranks, previously spread to the left and right, closed in like the folding wings of a phoenix.
Even without the profound principles of their formation, they launched a joint attack with extraordinary, suffocating spacing. Pine needles and maple leaves were cleanly split by the tips of the narrow-bladed swords thrusting toward him.
The shockwaves of their thrusts rustled like dry leaves in a storm. The air rang with a bleak, killing chill.
There was no carelessness in their eyes. It was a once-in-a-lifetime strike.
Within the sense of qi in his upper dantian, which continued to accelerate like a beam of light, the boy realized something anew.
He had now made his name known to the entire world.
He was no longer just a rising star who had made a name for himself in the Clear Night Valley of Southern Zhili, nor was he merely a rising expert hailed as a king within the closed-off borders of Sichuan Province.
He had entered the true, unforgiving realm of the Jianghu martial world here in the land of Hanzhong.
He was now a supreme expert watched by the entire world.
The world's mountain of blades and forest of swords would no longer view the boy as just a boy. Just as they would show courtesy to a grandmaster, even his inferiors would now risk their very lives against him.
Strongmen capable of contending with the Black Rank would prepare their ultimate killing moves from the very beginning. With his triumph at the Sect Founding Ceremony marking a turning point, he could no longer hope for luck.
If he did not face this mountain of blades and forest of swords—all frantic to kill the Commander of the Demonlight Wing—with everything he had, he would die just like the adversaries he had slain so far.
The sword of the Worthy Heaven Unit expert rushing before his eyes proved as much. He could feel the texture of the air being fiercely sliced apart against his skin.
'Infinite Flower of Time Hand.'
The boy implanted his halo qi into the Tianzong point of his right shoulder blade. He did this while simultaneously contracting his upper arm muscles.
It was the exact moment the microscopic movements of his muscles and fine meridians perfectly amplified the power of his internal energy. A violent explosion of internal power erupted.
Behind his back, the Law-Transcending Halo Qi detonated like a Thunderbolt Bomb. Jeong Yeon-shin's right fist tore through the air.
He charged sideways, accompanied by a fist shockwave that roared past his ears.
Second Form: Advancing Thunder.
Clang—!
The fist strike surged forward, swallowing even its own recoil. The shattered fragments of the enemy's sword mingled into the gale.
Sunlight, reflecting in all directions off the spinning iron shards, swept over the face of the Worthy Heaven Unit expert.
Caught in midair, she tumbled away in a twisted trajectory like a falling leaf. She gasped for air, her breath knocked away as if her sternum had been crushed by the direct hit of the explosive force. She had completely failed to withstand the aftermath of the Advancing Thunder.
The boy did not pause, even upon hearing her shrill cry. Joint sword strikes, perfectly synchronized within a single breath, were already rushing in. Three from the left, three from the right.
It was indeed a formation specialized in hunting down experts of high martial prowess. It was too late to dodge.
There was no sign of triumph on their faces. Their expressions as they closed in and swung their swords were utterly indifferent, cold as ice.
Even at a glance, it was clear they were exerting all their might to ensure absolutely no gaps appeared in their sword momentum.
The boy unclenched the fist he had just thrust forward.
The moment he spread his five fingers, the shattered sword fragments that had been falling and scattering light suddenly froze in midair.
The aligned acupoints of his palm—the Shaofu, Laogong, and Zhongzi points—instantly grew searingly hot. The Absorption and Release Formulas achieved an exquisite, terrifying balance.
'If the Jianghu treats me fully as the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, then I, too, shall act loftily as the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.'
Myriad Blossoms Rain.
It was a brutal clash where the elite of the Jegal Clan and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing collided without taking a single step back. True to his title, the Flash Art's steps were carved alongside brilliant, blinding streaks of light.