Chapter 197: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 197: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (5)
“It’s been a while, Flash Art.” A light, delicate hand patted his shoulder. “I was watching the whole time… You looked quite dashing during the Sect Founding Ceremony. I almost fell for you, you know?”
The speaker was Ak Su-rim, a girl in a black robe with short hair that just touched the nape of her neck.
Her eyes met Jeong Yeon-shin’s. Having undergone Rejuvenation, the great senior’s eyes sparkled like black jewels.
“I was watching so hard my eyes nearly popped out, especially when you were with the Sword Ghost. And eye techniques aren’t even my specialty. In any case, I couldn’t just let this go. It was far too dangerous.”
As she finished speaking, she turned to face the Jegal Clan Leader.
Their transparent gazes locked.
Ak Su-rim was rumored to be the strongest expert in the Desolate Fortress, second only to the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. The Jegal Clan Leader, on the other hand, had masterminded the Martial World Alliance and placed his clan on a solid foundation. Which of them was superior? It was a confrontation the entire Jianghu would watch with bated breath.
Boom!
Just then, a mountain of a man who had demolished no fewer than seven pavilions to get here came to a stop on Jeong Yeon-shin’s left. His presence was overwhelming.
He didn’t look like one of the Brightfolk, yet his ears were as pointed as any pure-blood’s. His hair was slicked back, revealing a broad forehead and an exceptionally handsome face. His eyes, looking down at the boy, held a deep curiosity.
“So you are the Flash Art. I am Wi-jin of the Desolate Hahu Clan.”
His voice was as massive as his physique, seeming to resonate from the depths of his being. The internal power infused into his words was staggering; each syllable vibrated inside Jeong Yeon-shin’s skull. Was this the power of a long-lived Brightfolk who had never once neglected his True Qi breathing?
The Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer, Hahu Wi-jin.
He was famous as the leader of the Forest-Treading Unit and a trusted confidant of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. As a Unit Commander, he also wore a black robe. Standing a full three heads taller than Jeong Yeon-shin, the robe looked more like a cape on his immense frame.
Jeong Yeon-shin briefly clasped his hands in greeting.
“Greetings, Senior Hahu. I am Jeong Yeon-shin of Xinye County.”
They kept their introductions brief. A peerless master stood right before them.
Ak Su-rim glanced askance at the Jegal Clan Leader and spoke. “The Tang Clan Leader, who reveres our Flash Art as his master, will be here soon. We just need to thoroughly crush Moyong and Jegal. I don’t think it’ll be that hard. This crude Alliance of yours is still incomplete, after all.”
She spoke with a beaming smile, her voice as cheerful as a chirping skylark, instantly lightening the heavy atmosphere.
Ak Su-rim folded her smooth fingers one by one.
“Let’s see… with me, the Tang Clan Leader, this big guy, and our Flash Art, we should have no problem hitting a pale fellow like you and that Moyong idiot before running, right? Our swordplay and footwork are on a completely different level than your pathetic subordinates. And from the looks of it, that Moyong fellow is staying put even though he knows everything, isn’t he? Look at his energy. He hasn’t budged an inch.”
The corners of her mouth curled upward.
“There must be something in there he doesn’t want anyone to see, but it seems he’s washed his hands of you the moment he sensed us.”
She spoke of the Jegal Clan Leader and the Moyong Clan Head with shocking audacity, yet it was no exaggeration.
Jeong Yeon-shin could already sense two powerful energies approaching at terrifying speed. He recognized their deep, profound internal signatures.
The Tang Clan Leader and the Perfected Heavenly Pillar. After such a massive commotion, it was only natural they would notice something was wrong. It was also obvious whose side they would take upon arrival.
The Alliance Leader, however, remained neutral. His failure to appear even now was proof enough. The Sword Saint, Hyeon So-baek, was a peerless master revered as an immortal by the common people. Despite his rogue origins, he had repeatedly demonstrated transcendent abilities. It was impossible to fathom the reach of his Qi sense. He must have noticed the situation with the Azure Qilin the moment the Commander of the Demonlight Wing caused a disturbance.
But given the anguish he’d expressed to Jeong Yeon-shin about normalizing the Orthodox Factions, the strongest master in Hanzhong would not intervene. As the leader of the Martial World Alliance, he couldn’t side with the Desolate Fortress, but neither would he lend his support to the Jegal Clan Leader.
Under these circumstances, Ak Su-rim and Hahu Wi-jin had a single purpose: to protect the Flash Art. Though they had arrived prepared for war, it was best to avoid unnecessary combat. They were deep inside the largest enemy territory in the world. As long as the Jegal Clan Leader didn’t try to break through them, they had no reason to harm him.
It was enough to simply watch his downfall.
“The Desolate Fortress shouldn’t have any forces to spare these days…” the Jegal Clan Leader spoke quietly. Whatever he was feeling, he kept it hidden from his face. Though he maintained a composed demeanor, fanning his lips, everyone present knew it was a bluff.
Ak Su-rim casually swept back the ebony hair that fell past her ears. She then massaged her pale neck in a relaxed, almost boisterous manner, her bold yet beautiful demeanor exuding an air of absolute freedom.
“Anyone can see our Flash Art is the future of the Desolate Fortress. Did you think the fortress would just sit back and watch after sending our treasure over to your side? Do you take us for idiots?”
Even in the face of her blunt sarcasm, the Jegal Clan Leader offered no reply. The strongest Black Rank expert of the Desolate Fortress was more than capable of contending with the heads of the great clans. It was said that the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress had elevated the Ak Family Spear to an entirely new realm, and it was no exaggeration. Meanwhile, the fist techniques of the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer were rumored to split hills. The Tang Clan Leader and the Sword Absolute were also renowned supreme masters.
Furthermore, the commotion Jeong Yeon-shin had caused was immense. He had torn down the walls of the Jegal Clan’s estate and unleashed his Brilliant River. The Martial World Alliance was filled with individuals possessing the sharp senses of the Jianghu’s elite. A massive crowd was already flocking to the scene.
Everything was working against the Jegal Clan Leader. Even if he was concerned about the pavilion containing the Azure Qilin’s corpse, he couldn’t afford to look away with the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress and the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer standing before him.
The Jegal Clan Leader stood elegantly on the roof, doing nothing at all.
Slowly, Jeong Yeon-shin composed himself. He adjusted his single right sleeve, brushed the dust from his clothes, and felt once again the immense scale of the protective shield that was the Desolate Fortress.
Now, he had to see the deceased. Jegal Cheong-a, who had been trembling in helplessness, followed closely behind him. Her expression was filled with resolve. She intended to utterly demolish the Jegal Clan Leader's reputation within the Orthodox Factions once and for all.
“Commander of the Demonlight Wing,” the Jegal Clan Leader called out in a calm voice.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t look back. He kept walking.
A voice as clear as the legendary Zhuge Liang’s continued, “Such reckless behavior, showing no regard for heaven or earth, is unwise. It will only lead to an early grave in a foreign land. Even a flower without peer in a thousand years is meaningless if it fails to bloom. No matter how unprecedented your talent, the strong will not look upon you kindly.”
“Your kind never thinks to look at things from the other side,” Jeong Yeon-shin said, taking another step. “The Alliance has offended me. Remember this day. Bring it up again in two years.”
His words were met with a heavy silence. It was a chilling warning. A genius who moved at a speed unmatched in the world had just made a promise for the future. To any true master, it was a statement that would send shivers down their spine.
The moment the master holding the White Crane Fan fell silent…
“Bwahahaha!”
“Quite the arrogant one, aren’t you!”
Hahu Wi-jin’s laughter stirred a gust of wind. It wasn’t merely hearty; it roared like a wild gale. Jeong Yeon-shin almost shielded his eardrums with his Law-Transcending Halo Qi but managed to restrain himself as he stepped inside the pavilion.
He was accompanied by Jegal Cheong-a, whose breathing was shallow and rapid.
Behind them, countless presences surged forward. Martial artists called out to one another, asking what was happening. Rising stars, including the Small Sword Empress, rushed over in a single breath. The Perfected Heavenly Pillar had already arrived. He could even feel the energy of Heonwon Chang, closely trailing the Tang Clan Leader.
A massive commotion was spreading like wildfire.
“How could this happen…?”
“Even if the Commander of the Demonlight Wing dominated the Sect Founding Ceremony, is it right for the Desolate Fortress to act so irrationally?”
“The Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress?!”
“That black uniform, that stature, a member of the Brightfolk… Is that the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer?”
“Commander of the Demonlight Wing! Why have you committed such an outrageous act?”
The confused voice of the Lord of the Verdant Overflow Sect rang out. He and his disciples had exchanged blows with Jeong Yeon-shin early in their visit to the Alliance. He was a figure who adorned the first few pages of the Compendium of Crushing the Righteous. Though he had arrived aggressively, he had departed with a smile, saying he had received guidance from Jeong Yeon-shin. His presence proved that more than a few within the Alliance held goodwill toward the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
The number of people gathering behind them swelled to several hundred. Some leaped over the high walls in a single bound, some ran across rooftops, some sat with their feet propped on pavilion railings, and others stood tall on the roof opposite the Jegal Clan Leader.
“He was always that kind of person. With that level of martial skill at his age… and as the direct disciple of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. Wouldn’t the world look like his personal playground? He cloaks himself in the noble cause of the common people, but he doesn’t truly understand the Murim.”
“Has his arrogance grown so great that he now points his sword at the vanguard of the Alliance? There must be a limit to such insolence!”
“Does the Desolate Fortress truly see the Orthodox Factions as no different from the Heterodox Sects? Our Samrak Sect has stood with the will of the people since its founding! Not everyone is like the Hwangbo Clan!”
Hostility spread like a brushfire. The Jegal Clan was the heart of the Martial World Alliance. Seeing a martial artist from another faction violate Jegal territory at the Alliance headquarters, they couldn’t help but be infuriated by the ruins Jeong Yeon-shin had left in his wake.
The atmosphere was ominous. Soon, the sound of blades being drawn and humming with internal energy filled the air.
Screech! Clang!
Even after seeing Ak Su-rim and Hahu Wi-jin, many were preparing for battle.
Ak Ye-rim, who had just arrived, was no exception. Her long, dark braid swayed as the energy rising from her body caused her white, egret-wing-like clothes to flutter. She held a spear in both hands. She was startled for only a moment upon seeing her aunt, Ak Su-rim, who looked younger than her.
She had come after hearing that the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was on a rampage, but the sight of the devastated pavilions, far worse than she had imagined, chilled her to the bone.
‘I thought he was different… that my prejudice had been excessive. I was ashamed…’
Here in Hanzhong, the home of the Martial World Alliance, the one tasked with subjugating the Deep Martial Alliance was the Desolate Fortress’s Commander of the Demonlight Wing. He hadn’t refused, even though it meant facing another enemy deep in hostile territory. Before the battle against the Deep Martial Alliance on West Peak Road, she had even heard his inner thoughts. The Flash Art had killed a worthy rival and was suppressing his own spirit. When Seon-ryong Jegal Hyeon’s advice had unraveled those feelings, he had revealed a fast sword style reminiscent of the Imperial Sword Form.
Afterward, she had seen a reflection of herself in the Alliance’s decision to move up the Sect Founding Ceremony—an attitude born of narrow-mindedness, stubbornness, and the belief that anything is permissible as long as you think you’re in the right. She had even stopped Eon Hwa-ryeon from reading the counter-methods to the Flash Art’s techniques that they had received from the Jegal Clan Leader.
Because it was disgusting.
But the scene unfolding before her now…
‘Now, I don’t know anything anymore.’
Frowning deeply, Ak Ye-rim squeezed her eyes shut. What was right, and what was wrong? What kind of person was the Flash Art, really? Among the Worthy Heaven Unit martial artists groaning in the distance were friends she had grown close to.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who had entered the small pavilion, showed no sign of coming out.
“Explain why you have committed such an outrage!”
“Is the Desolate Fortress plotting against the Alliance?”
The air grew hot. Places where internal masters gathered were often filled with Fervent Yang Energy, an unintentional byproduct of their power. The moment they raised their internal energy, their auras clashed. In group battles, the stronger one's internal power, the more refined their Body Protection Qi had to be.
“Shouldn’t you deal with the Thirteen Heavens first if you want your cause to have any weight?!”
“Flash Art, come out and speak for yourself! Why did you sneak into the Jegal Clan’s quarters?”
Anger bred heat, and the Fervent Yang Energy fueled their wrath. The melting pot of energy, which seemed ready to explode at any moment, was gradually expanding. This was the Martial World Alliance. Anyone carrying a weapon here was a master in their own right.
Yet, the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress, Ak Su-rim, seemed to fear nothing.
“Chirp, chirp, how noisy. Even the Jegal Clan Leader doesn’t dare attack for fear of getting hurt, yet you so-called martial artists are all talk.”
“How dare you be so insolent in the Alliance of the Orthodox Factions!”
The moment she parted her lips, some of the martial artists’ shouts died in their throats.
“When three Black Ranks have gathered.”
Standing with her weight on one leg, Ak Su-rim casually put her hands behind her back. She replied with a smirk, but the spear held loosely behind her flashed with the brilliance of internal power. Her attitude, like that of a back-alley thug, suited her strangely well.
“You don’t seem to understand what this means, do you? Right now, this place is also the Desolate Fortress.”
With the face of a girl who looked barely fifteen, she sneered at the assembled heroes. She wasn’t striking first, but she was practically pouring oil on the fire. Such was Ak Su-rim’s nature. She was the type to smile mockingly even when pushed to the very edge of a cliff. Her lofty martial arts, combined with her unconventional temperament, had earned her the title of the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress.
The resentment grew louder. Jeers unbefitting of the gathering rang out. Some Alliance masters began to fully hone their sword waves. It was a touch-and-go situation. A battle of unprecedented scale was on the verge of breaking out.
“Insignificant clans babbling endlessly! How utterly contemptible! You insects, I want to crush every last one of you to death!”
Clang! Clang!
Hahu Wi-jin slammed his fists together. Colorless fragments of internal energy shattered and fell to the ground—True Qi materialized through sheer force.
Just as some of the heroes flinched at the sight, a clear testament to the prowess of the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer…
Step.
The pitch-black hem of a robe drifted forward, parting the powerful fragments of force like flower petals. It moved with the sound of silent footsteps.
Carried by the wind, the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing suddenly appeared.
“…”
The eyes of the crowd widened.
The boy was cradling a young man of outstanding beauty in his arms. The complexion of Namgung Se-jin, whose eyes were peacefully closed, was filled with a vitality uncharacteristic of a corpse. It was a state that could not exist unless some art had been applied.
“Ah…”
Ak Ye-rim covered her mouth, suppressing a gasp as her eyes turned red.
A few quick-witted individuals seemed to grasp the situation instantly. Low groans escaped from all around. The Azure Qilin was a famous figure in the Orthodox Jianghu. From the rising stars to the established masters, many knew his face.
Moyong Myeong-jun quietly slipped away and vanished. Gongson Min’s mouth hung open. The Small Sword Empress and Yu-hyeon had similar reactions. The Lazy Flame Dragon, who had been crouching on a wall watching the pavilion, wore a bitter expression upon seeing the state of his old friend.
The face of Seon-ryong Jegal Hyeon, who arrived late, was a mask of absolute chaos.
Astonishment and doubt swelled, and the clamor of the crowd grew even louder.
“Why is the Azure Qilin in the Jegal Clan’s pavilion?”
“Why is a corpse that should be buried so perfectly preserved…?!”
The Jegal Clan Leader took no action. He was pinned in place by the watchful gazes of the Desolate Fortress’s supreme masters. He could not expect help from the Alliance Leader, who refused to show himself, nor from the Moyong Clan Head, who had quickly grasped the situation and fled.
‘I am cornered. Must I now live as a rogue?’ he thought calmly.
The corpse of the Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin, brought out from this very place, was evidence too clear to deny. The defenses of the Jegal Clan’s territory had been ironclad; the commotion the Flash Art had caused proved as much. The same went for the traces of the Maoshan Sect lingering on the Azure Qilin’s body. Any senior with even a slight understanding of sorcery would recognize its origin, and it wouldn’t take long to trace the connection between the Maoshan Sect of Southern Zhili, the Namgung Clan, and the Jegal Clan.
That was why he had tried to prevent this. His failure to account for the Desolate Fortress’s extreme measures was his downfall.
To make matters worse, Jegal Cheong-a’s testimony was the final blow. It was the climax of the finale. Swallowing lightly, the girl stepped forward to make the series of events public.
“As all you heroes know, I am a mere nobody called the Serene Deep Eye, serving as the eyes of the Jegal Clan.”
Her clear, resonant voice carried the weight of the entire truth as she calmly continued her account.
She spoke of the Elder Council Head, the last direct survivor of the Namgung Clan. She revealed the story of the Flash Art, Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been sent to the Alliance as an envoy from the Desolate Fortress. She laid bare her own father's decision, his inability to concede to the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing, and finally, the Commander's own actions—how he had willingly stepped forward the moment he heard her plea.
With every word, their shock deepened. It was a tale that could only be met with stunned silence.
"What on earth..."
"The world will laugh at the Alliance..."
The crowd’s gazes, which hadn't dared to meet the absolute master holding the White Crane Fan, slowly lifted from Namgung Se-jin's corpse.
Instead, countless eyes fixed upon the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
He had single-handedly broken through a great clan's formation. He had charged forward to retrieve the body of a man he knew only as an enemy. He had not hesitated to clash with a major power in the very heart of the Alliance.
The expressions of the Alliance's heroes began to soften. The anger and righteous determination that had once colored their faces now gave way to shame.
They were the Orthodox Factions. The Lord of the Samrak Sect had been right—not everyone in the Jianghu was rotten.
Then, from the side, a new voice emerged.
Heonwon Chang, who had been standing beside the Desolate Fortress's Flash Art, spoke up.
As if composing a verse on the spot, a short, dirge-like melody flowed from his lips. His voice was clear and resonant.
A youth's moment is worth a thousand gold,
Yet his rival is forever bound within his sword.
"..."
Everyone present knew the history between the Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Clan.
A tidal wave of silence washed over the crowd of hundreds. The sudden stillness transformed the scene into something like a magnificent, unmoving landscape painting.
What emotions stirred within each of them? In a gathering of such masters, the complexities of the human heart were impossible to fathom.
The venue, filled with masters of every stripe, was enveloped in a roiling cloud of their collective energies. Amidst this charged atmosphere, Heonwon Chang spoke again, his voice cutting through the tension.
"Now, get lost."