Chapter 200: Demonlight Wing
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 200: Demonlight Wing
Jeong Jung-san dressed in his martial robes and descended the mountain.
The crisp, yellow robes suited him quite well. With his sharp, defined features, he carried the distinct air of a martial artist.
By now, quite a few people recognized him even at the foot of Mount Zhongnan.
He had grown more accustomed to his identity as an initiate disciple of the Zhongnan Sect than as the second son of the Jeong Family Manor. His days had been filled with devoted training.
Three months ago, he had finally been relieved of his duty of personally serving the Zhongnan Sword Immortal.
"You have grasped the basics. Since you are no longer a useless freeloader, you may go down now."
This happened after he mastered the first half of the Great Unity Formless Sword. He had immersed himself in training to the point where he could execute the sword forms flawlessly even with his eyes closed.
It was all because of the rumors about his half-brother that reached his ears, even when he wasn't trying to listen.
Every time he went down the mountain, he encountered unbelievable rumors.
"I heard some boy stepped forward in the duel between the Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Clan."
"They say the Azure Qilin is dead? How tragic and shocking. Doesn't that mean a rising star surpassing Namgung Se-jin has appeared?"
The news of the Namgung Young Master's death had reached him first.
He was someone they would have revered like a god had they met him at the Jeong Family Manor—a young master often compared to the Sword Dragon, Wiji Myo-hwa.
The news that he had lost his life to none other than Jeong Yeon-shin had swept all the way to Xi'an.
He had once reunited with his younger brother, who had become a White Rank of the Desolate Fortress. It had been hard to believe even then.
Yet, he couldn't simply turn a blind eye and deny it.
He had witnessed the martial prowess and talent of the brother he had once despised. The sword strike that severed the head of the Eight-Fanged Rakshasa Sword was the work of an extraordinary genius.
Even if he had joined forces with outstanding masters like the Sword Dragon, the Pacifying Fist, and the Cliff-Severing Sword, it did not diminish his achievement.
He had always known his brother's name would shake the Jianghu one day. It had simply happened much sooner than expected.
As time passed, even those rumors paled in comparison to what followed.
"Some merchants from a caravan out of Sichuan told a strange tale. They said the Tenth Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance have practically been ruined, so the volume of cargo has plummeted..."
"It's easy to see how much the extravagance of those big unorthodox sects boosted local trade. Wasn't it all squeezed from the blood and sweat of the common people? Only the traveling merchants moving between cities are whining; the praises of the common folk must have echoed through every valley in Sichuan."
"So many top-tier masters have died. The Ominous Sword of the Tenth Sect fell to the Tang Clan Leader, while the Pure Demon God Hand, the Sword Scorpion Demon, and the Blade-Fist Demon were slain by the Desolate Fortress's Flash Art. They say the Sichuan Jianghu is undergoing a massive upheaval..."
"The Flash Art? Isn't that the boy who fought fiercely against the Azure Qilin? It must be a wild rumor."
"Well... they say he is now the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, so it's likely true. The movements of the Desolate Fortress's youngest Unit Commander are quite distinct. Any merchant group of a decent size is well-informed, often showing better judgment than most Jianghu sects."
"Even so, how can anyone believe that? Unless you're from Huguang or Sichuan... even a three-year-old child knows how difficult it is to raise one's martial arts. The Desolate Fortress must have just made an outstanding rising star their figurehead."
"Well, let's wait and see. There are rumors that the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was at the Martial World Alliance's Sect Founding Ceremony."
This was the conversation drifting from the marketplace of Xi'an.
It was a bustling street.
Xi'an, situated at the foot of Mount Zhongnan, was a massive city. It teemed with people, starting with the endless processions of merchant groups and escort agencies transporting cargo.
There were merchants chatting amongst themselves behind their stalls, waiters casually strolling out of inns to prop open the doors, and rogue cultivators wandering about to pick up rumors.
Although many shops had closed due to the famine, the city was still lively.
Among them, men standing with their hands clasped behind their backs on one side of the market street were discussing the state of the Jianghu.
Their attire was far from ordinary—neat robes of green and blue. They were the owner and tailor of a drapery shop that was quite well-known in Xi'an.
'It is surely no wild rumor.'
Jeong Jung-san, who had stopped in his tracks, felt tempted to snap at the drapery shop owner for calling it a wild rumor, but held himself back.
He felt too ashamed to act like an older brother now. Their statuses were also worlds apart: an initiate disciple of the Zhongnan Sect versus the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress.
He felt a heavy debt of gratitude toward Jeong Yeon-shin. As a benefactor of the Zhongnan Sect, his brother had restored both his and his nephew's pride.
He ought to stand up for his younger brother, but his own childhood self flickered before his eyes.
It was a memory that utterly crushed the dignity of the Zhongnan disciple, Jeong Jung-san.
'Damn it.'
It had been about seven years ago, but it still felt like yesterday.
During a village feast hosted by the Jeong Family Manor, he had kicked the hand of a young boy holding a bowl of noodles in a corner, harshly telling him to go back to his room.
"Do you want to join in? You look so pathetic, slinking around like that, my foot moved on its own. Go practice some trash art instead. What was it called, the Jeong Family Dynamic Art...?"
Jeong Jung-san remembered his own words and actions vividly.
The other village children of his age had jeered along behind him. They did so because they knew the direct line of the Jeong Family Manor despised the third son.
That must have been Jeong Yeon-shin's tenth birthday.
Their father had claimed that the earthly energy of Xinye County was needed to dispel the misfortune of the child who had killed his own mother.
On his son's tenth birthday, the father had gathered the villagers to pray for the peace and prosperity of the fields.
The people of Xinye County, having stuffed themselves with free meat and alcohol, happily sang the praises of the Jeong Family Head.
Jeong Jung-san, who played the neighborhood ringleader among the village children, had been no different.
And that was merely a single glimpse.
Similar, or even worse, incidents had occurred frequently.
Now, that past had become a hellish source of regret.
The more he absorbed the solemn teachings of Zhongnan's martial arts, the greater Jeong Jung-san's guilt and shame grew.
The people of Xinye County must also be trembling in anxiety, wondering when the Desolate Fortress's Unit Commander might pass through their village.
"They say the Hwangbo Clan's Young Master assists the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, so perhaps a significant portion of the achievements belongs to the Lazy Flame Dragon? Even if the Flash Art is truly the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, their experience and age are on completely different levels, after all."
"I told you to wait and see, yet you keep going on. Do you have some sort of grudge against the rising master?"
Regardless of Jeong Jung-san's inner turmoil, the drapery merchants continued to gossip about the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who was being discussed as the strongest of his generation.
Rumors of the Jianghu were a source of great entertainment for the common folk.
Who was stronger, what feats had been accomplished, which martial art was worthy of being called the best in the region...
Just then.
The drapery merchant clad in green suddenly collapsed.
His neatly woven grass-green robes kicked up a cloud of dust. At the same time, a woman's chilling voice rang out.
"There is no exaggeration in the rumors of the Flash Art, Commander of the Demonlight Wing."
The voice had come from right beside Jeong Jung-san. Had she shot a finger force at the shop owner?
The moment he registered her presence, the tailor's terrified gasp was the last thing Jeong Jung-san heard before his consciousness faded. A faint prickling sensation stung the back of his neck.
He had helplessly allowed his sleep acupoint to be struck. Even though he possessed the true qi of the Zhongnan Sect's Great Unity Heart Art, a heavy drowsiness instantly washed over him.
"Shopkeeper! No! I-I beg your forgiveness! I failed to recognize a master...!"
The sight of the tailor frantically bowing narrowed to a slit. Soon, darkness enveloped Jeong Jung-san's vision.
As he stumbled, losing his balance for a moment, an icy sensation gripped his forearm.
It was an utterly inhuman touch. A firm, unyielding grip had seized him roughly.
It was the touch of a supreme master. Though his mind was fading, terror flared up like a wildfire.
'The Hegemon Sword Sect...?'
The second son of the Jeong Family Manor thought. Rumors had been circulating that the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect was marching north.
Jeong Jung-san had been on his way to place an order with a grain merchant on the orders of the Zhongnan Sect's leadership. Perhaps the Hegemon Sword Sect had arrived before his sect could even finish stockpiling provisions.
With that faint speculation, his consciousness skipped through time. At some point, the sensation against his back changed.
As if he had been dragged into some back alley, the noise of the Xi'an marketplace now sounded distant.
Thwack!
An impact on his cheek shot straight to the crown of his head. It felt as though he had been backhanded.
Though winter was still far off, a freezing sensation spread through him as if he had been buried in snow.
"Wake up."
The speaker did not treat Jeong Jung-san with gentle methods. With a single gesture, his consciousness snapped into sharp focus.
It was a terrifying display of true qi manipulation. She seemed to have momentarily used a small amount of internal energy to stimulate Jeong Jung-san's mind.
"Ah..."
As he opened his eyes with a dazed groan, the tips of short, grey hair tickled his field of vision.
At her waist, a pitch-black sword hilt exuded a terrifying presence.
It seemed to literally absorb the darkness, a testament to how long it had harbored profound internal power. It was a Divine Sword imbued with its master's spirituality.
She...
Her very aura was on a different level. It pricked Jeong Jung-san's skin as if it had taken physical form.
She had to be a powerhouse rarely seen in the world. He could think of no other origin for her than the Nine Sects, the Eight Families, or the Thirteen Heavens.
The person who had abducted him by force was a supreme master who walked among the heavens.
"Are you Jeong Jung-san, son of Jeong Dae-myung? If you lie, I will subject you to the Muscle-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating Technique."
Her voice was like frost overlaying autumn sunlight, sending a cold shiver down his spine.
The Muscle-Splitting and Bone-Dislocating Technique of a supreme master was an incredibly profound torture method, rare even under heaven. It was said to make one truly feel their bones and flesh tearing apart.
And because one's consciousness was kept awake by true qi, there was no escaping the pain through fainting.
'Crazy...!'
A hostile supreme master was looking down at him in a market alley.
The panic that slowly welled up quickly escalated into sheer terror, squeezing his mind.
"...Yes, I am."
Jeong Jung-san squeezed the words out of his throat.
"You do resemble him slightly..."
The woman's voice trailed off. A look of doubt flickered across her face as she stared down at him.
Bloodlines are truly mysterious, she muttered to herself before speaking again.
"I command you: tell me everything you know about the childhood of the Flash Art, Jeong Yeon-shin."
* * *
It was a day of brilliant, blue sunlight. The Desolate Fortress delegation, which had grown more than tenfold, stood beneath the clear, transparent sky.
The Forest-Treading Unit outnumbered the Demonlight Wing, and those who had come to see them off were even more numerous.
Among them were those who had sought to observe the martial arts of the Flash Art under the orders of the Jegal Clan Leader.
Jeong Yeon-shin had earnestly accepted their challenges to duels in order to closely examine their martial arts.
Even after providing material to fill the pages of the Compendium of Crushing the Righteous, they still showed goodwill toward the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
His status as a Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress commanded such respect. He was seen as someone who remained humble despite holding a lofty position.
Many masters, including the Lord of the Verdant Overflow Sect of Fujian and Seop Un-cheol—his first opponent in the Sect Founding Ceremony—offered him respectful greetings.
"We will protect the common folk of our region so as not to bring shame to you, Commander."
"Regardless of my brother-in-law's affairs, I admire you. I wish you great success."
Jeong Yeon-shin clasped his hands in return, but his attention remained on Namgung Hwa-shin.
Having seen his older brother's corpse again, the White Qilin had been lost in thought the entire time.
What must he be feeling as a younger brother? Since Jeong Yeon-shin harbored no particular affection for Jeong Jung-san, he could not easily fathom it.
'I should ask Senior Ak for advice.'
As he tried to understand the feelings of his most reliable subordinate, Jeong Yeon-shin realized anew that he had truly become the leader of a martial unit.
Once Namgung Hwa-shin returned to the Heaven-Aligned Wing, they wouldn't be seeing each other for a while. There was much to keep in mind.
Upon returning to the main fortress, he would have to reorganize the Demonlight Wing to bolster its strength.
The journey back would pass quickly. He had no choice but to ponder deeply on how to replenish the Blue Ranks, which had suffered heavy casualties, and how to instruct the nameless disciples.
It was said that competition among the Unit Commanders was fierce. The achievements of their subordinates directly reflected the prestige and merit of the Black Ranks.
'Missions won't always be assigned to just a small number of us.'
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin was lost in thought.
"Thank you."
Ak Ye-rim of the Shandong Ak Clan appeared before him.
Her loose hair draped over the white fabric of her shoulders. The spear slung diagonally across her back shifted slightly with her breathing.
She respectfully clasped her hands toward Jeong Yeon-shin. Her tone of voice had changed.
"I, Ak Ye-rim, have learned much from the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress. I apologize for troubling you with my foolish, childish behavior."
The body of the Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin, was laid to rest in the Alliance's public cemetery. The grounds were vast.
It was a resting place for rogue cultivators among the Alliance's martial artists who had no sect to return to.
With the Sword Saint now taking a direct interest, no untoward incidents would occur.
The Namgung Clan could not even claim ownership of the body.
The most shameful scandal under heaven had been exposed. They were in a position where they could only wait for the rumors to die down.
The main gate of the Alliance headquarters was bustling with countless people passing through.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing's triumph in the Sect Founding Ceremony was one of the most talked-about events in Hanzhong of late. And it wasn't just the common folk discussing it.
In terms of sheer focus, the Alliance's martial artists were even more obsessed. That was how bizarre and astonishing the feat was.
"Furthermore, you have allowed my beloved to rest in peace. I cannot thank you enough."
Ak Ye-rim paid no mind to the gazes of the crowd surrounding them. Her clasped hands shifted into a deep bow.
Reverence exuded from her posture as she brought her hands fully together and bowed from the waist, expressing gratitude not merely as a martial artist, but as a human being.
"I wish you well."
Jeong Yeon-shin offered a brief word of well-wishes. He hid his awkwardness behind his reciprocating gesture.
This was because they had barely spoken even when traveling together to West Peak Road. He simply did not let it show, carrying himself as a Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress should.
Next was the Fan Dragon, Jegal Hyeon.
A look of warmth filled the eyes of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. His gaze shifted instantly.