Chapter 214: Flash
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 214: Flash
The Hegemon Hero, Ma Yeon-jeok.
He was once a peerless master who symbolized the Desolate Fortress. With the Harmonious Bloom Divine Sword of the Desolate Ma Clan, he had stood on equal ground with the Taiji Wisdom Sword of the previous Wudang Sect Leader.
In their duel, it was the old swordsman of Wudang, hailed as the Greatest Sword Under Heaven, who had been the first to ask for a rest. At the time, Ma Yeon-jeok was only thirty-seven years old.
His current gaunt appearance was of no consequence. A few months of recuperation would transform his body beyond recognition. The only real issue was his rejuvenated appearance.
“Didn’t he just say the Supreme Elder’s name?”
“Is this not another insult?”
“But those clothes are definitely…”
A profound doubt settled on the faces of the Ma Clan’s experts. Anyone in their position would have felt the same; it was not something one could easily accept.
Even within the Desolate Fortress, which boasted the greatest number of supreme masters in the Jianghu, only Ak Su-rim was said to have been chosen by the heavens in such a way. It was a well-known concept, but one none of them had ever witnessed.
None of those present had ever seen Ma Yeon-jeok in his youth.
And yet, at this very moment, they felt a wind laden with terrifying power. Intangible strands brushed against their skin like sword blades. It was an aura that commanded their full attention.
He didn’t even seem conscious of it; it simply spread with solemn majesty.
Wuuuung.
The wind thrummed with the aftershocks of the internal energy rising from his body. It expanded with a grand, unobstructed resonance, like the breath of a dragon.
Though he held no blade, his very presence produced a sword-ring—the sign of a master who had reached the realm of treating their entire body as a sword.
A Purple Rank expert, one who could discuss the affairs of the world on equal footing with the leaders of the great sects.
His very existence was a mystery of the Jianghu.
“This is…!”
Ju Yeon-jeong’s lips trembled slightly. For a moment, she was at a loss for words.
After Jeong Yeon-shin had ordered the fighting to stop, a heavy silence had fallen over the courtyard as all auras gradually faded. Now, the gazes of both the Desolate Ma Clan and the Demonlight Wing converged on a single spot.
He called himself the Hegemon Hero. He referred to himself as Ma Yeon-jeok.
A man wearing nightwear in the middle of a battlefield.
His long, pink sleeves hung loosely, giving the silk pajamas—attire befitting only a person of high status—a strangely solemn quality. His aura was as grim and imposing as if he were clad in martial robes or armor.
The man spoke again.
“This old man is your elder.”
The true Qi carried in his youthful voice pressed down on the atmosphere, as if he were exhaling pure, boiling power.
His face appeared to be in its thirties, without a single wrinkle. His eyes, slightly upturned before sloping down, resembled those of the man standing beside him—the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, the Flash Art. He looked somewhat stubborn, yet carried a solitary, quiet air. He was a handsome man with bold, distinct features.
From the moment he appeared, he had kept his hand on the Commander’s shoulder, showing no sign of removing it.
Yet, no one dared to chuckle. There was nothing amusing about the sight.
Such was his presence. The aura enveloping him drew terrifying ripples in the air, emanating from his pitch-black hair, his dark eyebrows, and his flawless skin. It was a transparent current of power, flowing like the Yangtze River.
“What in the…”
Ju Yeon-jeong, who had been holding her breath, let out a low groan. Her hand rose as if to cover her mouth but froze in midair, trembling as if she had palsy.
She was facing something beyond all common sense. It was the only way she could react; she couldn’t even bring herself to deny it. The man was proving his identity through his aura alone, as if declaring, I am a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress.
A brief silence fell.
“What are you doing?”
The man in nightwear’s eyes grew sharp. Beyond the mystique of a peerless master, he possessed a very worldly demeanor. It was written all over his face as he scanned the members of the Desolate Ma Clan.
His expression was chilling, cold as iron.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from his lips.
—Kneel and show proper respect! To your benefactor and to this old man!
It was a fiery roar. The sound tore through the air, echoing instantly across the grounds. The grass beneath their feet flattened wildly. His shout was a Lion’s Roar.
More than a dozen experts winced, feeling as though hundreds of hooks were tearing at their ears.
Fwoosh!
Dust kicked up from the ground. The monstrous aura distorted it into irregular waves. This was the tyrannical manifestation of true Qi unique to the Harmonious Bloom Divine Art.
It felt as if a brand had been seared into the skin of everyone present—intense and deep. It was a presence no one else here possessed. He had proven himself once again.
Soon, a middle-aged man in a splendid green martial uniform spoke up.
“Supreme Elder, is it truly…?”
He was one of the mid-ranking martial artists of the Desolate Ma Clan. The tips of his fingers, clad in black gauntlets, trembled slightly—an uncharacteristic display for a master of the Harmonious Bloom Fist Technique.
A crease formed between Ma Yeon-jeok’s smooth brows.
“Ma Jin-un, you have lost your mind to fear. Do you need this old man to wash those foolish eyes of yours? I have already spoken twice. If I have to say it a third time, you will surely pay dearly.”
A warning like a lion’s growl slipped through his tight lips.
Ma Jin-un’s shoulders flinched.
There was no one else who would dare speak to an expert of the Desolate Ma Clan in such a manner. His words and actions were identical to those of the old master, Ma Yeon-jeok.
While a strange sense of relief washed over Jeong Yeon-shin’s face, many of the Ma Clan’s martial artists rushed forward as if a Thunderbolt Bomb had gone off at their feet. There were easily over twenty of them.
“These bastards…!”
“Instead of backing down, they dare to—!”
The Demonlight Wing experts instinctively prepared to strike, but the moment Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head, the auras of the Blue-Ranked experts vanished. Their hands, which had been gathering tyrannical energy, stilled. They had reacted instantly to their Commander’s gesture.
The experts of the Desolate Ma Clan rushed past them, kicking off the ground once more.
Fwoooosh!
They were not in an attacking stance. They used their Body Protection Scripture to cross the distance in a blur, dropping to their knees to absorb the momentum. They immediately slammed their foreheads against the ground with a dull thud, sending yellowish dust billowing up around them.
“This unworthy Ma Jin-un was foolish and failed to recognize the Supreme Elder!”
“We humbly pay our respects to the Hegemon Hero!”
Voices laced with various emotions cried out in unison. There was discipline in their unified prostration and greeting, yet their inner states were the exact opposite. They were filled with shock and confusion.
Unable to hide their expressions, they looked up at their long-time master.
They were witnessing the impossible.
The body of Supreme Elder Ma Yeon-jeok had been cleansed by ultimate internal energy. He had reversed the aging of the human body. Just as a select few supreme masters had done, including the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress, he had defeated time with a mortal body.
It was an event that would shock and stir the entire Jianghu.
A miracle.
And who had made it possible?
“…”
The gazes of the Desolate Ma Clan’s experts shifted to the side of the Supreme Elder.
There stood the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
As dusk fell, the moonlight diffused through a faint halo around the moon, settling over Jeong Yeon-shin’s face like a translucent veil. Deep shadows formed beneath his dense eyelashes. A brilliant light shimmered within his dark, sunken eyes. The moonlight catching the high bridge of his nose was beautiful.
He was, indeed, a Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress. He was enveloped in a mystique befitting his lofty status, accompanied by the gentle moonlight.
His achievement was just as profound. He had accomplished something that was, quite literally, a miracle. It was enough to make them appreciate his striking appearance, which was easily on par with that of the Brightfolk.
The sight evoked both acceptance and questioning. Awe filled the eyes of the noble family’s experts, along with an unresolvable curiosity.
Setting aside the sheer boldness of giving a Great Restoration Pill to his maternal grandfather, they were forced to ponder: just what kind of martial attainment did he possess?
For the martial artists of the Desolate Ma Clan, decline was fate. While they looked down on the sects outside the Desolate Fortress, they envied orthodox lineages like the Nine Sects. The monks and Taoists of the Nine Great Sects did not wither with age; on the contrary, they grew stronger. They were different from the Ma Clan’s martial artists, who grew strong quickly only to decline just as rapidly, like expendable soldiers.
‘They said there was a dynamic art that cultivated the Commander of the Demonlight Wing’s childhood…’
‘Did it actually exist?!’
‘No wonder the current Clan Head was so reluctant to announce it…’
Yet, no one dared to ask. They were no different from lackeys of the underworld awaiting King Yama’s judgment.
Following the Supreme Elder, they bowed their heads to the Commander of the Demonlight Wing as well. They bowed lower and lower, offering sporadic apologies.
“…We greet the benefactor of our family.”
“We are deeply grateful for the martial attainment you have bestowed upon us.”
“We have received a profound grace from the Commander of the Demonlight Wing…!”
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply.
To him, they were worthless. If anything, their presence only made him keenly aware that he had truly restored his maternal grandfather.
Only after that renewed sense of relief did the realization finally dawn on him.
This was an achievement. A colossal contribution.
The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, the Elder Council Head, the Former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps—they were all Purple Ranks, and each had their own missions.
The fruit of the World Tree was a treasure personally guarded by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. It was a treasure of the clan that all Brightfolk of the Central Plains held sacred, said to be the only one in the entire world.
Just as achievements accumulated to allow one to advance to the next color of martial robes, one could not receive the fruit simply by completing a single mission suited to one’s rank. That would throw the entire reward system into chaos.
‘He said all the Brightfolk under heaven must agree.’
To receive a whole fruit, not just a piece, would require repeatedly embarking on missions across the Jianghu as a Purple Rank.
He knew that. It was fine.
‘I've already accomplished two of them.’
The Compendium of Crushing the Righteous. His maternal grandfather’s rejuvenation.
Though he had completed them while wearing a Black Rank uniform, he had just taken two giant steps toward the fruit. He had built up several thick layers of justification required to be granted the fruit of the World Tree as a Purple Rank. He had saved an immense amount of time.
This was the point where his martial arts achievement truly became crucial.
‘I should request a duel with the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit… No, let’s finish the task at hand first.’
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head inwardly. Dismissing the thought, he quietly looked down at the martial artists of the Desolate Ma Clan. More than twenty bowed heads entered his vision. They were still prostrated.
“…”
He could guess their intentions in causing the commotion. Whether they were in league with Ju Yeon-jeong was uncertain, but they had acted together. Things could have truly gone wrong. If his grandfather had been circulating his Qi with a heart cultivation art any less stable than the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, the interference could have been disastrous.
‘They were worried about my grandfather’s body?’
It was a flimsy excuse.
The justification was plausible. The knowledge of an internal cultivation master was different from that of a physician. A physician’s attainment would have been more suitable for examining Ma Yeon-jeok than average knowledge of internal Qi Gong. Ju Yeon-jeong was a meticulous person; she had made that clear from the start. Jeong Yeon-shin had heard her shouting.
But any human could read between the lines.
The commotion had been excessive. The aura unleashed by the Desolate Ma Clan had been deliberately disruptive. The waves sweeping through the pavilion and garden had resonated with exceptional force.
Jeong Yeon-shin had felt a clear malice. It was as if they were asking, Can you still continue your Qi circulation like this?
It was a blatant, insidious scheme, the kind of political maneuvering one would expect in the imperial Forbidden City.
Anyone would know.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced over his shoulder. If Ma Yeon-jeok’s treatment of them and Ju Yeon-jeong was insufficient, he planned to temporarily set aside his grandfather’s presence and act as a Unit Commander of the main fortress.
Whether it was the Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style or the Infinite Flower of Time Hand, it didn't matter. These people had attempted to harm a Black Rank and a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress. An ordinary punishment would not suffice.
Just then.
“Foolish and disloyal wretches,” Ma Yeon-jeok spat.
Step.
His pink trouser cuffs moved forward as he slowly took his hand off his grandson’s shoulder. The aura that had been spreading from the young old man’s body vanished instantly, making him seem even more terrifying. He had completely gathered the internal power that had been overflowing from his rejuvenation, condensing it like a flame.
His shrewd, experienced eyes flashed with a blue fire. Some of the martial artists flinched, meeting a gaze they had never seen before.
Ma Yeon-jeok didn’t care. He saw through the entire chain of events.
“How dare you,” he muttered softly. His mind, which had been relaxed for a moment as if wandering through the heavens, was now stained with wrath.
The contrast between his experience inside and outside the pavilion was stark. Earlier, through his grandson’s divine art, he had felt his daughter. The Jeong Family Dynamic Art was an ultimate technique with a pitifully simple mnemonic that depicted only the mother of the young grandmaster: Ma Yeon-sang, his daughter.
He had met his daughter’s mental manifestation.
It was incredibly warm. It had transformed into the energy of the Great Restoration Pill, filling his entire body. He would never forget the feeling of it traveling up his fine meridians and sweeping through all his acupoints. It was a sorrowful comfort.
And so, time had been rewound by his grandson’s hands, back to the day he first held his newborn daughter and wrapped her in a purple robe. He had no choice but to regain his prime. Naturally, he had achieved rejuvenation.
He raised his eyes and looked ahead.
Ju Yeon-jeong stood in a lofty posture, her back straighter than anyone else’s. Had she managed to suppress her panic? She merely clasped her hands together in a salute toward Ma Yeon-jeok.
“I congratulate you on your great completion.”
She was of imperial blood. The bloodline of the Forbidden City did not kneel.
All expression vanished from Ma Yeon-jeok’s face. With a countenance now resembling his grandson’s, he slowly took a step.
Step.
That single step was the beginning. He began to stride forward.
He was walking straight toward Ju Yeon-jeong, yet even the martial artists she had brought from her family did not dare block his path. They merely flinched and hovered hesitantly.
“I know why you are angry,” Ju Yeon-jeong spoke, her posture upright. “It is a misunderstanding. Please calm your anger, Supreme Elder.”
She did not lose her dignity. Her face was elegant, her bearing calm.
“Do you dare command me to calm down? After playing tricks to harm my grandson?”
Ma Yeon-jeok did not stop walking. The grass crushed beneath his feet crumbled into dust. This happened even though his aura was no longer flaring. His completely refined divine power manifested naturally, wielding an authority akin to the Strange, Violent, Chaotic, and Supernatural.
Ju Yeon-jeong’s lips moved a bit faster.
“Please consider the circumstances and understand. Everything was out of concern for the Supreme Elder’s safety…”
“If it were a scheme that only brought harm to this body, that would have been one thing. But since you sought to touch this old man’s treasure, I must return far more than that. You must be prepared. Right here, right now.”
Step.
The six-foot-tall Ma Yeon-jeok stood before Ju Yeon-jeong. He looked down at her, lowering only his eyes. The blue light within them flashed repeatedly.
Only then did Ju Yeon-jeong’s eyebrows arch. A coldness began to seep from her lips.
“Do not do something you will regret. I have no intention of letting this slide easily. Remember the noble bloodline of the Ju Clan, and remember that the Desolate Fortress is the sword of the imperial family. The Supreme Elder’s status is no different.”
It was a rational threat. The Ming Dynasty put immense effort into upholding the dignity of the imperial family. Even the act of publicly denying the connection between the Desolate Fortress and the imperial family was proof of that.
Ju Yeon-jeong calmly continued, “If you harm me, the imperial family will surely—”
Suddenly.
Thud!
Keo-heok—!
In an instant, Ju Yeon-jeong’s waist bent. At the same time, a heavy wave rippled from her lower abdomen—her lower Dantian. It was an incredibly powerful shockwave.
It felt as if her Dantian had been shattered in a single blow. Blood poured from her mouth in a clearly involuntary torrent.
No one had seen Ma Yeon-jeok strike.
He merely stood there, exactly as he had been, looking down at Ju Yeon-jeong.
Heo-eo-eok—
Gasping for air along with the blood, Ju Yeon-jeong snapped her head up. The dismay in her eyes was stark. She wore an expression of utter disbelief.
“Just now, the sword… the master’s bloodline…!”
“There are many of the Ju Clan under heaven,” the Flash Art’s maternal grandfather calmly parted his lips.
“But there is only one Ma Yeon-jeok.”
The young old man’s fingertip pointed toward Ju Yeon-jeong’s solar plexus, the area where the middle Dantian was located.