Chapter 219: Flash (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 219: Flash (6)
“I suppose I should circulate my true qi.”
Hahu Wi-jin spoke with a smile.
It was a fierce smile, the upward curve of his lips bordering on savage.
Wuuung.
His black sleeves, as wide as his massive frame, suddenly stiffened as he channeled his internal power.
Just how much internal energy had he, a member of the Brightfolk, accumulated? For a moment, his sleeves seemed as hard as steel. He had reached a level where he could deflect a blade with his robes alone—a truly profound realm of mastery.
No one said a word. Even the Grand Steward held his tongue.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing had provoked him.
Just as no one had reprimanded the new Commander, no one would stop the Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit from handling this as he saw fit.
“You are right,” Hahu Wi-jin spoke again. “The Compendium of Crushing the Righteous is a tremendous achievement in its own right, so it will eventually return to us. Your seniors, with the dignity befitting their Black Rank, can afford to wait. Focusing on the task at hand is the correct approach. For now, it is enough to see if your martial arts are as sharp as your tongue. There’s no need to rush.”
“…?”
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly, having no idea what the man was talking about. His tongue was sharp?
The new Commander's slight tilt of the head carried an air of pure innocence. Yet, to them, the gesture from the Flash Art could only be interpreted as another provocation.
Hahu Wi-jin’s smile deepened. Archaic words, the kind favored by the elderly, flowed from his mouth.
“One never knows during which debate a blow will be struck.”
The words and his tone were at odds—a display of the competitive spirit unique to Brightfolk experts, who retained their youth for ages.
“How unrefined.”
The Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit licked his lips and leaned back slightly. He shot Hahu Wi-jin a lazy glance before lowering his eyes again. His posture was elegant, and a deep solitude clung to his pale face.
This had earned him a measure of respect from the new Commander. By ignoring Yeon-shin’s silent greeting, he had presented himself as a senior who strictly separated public and private matters.
While Yeon-shin’s eyes shone with interest, Hahu Wi-jin furrowed his brow.
“What did you say?”
“I said nothing,” he replied, his gaze still lowered.
A few words from the Flash Art, the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing, had ignited a war of nerves.
The Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall was a legally sanctioned battleground—a battlefield in its own right.
Withstanding an opponent’s strike was the sole responsibility of the one who spoke. Whether one chose to persuade with words or suppress with force, all was permitted.
The law of the jungle.
Such was the way of the Desolate Fortress. The Commanders' meetings resembled a military council, yet they retained the temperament of a sect straddling the line between the orthodox and unorthodox paths. Unless a request was highly unreasonable, the stronger individual claimed the better missions and the most outstanding subordinates.
“I’ve been curious to taste the blade of our Flash Art,” Ak Su-rim said with a smirk.
A smooth smile curved the lips of her youthful, girl-like face. She was a supreme expert of rejuvenation and the second-in-command of the Divine Sword Corps.
Among the Black Ranks present, she was the least concerned about the Compendium of Crushing the Righteous. The reason was simple: she was just that powerful.
As the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, her position was secure. The Corps’ Divine Sword Squad was on a completely different level from the other martial units. It was a well-known fact that they could likely handle two weakened Demonlight Wings combined. This was, of course, because the newly appointed Commander, Jeong Yeon-shin, had not yet begun to reorganize his unit.
“First, let us examine the current state of the martial world,” the Grand Steward gestured toward the round table.
Laid out on it was a privilege reserved only for the Black Ranks of the Desolate Fortress: a complete map of the Central Plains.
A top-secret document, both internally and externally. The map of the Ming Dynasty, which no ordinary martial artist could ever hope to see, lay spread open, trembling slightly under the Grand Steward’s pointing finger.
It was so massive that one could hardly span its width without spreading both arms wide.
“Given the vastness of the land, you must keep the time lag of information in mind. Remember, this is not a real-time depiction of the battlefield. There is no telling how the current situation may have shifted.”
His gaze swept briefly over the Commander of the Demonlight Wing—a piece of advice for the newcomer.
Jeong Yeon-shin responded with a polite nod. The corner of the Grand Steward’s mouth twitched upward.
“First, Sichuan, located directly to our west.”
The martial world of Huguang was the most peaceful in the land for one reason alone: the Desolate Fortress was situated in its northern region. Incidents worthy of a Commanders’ meeting rarely occurred here. Most matters could be resolved by the Hunan Branch of the Desolate Fortress, so there was rarely a need for the martial artists of the main fortress to intervene.
Thus, they skipped straight to Sichuan.
“I am sure every Commander here knows that the Dragon Slaying Alliance has renamed itself the Golden Wing Sect. They changed from ‘Dragon Slaying’ to ‘Golden Wing,’ and from an alliance to a single sect. They are the only faction of the Thirteen Heavens currently maintaining their power in Sichuan Province.”
The Grand Steward stroked his thick beard.
“They are closer to the world of sorcery than the martial world, and they have recently been locked in a severe conflict with the Tang Clan. There has been no notable civilian damage yet. The Tang Clan is compensating for any destroyed inns or buildings, and the merchants are apparently thrilled by the active flow of goods… However, I believe this is an incident our main fortress must keep an eye on.”
“Those bastards must have demanded the Tang Clan’s cooperation in capturing the Strange, Violent, Chaotic, and Supernatural. And the Tang Clan would have had no reason to accept,” Hahu Wi-jin asked.
The Grand Steward nodded.
“Their behavior is predictable. It was likely closer to coercion than a request, as expected of the Thirteen Heavens. Well, I can understand their reasoning. With the Myriad Blossoms Rain wielded by the Poison Lord—the Tang Clan Leader who recovered his sect’s ultimate technique—any spirit beast could be bound, if only for a moment. A wide-area ultimate technique is essential to achieving their long-cherished desire, is it not?”
“Don’t we have a supreme expert right here who can use that?”
At Hahu Wi-jin’s words, the gazes of the assembly shifted.
The eyes of the Grand Steward and the Black Rank supreme experts converged on the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
Even the martial artists of the main fortress did not know how the Flash Art had come to wield the Myriad Blossoms Rain. There were only countless speculations. In-depth questions regarding ultimate techniques were taboo in the martial world. By now, it was simply accepted as another one of the many mysteries that surrounded the Commanders of the Desolate Fortress.
“Our Flash Art will have to be careful when he goes out into the martial world,” Ak Su-rim spoke, slightly narrowing her smooth brow. “Isn’t your moniker in Sichuan Province the ‘Hidden King Amidst Flowers’? There are so many who claim to have seen you unleash the Myriad Blossoms Rain alongside the Poison Lord, Tang Un-hwang. The Dragon Slaying Alliance—no, the Golden Wing Sect bastards—are a pack of madmen. It wouldn’t be surprising if they stretched their demonic claws toward a passing Commander of our fortress in the dead of night.”
“They refer to themselves not as martial artists, but as ‘dragon slayers,’” the Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, Un So-yu, calmly added.
‘Dragon slayers?’
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyebrows twitched.
This place was entirely different from the life he had lived so far. He had heard that in the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall, all kinds of questions were permitted and mysterious knowledge was exchanged.
Yeon-shin could not help but ask.
“Do dragons truly exist in this world?”
“No one knows now. They say they ascended to heaven during the founding of the Ming Dynasty. Because of that, all sorts of wicked superstitions ran rampant, distinct from the Buddhist Sect, the Taoist Sect, and the Ming Cult—all under the guise of religion, of course. The same happened in the martial world. Well, our fortress crushed almost all of them, save for the persistent Blood Flame Cult. We don’t even know how many branches they have,” Ak Su-rim replied nonchalantly. “There are all kinds of rumors. There was even a story that our Lord severed the horn of a yellow dragon with a single strike.”
“Have you not asked him directly?”
“How could I dare ask the Lord such a thing? At any rate, be careful. The Thirteen Heavens aren’t called the Thirteen Heavens just because they’re strong. Every single one of them is out of their mind. You must always stay on guard if you don’t want to be stabbed in the back while traveling the martial world.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
“No need for thanks. Didn’t I tell you there’s no need for such formalities here?”
At Yeon-shin’s cupped-fist salute, Ak Su-rim waved her hand. Only her faint smile seemed to betray her mood. She was a senior who did not hide her thoughts.
The Grand Steward cleared his throat.
“It is a great sect war between the Thirteen Heavens and the Eight Families. Even if the Tang Clan is suppressing civilian damage, the situation remains the same. The Chief Steward’s Office is already monitoring the situation. A mediation mission may be issued soon, so any Commanders on standby should keep this in mind.”
He then moved his finger, which had been pointing at the map, diagonally upward.
“From here on, I shall speak of Commander-level missions.”
“…!”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes flashed.
He had no intention of resting. If he did not receive a mission today, he would have to remain on standby at the main fortress.
The standing forces of the Desolate Fortress consisted of two of the martial units under the Divine Sword Corps. Ak Su-rim, being the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, was excluded, and Un So-yu was the Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, responsible for executing the laws of the fortress.
He would have to compete for missions alongside the Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit, the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit, and the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit.
All of them were veteran Commanders. They possessed extensive experience executing countless missions classified under the Black Rank. None of them were easy opponents.
‘I must secure one.’
Just as Yeon-shin made his resolve, the Grand Steward’s finger traced northwest from Sichuan. At that point, it was outside the borders of the Ming Dynasty—straight into Xinjiang.
“The Ming Cult is on the rise. The momentum of their Young Sect Leader is terrifying, and the rumor that she is a grandmaster of sorcery martial arts is now accepted as fact. She is said to be incredibly powerful.”
With his index finger fixed on Xinjiang, the Grand Steward continued.
“The Heaven-Aligned Wing, who went to wipe them out, has been out of contact for a fortnight. This is unprecedented. At least two of the Commanders here must set out. Perhaps we can call it a stroke of luck that, unlike the Demonlight Wing’s situation on the City of Master Craftsmen, we have extra martial units available this time.”
“Ha Do-un failed to handle a single greenhorn…?”
The Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit, the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon Jin Myeong-jo, crossed his arms. His very demeanor held a dual nature—both noble and sinister.
His robe was tight around his forearms, revealing the outline of his well-toned muscles through the fabric.
It was the physique of a supreme expert in fist and palm techniques. The sleek bundle of extensor muscles just above his wrist caught Yeon-shin’s eye. Up close, the line running to his bicep was exceptionally defined—a physique perfectly honed for extending his arm.
‘If I use that as a reference and tune my body with the Jeong Family Dynamic Art…’
Even as he worried for the Heaven-Aligned Wing’s safety, Yeon-shin memorized the shape of Jin Myeong-jo’s muscles. With this, it seemed he could unleash his Brilliant River even faster.
First, the senior had sent him Blue Rank experts, and now, he was gaining insight just by looking at him. He was truly a senior worthy of emulation.
“A greenhorn? He must be three or four years older than the Commander of the Demonlight Wing,” the Grand Steward shook his head, glancing at Jin Myeong-jo.
He then continued.
“Even so, it is hard to deny that his age makes no sense… but his talent must be akin to the Strange, Violent, Chaotic, and Supernatural. He must have borrowed the power of wicked sorcery. After all, even setting aside the Heavenly Demon Lineage, isn’t the martial lineage of the Ming Cult the very summation of all heretical arts?”
He ended with a question directed at the Commanders.
A silent agreement followed. Each of them nodded.
“At any rate, those are two spots. The remaining one is…”
The Grand Steward’s hand swept diagonally downward once more, toward the Central Plains. His index finger pointed at Shaanxi.
“The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect, who slew the Qingcheng Sect Leader, marched straight north and clashed with twenty-four Plum Blossom Swordmasters. He clashed with the Perfected Heavenly Pillar, who was commanding the Mount Hua Sect’s Plum Blossom Sword Formation, and shattered the entire formation in a single blow. This incident occurred just before the Commander of the Demonlight Wing attended the Sect Founding Ceremony.”
“…”
“It appears the martial arts of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect have improved to an astonishing degree. The circumstances are clear. Had the clash occurred anywhere but Huayin County, a massacre would have ensued. It was a great mercy that it happened at the foot of Mount Hua.”
“The monster of Shaanxi Province…” the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit, Cheon So-so, muttered.
The Grand Steward nodded.
“He was always like that. Though many peerless experts constantly grow stronger, the current Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect does so at an even faster rate. I point this out so you may keep it in mind should you travel to Shaanxi. This applies to you Commanders, but make sure to exercise extreme caution if your subordinates clash with the martial artists of the Hegemon Sword Sect. The momentum of those sword-idiots must have become formidable.”
“When it wasn’t the main force, the Demonlight Wing often handled Shaanxi. We’ve long made a point of selecting subordinates skilled in the principle of softness overcoming hardness—those who’ve mastered heart cultivation arts and possess fast reaction times,” Hahu Wi-jin spoke, tapping the armrest with his thick fingertips. “What is the mission?”
“We have received word that a martial artist of the heterodox sects is posing as an orthodox martial artist in the northern part of Shaanxi, near Yunyang Prefecture. He is suspected to be a supreme expert of Lingering Spirit wearing another person’s face. The Branch Head specified in his letter that since Zhongnan and Mount Hua have no strength to spare, he requests a Commander-level expert from the main fortress. The target is reportedly exploiting civilians under the guise of the White Sun Sect, an orthodox sect in Yunyang Prefecture.”
Suddenly, the Grand Steward furrowed his brow, looking as if he had a headache.
“Excluding the main fortress’s standing forces and those assigned to the Xinjiang mission, only one Black Rank remains. It must be a Commander capable of avoiding the danger posed by the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect. Since this year’s harvest is over, there is some leeway in the timeline.”
Hearing the last part, Jeong Yeon-shin immediately spoke up.
“I will go.”
The Grand Steward had mentioned leeway. It was a mission perfectly suited for him to take after reorganizing the Demonlight Wing.
Although the mission to search for the Heaven-Aligned Wing weighed heavily on his mind, Yeon-shin did not arrogantly push himself forward. His martial prowess was lower than Hahu Wi-jin’s. His experience also fell short of the other Commanders.
It was only right to leave the safety of the Heaven-Aligned Wing to more proven Commanders. Unlike during the incident on the City of Master Craftsmen, multiple martial units were available now.
Yeon-shin admitted that he and the Demonlight Wing were not the best choice. It was, he admitted to himself, a humble mindset.
Just then.
“I haven’t known you long,” Hahu Wi-jin suddenly spoke, staring intently at Yeon-shin, who sat far across from him. “But I didn’t expect you to shy away from dangerous missions like this. Could it be that your speech about the Compendium of Crushing the Righteous was merely a setup for this moment? I felt a lingering unease, one I tried my best to suppress.”
The Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit, the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer.
Before anyone realized it, a terrifying light had gathered in his eyes. His colorless internal power surged, sending out sharp, fierce waves of energy.
The faint sunlight filtering into the hall distorted along with the dust.
“Ha.”
A small breath escaped the lips of the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit, Cheon So-so, who had remained silent until now.
It was an exhalation mixed with a hint of mockery and a sigh. A light flashed in her blue eyes.
“And here I thought we would get through this quietly.”
Cheon So-so brushed back the hair behind her pointed ear.
Yeon-shin’s brow furrowed.
“You misunderstand…”
“Misunderstand! Who would call it a misunderstanding after hearing of your arrogant and insolent behavior beforehand!”
The voice was laden with immense internal power. The shout became a deafening echo, filling the entire hall.
Even the ceiling shook violently, as if struck by an earthquake.
Yeon-shin had an intuition.
‘A strike is coming.’
It was said that among supreme experts who had reached the realm of mastery, none were without their eccentricities. They possessed bodies overflowing with such vitality that they were revered as gods by commoners. For some, words were simply too clumsy a tool for resolving grudges and misunderstandings.
In the raw world of martial arts, only those with shallow skills bothered with etiquette and deep thought.
Hahu Wi-jin was a powerhouse who had no need for such things.
He had heard that fights among Commanders frequently broke out in the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall. They would seize upon trivial words and use their martial arts to gain the upper hand, ensuring they could dominate subsequent meetings.
The words Hahu Wi-jin was spewing now likely contained a mix of sincerity and pretense. It was not called a battlefield for nothing.
“I treated you as an equal among the Brightfolk because I learned from you, but in the end, perhaps the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing can’t escape the mold of his trivial clan!”
“No more words are needed, then.”
Just as Yeon-shin was about to circulate the Law-Transcending Halo Qi in his heart.
Before Ak Su-rim, who sat in the seat of honor at the head of the great table, could even raise a hand or voice a command to stop the impending clash, the world above them tore apart.
Rumble—!
A thunderous, deafening explosion violently shook the ceiling, sending a terrifying tremor down through the foundations of the building. In a fraction of a second, hundreds of jagged, spiderweb-like cracks raced down the pristine marble walls in all directions, tracing a chaotic map of imminent destruction across the ancient stone.
Yeon-shin felt it with absolute clarity. His heightened senses perceived the sudden, violent death of the defensive arrays. The profound sorcery power of the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall’s formation—a legendary barrier meticulously woven into the architecture to protect the formidable masters of the Black Ranks—was shattered into absolute nothingness in a single instant. It did not merely break; it was utterly obliterated by a force from above.
Before a single person in that hall of elite martial masters could even twitch in reaction to the broken wards, the sky fell.
Boom—!
The entire ceiling collapsed inward. It came crashing down with a monstrous, bone-rattling vibration, carrying the apocalyptic weight and fury of a sudden landslide. Massive slabs of stone, shattered timber, and ruined tiles plummeted toward the gathering.
Thick, choking stone dust spread outward in a hazy, suffocating cloud, settling heavily over the room and obscuring the vision of everyone present.
In that split second, the survival instincts of the Commanders flared to life. Powerful, blinding strikes of qi shot upward from the grand table, a dazzling array of martial arts unleashed in perfect unison. They deflected, slashed, and pulverized the tons of falling debris, turning lethal boulders into harmless sand before they could make impact.
Yet, amidst that chaotic display of defensive might, a voice roared from the heavens.
"You degenerate!"
Plummeting through the gaping hole in the roof, a man descended like a vengeful spirit, his vibrant pink robes fluttering wildly against the gray backdrop of destruction. With impossible speed that defied the senses of the gathered masters, he bypassed every defense and ruthlessly grabbed the back of Hahu Wi-jin's head.
Though the newcomer’s frame appeared scrawny and frail beneath his colorful garments, the power he wielded was anything but. A gale-like shockwave of pure, unadulterated qi swirled outward from his surprisingly massive palm.
A dusty, gray whirlwind instantly swept away the remaining stone fragments in all directions, grinding them to powder. It was a truly colossal vortex of wind, a localized hurricane that filled the vast expanse of the ruined hall in the blink of an eye.
"The only thing trivial here is your own damn jaw!" the man bellowed, his voice echoing with tyrannical authority.
With a brutal, unyielding motion, the man's hand forced Hahu Wi-jin's head downward. From the iron grip crushing his skull, a secondary shockwave driven by a fierce, razor-sharp wind surged violently outward, tearing through the air.
Even the legendary, heaven-defying strength of the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer could not muster a single ounce of resistance against that overwhelming downward pressure. Hahu Wi-jin was entirely helpless. His forehead was slammed straight down into the massive, reinforced surface of the table with the force of a falling meteor.
Crash!
The grand round table, built to withstand the passive aura of the Black Ranks, shattered into thousands of jagged pieces, exploding outward like shrapnel. Above the wreckage of the hall, a violent, howling roar soared straight up through the newly opened sky.
It was a colossal, heaven-shaking shockwave, leaving the atmosphere trembling as if an invisible, apocalyptic tempest had just erupted in their very midst.