Chapter 228: Precious Sword
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 228: Precious Sword
Saaaa—
Wisps of hazy light drifted from Jeong Yeon-shin, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. They crumbled into starlight, rising from the hem of his pitch-black robe.
It was a sight that contrasted sharply with the calmness in his eyes.
Every master of the highest caliber possessed a unique aura, and the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing's presence was both profound and mysterious.
To the seasoned warriors of the Jianghu, he was utterly unpredictable.
He had sent the earlier telepathic message without so much as moving his lips.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing appeared to be a silent, solemn Black-ranked official. This meant his turbulent temper was reserved solely for Do Jin and Hahu San-san.
‘Overseeing a promotion test as a unit commander isn’t anything special. I suppose the Commander of the Thread-Annihilation Unit looked at me the same way back then.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought quietly. ‘Do they even need me here?’
‘I should wrap this up quickly and head to Shaanxi...’
The corners of his mouth tightened. He had many ties to the Zhongnan Sect, and not just his blood relatives, Jeong Hye and Jeong Jung-san.
He was also close with Jong Yeo-il, the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan; Great Elder Yeo Il-shin; and the Sword Dragon, Wiji Myo-hwa, not to mention the Zhongnan disciples who had fought alongside the Hegemon Sword Sect. A heavy stone seemed to settle in his chest.
“Huu…”
Do Jin’s normally relaxed wrist was stiff. At that moment, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who had been pinching the sword blade between two fingers, flicked them to the side.
It was a casual gesture. With a resonant tung—, the sword rang and was deflected downward.
“...!”
Do Jin, who had nearly dropped his sword, was jolted back to his senses.
The teachings of his prestigious clan, cultivated over a lifetime, had been shattered in an instant.
A chilling sensation pierced his mind, bordering on panic. A disaster had been averted, but the fact that a strike—one he doubted he could ever replicate—had been so effortlessly neutralized sent a shock through him.
For a swordsman, this was a massive blow. Perhaps it was a small mercy that his opponent was a Black-ranked expert.
The reputation of the Flash Art, Commander of the Demonlight Wing, was something the Desolate Fortress had come to accept as fact.
‘His reputation is well-deserved...’
Do Jin groaned inwardly. As a warrior of the Law Enforcement Unit, he had been curious about the expert who had broken through a unit commander's counter-technique.
He had simply pushed that curiosity aside due to his own romantic troubles.
Hahu San-san, who had been holding a low stance, rose awkwardly to her feet. She quickly cupped her fists in a salute.
Huu—
She exhaled a long breath, releasing the internal energy she had gathered for a decisive clash. A faint wave of power dissipated with it.
Only then did she begin to breathe normally. She had been startled by Do Jin’s strike, only to witness the Commander of the Demonlight Wing’s move from point-blank range.
Even by her standards, it was only natural to feel overwhelmed.
‘To catch that with Bare-Handed Blade Capture...!’
She had witnessed a technique nearly impossible to attempt without a massive gap in skill—a martial feat that involved catching a sword strike with just two fingers.
He had completely read the sword’s path, dissolved the concentrated shockwave with a single pulse of force, and withstood the blade’s power with nothing but the strength of his fingers.
The entire sequence had occurred in a single instant.
The new Commander of the Demonlight Wing’s body protection Qi didn’t look as dense as the Deep Jade Heavenly Ice Shield of the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit.
This meant he had absolute confidence in his ability to pull off the Bare-Handed Blade Capture. Or perhaps his courage was simply extraordinary.
Either way, it was more than enough to suppress the spirit of any warrior with a discerning eye.
The corners of Hahu San-san’s mouth curved up awkwardly.
“Uh… thank you, Commander.”
Her status as a blood relative of the Desolate Hahu Clan meant nothing before a Black-ranked expert. Neither did their age difference. His station was far beyond that of any noble bloodline.
Even though Hahu San-san had been a White-ranked warrior when she watched the Flash Art take his Desolate Fortress Entrance Exam, she couldn't afford a hint of disrespect now.
He was so cute back then, though, she thought.
Did her thoughts show in her eyes? One side of the Commander’s mouth twitched upward in a crooked line. It looked like a slight frown, or perhaps a pout.
“You need to watch the sword properly. The enemy’s form is more important than the point of impact,” Jeong Yeon-shin said bluntly.
Having accepted her thanks, he could hardly tell them to get off the stage again.
He figured he should at least offer a brief piece of advice, as befitting a Black-ranked expert. They would leave on their own after that.
Sss.
Hahu San-san gave her cupped fists a slight shake, another gesture of gratitude. The Commander of the Demonlight Wing was a rookie who had grown at an unprecedented speed.
To the experts of other martial units, he was a mysterious existence in many ways, and even the chance to exchange a few words with him was precious.
Her lips curved into a smile.
“I’ve heard rumors that you possess a secret technique not passed down in the Flash Art Lineage, Commander. Was what you just showed us…”
“Are you interested in my martial arts?”
“I was, once. But it was difficult to learn—or rather, it was easy to train but hard to actually use. Since you’ll be teaching your subordinates in the Demonlight Wing directly, I imagine learning from you in person would make a difference, wouldn’t it?”
There was a strange nuance in her tone, and in the dark eyes that scanned Jeong Yeon-shin. It was as if she were probing a chicken rib—not valuable enough to keep, but a waste to throw away.
Hahu San-san, the Scale-Fist Demon, came from a prestigious martial family and belonged to the powerful Thread-Annihilation Unit. She likely had no real intention of transferring units, so there had to be another reason for her question.
Perhaps it was a lingering regret, or maybe just idle curiosity.
‘Not something I need to think about.’
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t answer immediately. He stared at her quietly before slowly parting his lips.
“The gates of the Demonlight Wing aren’t always open. We don’t need anyone else. We have enough.”
“Ah.”
Hahu San-san let out a soft exclamation.
Do Jin, who had been awkwardly lowering his sword, spoke up.
“My thanks, Commander of the Demonlight—”
“I told you to leave the stage.”
“Yes.”
He answered with the same sharp discipline he’d shown in his strike against Hahu San-san.
Soon, the two of them offered another salute and stepped down from the stage.
Normally, the focus of a promotion test would be on the candidates, but because the new commander’s mystique was so overwhelming, most eyes remained fixed on the stage.
Only a few cast their gazes toward Wind-Swaying Sword Do Jin.
Sarak.
Jeong Yeon-shin, Commander of the Demonlight Wing, adjusted one of his flowing sleeves.
Unlike before, his movements were imbued with a cold, stern aura. His pitch-black robes suited his indifferent expression perfectly.
“Next,” he said.
The sight intimidated the promotion candidates, and a small stir went through the crowd.
Experts who had missed their units’ collective missions due to solo assignments stepped forward, their gaits heavy.
“I am Seon Si-ryeong of the Heaven-Aligned Wing.”
“I am Jong-hwi of the Martial Apex Unit.”
* * *
The impact of the display the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had just provided was immense.
The Desolate Fortress's promotion tests began to proceed at an unprecedented speed.
Though it wasn't Jeong Yeon-shin's intention, matches were frequently decided in a single blow. Outstanding warriors displayed their skills with all their might before stepping down.
A suffocating atmosphere often fell over the crowd whenever a single, fast sword strike was unleashed.
“The Commander doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.”
“Indeed. His expression is stiff. I’ve never seen him look like that, not even for a moment.”
Below the stage, in the spectator seats, the Lazy Flame Dragon and Jegal Cheong-a conversed.
They were both scions of the Eight Great Families. They shared a common origin as local martial aristocrats, and both had joined the Demonlight Wing after seeing the Flash Art, Jeong Yeon-shin.
“Something bad seems to have happened, but it’s not my place to ask.”
“That’s the typical carefree attitude of the Jegal Clan. You’re right. Even I know my place. I’ve been keeping my head down among the nameless disciples, haven’t I?”
The Lazy Flame Dragon didn’t seem worried about his commander. What kind of trust did he have?
Chewing on his poppy, he looked off to the side with half-closed eyes, completely at ease. He was looking toward the Demonlight Wing’s pavilion.
“A bunch of little punks with their whole lives ahead of them…”
“…”
The girl of the Jegal Clan lowered her eyes slightly.
Sweeping her black hair, tied with sky-blue silk, over her shoulder, she stared blankly at Jeong Yeon-shin on the stage. She was dressed in a gray martial uniform, the kind worn by nameless disciples.
As a guest warrior recognized by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, Jegal Cheong-a could have worn a white martial uniform.
But she had flatly refused, wanting to avoid being treated as an outsider. To get closer to the core, she had to start on the same footing as everyone else. So, she had requested and worn the uniform of a nameless disciple.
Indeed, not long after entering, she had won the hearts of the nameless disciples.
Unlike the arrogant Lazy Flame Dragon, she carried herself without pretense, despite possessing the dignity and discernment expected of a scion from a renowned family.
‘Young Master Hwangbo’s very presence seems to be a help. Commander Jeong’s tacit approval is also significant...’
In short, she benefited from the comparison.
While the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was busy with his own affairs, she had already established her own place in the unit. Her role was also clear.
As an eye technique expert, she could bolster the Demonlight Wing’s strength in various ways. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the danger from mechanism formations had been completely eliminated.
The Demonlight Wing had already amassed a force comparable to a decent mid-sized sect.
‘With me, formerly the eyes of the main family, and the Moon-Shooting Bow Ghost, Wi Ye-ryeong, coordinating range in field battles... The Blue-ranked experts are undeniably superb, and our numbers are no longer lacking. And on top of all that, there's the Vast Art Formula...’
The combined ultimate technique of the Demonlight Formula and the Flash Art Lineage was truly profound. It was a level that even she, a direct descendant of the Eight Great Families, found impressive.
The Vast Art Formula, created by the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
It drastically shortened training time.
This only applied to those who had already trained extensively in either the Demonlight Formula or the Flash Art Lineage, but the experts of the Demonlight Wing had already mastered one of the two.
They transformed day by day. Their momentum was terrifying. It felt like a marvel no less impressive than the personal achievements of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing himself.
It was a change the world knew nothing of. Soon, they would make their debut in large numbers. How would the Jianghu receive them?
‘Commander Jeong said he has never gone on a collective mission before...’
Putting her thoughts aside, Jegal Cheong-a spoke quietly.
“You don’t seem worried, Young Master Hwangbo. Even though you have to jump two ranks.”
“Me?”
The Lazy Flame Dragon smirked and gestured with his chin.
“Worry about him, not me. The one going up right now. He’s always been slick and lazy.”
A tall young man was walking toward the stage with a broad, easygoing smile.
The sword at his waist was a precious blade, clearly extraordinary to any eye, and the blue band wrapped around his head was made of fine, clean silk.
The golden dragon engraved in the center flashed brilliantly. It was the Hero's Headband that the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress used to boast about wearing when he first met the Flash Art.
On the massive central stage.
Heonwon Chang stepped up with his opponent. The promotion test had been underway for a long time.
More than two hours had passed. He was the first promotion candidate from the Demonlight Wing.
“I am Heonwon Chang of the Demonlight Wing,” Heonwon Chang said, offering a nod to Jeong Yeon-shin before addressing his opponent.
“I am Gang Un-chan of the Chief Steward’s Office. I have seen Commander Jeong from afar a few times.”
The man, who had the aura of a scholar, cupped his fists in return.
The black scabbard of the Desolate Fortress Sword at his waist contrasted with his exceptionally calm face.
He was enveloped in a quiet, settled aura. His white martial uniform almost looked like a scholar’s robes.
Yet, his thick eyebrows and well-toned muscles gave him a surprisingly wild appearance.
A brief glance was enough to bring the phrase ‘master of both pen and sword’ to mind. The waves of his internal power were also considerably heavy.
‘He won’t be easy,’ Jeong Yeon-shin thought. However, as the officiant, he had to maintain neutrality and let none of it show.
For a brief moment, he imagined throwing Gang Un-chan off balance with an invisible finger wind.
Lately, as his limbs ached from his rapid growth, his mind had been filled with stray thoughts.
‘It’s not like I’m my maternal grandfather.’
Jeong Yeon-shin reproached himself inwardly.
Such an explosive temper was far from his own. He would probably never resemble him, not in a lifetime.
He had to maintain the humble, calm disposition he’d had since childhood. As long as he faithfully carried out his duties, that would not change.
Jeobeok.
Taking a few steps back, he spoke curtly.
“Begin.”
“Thank you for officiating.”
Gang Un-chan, who bowed politely to the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, turned his head. His eyes immediately met Heonwon Chang’s.
“I have always envied you. I doubt I am the only one.”
“What do you mean?” Heonwon Chang asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Have you not been blessed with an excellent peer? To have taken the Desolate Fortress Entrance Exam alongside the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing and joined the same unit… Riding the tides of fortune is a warrior’s skill in its own right. You are truly outstanding, Young Hero Heonwon.”
There was no hint of sarcasm on his calm face.
It wasn’t petty jealousy. He truly meant what he said. It was a world where terms like heavenly luck and heavenly mandate were common.
Heonwon Chang didn’t care much. The Vast Art Formula, which Jeong Yeon-shin had personally taught him, was about to be put to the test. This was a stage watched by hundreds of people.
Since he had failed to break the seventy-percent restriction, he had to perform at his absolute best. He could not bring shame to the Vast Art Formula or to Jeong Yeon-shin.
‘My senses are at their peak. Excellent.’
He casually brushed off the words of Gang Un-chan, who was observing etiquette before the duel. Was it a trait of the Chief Steward’s Office? He seemed to be a talkative fellow.
“I have realized that even enduring that envy is a virtue of a warrior. I had many delusional thoughts. That if I had been with him, I would have grown stronger. That the scale of my achievements would have been different. That I could have learned more and assisted him in ways you could not, Young Hero Heonwon... While those things are undoubtedly true, they are ultimately meaningless. In the end, your place is your own.”
It was then.
Kung—
Suddenly, Gang Un-chan’s head snapped down. An invisible shockwave had crossed the empty space and struck the back of his head, the heavy impact resonating through the air.
His posture forced low, Gang Un-chan staggered. It looked as though an invisible ceiling had collapsed, nearly bringing him to his knees.
Huuung—
The residual force of the shockwave drifted out. A faint breeze swept across the stage, scattering dust and leaving behind a quiet stillness.
Heonwon Chang looked back at his commander.
“…”
Standing alone with his arms crossed, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing gazed down at an angle, looking as elegant as ever.