Chapter 231: Precious Sword (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 231: Precious Sword (4)
"I am Baek Seo-gun of the Deep Martial Alliance."
The woman spoke, her ash-colored hair falling to her nape like a lion's mane. An incomparably brilliant luster flowed from her orange silk robe. A single sword and a travel bag adorned with a splendid orchid pattern caught the eye. Her appearance was as simple as her introduction.
It had been no short journey for the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost to defeat the Twin Demons of Chaneum and finally stand before Wiji Myo-hwa. Several days had already passed.
Wiji Myo-hwa had seized the opportunity to escape when the giants of the Heterodox Sects clashed. The luxury of believing "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" did not exist in this situation. With not only her own life but also young Jeong Hye's life at stake, she could not readily ask for help from the second-in-command of a great Heterodox sect.
Thus, seven days and nights of flight had passed.
There were many pursuers besides the Twin Demons of Chaneum. Lingering Spirit and the Hegemon Sword Sect had joined forces, meaning there was no shortage of manpower. They had cast a veritable Net of Heaven and Earth.
Wiji Myo-hwa had hidden Jeong Hye in a mountain cave and lured the enemies away, drawing their attention by wildly releasing her energy waves. It was the best she could do. She had been driven completely to her limit—at least until Baek Seo-gun suddenly appeared and slaughtered twenty-two pursuers with a single strike of Sword Kinesis.
"You ran well. Even I found it difficult to trace your presence."
"……"
The misty peaks of the Qinling Mountains unfolded around them like an ink wash painting.
The distance between the Deep Martial Alliance and the Zhongnan Sect was not particularly far, so Baek Seo-gun had recognized Wiji Myo-hwa's identity at once. With the sheer comprehension she had gained from mastering the Brightfolk Divine Art, she easily recalled the description of the Zhongnan Sect Leader's disciple.
The Cloud Sword Dragon of the Zhongnan Sect was a renowned rising star, possessing outstanding martial arts, appearance, and status. Of course, from the Sword Dragon's perspective, Baek Seo-gun was an equally monumental figure.
"…The Yeongcheon Sword Ghost," Wiji Myo-hwa breathed, finally parting her lips.
Even as she spoke, she did not take her hand off her sword hilt. As the successor of a prestigious orthodox sect that had suffered the calamity of annihilation, her vigilance was at its absolute peak. Her eyes, which usually rested in a calm, straight line, were sharply raised.
She was alone, her appearance thoroughly disheveled. Her once-neat clothes were stained with dust and blood, and traces of blood lingered around her mouth from internal injuries. The noble aura of a Zhongnan swordsman had warped into the fierce temperament of a wild fighting ghost.
A peculiar gleam flashed in Baek Seo-gun's eyes.
‘I heard she had a connection with Flash Art.’
She observed Wiji Myo-hwa closely. The girl's beautiful features and sharp eyes were impressive, but what stood out even more was the energy wave enveloping her entire body. It was as sharp as if she had clothed herself in a freezing gale.
‘Maintaining the state of Unity of Body and Sword at all times... She is a well-tempered sword.’
The Cloud Sword Dragon, Wiji Myo-hwa. Even the strange feather ornament binding her pitch-black hair was extraordinary. The same went for the weapon at her waist. A white precious sword hung from a jade-adorned belt; though it did not traditionally suit a disciple of a Taoist sect, it looked strangely fitting on her.
"Did you not take the bloodline of the Jeong Family Manor with you?" Baek Seo-gun asked point-blank, never one to beat around the bush.
The reaction was swift.
Whoosh.
An invisible wave of energy bristled from Wiji Myo-hwa's entire body. It was a colorless wave of internal power that spread with an incredibly sharp edge. Her hem, its blue fabric faded by dust, swelled tight as it filled with qi.
"For what reason does an elder of the Deep Martial Alliance..."
The Sword Dragon spoke, channeling internal energy worthy of her moniker. She looked ready to strike at any moment, the contrast between the black and white of her eyes exceptionally distinct. She wasn't being reckless; she was resolute. Even if driven to death, she would never reveal Jeong Hye's whereabouts.
The corners of Baek Seo-gun's mouth curled up.
"You have decent spirit. However, you are not qualified to hear my story. It is enough for you to simply recognize my assistance. Have I not personally peeled off the leeches that have been tailing you? Whether they were from the Hegemon Sword Sect or Lingering Spirit, it was no easy task, even for me."
The relationships within the Thirteen Heavens were tangled in a chaotic mess. As the great sects of the world's Heterodox Factions, they followed no rules in their movements. They might launch a coordinated attack on the Orthodox factions one day, only to wage a Great Sect War among themselves the next. Unlike the Orthodox Martial World, they were not friendly to one another.
Yet, the balance between the Orthodox and Unorthodox was somehow maintained, leading to the common saying that if a Thirteen Heavens Alliance were ever formed, the landscape of the world would change. Such was the consensus among the gossips who discussed the Jianghu.
"……Even so, I cannot trust a martial artist of the Deep Martial Alliance."
Wiji Myo-hwa's gaze was steadfast.
Protect Jeong Hye. Tread carefully, testing even the slightest possibility like tapping a stone bridge before crossing. If I die doing so, then so be it...
Her spirit was beautiful. It was the face of someone Flash Art had once called a great hero.
As she stared at the young woman, Baek Seo-gun's smile deepened.
"You are a loyal child. With your spirit alone, you could discuss the fate of the world. No wonder Flash Art associated with you."
"Flash Art...?"
Wiji Myo-hwa's eyes widened slightly. Baek Seo-gun calmly continued.
"I have heard the rumors, and I know you have a connection with the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. I do as well. A connection no less deep than yours. It has been passed down from the previous generation, and we shared a bond through the sword."
"What do you mean?"
"Have you ever shared a drink with him? Since you possess the comprehension worthy of being called Shaanxi's number one rising star, even memories from years ago must be as vivid as today's events," Baek Seo-gun asked abruptly.
Wiji Myo-hwa could not answer immediately. However, the grey-haired Sword Venerable paid her silence no mind and continued.
"Whether it was alcohol or tea, it does not matter. If you have mastered the eye technique of a prestigious Orthodox sect, you would have noticed Flash Art's habits. He has a habit of observing his opponent every time he holds a cup. Even then, he does not grasp it hastily; he brushes it with his fingertips, and only when the person opposite him raises their cup does he lift his own. Every single time. It is as if walking on eggshells has become second nature to him. Even though he was born into a wealthy family and must have learned the tea ceremony early on."
"……!"
"I was curious. Was it because he was wary of me, or was it because he grew up in a household where he had to act that way? If he only did it with me, it would have been the former. But looking at your face... that is not the case."
The breath in Baek Seo-gun's voice grew heavier, tinged with bitterness.
Wiji Myo-hwa's eyebrows shot up. Her expression betrayed both surprise and confusion.
"So it was indeed true," Baek Seo-gun murmured, her long eyelashes cast downward. "Jeong Pan-ak brings me shame. Endlessly. It seems that madman treated his own child like that. If I had been there, it would have been different..."
The emotion in her monologue was deep and natural, laced with shame and anger. It was so genuine that her talking to herself did not seem awkward at all. The slight twist of her lips was the same. It was an expression Wiji Myo-hwa had never imagined she would see on the face of Henan Province's Sword Venerable.
Shaanxi and Henan bordered each other, and Wiji Myo-hwa had long heard of the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost's renown. Sword Venerable Baek Seo-gun was an absolute master who had no need to feign emotion. Her claim of sharing a drink with Jeong Yeon-shin was no lie either.
Wiji Myo-hwa had enjoyed tea with Flash Art multiple times during his stay at Mount Zhongnan. She remembered even the minute habits that the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost had just mentioned.
‘She is Junior Brother Jeong's half-sister...’
Could he not have been at peace in his family? Even though he seemed like a perfect young noble.
"…I will draw my sword. Please allow this junior to keep a distance of one chi," she said. It meant she would lead the way with her sword tip held close. She was accepting the Sword Venerable's goodwill in a situation where help was desperately needed.
Her condition—to be ready to thrust her sword in case of an emergency—was bold.
‘Her Body Protection Qi must be solid. Inflicting a mere scratch would be my limit,’ Wiji Myo-hwa thought.
The Sword Venerable's reaction speed would also far exceed her own. But she had no choice. She had already left Jeong Hye alone for nearly three days, and the Net of Heaven and Earth cast by the two Thirteen Heavens sects was constantly tightening. Just now, the sharp sound of a whistling arrow echoed from afar. It was difficult for Wiji Myo-hwa to make any other choice.
Baek Seo-gun raised her head, not particularly angered by the precaution. She merely nodded slowly.
"Just quicken your pace."
They did not speak after that.
The two moved as if flying. Utilizing their profound Body Protection Scriptures, they headed down toward a nameless canyon in the Qinling Mountains. They had no hesitation in descending, and the cave nestled between the massive cliffs rapidly drew near.
Landing on the ground, the Sword Venerable and the Sword Dragon stepped inside.
A gloomy wind, sounding like the wailing of ghosts, brushed past them. A hollow breeze tugged at their collars, and the stone walls shrouded in faint darkness instantly fell silent.
"Ah……" Wiji Myo-hwa groaned.
There was no one in the cave.
Faint sunlight filtered through a slight crack in the ceiling. The flattened grass where the child had previously curled up basked in the light in silence.
All around it, shattered fragments of a sword lay scattered in disarray.
* * *
Xi'an, Shaanxi.
It was a land where endless complexes of pavilions stretched out, even with Mount Zhongnan nearby. Its scale was on an entirely different level compared to other regions of Shaanxi Province. It was teeming with people. Merchants chatted as they packed up their stalls, waiters hung lanterns above tavern entrances in the dead of night, and wanderers searched for an alley to rest their bodies...
It was incredibly vast.
Even in years of famine, massive amounts of goods flowed in and out through the caravans of merchant groups and escort agencies. As a metropolis that had flourished for a very long time since before the founding of the nation, it was a place where crowds of all social classes lived busy lives. Even after sunset, it was filled with a lively energy composed of various temperaments.
The brutal strike of Gal Do-jin, the Chivalrous Sword of Xi'an, was no exception to this lively energy.
Crash!
He grabbed a man by the back of the head and slammed him into a table. Instantly, the aftershock of the released force blew outward like a gust of wind. Cracks spread in all directions from the point of impact on the man's forehead, and soon the wooden table shattered into pieces and collapsed. The man slumped forward, sprawling lifelessly on the floor.
"This bastard has nothing on him. Clear him out," Gal Do-jin muttered with cold eyes, his splendid silk robe untouched by the violence.
The tavern was illuminated by rows of orange lanterns hanging from the ceiling. It was an establishment under the management of the Exalted Remaining Lands Sect, which was subservient to Lingering Spirit of the Thirteen Heavens. Gal Do-jin was the First Guardian of the Exalted Remaining Lands Sect, and his moniker "Chivalrous Sword" was merely an alias used by the Heterodox Sects to self-aggrandize.
"……"
The customers kept their voices down, silently moving their chopsticks. Due to the recurring bad harvests that had started some time ago, the protection of the Great Zhongnan Sect had also vanished from the area. In such times, the status of those who could afford to buy food at a fine tavern could not be ordinary. At the very least, they were of a caliber that would not even spare a glance at a common brawl.
A sturdy subordinate obeyed the command, and the unconscious man was dragged away.
A boy standing beside Gal Do-jin chuckled. He wore a bright blue hero's headband over his sharp, clear eyes, looking every bit the talented youth of the Black Path Murim. Privately, he was also Gal Do-jin's sworn brother.
The boy spoke. "Aren't there more people eating and running lately?"
"Speak accurately. There are just more parasites. Shameless ones at that," Gal Do-jin replied with an indifferent face.
The boy, So Yu-rang, the Young Hero of Xi'an, laughed. "Why did you let him leave alive? He's a guy who tried to taste delicacies at Xi'an's finest tavern without a single penny. You should have broken his limbs at least... If you want, should I go after him? Can I kill him? I can use this chance to refine my sword path a bit."
"I told them to drag him out and kill him outside, so as not to ruin the appetite of our esteemed guests."
"Is that really necessary...?"
"Haven't there been plenty of bastards who wet themselves in pain? Cleaning up costs money too. Time is money."
"Ah, right. This little brother's thinking was shallow. It's because I've been so engrossed in Zhongnan martial arts lately."
"Pay extra attention to your training. The Sect Leader is cutting you some slack."
"I'm getting sick of hearing that."
"You crazy bastard. The Nine Yang First Form you were bestowed is the martial art that the Zhongnan Sect's Sword Dragon made her signature technique. If not for this incident, it's a divine art you wouldn't have even dreamed of laying eyes on. So stop thinking about that damn gambling and focus on improving your achievements, shouldn't you?"
"Don't use fancy words with me. As if we didn't all know you're a failed scholar who returned to the countryside."
"Why, you...!"
These Unorthodox martial artists were casually speaking of the legacy of the Sword Sect, which Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress had once restored alongside the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan. Even though Zhongnan's lay sects were established throughout Shaanxi, no one dared to say a word in its defense.
With the annihilation of the Zhongnan Sect as the turning point, the ecology of Xi'an had changed rapidly. Minions of the Hegemon Sword Sect and Lingering Spirit had pushed in, intervening in all lucrative interests, including merchant groups, escort agencies, and shops along the official roads. Even government officials, including the Branch Head and the county magistrate, were swayed by wealth. In times of famine, any resource was precious. Even benevolent, clean-handed officials had no choice but to yield.
Xi'an's new order had solidified in the blink of an eye. The sight of the patrons currently engrossed in their meals in silence was proof of this. Though martial artists were scattered here and there among the merchants and commoners, not a single one raised their head.
This remained true until a biting winter wind suddenly swept in through the gap of the tavern door as it opened once more.
Whoosh—
A figure stepped inside, enveloped in a clear aura. Perhaps carrying a weight far greater than his visible build suggested, his footsteps were strangely heavy and loud.
Step.
It was a boy who had grown to a decent height. His long, drooping eyelashes cast faint shadows over his eyes. With features as distinct as a painting, he possessed an uncannily calm atmosphere. As the door closed with a creak, the black cloak covering the guest down to his ankles fluttered long behind his back. Beneath the outer garment tied around his neck, a plain white sleeve was briefly revealed before being hidden again.
"Welcome!"
A waiter clad in brown hemp clothes, despite the winter chill, stepped forward. He had been watching the banter between the Chivalrous Sword and the Young Hero of Xi'an from a corner.
"Are you alone? It's a harsh world to travel by yourself." Smiling to himself, the waiter asked in an insinuating tone.
It sounded strange. The atmosphere of the tavern was completely subdued, a familiar sight in the new Xi'an. It was close to a lawless zone where the Laws of the Great Ming held no meaning.
"Three more will arrive. I was told we couldn't sleep here, so I had them look for a place to stay," the unfamiliar guest replied readily.
The waiter nodded with a deep smile. "The great heroes of the Exalted Remaining Lands Sect are staying here. Thanks to them, our tavern still boasts world-class delicacies."
"Are there any seats?"
Watching from afar, So Yu-rang's eyebrows twitched. The Exalted Remaining Lands Sect was known in the vicinity as the proxy sect of Lingering Spirit of the Thirteen Heavens. Its authority was immense. This meant they were not in a position to be casually ignored by a wandering stranger.
"A mere novice in the Jianghu." So Yu-rang clenched and unclenched his fist.
Gal Do-jin naturally noticed his sworn brother's rising anger but did not bother to stop him. Having mastered the Sword Dragon's Nine Yang First Form, So Yu-rang was worthy of being discussed as the strongest among his peers in Shaanxi. It was enough for Gal Do-jin to silently observe the cloaked wanderer.
‘His appearance is quite neat. His complexion is good, and there's no sign of emaciation. That means he's been eating well,’ Gal Do-jin thought. An uncommon appearance.
A young noble from a decent family had come out, hiding his identity. The reason was hard to tell. If it was a trivial matter, his martial prowess would be nothing special, but if it was a grave mission, he would hide his martial arts just as he hid his identity. Disciples who received secret orders from great sects were adept at hiding their martial prowess to the very end.
Step.
By then, So Yu-rang was striding toward the guest. A Heterodox martial artist who had established his own territory was closer to a beast than a human. They strictly followed the law of the jungle. They prioritized the sword in their hand over the Laws of the Great Ming, making them 'Heterodox,' and they used their strikes as a means to vent their emotions, making them 'Demonic.' In the eyes of someone who took the Four Books and Three Classics as common sense, they did not even look like human beings.
So Yu-rang's personality was exactly like that. It was extremely twisted.
He approached the cloaked boy, who was drinking the water poured by the waiter, without hesitation. He grinned broadly at the sight of the fellow who didn't even pretend to notice him. Someone who did not respect the face of the Xi'an Heterodox sects was not a guest, but an uninvited intruder. Raising the corners of his mouth, So Yu-rang mimicked the words and actions of his sworn brother, Gal Do-jin.
"Your way of speaking and your demeanor violate the laws of Xi'an. The moment you finish drinking that water, you will definitely have to receive a lesson from me. I'm thinking of starting by snapping that windpipe of yours..."
Just then.
It began right at the lips of the uninvited guest as he raised his cup.
Sssss—
The wooden cup began to turn into powder. A faint dust caught the orange lantern light and scattered like an illusion. It crumbled finely, disintegrating right down to the fingertips holding the cup. It was as if he had brought the sunset itself to his smooth, calloused fingers. It was an incredibly natural yet completely alien sight.
So Yu-rang's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
"What?" Jeong Yeon-shin, having completely pulverized the water cup, spat out shortly.