Chapter 240: Awakening (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 240: Awakening (4)
Meanwhile, the crowd gathering around the massive canyon had swelled to a terrifying size, the air buzzing with their noisy chatter.
It seemed as though the entire population of Xi'an, the ancient capital of a thousand years, was flocking to the site.
From begging vagrants to opulently dressed merchants, people occupied every peak. Some arrived in carriages, palanquins, and silk-draped wagons, their arrivals grand enough to be mistaken for royal processions.
This was the grand finale of a rare, monumental battle.
Some martial artists, who had come as third-party spectators, stood with arms crossed, balancing on the tips of tree branches. Others used the Gecko Technique to cling sideways to the sheer canyon walls, supported only by their feet.
"Shaanxi's interests are heavily at stake here. Are the identities of those people still unknown?"
"A sword technique that radiates light… Is it the Heaven's Bane of the Thirteen Heavens? Or perhaps those bastards from the Brightfolk who only take pure-bloods as disciples…"
"Will the sect leaders actually die? How long has it been since we've seen those Strange, Violent, Chaotic, and Supernatural figures band together? The monsters of the Unorthodox Factions possess all kinds of life-saving herbs…"
The voices of those whispering among themselves were incredibly loud.
"A futile effort."
Standing some distance away, Wi Il-hwa curled her lip as she watched Jeong Yeon-shin place his hand on a strand of the Thread Sword.
It wasn't a sneer, nor was it mockery.
"Did you think we hadn't anticipated a life-and-death duel between the leaders? Apart from demonstrating our martial army's might, our priority was to display the prowess of the Seven Great Sects' leaders to the entire world. The sudden death of the Sword Demon Sect Leader is hardly a major issue."
A certain satisfaction tinged her voice. She was watching the commander of the martial unit—the very man who had plunged her into an abyss—focusing his attention on something so trivial.
The joint attack of the sect leaders had taken shape, surrounding him completely. Wi Il-hwa's smile deepened.
She smiled deliberately, determined to find satisfaction only by witnessing his disgrace.
"You, outsider. Even in death, you will never be able to pay for your sins."
An unorthodox sect does not perish as long as its leader lives. The sect leader is the sect.
The Seven Great Sects of Xi'an would never relinquish their power.
Sssss—
A heavy wind tore through the web of the Thread Sword that Gi So-seul had laid out. It was a strike infused with the collective intent of the sect leaders.
The web, closing in on Jeong Yeon-shin from above, below, and all eight directions, was as dense as the desperate obsession of unorthodox masters facing a famine.
The same was true for Bu Jo-wi and Baek Mu-ryang, who were ready to strike from the left and right, and for Kang Mu-jeong, who stood at the rear, her fists gathered in the starting stance of the Earth-Shaking Thunderbolt Wave.
Standing tall, the very fluttering of their robes seemed to exude the dignity of sect leaders.
Meanwhile, the Lord of the Burnt-White Sect, a neat-looking man named Jang Il-gi, stood idly by with a peculiar expression, as if he had all the time in the world.
So this is the Jianghu at the unit commander level…
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly observed the faces of the six sect leaders.
They were filled with confidence, conviction, and desire. Not a single one showed any sign of yielding.
The strong who lived in the martial world. The rulers who had made their names in the raw, untamed Jianghu.
The scarcer resources became, the more they coveted their own power, using it to crush those around them and fill their own bellies.
Rivers and lakes have surfaces that ripple at the slightest breeze. Those ripples soon turn into massive currents.
Because the footsteps of the strong influenced everything in all directions, it was called the Jianghu—the rivers and lakes.
A world where masters of martial arts enforced their will from supreme heights, like mountain gods.
The Jeong Family Manor had been no different.
It had all started with a sidelong glance from the Elder Council Head of the Hegemon Sword Sect, who rode upon a sword. What had her brief glance at the ley lines brought about? The total annihilation of a wealthy family.
It was the place Mother had chosen.
Jeong Yeon-shin thought. He had even grown fond of the Dano Festival swings he had never gotten to ride.
He slowly parted his lips.
"You must have carried yourselves as the strong until now."
"And we shall continue to do so," Baek Mu-ryang, the Hwiwol Clan Leader, replied with a hearty, old-fashioned laugh.
Yeon-shin spoke no further.
Slide.
He gripped a strand of the Thread Sword firmly with his left hand.
A sharp pain flared in his palm. He slid his hand in a straight line along the thread that the Spectral Art Virtuoso, Gi So-seul, had laid out.
The web of Thread Swords caught the sunlight, flashing from all directions. Each strand was incredibly sharp, as if it contained its own sword qi.
Blood welled from his palm. He could feel it without looking, having gripped the thread so tightly that even his Body Protection Qi struggled to withstand it.
At the same time, the sharp strands of the Thread Sword began to tremble violently as they came into contact with the Brilliant River suppressed within his palm. The immense vibration spread outward through the web.
It's sturdy.
There was no sign of it snapping. He couldn't even tell how it was anchored. It was likely a form of sorcery unique to the heterodox paths, the so-called unorthodox ways.
Though it was clearly a type of sorcerous martial art, it felt incredibly natural. The way the threads swept through the air in all directions, like fishing lines cast into the sky, was remarkably fluid.
The Spectral Art Virtuoso, Gi So-seul.
When their eyes met, her thin lips curved into a faint arc. It was said she had played the zither before her fated encounter, and indeed, she carried herself like an artist.
Her posture was elegant as she extended the threads—which were akin to divine weapons—with both hands. She even appeared somewhat relaxed.
So one can become strong in this manner as well.
As one's martial prowess and status rose, the world one inhabited expanded, and so did one's horizons. Jeong Yeon-shin's Jianghu had expanded once again.
The new Commander of the Demonlight Wing was a top-tier expert, but not a seasoned veteran. As a rising star whose growth had only just begun, he could use every experience as nourishment.
This moment was no exception.
"His senses are bizarre! Don't let him do as he pleases!" Wi Il-hwa shouted from the other side. Though confident of victory, she was not careless. Her vigilance against a top-tier expert was thorough.
It meant she was highly experienced. The sect leaders were the same. They unleashed sinister shockwaves from both sides.
"Is there even a need for the Earth-Shaking Thunderbolt Wave? This is a joint attack from the start. Since we've cast aside our pride, we should kill him quickly," Bu Jo-wi muttered through his thick lips.
Then, as he slightly lifted his massive foot, the Thread Swords below parted to the left and right. Without hesitation, he stamped down.
Thud!
Simultaneously, Bu Jo-wi's upper body lunged forward. The great saber he had raised behind his back with both hands began to plunge downward.
As the surrounding strands of the Thread Sword scattered as if alive, the vegetation around him flattened.
Jeong Yeon-shin adjusted his grip on the hilt of the Northern Light Sword, which had been blocked by the thread below.
The moment he reversed his grip, he slashed straight upward as if snapping a spring. There was no formal style to his strike.
One who had fully prepared and unleashed a saber technique versus one who threw up an impromptu defense.
The moment his vision was dyed white by the clashing blades.
Clang!
A massive impact surged violently up his arm from the space between his thumb and index finger. The internal energy anchored at the Chize point of his elbow was rock-solid.
The recoil concentrated in his forearm. At the same time, the muscles refined by the Jeong Family Dynamic Art pulsed and his tendons tightened sharply.
The instant he gripped the hilt, his internal energy fused completely with the blade, surging into an overwhelming sword force.
Boom!
Though he had merely pushed upward, a deafening roar resounded. The tip of the Northern Light Sword swept past the tip of Bu Jo-wi's saber, scattering colorless shockwaves.
The skill produced by his once-in-a-millennium talent was sublime, even in the realm of raw power. The balance connecting his internal energy, muscles, and stance was in an entirely different league.
This was particularly prominent when fighting those of lesser caliber. Bu Jo-wi could not immediately find a way to compensate for his inferior talent.
Whoosh!
Bu Jo-wi's body flipped, momentarily suspended in midair. Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his sword and glanced up at him.
The wind billowing between them shook the surrounding vegetation, like spectators urging on a sword dance.
"What kind of sword force is this?!" Bu Jo-wi shouted with a voice transmission, unable to steady his body in midair.
Though directed at the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, it was meant for the other sect leaders to hear—a signal to follow up. Anxiety laced his tone.
That bastard is indeed the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. He cannot be dealt with one-on-one.
Jeong Yeon-shin read this as well. Such was the flow of battle. The other sect leaders surely knew it too.
Flutter!
The sound of robes flapping violently came from the left. There had been two vanguards from the start.
Alongside Bu Jo-wi, Baek Mu-ryang, the Hwiwol Clan Leader, was blocking the path to Gi So-seul, Wi Il-hwa, and Kang Mu-jeong.
He was a cunning veteran. While striving to protect the Thread Swords and their masters behind them, he consistently displayed excellent timing.
This was evident in how he thrust into the gap in breathing just as Jeong Yeon-shin was about to unleash a flurry of strikes.
It happened right after Wi Il-hwa let out a short whistle—a signal indicating the optimal moment.
Whoosh! Thud!
The heel of the man's palm thrust forward. The Moon-Shining Hegemon Art of the Seven Great Sects of Xi'an was said to be a martial art capable of responding in all directions.
His change of direction was swift, a sign he was adept at unleashing variations.
These bastards have deep internal energy by default. I can't kill them with a single blow.
The moment Jeong Yeon-shin raised his left hand, bundles of Thread Swords closed in from all directions.
They flashed with light, one after another, blocking his vision. If he advanced further, he would be cut. He had no choice but to hesitate.
At the same time, Baek Mu-ryang's feet crossed twice on the ground. His strike became deceptive. Residual shadows of his palm technique multiplied, as if he were executing an Illusion Sword with his bare hands.
He was unleashing the shockwave he had accumulated the moment Jeong Yeon-shin clashed with Bu Jo-wi.
Shockwaves struck the air from everywhere, enough to make his ears ring.
Crash!
Before he knew it, Wi Il-hwa had lunged straight ahead, slashing her sword down. Her scarlet silk sleeves fell, standing as rigid as blades.
It was a terrifyingly refined horizontal sword force. The sound of it tearing through the air was incredibly loud, matching her face, which was stretched wide in a grimace that was half-smile, half-scowl.
From the air to the right, Bu Jo-wi plunged down, gripping his great saber with both hands.
He had regained his stance before anyone realized. The roar of the surging saber shockwaves was like thunder, a technique clearly aimed at a delayed timing.
The situation shifted with extreme speed.
The tightening web of the Thread Sword, three distinct ultimate techniques exploding from three directions, and the woman at the rear twisting her waist, having finished accumulating her power.
They were strong. It was a joint attack unlike any he had seen before.
They were on a completely different level from their subordinates. It was just as the rumors said: only the sect leaders monopolized the sect's spirit medicines, secret manuals, and all other benefits.
They were indeed worthy of representing the unorthodox factions. They were truly worthy of being called unorthodox sect leaders.
Kyahahaha!
A bizarre laugh erupted from behind Baek Mu-ryang's shoulder. It was the laughter of Gi So-seul, who was manipulating the Thread Swords.
Delivered via voice transmission, it sounded incredibly eerie. Was she telling him to carry his resentment to the Sanzu River?
Slide.
Jeong Yeon-shin placed his left finger on a strand of the Thread Sword that was tightening toward his skin. Suddenly, Gi So-seul's laughter ceased.
Hum—
With a resonant hum, a translucent boundary appeared along his hand.
Soon, like tearing paper over a doorframe, a thin line trailed down in a gentle curve, following his descending finger.
Through that gap, hazes of light slowly revealed themselves.
Shortly after, Jeong Yeon-shin's hand broke through the boundary between sorcery and martial arts, seizing the bundle of threads Gi So-seul had laid out. He had reached out with his senses, and his hand had found them.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing thought casually:
This looks interesting. It should be mine.
A lightning-like brilliance flashed through the Baihui point on his head. The threads of True Qi he had sent out earlier analyzed the Thread Sword technique of the Spectral Art Virtuoso.
Where it bent, how it was anchored, and at what angle the internal energy had to be moved to manifest the intended effect.
An understanding born of his sense of qi spread like a flash of lightning. Because it was a matter of sorcery, any parts he could not comprehend were substituted with internal energy techniques.
His talent, which allowed him to live ten days in a single day, blazed like a thunderbolt in his mind. It ruthlessly shattered the cliff that lay between ordinary achievement and time, reducing it to hollow ash.
And just like that, suddenly.
His analysis of the strange weapon was complete. It was a comprehension akin to deciphering a formation, and it was extremely precise.
Taking control of the Thread Sword was easy. In terms of the ability to manipulate and project internal energy, Jeong Yeon-shin had overwhelmed Gi So-seul from the very beginning.
Following the wheel of light spinning within his heart, the Law-Transcending Halo Qi rose like a tidal wave.
Simultaneously, Gi So-seul's internal energy was utterly pushed out and scattered from the strands of the Thread Sword.
In the next instant.
The resilient threads embroidered all eight directions with beams of brilliant light, as if space itself were being carved into dozens of slices.
Hum!
The resonance of the Brilliant River he had infused earlier sprouted from the strands of the Thread Sword. The metallic threads resonated together along Jeong Yeon-shin's fingers.
They could not penetrate his fingers, which now possessed the exact same internal power wave. Instead, they seemed to serve a new master.
They whispered to him, telling him to lightly place his fingers and pluck the True Qi.
The sensation surged from his palm to his mind, incredibly vivid.
Like this.
Following that feeling, he swept his hand delicately as if playing a zither. The strands of the Thread Sword released soft, metallic notes one after another. The resonance was deep.
At the same time.
Flash!
The gold-flashing threads surged upward explosively. A white-hot sensation flared in his Upper Dantian, the thought process so fast it was as if time had frozen.
His strike was as swift as lightning. It enveloped Wi Il-hwa, Bu Jo-wi, Baek Mu-ryang, and the other enemies, along with dozens of paulownia trees, like a net.
As the unorthodox sect leaders were instantly bound and pinned to the tree trunks, the beams of the Thread Sword radiated an indifferent brilliance in the sunlight.
"Gi So-seul! What are you doing?!"
"No, this is… crazy…!"
"Aaaaargh! Mine! It's mine!"
Bu Jo-wi screamed hysterically, Wi Il-hwa's eyes widened in shock, and Gi So-seul collapsed like a madwoman, shrieking.
Only Baek Mu-ryang, his beard severed strand by strand, unleashed his energy wave, his body already stained with blood.
From afar.
Inhale—
The long breath drawn by Kang Mu-jeong of the Time-Day Mountain-Collapsing Fist stopped faintly, as if seeping into her very soul. She locked the inhaled internal energy within her body, adding a fraction of immense strength.
In an instant, the surrounding air shifted. As the domain of her fist strike expanded like an incoming tide, the winds were pushed back in reverse.
Whoosh!
The preparation for the Earth-Shaking Thunderbolt Wave was complete.
Belatedly, the momentum surging from her entire body revealed an explosive presence.
The moment her bright red robe appeared exceptionally vivid, Kang Mu-jeong leaned forward and thrust her fist.
It was a straight punch, a posture that put everything into a single blow. Her starting stance had been perfect.
The bombardment of her fist’s Fa Jin, rushing forward in a colorless haze, was enough to evoke Shaolin's Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
Boom!
At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin's pitch-black sleeve fluttered.
Rustle.
He stood, stepping on a single strand of the Thread Sword.
In that instant, the massive web of golden light moved as one to block the path ahead.
He calculated the trajectory by reverse-engineering the shockwave structure of her Fa Jin, which was based on the sixty-four hexagrams. He erected a defensive wall of threads between himself and Kang Mu-jeong.
Hum—!
At the midpoint, colorless waves rippled outward. The shockwave of the fist strike that passed through the golden web shattered like sea foam in a surreal display.
The moment astonishment appeared for the first time on Kang Mu-jeong's serene face, a beam of light wrapped diagonally around her body.
"It's light. This wouldn't work against a top-tier expert."
It feels like I'm only accumulating parlor tricks, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing murmured, standing on a beam of light with his hands behind his back. His resolute eyes were honed like blades.
"Wait… If you kill us like this, the order of Xi'an will…!"
"I am the leader of Xi'an's Hwiwol Clan! I can give you many things!"
"Give it back! Give me back my Light Web!"
From the tree trunks, Wi Il-hwa, Baek Mu-ryang, and Gi So-seul spat out their respective pleas while bound. Bu Jo-wi of the End-of-Heaven Saber Sect merely twitched his lips, his expression telling him to just kill them.
In the blink of an eye, the tables had turned. Such was the volatile nature of a life-or-death duel between masters.
"My sect's primary tenet is not to take prisoners," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
It was a lesson learned when the Hegemon Sword Sect annihilated the Jeong Family Manor. As a great sect positioned between the Orthodox and Unorthodox, the Desolate Fortress's methods leaned closer to the latter. They were not government officials.
The Jianghu was a savage world that followed the law of the jungle, and the Desolate Fortress held no expectation that martial artists wielding immense power could ever be reformed.
Those who wielded power like petty gods would only exploit, kill, and enslave the common folk. Uprooting such threats entirely was far more beneficial to the people. This was a perspective shared by both the Desolate Fortress and the state.
"You have enjoyed yourselves enough. Now, die."
Rustle.
The moment the Commander of the Demonlight Wing’s leather boot pressed down on another strand of the Thread Sword, it was over. The unorthodox sect leaders were given no time for regret, remorse, or even relief.
The cruel laughter Gi So-seul had unleashed earlier was now returned to them as killing intent. They died with nothing but despair on their faces.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed in all directions, scattering dry winter grass into the air.
In that same instant, the canyon fell silent.