Chapter 254: High-Level (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 254: High-Level (4)
“……”
The martial artists in the area were momentarily lost for words.
Masters of internal cultivation were, by necessity, thoroughly versed in the human body. Without a complete understanding of the body’s acupoints and meridians, one could never achieve the Great Heavenly Cycle of true qi.
Thus, the sight of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing opening his eyes was nothing short of a miracle. Everyone present had a clear grasp of the sword wounds and internal injuries he had sustained. Not a single person had failed to examine their commander’s condition.
“Could it be… a final radiance?”
“Huh? What did you just say?”
The Demonlight Wing was a collective of hardened warriors. The man who had spoken so rashly was promptly struck in the solar plexus by the back of Cheong-myeong’s hand, forcing him to stumble back. Meanwhile, Baek Mi-ryeo and Heonwon Chang crouched down by their commander’s head.
“How many…?”
“Five.”
Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly, his eyes shifting away from the outstretched hand of the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress, all five of its fingers spread.
His gaze drifted upward, settling on the slender jawline of the Mount Hua Sect Leader. Still lying down, Jeong Yeon-shin merely rolled his eyes to look up at her.
“My body is in poor condition, so I must greet such an esteemed guest in this manner. I ask for your understanding.”
He returned the exact words Lady Yul-ha had spoken when she first blocked his path. He had no particular intention behind it.
The Saint Flower Sword God of the Mount Hua Sect seemed to take it that way as well. She merely curled the corners of her lips into a slight, elegant smile, like a white plum blossom. A subtle fragrance wafted from her—a scent perceptible only through one’s sense of qi.
Overwhelming, Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
If he had to give it a name, it was the scent of the sword. A sword scent. It was extremely dangerous. The intangible body protection qi enveloping her resembled a cluster of blossoms, poised to shatter and scatter at any moment. It felt as though she was constantly wreathed in the Myriad Blossoms Rain. Was this the ultimate secret of the Mount Hua Sect’s Twenty-Four Move Plum Blossom Sword?
He perceived all this without even activating the Sight of the Lowly. It was the realm of pure intuition.
I learned a great deal from the Sword Saint at the Martial World Alliance, but…
The Mount Hua Sect Leader was different. While he had seen an ever-changing, practical combativeness in the Sword Saint, Lady Yul-ha felt as if she stood upon a lofty, noble peak. Her very aura was ethereal and mysterious, as if she could work any miracle with a sword. She was truly worthy of the Nine Sects, which were said to possess the martial lineages of immortals.
“Do you find this humble Taoist so interesting?” Lady Yul-ha spoke, her smile never fading.
“They say the eyes of the Desolate Fortress's Flash Art are audacious, and it is true. It feels as though I am soaking in a bottomless hot spring on a famous mountain. It sends a shiver down my spine, yet the feeling is not unpleasant.”
She adjusted the sleeves of her pink robe. Her movements were elegant yet playful, but not at all ridiculous. This was the Jianghu, where the strong preyed on the weak. The conduct of an absolute powerhouse who held the power of life and death over everyone present had to be taken seriously.
“So, what do you see in this humble Taoist?” Lady Yul-ha asked.
She showed no sign of displeasure. Instead, she tilted her head, prompting an answer. She was curious to know how she appeared in the eyes of a genius rarely seen in the world—an attitude befitting a practitioner of the Nine Sects. Since they both acknowledged each other’s insight, it was difficult for him to refuse.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke immediately. It had been a while since he felt such a surge of inspiration, not since his encounter with the Sword Saint. Having saved his niece, he could perhaps afford to indulge in a brief moment of pleasure.
“Just now, the waves of qi gathering at your collarbones resembled plum blossom petals, coexisting in two different tempos. Rather than the Five Elements, Six Harmonies, or Eight Trigrams, it seems you have dissolved the very boundaries of Taiji. Perhaps the ‘sunset’ of the Purple Mist Divine Art is an internal energy derived from that liminal state between day and night.”
“Oh?”
“A sharp yet blunt internal energy barrier flows endlessly across your entire body, and the way you have woven your body protection qi from sword qi is deeply impressive. Seeing such a structure of internal power, the world of martial arts truly seems boundless. I can only thank you for showing me a state where offense and defense are one.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke softly.
With this, he had obtained a clue to body protection qi. Although the Mount Hua Sect was not famous for its internal energy barriers, it seemed that peerless masters, worthy of comparison to the Purple Ranks of the Desolate Fortress, transcended the typical mastery of internal energy and weaponry, overcoming the limits of their own martial arts. The Sword Saint had been the same. When encountered up close, a terrifying depth was revealed.
Speaking while lying flat on his back was hardly a good look, and his body was in too much pain to even offer a proper fist-and-palm salute. He had no choice but to show his respect with a slight flutter of his eyelids.
“To allow my gaze… the spirit of the orthodox Nine Sects is indeed pure and upright. I am indebted to you, Sect Leader.”
His tone, at least, was extremely polite.
Lady Yul-ha’s white chin lifted slightly as she cast her gaze toward the distant sky.
“…We are, after all, a pure Taoist sanctuary. Our teachings differ from those of the secular world. The temperament of our sect has always resembled Mount Hua itself. The vegetation that grows through the barren, rocky mountains is so clear and green; I only wished for all my disciples to be like that.”
“It truly seems so,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied with unreserved admiration, even nodding his head. The dignity of a Nine Sects leader was dazzling, an aura that made her difficult to approach.
“…Indeed, your praise is quite pleasing. Focus on your recovery.”
Lady Yul-ha gave her sleeves a grand flick.
“Let us return.”
She commanded her disciples, no longer wishing to meet Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze.
Yu-hyeon, who had been standing by blinking, hurriedly looked up.
“Master!”
“I said, let us return.”
“But I finally met my friend…”
“Soon, the Shaanxi martial world will become a war zone. With the Hegemon Sword Sect, the Blood Flame Cult, and Lingering Spirit all running rampant, how can we afford to be leisurely? Did you not see the letter from the Beggar Sect?”
“……”
“The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect and the First Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult are major problems. Zhongnan has been destroyed, and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing is lying there after fulfilling his duty. Do not bother a peerless master who defeated the Ghost Soul Divine Sword and Shaanxi’s Number One Demon. If you cannot wish him a speedy recovery, at least do not disturb him.”
Lady Yul-ha turned on the spot.
Swoosh.
With her white-socked feet, she stepped only on the very tips of the grass, clear dew falling quietly from the leaves. It was the footwork of Grass-Gliding. A quiet yet eye-catching elegance flowed from her—a lofty dignity, like a plum blossom in full bloom. But to Yu-hyeon’s eyes, she simply looked like she was running away. The young Taoist thought, I know exactly how she feels.
“Sigh…”
“I’ll send word. I don’t think I can move from Shaanxi for the time being,” Jeong Yeon-shin said, glancing sideways at the sighing punching bag of the Mount Hua Sect.
From the Seven Great Sects of Xi’an and the Ghost Soul Divine Sword to the Shaanxi branch of Lingering Spirit, he had run without rest. It was truly time for recuperation.
Whoosh—
Suddenly, a clear wind blew. It was the harmony of nature, felt only now that the situation had settled. The winter wind, piercing through the gaps in the crowd, swept over his sleeping bag. The cool sensation brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin’s numb skin.
The members of the Demonlight Wing said nothing more to their commander. Seeing his conduct and speech toward the Mount Hua Sect Leader, they felt deeply reassured of his safety. They simply enjoyed the post-battle silence in their usual manner—a time to calm their heightened minds and bodies. This continued until, on one side, the Lazy Flame Dragon finally stood up.
“Hmm…? The Commander’s aura is incredibly faint. Did we succeed?”
“If you mean your burial, it’s about to begin,” one of the Demonlight Wing experts retorted.
After a brief explanation, the Lazy Flame Dragon tossed a cluster of bright red flowers onto a nearby grave.
“Where did you learn such a bad habit?”
“You scoundrel, I see another one in your shirt. Take them all out.”
“Damn it…”
*
The Burnt-White Sect.
It was a Zhongnan Lay Sect. As the only one among the seven unorthodox factions of Xi’an whose lineage had not been severed, they hosted the surviving disciples of the Zhongnan Sect and the Demonlight Wing as honored guests. This began a day after the escort agency, which the Shaanxi branch of Lingering Spirit had been using as a front, collapsed.
It was a sect once called a pillar of the Seven Great Sects of Xi’an. Its grounds were vast, even featuring a small lake and a pavilion deep within the manor. It was a space where only the most precious guests of a wealthy secular sect could stay; ordinary visitors could never dream of it.
Step.
A swordswoman walked forward cautiously, her jet-black hair hanging long down her back. Her blue robes fluttered in the winter wind with every step she took. She was a woman whose beautiful features harmonized with her sharp eyes: the Cloud Sword Dragon, Wiji Myo-hwa.
As the eldest disciple of the destroyed Zhongnan Sect, she had come to live in the clouds, just like her moniker. It was a case of hiding in plain sight. She was staying with the Demonlight Wing, concealed within the Burnt-White Sect, which was posing as an unorthodox faction.
“Benefactor,” she murmured.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who was sitting in the center of the dark brown pavilion, opened his eyes. It was an octagonal pavilion, open on all sides beneath its roof. Wiji Myo-hwa immediately met his gaze.
“Great Hero Sword Dragon.”
A faint smile touched his lips. The way Jeong Yeon-shin addressed Wiji Myo-hwa had not changed. It had remained the same since his days as a White Rank of the Desolate Fortress, even after he became a Unit Commander.
Wiji Myo-hwa only now realized this. Perhaps it was because she had come to revere Jeong Yeon-shin even more as her savior. She felt immensely relieved that he had killed Shaanxi’s Number One Demon and rescued Jeong Hye. Her sect had been destroyed; if despair had been piled on top of that, she would have surely collapsed under the weight of it all.
The word “benefactor” slipped easily from her lips. It felt even more natural than when he had restored the Nine Yang First Form for her on Mount Zhongnan.
“Was breakfast to your liking?”
“Yes. Thanks to being able to use chopsticks on my own again,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly, his voice carrying a hint of quiet pride.
It was after Shaanxi had turned into a battlefield for the Great Sect War. Seven days and nights had passed since he slew Shaanxi’s Number One Demon. He had only been able to move around since the day before yesterday, though large movements were still out of the question.
However, it was enough that he no longer had to be fed by his overbearing subordinates. This was thanks to the Jeong Family Dynamic Art accelerating his body’s recovery. He could now lightly hold utensils and brushes. Having reached a point where he could manage a tiny bit of his Halo Qi, he had just chased away his Demonlight Wing comrades. No one could withstand an enraged commander. They should have known better than to tease him so much.
“Ah,” Wiji Myo-hwa let out a soft laugh. “You have found peace.”
“Yes, a little.”
“No. I mean, more so than when you first climbed Mount Zhongnan.”
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a bit embarrassed.
“Come to think of it, didn’t you say you were traveling with the Sword Ghost of the Deep Martial Alliance?”
“…I received a great deal of help. It was a favor akin to saving my life.”
The image of Henan Province’s Sword Saint, Baek Seo-gun, crossed Wiji Myo-hwa’s mind.
Baek Seo-gun, who had crossed paths with the Hegemon Sword Sect and Lingering Spirit to save Jeong Hye, had said she would have to watch over the Flash Art for a long time. She seemed unaware that Jeong Yeon-shin was fated to die young.
It is not my place to speak of it.
Wiji Myo-hwa slowly parted her lips.
“An esteemed guest, no less noble than she, has come to visit you, Benefactor. Their status is extraordinary.”
“Are you referring to the Mount Hua Sect Leader? Or is her companion’s identity…”
“It is both. It is rather awkward to keep hiding as if I am not here. I am glad to see your perception of qi is as sharp as ever.”
The voice rang out clearly from behind a pillar. Lady Yul-ha walked out with light steps.
A man dressed in a green official’s robe accompanied her. Beneath his clean official hat, his eyes were sharp.
“Since I happened to visit Xi’an, I came along with someone who was looking for the Lord of the Vast Art Stronghold,” she said.
“I am Censor So Un,” the man said, offering no pleasantries. A faint hostility was written on his face.
“A censor?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.
“Indeed, leader of some upstart unorthodox sect. Branch Head Wang Wi-su was under my jurisdiction, and I have heard rumors that he was killed by the Lord of the Vast Art Stronghold. In short, I will be treating you as the prime suspect,” Censor So Un said.
—You worry over nothing. Starvation is common these days. The tax revenue from tributes won’t change much anyway. As long as there’s no change in the money going up, the rest is just connections and political power. Fortunately, the censor is also someone who understands my intentions well.
Recalling the Branch Head’s words, Jeong Yeon-shin cast his gaze toward Lady Yul-ha.
“Does he only know me as the Lord of the Vast Art Stronghold?”
“Is it the place of a humble Taoist like myself to speak first? If the censor deems it necessary for state affairs, one must comply. Besides, we share quite a long history.”
She replied with a broad smile. It meant she had lured a corrupt official into a trap.
Nodding silently, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.
“I shall hear the Sect Leader’s business first.”
“How dare you…!”
So Un’s lips trembled. He could not help but be enraged, even if the exchange between the Mount Hua Sect Leader and the Lord of the Vast Art Stronghold was strange.
As the sword of the imperial family, a censor exercised power that transcended their official rank. Rarely did anything fall outside their expectations. From the perspective of an official who had come to look down on martial artists even more because of the Desolate Fortress, the arrogant attitude of an unorthodox leader was intolerable.
Yet the Mount Hua Sect Leader, who should have been his ally, readily nodded at the rogue’s words.
“The world is in chaos, and Shaanxi is in even greater turmoil.”
“I know. I heard the rumors even while lying down.”
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the messages he had received in the meantime.
[Shaanxi, Gongchang Prefecture: The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect has appeared. Three sects in Gongchang Prefecture have been destroyed. Civilian casualties continue to mount.]
[Shaanxi, Fengxiang Prefecture: The First Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult, who defeated the Hwasan Sword Excellence, has slaughtered the commoners of Fengyu County. They appear to be searching for something, showing no mercy to commoners or martial artists alike.]
[Blood Ghosts of the Blood Flame Cult are spreading throughout Shaanxi. Clashes between martial artists break out constantly.]
“Please, have a seat here. You too, Great Hero Sword Dragon.”
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing swept aside the paper, brushes, ink, and books resting on the low table.
Through the gaps in his fingers, the cover of a book, still smelling of fresh ink, was briefly visible.
Draft of the Compendium of Demon Extermination.
Written by Flash Art.
The words, written in neat, regular script, caught the eyes of Lady Yul-ha and Wiji Myo-hwa as they stepped into the pavilion.