Chapter 256: High-Level (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 256: High-Level (6)
A pitch-black leather shoe pressed onto the dirt. Pine needles and frost crunched underfoot.
A boy wrapped in a black robe was climbing the slope. With a single travel pack slung over his shoulder, he slowly surveyed his surroundings.
Even in winter, the mountain range stretched out in lush, beautiful green. It was a view befitting the tallest peak of the Qinling Mountains.
Jeong Yeon-shin breathed in the cold air.
Each translucent breath that escaped his lips caught the sunlight, turning it white.
The shafts of light filtering through the trees were warm, yet the air held a deep chill—a contradiction that mirrored the life of a seventeen-year-old master destined to die at nineteen.
He could feel the pulse of life from the vast nature unfolding before him. This place teemed with an extraordinary Earth Qi.
‘Mount Taibai.’
It had rapidly risen to prominence, capturing the attention of all Shaanxi.
The scale of this gathering was on another level entirely.
It was said that every notable warrior from across a land the size of a nation had gathered here.
Unlike Jeong Yeon-shin, the others made no attempt to conceal their auras, letting waves of internal energy wash over the mountain range.
It was, quite literally, a sea of people. Countless crowds swarmed the area.
Men and women of all kinds filled the trails.
Some carried great sabers on their backs, while others had daggers peeking from their sleeves. Ornate tassels hung from the swords at their waists. One man wore heavy handguards, exuding a formidable aura, while dozens of martial artists from prestigious families had arrived in matching uniforms.
Alongside swordsmen from prestigious sects were vagrant mercenaries who sold their skills for scraps. One could tell from their shabby attire and the murderous intent in their eyes.
They were all wary of one another, either hiding their presence entirely or displaying blatant hostility.
But they all exuded the same atmosphere. The metallic tang of their weapons was tinged with the scent of blood. Even the drifters, drawn by mere rumors of the spirit herb, had killed before.
It was a scent that could never be washed away, carried on the waves of their internal energy—just as it clung to Jeong Yeon-shin's Northern Light sword.
He arrived at the entrance to the mountain path. The wide trail was packed with a bustling crowd of martial artists.
“We arrived just in time. No one is coming down the mountain, and there are no rumors of anyone having harvested it yet.”
“Don’t trust rumors. You can’t trust anyone here.”
“Look at that. Even the martial artists from prestigious families couldn't maintain their dignity and came rushing over.”
With such an immense crowd, the air was filled with all kinds of chatter.
They sized each other up, observed one another's breathing, and casually exchanged information. This was already a battlefield.
“I heard that the noble young masters and ladies from the Ice Palace have been climbing the mountain in droves.”
“The Ice Palace? If you’re going to joke, at least make it believable. This is Shaanxi, not the North Sea. How long has it been since the rumors of the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root started spreading? There’s no way people from so far away could have known beforehand.”
“A joke? Look around you! They say the immortals of the Mount Hua Sect and even the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect are coming! Is anything impossible at this point?”
“Careful with your words! Talk of freezing to death might just summon the Ice Soul Divine Palm and get us all killed!”
It seemed it wasn't just people from Shaanxi who had gathered. All sorts of dialects could be heard, some barely intelligible.
This was clearly strange.
The lands of the Ming Dynasty were unimaginably vast. Shaanxi Province alone was comparable in size to most nations. This meant travel time alone was a significant hurdle.
Even Jeong Yeon-shin, as the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, had only caught wind of the rumors about the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root early on. Yet, the mountain range was already a scene of utter chaos.
His eyes swept over the surrounding martial artists.
At a glance, they seemed formidable, but most looked more concerned with their next meal than with mastering the martial path.
‘Will it be different further up? It seems masters from the great sects have arrived as well.’
Jeong Yeon-shin moved forward, attempting to blend into the crowd.
But he could not blend in easily.
As they conversed among themselves, more and more people began to steal glances at the unfamiliar boy.
It was not because they sensed any unusual energy from him.
His pitch-black hair fell to his shoulders, swaying with a natural luster. Beneath his brow, where the sunlight fell, his exceptionally beautiful face drew everyone's gaze.
His features had grown more distinct as death drew nearer, just as the state of his limbs changed day by day.
He looked different even from when he had first attained the Black Rank. Only his eyes remained as solitary and quiet as ever.
“Is he of the Brightfolk?”
“No. Look at his ears.”
“He looks to be of noble birth, and he seems to know how to handle a blade. Probably a disciple of a prestigious sect.”
Many whispered among themselves.
However, the attention did not last long.
The place was already teeming with people of noble status and superhuman strength, far more interesting than a pretty face. They were too busy gauging each other's martial prowess and observing the mountain terrain.
Above all, the stranger was far too young.
“Even a swordsman that young… Good grief, everyone from the cradle to the grave is climbing this mountain.”
“Let’s just worry about ourselves. How many roots of that fleeceflower do you think there are?”
“You’ve got your priorities straight, brother.”
Gradually, people stopped their idle chatter and began their ascent, their vigilance sharp.
They climbed while scanning their surroundings, their gazes like shockwaves, ready to draw their swords at a moment's notice.
‘The ones staying behind have given up on searching. They intend to ambush whoever comes down with the fleeceflower root.’
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin was casually taking a step, a voice called out.
“Young hero! No, young master!”
He felt it through his senses. The call was directed precisely at him. The presence rushing toward him confirmed it.
Turning his head, he saw a boy bowing deeply.
His sun-tanned skin and steady breathing were impressive, but what stood out most was his earth-colored hemp clothing on a winter mountain. Was he not cold?
Jeong Yeon-shin stopped. “What is it?”
“My name is Jang Sun-il! Please hire me as your guide! It’s obvious at a glance that this is your first time here!”
He raised his head, performing a clasped-hand salute. The gesture was awkward, unpracticed. He seemed so unaccustomed to formal etiquette that other climbers chuckled as they passed.
The current Commander of the Demonlight Wing was not used to conversing with strangers who harbored no ill intent.
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly.
“Why should I?”
“I was born here in Baoji and grew up eating the wild herbs of this mountain, so I know the geography inside and out! I may not look like much, but I’m a herb gatherer and an alchemist! We gatherers have our own secret eye technique, and I can read the terrain incredibly well! I already know all the spots where a spirit herb like the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root would grow!”
He poured out the words in a rapid stream, his lively cadence pleasant to the ear.
He certainly knew how to sell himself.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s clear eyes reflected Jang Sun-il’s figure.
Judging by his deep, slender breaths, he had properly mastered the Three Talents Mental Method promulgated by the Imperial Court. It must have helped make the barren land slightly more fertile during the famine years. His lower body also looked sturdy, a sign of someone who frequently climbed mountains.
Had he lived in Xinye County, where the Jeong Family Manor was, this boy’s extraordinary qualities would have made him quite popular.
“What do you want in return?”
“If we find the fleeceflower root, I just want a handful of the soil where it grew!”
A story could be glimpsed behind his spirited reply.
Even after hearing Jang Sun-il's introduction, more people simply walked past them. To them, it merely looked like the groundless bravado of two youths. A herb gatherer’s eye technique was like a myth—hardly something anyone would believe in. Furthermore, such an eye for terrain was built through years of experience. These two were far too young.
However, Jeong Yeon-shin's vision, enhanced by the Sight of the Lowly, saw beyond that.
‘Was he waiting for someone who caught his eye?’
The boy possessed an extraordinary talent in his own right. Something innate. He was similar to himself.
“You looked extraordinary at a single glance, you see.”
A sliver of desperation bled through the boy’s grinning face.
Mount Taibai had descended into pandemonium, a mountain of blades and a forest of swords. The martial artists capable of carving a path through the Jianghu would never spare a glance for a mere boy. The true masters of the Martial World would have brought far more reliable guides, whether through force or wealth. They lacked the Upper Dantian abilities of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
“You may have as much of the soil as you like.”
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded.
* * *
Jang Sun-il’s pathfinding skills were indeed extraordinary.
Even the way he stepped was different. With each step, the tip of his foot shifted three times.
He explained it was a process of tracing the earth veins connected to any spirit herbs that might have recently sprouted. Within fifteen minutes, they had entered a secluded area.
There was no wasted movement in his footwork. Even to Jeong Yeon-shin, he appeared to be quite a master.
‘Should I place my hand on the crown of his head?’
As he followed silently, an idle thought drifted into his mind.
It was the first time he’d had such a thought since dedicating himself to training, which meant he finally had some peace of mind. Jeong Yeon-shin immediately raised his right hand.
As he slightly curled his fingers, the tendons on his wrist tensed. Blue veins bulged along his forearm.
Step.
His pace slowed slightly.
The fine muscles wrapping his entire body were tuned to his will, tightened to maximize the efficiency of the Law-Transcending Halo Qi.
‘With this level of durability, I won’t be able to endure it.’
He lightly swung his right arm as if holding a sword.
Swoosh.
He repeated the motion. His hand gradually blurred. To Jang Sun-il, who glanced back, it was a baffling sight.
“What are you doing?”
“Training.”
“I mean, why do it here of all places?”
“I was told that the key to training is repetition, regardless of time or place.”
“The person who taught you, young master? Your master?”
“No… all the slow-witted people I know did it this way.”
“Pardon?”
“There was something to learn from them. I just hadn’t realized it before.”
Jeong Yeon-shin answered all his seemingly trivial questions. Jang Sun-il was an amiable boy.
Rustle.
Their peaceful climb continued. Clear, crisp air brushed against them at every bend of the mountain path.
Because he was focused on training while following, he hadn't spread his senses widely, which ironically made the winter mountain scenery feel even more vivid.
Even as urgent shouts echoed from afar, the yellowish-brown pine needles swayed gently.
“The Blood Flame Cult! It’s the Blood Ghosts of the Blood Flame Cult!”
“Ahahaha—!”
“Let’s avoid them,” Jeong Yeon-shin said calmly.
It was right after he heard that smooth, mad laughter. It was highly familiar, a voice like jade beads rolling on a tray.
“This way, escape this way! The path is open… No, they’ve blocked it! Cunning bastards!”
A young man’s pale face appeared over the ridge. He was a rising star, holding a brilliant spear over his blue-sleeved uniform.
Did he mistake Jeong Yeon-shin’s slightly curled hand for the opening stance of a claw technique? His reaction was incredibly swift. The hand gripping the spear shaft pulled back in an instant.
“He looks weak! I’ll break through here!”
A flash of light erupted from his hand. In an instant, the spear vanished.
Swoooosh!
It was a perfectly thrown spear, as fast as a bolt of lightning.
By then, Jeong Yeon-shin was already stepping in front of Jang Sun-il, his right hand extended.
Thud! Shhhk!
The spearhead struck the center of his palm with a dull thud. A violent shockwave erupted from the impact.
The surrounding bushes violently swayed as the spear shaft, starting from its tip, began to grind into dust. A shower of silver filings scattered from his palm.
It was over in an instant.
The entire spear was pulverized and gone, along with the noisy presences that had been echoing from atop the hill.
‘I’ve certainly completed the intermediate task. Though the final goal is still far off…’
Jeong Yeon-shin looked up, clasping one hand behind his back. He felt a small sense of achievement.
Infinite Flower of Time Hand, Brilliant River.
It was constantly active.