Chapter 258: High-Level (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 258: High-Level (8)
The crackle of the campfire was the only sound breaking the silence. In the fading twilight, dry wood and brush shriveled and popped in the flames.
“……”
The siblings, who claimed to be from the Ice Palace, simply stared at the black-robed boy.
Jang Sun-il, the young guide warming himself by the fire, glanced anxiously at his companion.
From their faces to their attire, the twin siblings exuded a pristine, white luster that made their noble status obvious. The Ice Palace was one of the most preeminent martial organizations in the Jianghu, far beyond the borders of the Ming Dynasty. It was a place that could contend for the absolute pinnacle of all Ice Arts lineages in the world. It wouldn't be surprising if some of its members possessed power rivaling his companion’s.
If a fight broke out, Jang Sun-il knew he wouldn't escape unscathed. To common folk, martial artists from the great sects were all strange, violent, and supernatural beings. He could easily imagine his body freezing solid and shattering from the mere shockwave of their clash.
The herb-gathering boy chose his words with extreme caution, struggling to piece together the formal phrases he had picked up in his attempts to study martial arts.
“Um… I don’t mean to say you misspoke. I just think… perhaps your actions didn’t quite match the true intent of your words…”
“Hmm?”
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly. He had said exactly what he meant.
Misinterpreting his reaction, the elder twin sister, Bukgung Rin, let a smile curve her lips.
“What an amusing fellow. Though you seem to be at an age where meditation and self-reflection are important…”
Her laughter was hearty and genuine, clearly not a polite fabrication. She had a temperament as sweeping as the northern wind, which strangely suited her blue-and-white hair that looked as if it were dyed with frost. The same could be said for Bukgung Hu, who stood beside her.
“The young warrior has quite a knack for old-fashioned jokes,” he said with a faint smile. “To survive an eternal winter, one must be fearless. Your bold spirit is much like that of our homeland. I quite like you.”
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly felt deflated.
Why bother fighting people who so graciously accepted his sudden, gale-like irritation? The world was already full of annoying, self-important martial artists.
His first meeting with Heonwon Chang flashed through his mind.
—Has the little brother also come to join the Desolate Fortress?
He had sat down beside him without any ceremony and said those words. These two were just like him—approaching without hesitation, with a directness he had never experienced before. It felt as if they would walk to his graveside with the exact same stride one day.
“Just sit anywhere,” he said, turning his head back toward the fire.
As expected, they didn't decline. The rustle of footsteps on grass drew near, and the two walked over, settling down between Jang Sun-il and Jeong Yeon-shin without a moment’s hesitation.
Even the way they pulled one knee to their chests and rested an elbow on it was identical. Perhaps because of that, their arrogant demeanor struck Jeong Yeon-shin as somewhat amusing.
He spoke.
“The Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root?”
“Of course,” Bukgung Rin replied. “Isn't that the goal of every martial artist who came here?”
Glancing at Jeong Yeon-shin, she reached into her robes. Beside them, Jang Sun-il flinched.
Rustle.
What Bukgung Rin pulled out was not a hidden weapon. A sphere glowed faintly in her palm, which was pale enough to prove her mastery of the Ice Arts. A blue radiance flowed across its small surface, as if the sky itself had been captured within.
Jeong Yeon-shin's brow furrowed slightly.
“I heard keeping a night-shining pearl close shortens one's life.”
“It is not a night-shining pearl. It is a jewel crafted from fragments of Ice Essence, and it contains a trace of Cold Ice Energy. It should be beneficial for circulating your Qi.”
“Cold Ice Energy?”
“I caught a cold scent from you,” Bukgung Hu, sitting beside his sister, said casually.
The siblings’ eyes glowed with a faint white light. They must have sensed the traces of the Moon Spirit Harmony Art that Jeong Yeon-shin had been granted by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. They had detected the True Qi that had already merged with his Law-Transcending Halo Qi. True to their Ice Palace origins, their ability to recognize a similar energy from his suppressed aura was extraordinary.
Even considering how close they were sitting, it was no ordinary feat. They truly lived up to their reputation as members of a mysterious great sect.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.
“There’s no need.”
“We wish to treat you as a companion on the road. You shared your fire with us,” Bukgung Rin said, extending her hand with the crystal orb. Her tone was calm.
“It is an act of great significance. At least, it is in our land. Judging by the stingy hospitality here, it seems to be the same,” Bukgung Hu chimed in, supporting his sister.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the crystal orb. “It looks valuable.”
“It might be rare in the marketplace, but not to the people of our palace. Accept it as a small token of appreciation.” Bukgung Rin lightly shook her fist holding the sphere, her rough gesture carrying the distinct dignity of a fair exchange.
They were difficult to read. They carried such a precious item, yet they didn't even have a flint. Their bearing clearly distinguished their own conduct from the duties of servants. Judging by their mention of losing their retainers, they likely belonged to the ruling class of the Ice Palace.
‘This might be of help to the poppy addict.’
Jeong Yeon-shin readily took the crystal orb. A cool texture enveloped his palm.
Jang Sun-il, sitting opposite them, watched with an envious expression.
“You two must really be from the North Sea Ice Palace. To think I'd meet masters from beyond the border, whom I've only heard of in stories…”
Bukgung Hu chuckled. “'Beyond the border.' A truly Central Plains-like way of speaking.”
The term referred to the lands outside the fortresses of the Great Wall, different from ‘beyond the mortal world’ (世外), which meant places secluded from society. A martial artist from beyond the border was a warrior from a distant land where the authority of the Ming Imperial Family did not reach—people who intervened in worldly affairs with a temperament as wild as the untamed wilderness.
Cold sweat broke out on the bridge of Jang Sun-il's nose.
“Oh, did I commit a discourtesy…?”
“Forget it. Let’s talk,” said Bukgung Hu, who, like his sister, was enveloped in a noble aura. “The high priestesses of our land say that the afterlife is composed only of what one has seen and heard while alive. That is why the strong of our palace often wander. I am curious why two boys are making their way through such a harsh battlefield. Aren't you a bit too young to be coveting spirit herbs?”
“My nephew is sick.”
Jeong Yeon-shin calmly repeated the lie he had told Jang Sun-il.
For a moment, only the sound of the crackling fire echoed. The expressions of Bukgung Rin and Bukgung Hu turned peculiar.
“The exact opposite of us, then?”
“At your age, too. You are very warm-hearted. We came here to surpass our rivals in the palace…” Bukgung Hu trailed off.
The two seemed to have been moved in some inexplicable way. The expressions of the noble siblings from the Ice Palace softened considerably. The firelight flickered dreamily across their pale cheeks. As local aristocrats of the martial world who had lived their entire lives in the ruling class, they possessed a composure befitting their status, different from other martial artists from beyond the border, who were known to be exclusive and hostile.
“I am not much different from you,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied shortly.
Yet, the siblings' expressions did not change. They continued to converse softly with Jeong Yeon-shin and Jang Sun-il until the last remnants of the sunset faded into complete darkness. The wild yet simple-hearted martial aristocrats from beyond the border were incredibly talkative, filling the twilight silence with a cozy darkness and pleasant voices.
* * *
“I would like to suggest we travel together, regardless of what happens afterward.”
“My sister makes a fine proposal. We shall protect you. You don't intend to descend the mountain until this matter is resolved, do you?”
They had grown quite close, a natural bond forming between them.
Jeong Yeon-shin was a powerhouse beyond the siblings’ comprehension. From a height they could not perceive, he had already made his judgment. The upper dantian ability of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing deemed the Ice Palace siblings harmless. They held no hostility and were more than capable of protecting Jang Sun-il in an emergency.
The four of them began to climb the mountain.
The further they went, the more people they encountered.
Even though the rumors had spread some time ago, no one had yet emerged claiming to have harvested the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root. At this point, even giving up and descending the mountain was a problem. Anyone leaving would inevitably draw suspicion from those who had formed a virtual blockade below.
Those holding swords were, for the most part, dangerous bandits.
“You lot look like you might have something! Do you have the fleeceflower root?”
“Let's see what's in your robes!”
The mountainside was no exception. It was less a mountain path and more a bloody arena.
Whenever their group was provoked, the Bukgung siblings stepped forward.
On multiple occasions, Jeong Yeon-shin watched as their opponents’ weapons froze in their hands and shattered into pieces. It was an ultimate technique that made perfect use of Cold Ice Energy.
Clang!
“Argh!”
Their fist and palm techniques were their true specialty. The momentum of their thrusting palms was incredibly fierce, and a noble aura flowed from them as they returned to their ready stance.
“So many are weak despite their greed. In our northern lands, they wouldn't even suffice as wolf feed.”
“Our promise to protect you was no empty boast. You may consider it a stroke of heavenly luck.”
Bukgung Rin and Bukgung Hu were not ashamed of their boasting. To them, it was only right to take pride in one's achievements.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded inwardly, taking their words to heart. His own rivals were illustrious heroes like the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps and Ak Su-rim. As the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, his position of competing with them for accolades was no different from that of the Bukgung siblings. He had to accept and internalize any plausible advice. He was in no position to be picky.
‘I've gained a lot lately.’
One must not look down on others just because their movements seem slow. Few people have ever actually seen a grub roll, but if one were to watch, there would surely be something to learn.
As Jeong Yeon-shin mulled over this realization, he suddenly spoke up, lightly resting his foot on a boulder overlooking the opposite mountain ridge.
“How did you lose your servants?”
“Ah.”
“Those bastards weren't weak. Their heads were bright red.”
The expressions of the Bukgung siblings darkened. They seemed to be referring to the Blood Ghosts of the Blood Flame Cult.
“With your martial prowess, you shouldn't have struggled against ordinary cultists. You should even be able to defeat most Blood Master Swords.”
At Jeong Yeon-shin's words, the two widened their eyes slightly. Bukgung Hu, who was stepping on the corpse of a bandit, quickly spoke up.
“You know how to measure the strength of the Blood Flame Cult? I did think your knowledge was unusual.”
“Were there many of them?”
“It wasn't just one or two. We were dealing with five, but in an instant, their numbers swelled to twenty, then thirty. There were red-haired ones mixed with black-haired ones, and it was simply too much to handle. We had no choice but to flee. They swarmed us so disgustingly, as if trying to make Mount Taibai their own domain… You should have seen it.”
“And we couldn't even dream of matching the bastard who wielded two massive sabers,” Bukgung Rin added.
“They called him the Wolf King, was it? He looked like someone only the finest warriors of our land could face. He radiated waves of terrifying spirit. It felt like we wouldn't even be able to withstand a single blow from him. That was the day any desire to look down on the Central Plains vanished,” she concluded, furrowing her brow. She trembled slightly, a reaction unbefitting a noble of the Ice Palace.
Jang Sun-il, standing a short distance away, reacted as if struck by lightning.
“The Wolf King, Geum Si-hu!”
It was a name worth whispering in shock, a name even Jeong Yeon-shin had heard.
The king of those who sold their swords for salt and coin.
He enjoyed immense fame as a wanderer, a saber guest who walked the line between the orthodox and unorthodox paths, yet few dared to provoke him. His martial arts were exceedingly profound. He was said to be a top-tier master who had left a trail of achievements while traveling between Henan and Shaanxi—a powerhouse who dominated the Murim, having inherited a single-successor sect.
“He accepted a commission from the Blood Flame Cult?” the Commander of the Demonlight Wing murmured quietly. A target for execution, then.
“Should we… should we go down…? I think the fleeceflower root is about half a day's journey past this point, but…” Jang Sun-il spoke in an extremely cautious voice.
Jeong Yeon-shin found it strange and asked, “Didn't you come here knowing that the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect or the Mount Hua Sect Leader might grace this place? There were also rumors about the First Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult.”
“The leaders of the Thirteen Heavens and the orthodox sects are like immortals in the sky… but the Wolf King is a different breed. They say he is incredibly cruel. When a sect damaged by his commission pursued him, he supposedly ripped off their sect leader's head with his bare hands. They say he won't hesitate to do anything if there's profit involved!” Jang Sun-il said, his throat trembling.
‘Isn't that just what martial artists do?’
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head inwardly and shifted his feet—
“How regrettable. I have no choice but to kill those who spread such rumors about me as well.”
The voice came from atop the rocky hill blocking his left. The internal power infused into the extremely gruff voice was immense, causing the surrounding air to distort.
Step.
The man revealed himself.
The hem of his vermilion trousers flashed gaudily. He wore clothes ornately embroidered with gold tassels and carried two saber scabbards painted with white clouds. His appearance was more befitting a king than a wanderer.
“I am Geum Si-hu.”
He was a man with a neatly trimmed beard that revealed a sharp jawline. He exuded an aura that seemed to dominate the mountain like a tiger, and the colorless waves of internal power enveloping his body felt like armor. The Qi of a top-tier master was extraordinary.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
“What…!”
“They say one should never speak lightly of a tiger's wrath…!”
Bukgung Hu and Bukgung Rin lowered their stances as they looked up, visibly shaken. They weren't old enough to truly lecture Jeong Yeon-shin on age, but in this moment, they seemed to realize anew that nothing was impossible in the Murim.
However, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing did not look at the Wolf King.
Beyond him, he felt a sinister, wavering aura. It was flowing from afar, following the mnemonic of the Mara Blood-Roaring Art that he had previously modified. He recalled that only a few pages remained before the modified text tailored for the Seventh Apostle was complete. Had she altered the mnemonic on her own to cultivate it?
‘She senses me. She doesn't care what happens to the Wolf King.’
There was no avoiding it now. He had to face her.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly turned his gaze. Soon, his eyes met Geum Si-hu's.
The Wolf King smiled.
“Ah, I see it on your face. You're the bastard who caused this whole mess, aren't you? Thanks to you, I've lined my pockets with plenty of salt.”
He seemed to know Jeong Yeon-shin's identity. But contrary to his relaxed expression, the muscles of his entire body were repeatedly contracting and relaxing. He was poised to draw his sabers and strike at any moment, without a single trace of underestimation.
He truly was a wanderer who had survived for a long time.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing spoke calmly.
“Come down.”
“Isn't it only proper for the younger one to move? I shall let you make the first move.”
The corners of the Wolf King's mouth curled up as he looked down.
Distance and positioning were extremely important, even in battles between top-tier masters. The vertical advantage dictated, however slightly, the power of one's Fa Jin and shockwaves. A paper-thin difference decided life and death. The Wolf King, Geum Si-hu, was a practical man. He valued a tactical advantage over saving face.
“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't drag out the battle of nerves.
Drawing the Northern Light Sword with his right hand, he channeled the profound truth of the Brilliant River into his left palm. His Law-Transcending Halo Qi split into two distinct temperaments, colliding in the center of his palm like a Thunderbolt Bomb.
At the same time, he tightened and released the Large Intestine Meridian of his left arm, causing the lightning gathered in his palm to stabilize.
‘Activate.’
Rumble—!
An overwhelming torrent of air swirled within his grasp, growing ceaselessly. The aura, fiercely whipping and sweeping through the air, gradually expanded like a typhoon. His pitch-black robes fluttered violently.
“That is…!”
The Wolf King's eyes widened. In the distance, the presence of the Seventh Apostle trembled.
There was no time to wait. Jeong Yeon-shin struck directly at the stone wall where the Wolf King stood.
Boom—!
A thunderous roar erupted, echoing in all directions like a sudden, violent shiver.