Chapter 268: The Master of the Martial Book (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 268: The Master of the Martial Book (5)
"Ugh..."
The direct disciple of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect was pinned, unable to move, letting out only a low groan.
His arm, trapped beneath the foot of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, remained outstretched and completely immobilized. He couldn't shake off Jeong Yeon-shin, even though the youth was weaker than ever before.
And this was after Gi Do-hyu's eye technique had thoroughly scanned Jeong Yeon-shin's physical condition.
The Commander’s qi was clearly faint and unstable. He was suffering from internal injuries bordering on Qi Deviation, and his upper body was drenched in blood from his external wounds. He had just fought a succession of formidable, top-tier experts.
How could such a man so easily subdue Gi Do-hyu, who had strolled up the mountain with his master as if on a leisurely walk? Gi Do-hyu was an expert who could effortlessly perform Grass-Gliding, a bizarre feat confirmed by the blades of grass that remained perfectly upright beneath his feet.
"Stay still," Jeong Yeon-shin said, his own feet planted firmly together.
This was the second lesson from the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. The feint she had taught him could disrupt an opponent's sense of qi.
Jeong Yeon-shin synchronized his own qi with Gi Do-hyu's internal power.
As he did, he thought of an opera troupe that had once visited his hometown of Xinye County. Facing the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect had suddenly dredged up the memory. He recalled following the village children who always excluded him, watching from afar as a puppeteer manipulated a puppet on several strings.
It was a puppet show. He had been utterly spellbound.
The profound truth was already within me.
A martial artist's techniques are inevitably shaped by their life.
Using that childhood memory as a mental image, Jeong Yeon-shin toyed with the qi emanating from Gi Do-hyu. He delicately manipulated the weakened waves of his Law-Transcending Halo Qi like silken threads, stripping away his opponent's perception of internal energy.
An expert's sense of qi is linked to their five senses. The deeper their mastery of their internal cultivation method, the faster they can react to a strike from behind. This meant that if their sense of qi was disrupted, their physical senses could be deceived. This was the profound truth of the Heart Sword's feint.
"The Heart Sword...?"
Gi Do-hyu's relaxed expression twisted into one of despair. There were two reasons he couldn't respond.
First, he had the chilling premonition that if he tried to pull back his arm, his other joints would move against his will. Second, he knew with certainty that even Jeong Yeon-shin's weakened kick could crush his skull. He was facing a unit commander of the Divine Sword Corps, a man who possessed countless ways to counter any move he might make.
Jeong Yeon-shin held him down with an oppressive presence befitting a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress—the posture of a supreme expert.
While casually disrupting Gi Do-hyu's sense of qi, he observed the battle between the Mount Hua Sect Leader and the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect.
The sword paths enveloping them tangled into hundreds of lines, forming a maelstrom of steel to the naked eye. Terrifying killing intent surged in this life-and-death duel to determine who was number one in Shaanxi.
Clang-clang-clang!
Sunlight distorted along the trajectories of the two peerless experts' swords. These were the lines of the Fast Sword, whose explosive shockwaves trailed far behind their movements. Even a single clash of their blades unleashed shockwaves more powerful than Brilliant River, making it difficult to follow their forms even with the Sight of the Lowly.
He could barely keep up only because he recognized a familiar trait in Lady Yul-ha's movements. The core principles of the Compendium of Demon Extermination were evident in her sword path, which resembled swaying flower branches.
She's pushing him back.
Peerless experts existed in a different flow of time. Hundreds of exchanges passed in an instant. Though the difference was infinitesimally small, Lady Yul-ha's sword seemed to strike a fraction of a second faster.
Had he been of some help? It seemed the sword intent described in the Compendium of Demon Extermination was also present in the strikes the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect was now unleashing. Since both martial arts stemmed from a common root, this was a stroke of luck for her.
"You... do not know... the Lord..." Gi Do-hyu croaked from beneath his foot.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't look down.
"Flash Art. A peerless genius like you... can never understand..."
Just then, the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect's sword momentum shifted. Dozens of translucent, blazing greatswords materialized before instantly merging into a single blade. It was as if the sword had been forged in an entirely different dimension.
Whoosh!
An immense pressure pressed down on his skin.
At that moment, Gi Do-hyu moved. He thrust his free hand forward, determined to kill Jeong Yeon-shin.
But by then, Jeong Yeon-shin was already concentrating his Law-Transcending Halo Qi into his right foot. Enduring a brief, agonizing pain that felt like a blade slicing through his meridians, he detonated his internal energy through the Yongquan Point on the sole of his foot.
Crack!
An incredibly solid sensation met the tip of his foot, followed by the feeling of something being crushed.
The moment he landed after shattering Gi Do-hyu's skull, Jeong Yeon-shin saw Lady Yul-ha falling backward. Blood spurted from her abdomen, which had been slashed diagonally. A brilliant light flashed in the eyes of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect as he completed his swing.
Rumble!
A terrifying energy writhed, enveloping the surroundings. It was the internal energy of an absolute master.
His gaze passed over Lady Yul-ha's shoulder and fell upon Jeong Yeon-shin, so intense it seemed to cast a shadow over the very space between them.
The undisputed number one of Shaanxi.
Their eyes met.
The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect's dark eyes didn't waver, even after seeing his disciple killed. It was a composure that bordered on madness.
"I heard you create sect-exclusive martial arts with ease," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "I am not so gifted, so I am painstakingly creating one. The Three Styles of Breaking the Desolation. That was the first style."
"..."
"I did not kill her. For Saint Flower is the only one in Shaanxi who can challenge me."
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't reply. He focused on catching Lady Yul-ha in his arms and tapping the acupoints on her abdomen to stop the bleeding. Even so, he kept the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect in his sight. Vivid blue lightning crackled within the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's eyes.
The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect stared down at him for a moment longer before speaking.
"You, brat, have had quite the exchange with me."
Step.
The man turned.
"I shall await the day you become a Divine Sword."
* * *
Many had survived at the site of the Young Lord of Lingering Spirit's death: experts from Shaanxi's Thirteen Heavens, disciples of the Beast King Sect, and martial artists of the Orthodox Factions who had been on the outskirts.
Not many spoke of the fact that there had been two Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Roots. Most had not followed the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, choosing instead to climb Seven Girls Peak or simply descend the mountain. The experts present remained tight-lipped about their own gains, and only the shocking spectacle displayed by the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was passed from mouth to mouth, quickly reaching the foot of the mountain.
—The Young Lord of Lingering Spirit has been robbed of the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root!
Winged spirit beasts and messenger pigeons took to the sky, their wings brushing past bare branches as they descended the vast slopes.
The moment the Blood Flame Cult's Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation vanished, the mountainsides, stretching out like the horizon, were flooded with people.
Rumors about the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress spread like wildfire. It was inevitable. Those who had been unable to enter because of the formation now swarmed up the mountain.
Rogue martial artists, experts from prestigious sects, and merchant guild members accompanied by guards dashed forward using their lightness skills, leaving countless footprints in the snow. The rustling of underbrush was deafening. They leaped over corpses bearing clear bite marks on their necks and ignored piles of blood ghosts whose cause of death was impossible to discern.
Those who had already been wandering Mount Taibai, and those who had just arrived. The majority were searching for one person.
Massive groups of martial-arts-trained herb gatherers were all heading toward a certain point on the mountain ridge. A Net of Heaven and Earth was naturally forming.
At its center.
"Sect Leader, you must not lose consciousness."
A low voice drifted out with a plume of white breath.
Crunch.
Jeong Yeon-shin passed by snow-laden trees with Lady Yul-ha on his back. His collar dragged long behind him, the sensation exceptionally vivid. His steps were heavy. His sense of qi was no longer vast.
From the Ghost Soul Divine Sword and Shaanxi's Number One Demon to the joint attacks of the Thirteen Heavens and other top-tier experts on Mount Taibai—the accumulated internal and external wounds wore down even the body forged by the Jeong Family Dynamic Art. His Law-Transcending Halo Qi refused to move as he wished, merely drifting through his meridians like a faint haze.
The pests grating on his nerves were also a problem.
"The blood ghosts were annihilated. They say a blood-drenched woman stumbled away and disappeared."
"Some suspect internal strife. Those who observed from afar with eye techniques said so."
"That man... it must be the Saint Flower Sword God! This is the perfect opportunity...!"
"The Young Lord of Lingering Spirit and his guardian are dead, and the Wolf King was found as a corpse. The Beast King Sect bastards lost their sect leader..."
"It's only natural his strength is depleted. No, it's a miracle he's even standing. How did he defeat them? It's utterly marvelous."
"Look at his gait. Does he look like he has any strength left?"
A massive dragnet descended along with Jeong Yeon-shin. While some whispered, others didn't even bother to lower their voices. The mountain ridge had been thrown wide open after the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation was broken.
At first, they gathered in ones and twos, hiding. But by the time the sounds of whistling arrows and the flapping of spirit beasts' wings grew loud, hundreds of people had surrounded Jeong Yeon-shin.
To some, the exhausted Commander of the Demonlight Wing was an irresistible target. He carried the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root in his bosom and the Mount Hua Sect Leader on his back. He was practically a spirit beast that would grant them both a legendary herb and immense fame.
The more cunning martial artists were no different. In this world, there was no shortage of people who harbored grudges against the imperial family's Divine Swords. Where else could they get the head of a Black Rank unit commander? The prize was enough to make them push any fear of the Desolate Fortress's retaliation to the back of their minds.
They were a pack of jackals.
All kinds of weapons clattered. The sounds of footsteps on snow were just as varied: careless, stealthy, restless with the urge to pounce, and presences refined like polished blades—all descended in a massive circle.
They had trapped Jeong Yeon-shin in the center.
He occasionally adjusted Lady Yul-ha on his back, taking silent steps.
Whoosh—
A sudden winter wind swept the hair from the nape of his neck. His breath trailed back along his jawline. At the same time, a faint breath brushed against his neck. It carried the sweet scent unique to those with severe internal injuries.
"Commander... of the Demonlight Wing..."
It was Lady Yul-ha. Jeong Yeon-shin calmly parted his lips.
"Sect Leader."
"Leave me behind."
"The Heterodox Sects are everywhere. Many of them are unhinged; they will surely harm you. It would be the same even if I left the Fleeceflower Root."
"Your character... and talent are too precious to waste. You must not die in a place like this. You could escape on your own, could you not?"
A stubbornness could be felt in her halting voice. Her words, urging him to give up, reminded him of his maternal grandfather. It seemed peerless experts were all strong-willed.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing had made a promise to himself long ago: he would not become like his grandfather.
"I will handle it."
"..."
Exhaling, Jeong Yeon-shin sharpened all his senses. He felt an invisible, distorting air current beneath a brown pine needle that suddenly brushed past his face. It was a qi wave hidden in the flow of air. The killing intent surrounding him was gradually thickening.
"If I strike first, will I die?"
"He may look like that, but he is still the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. He could easily kill a bastard like you in a single strike."
"Shall we test it? After waiting just a bit longer."
"If we're going to do it, we must block his descent first. Those self-proclaimed Orthodox Faction bastards know no shame. They often try to piggyback on the achievements of the imperial family's killing sword."
"You mean we have to strike before his achievements are widely known? Well... that makes sense. Who knows how many top-tier experts of the Heterodox Sects he has slaughtered..."
This was a conversation between noble young masters wearing fur coats over sleek martial robes. It came from above. They were men in demon masks, stepping on tree branches like immortals as they followed Jeong Yeon-shin, addressing each other as Golden Hero and Golden Fist. It seemed the leaders of a great merchant guild were using aliases. The dozen or so escort warriors following them also exuded wealth.
"All sorts of bastards are gathering. Riffraff and experts alike."
"There must be about two hundred and fifty of them now. It's getting harder to count."
"I'm getting anxious. That achievement should be mine. If I bring back something like the Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root, I can beat my sister in the succession race."
"It's a situation where all the outlaws of Shaanxi are swarming a single boy."
"Golden Fist, does that look like a boy to you?"
"Hmm?"
"How careless. That guy is a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress. You shouldn't think of him as human."
"Ah, now that you mention it, that's hard to deny."
"We will step in at the very end. Let's aim for the fisherman's profit. Those ignorant peasants will wear out the Commander of the Demonlight Wing for us."
Just as the smooth-jawed Golden Hero, who spoke of reaping the fisherman's profit, stopped talking—
Slash!
One of Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulders was jerked back violently as he descended the slope. Blood spurted like a blade. He gritted his teeth against the fresh, surging pain.
"...!"
In that instant, the martial artists forming the Net of Heaven and Earth fell silent. A silence born of realization swept through the surroundings like a whirlpool. The Commander of the Demonlight Wing's injuries are truly severe.
A swordsman at the front, his sword raised, curled his lips upward. His face showed disbelief at his own luck.
"Did you see...? The great unit commander of the Desolate Fortress, felled by my sword wind— cough!"
In that split second, a clump of snow kicked up by Jeong Yeon-shin shattered the man's eyeball. It exploded with a dull thud, carrying a trace of Law-Transcending Halo Qi, but the heavy sound didn't seem to leave much of an impression on anyone.
Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes narrowed.
My counterattack was completely visible to them. And allowing that strike to land is a problem.
The heat filling the Net of Heaven and Earth grew more intense, even after the swordsman's corpse fell backward. The jackals had fully realized the tiger's condition. From below, a new crowd of martial artists swarmed up.
"It's true! He's right there!"
"The Fleeceflower Root! The Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root must be in his bosom!"
"The robe the woman on his back is wearing looks like a Mount Hua Sect robe. Her identity...?"
"We're here to take down the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who cares about some damn Taoist's identity! If we take both of their heads, we can join the Thirteen Heavens!"
The dragnet was reinforced endlessly. The thickening wall of martial artists emitted a fierce wave of qi. The fighting spirit and killing intent surging with their internal energy were strong enough to ruffle the Commander's robes like a physical wind.
"Golden Hero, when should we strike?"
"Let's wait a bit longer. It's about to explode."
The conversations drifting from all around were filled with leisure and excitement. Those who had built up their momentum from all directions had already begun to watch their surroundings as much as they watched the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
This was the raw, untamed Jianghu.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently walked forward with the Mount Hua Sect Leader on his back.
She spoke again. "Even though this poor Taoist said she would get down..."
"Sect Leader, you are not the Lord of the Fortress."
Answering briefly, he prepared for the onslaught that was sure to come. With his head slightly lowered, he sharply activated his close-range sense of qi.
Crunch, crunch.
He could not abandon someone with whom he had exchanged goodwill. This had nothing to do with Lady Yul-ha's identity. He had learned the preciousness of goodwill in the village where his mother had settled. It was only right to protect it.
This was the chivalry of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. In this moment, it grew deeper with every white footprint he left.
It was just after he had taken about seventeen more steps.
Hmm?
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly raised his head. The surroundings had grown quiet. A silence colder than the winter wind hovered around them. The noisy, clamoring crowd had frozen, every single one of them falling silent.
Suddenly, the only distinct sound was that of pine needles rolling over the snow.
He realized why only after looking around.
"..."
Twenty people had surrounded the three hundred or so martial artists forming the Net of Heaven and Earth.
A black-haired beauty standing straight with her sword planted at her feet; a noble young master chewing on a bright red poppy with furrowed brows; a young man wearing a hero's headband sweeping his gaze over the crowd with an indignant face; and a Brightfolk woman holding a bow while standing upside down on a tree branch.
Each stood in their own posture.
The hems of their robes, looking as if they had been dipped in the sky, fluttered in the wind. Every single robe was a dazzling blue, and the character Desolate (荒) embroidered on their shoulders stood out silently.
The young man wearing the hero's headband spoke.
"I don't have much to say. You all had better descend quickly."
"No."
The voice echoed from high above.
It came from a branch above the noble young masters in their demon masks. A one-eyed Brightfolk youth wearing a hood shook his head. He was caressing his sword hilt, his young face devoid of expression.
"Kill them all."
The chilling command hung in the tense air for barely a fraction of a second before the sheer brutality of the battlefield answered.
Squelch!
Directly below the towering branches, a sickening sound of rending flesh and tearing organs echoed out, sharp and unmistakable. A pitch-black sword blade had already buried itself deep into the abdomen of a rogue martial artist. The man stood completely frozen, his eyes blown wide with a primal terror that hadn't even had the time to fully register across his features. The dark weapon had bypassed his desperate defenses as if his protective qi were made of nothing more than wet paper, skewering him exactly where he stood.
The lethal weapon belonged to Baek Mi-ryeo. She stood amidst the chaos like a phantom dragged upward from the deepest abyss, her exceptionally dark hair cascading down her back like a heavy waterfall of shadows. But it was not merely the color of her hair that seemed to consume the ambient light around her. She was entirely enveloped in a suffocating, pitch-black aura. This was not just formless killing intent; it was fully materialized demonic energy. The dark power was so dense, so incredibly viscous, that it seemed to writhe and pulse around her slender figure like a living, breathing entity hungry for slaughter.
"Commander, let us return now."
Her voice was eerily calm, slicing through the heavy tension with a chilling, detached indifference. It was a mundane request, spoken as casually as if she were discussing the setting sun, completely at odds with the gruesome execution she was actively orchestrating.
Yet, beneath that calm demeanor, lethal power was coiling like a spring. Stark white veins bulged violently against the pale skin on the back of her hand, standing out in sharp relief as she tightened her iron grip on the hilt of her sword. The materialized demonic energy flared outward, responding instantly to her surging intent. It was immediately after she spoke those brief, emotionless words that the true violence began.
Suddenly, with an explosive and terrifying twist of her waist, she unleashed the kinetic energy she had built up. She didn't simply withdraw the blade; she ripped it violently upward in a brutal, unstoppable ascending arc. She severed the rogue martial artist’s upper body entirely, driving the black steel up through his torso with merciless precision.
Crack-crack-crack!
The harsh, sickening sound of his ribs splitting and shattering all at once fired off like a string of bursting firecrackers. It was a horrific cacophony of breaking bone and tearing muscle that drowned out all other noise. In the immediate wake of the ascending black blade, a massive, explosive torrent of crimson blood erupted into the air, painting the surroundings in a gruesome mist.
It was a strike of such overwhelming power, such sudden and absolute violence, that it seemed to completely freeze time itself, leaving the horrific image permanently burned into the retinas of anyone unfortunate enough to witness it.