Chapter 274: Martial Prowess (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 274: Martial Prowess (2)
The party from the Desolate Fortress followed Cheong Bo-hwa into the fortress of thickets. Only Jeong Yeon-shin walked side by side with her.
After scanning him for a long time with her Brightfolk eye technique, she had tacitly permitted him to walk beside her.
"I could have turned you away, but regardless, you are welcome."
The Gate of the Heavenly Pillar.
It was said to be both a sect and a village.
As the rumors secretly whispered, it was incredibly vast.
The entire sprawling mountain range seemed to serve as the sect's grounds, and a divine aura permeated every corner of the endless land.
Even the leaves, fluttering with a vivid green hue in the dead of winter, carried that aura. They possessed a dreamlike quality.
It was a place one could never have set foot in unless they were a high-ranking official of the Desolate Fortress.
A sorcery formation.
Jeong Yeon-shin scanned the area, feeling the mysterious energy against his skin. A gentle breeze seemed to wrap the surroundings in a translucent shroud.
The leaves of the ancient trees fluttered hazily, creating a scene of unparalleled beauty.
Its function was similar to the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation that had once hidden the headquarters of the Blood Flame Cult.
The formation was denser here than at the entrance of the mountain range. At this rate, finding this place would be nearly impossible.
It was no wonder that even the Beggar Sect and the Hao Sect had failed to gather any information on the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar.
He slowly opened his mouth.
"I heard that the Dark Night Hall is scouring this mountain. Is that true?"
"It has always been so. We share a deep, ill-fated relationship with them, tangled since the days of our ancestors. Their temperament is incompatible with ours. Rather than Brightfolk, they deserve to be called the Darkfolk," Cheong Bo-hwa, the Lord of the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar, replied. She walked as if floating, stepping lightly on the tips of the grass.
She did not look back even once, though her great-grandson, Cheong-myeong, walked behind her.
Cheong-myeong, seemingly unbothered, clasped his hands behind his head.
Beneath his slightly loose blue sleeves, the powerful veins of a swordsman stood out sharply.
"A duel to compare the sect's exclusive martial arts... I can't bring myself to trust anyone but our Commander. Now that we're here, we have to cross that lake. I just wonder if our fledglings are up to the task."
Shin So-bin fluttered her slender eyelashes.
"Across the lake? Why?"
"My younger brother is lying there. His name is Cheong-su. Unlike our Commander, he was a lively kid. Well, they're quite similar in how affectionate they are."
"Huh? I've never heard that Senior Demon Sword had a younger brother."
"I'm talking about his grave. It's been about ten years. He was on patrol when he was struck by the Dark Night Hall's ultimate archery technique. It's called the Ten-Mile One Kill, an archery art that makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint the attacker's location. It was as swift as a flash of light, impossible to intercept."
"Ah."
Just as Shin So-bin fell silent, Jeong Yeon-shin, walking ahead, asked with feigned composure.
"Who was the culprit? They must be an expert."
"I shouldn't have brought it up. Look at the Gate Lord's eyes narrowing... It seems they haven't caught him yet."
Cheong-myeong did not give up the information easily. He glanced at the back of his great-grandmother, Cheong Bo-hwa, and shut his mouth.
Since it was a family matter, it was difficult to press for an answer.
Perhaps the moniker 'Blue-Eyed Demon Sword' came from the ruthlessness he showed while avenging his younger brother.
Since the blue-ranked experts of the Desolate Fortress could frequently take on solo missions and claim rewards, he might have roamed the martial world, training specifically to face the experts of the Dark Night Hall, one of the most prominent assassin groups in the Jianghu.
He felt as if he had caught a glimpse into the mind of a senior swordsman who had always been shrouded in mystery.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly had a premonition. His recuperation would not be peaceful. His exhausted acupoints and muscles seemed to grow even heavier.
"Lord Cheong, I am curious as to why you did not request aid from the Desolate Fortress," he asked.
The Brightfolk elder, who had been listening in silence, spoke.
"Receive help from those who have rendered the value of pure bloodlines practically meaningless? Absolutely not. Our ties with the Desolate Fortress are bound to weaken. It's because it has become increasingly difficult to find any trace of our clan within them."
Cheong Bo-hwa's voice was like a sorrowful song. She continued, her words heavy with meaning.
"The Lord of the Desolate Fortress no longer creates new martial arts, and the clans rooted in this foreign land merely refine the old ways of the Han people instead of creating something new. I speak of the ancient martial arts that ravaged our powerless clans when this nation was founded."
"You seem to attach great significance to martial arts."
This was a sentiment Jeong Yeon-shin couldn't easily relate to. To him, martial arts were merely a means to prolong his life.
Even though his innate upper dantian allowed him to enjoy the study of martial arts, he never forgot its core purpose. He had no choice but to keep it in mind.
Cheong Bo-hwa chuckled softly.
"Besides, isn't the Desolate Fortress severely short-handed? Seeing the state of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, I can guess your situation. The influence of the once-mighty 17th Unit of the Divine Sword Corps must be waning. Have you not come to our sect to hasten the recovery of your Commander? And yourself as well."
Suddenly, she glanced back at the young Commander.
The old woman stood exceptionally tall, her back perfectly straight, and her eyes held an unfathomable depth.
This was why the powerful internal energy that flashed in her eyes didn't feel entirely tyrannical. The leader of this ancient Brightfolk sect was like a towering, ancient tree.
In her blue eyes, Jeong Yeon-shin saw a scarred tempest—a tangled, fractured vortex.
An ordinary level of mastery will not satisfy those eyes.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing thought to himself. Would the martial arts he had created be able to surpass the standards of the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar?
The presences of Shin So-bin and Heonwon Chang beside and behind him felt exceptionally lively, a stark contrast to the dual burdens he faced: his own recovery and the threat of the Dark Night Hall.
* * *
"Bong-gong. The Gate of the Heavenly Pillar has opened its gates."
"Have you traced the earth veins?"
"Yes. We believe we'll be able to locate it soon."
"Have the Heavenly Thunder Archery Corps on standby. We will strike any who emerge."
"Bong-gong, if we are careless, the Desolate Fortress might detect us."
"Famine brings chaos. This is when their intelligence network is at its weakest."
"...My worries were excessive."
"Indeed. Why do you think the 17th Unit of the Divine Sword Corps has operated so effectively all this time? They use government intelligence sources—on a completely different level from beggars and ruffians. I'm talking about the government offices and post stations spread across the land."
"……."
"However, during a famine, officials cannot remain incorruptible. They yield to the threats and bribes of local sects. Honest officials only exist in times of peace. Thus, the Desolate Fortress is currently no different from a blind swordsman. They know it, too, which is why they're swinging their seventeen precious swords around like madmen. They're nothing but a bloated, stumbling giant."
"The Gate of the Heavenly Pillar usually opens its gates only to the Desolate Fortress. The battered Commander of the Divine Sword Corps has likely been escorted there. A Commander-level expert might be guarding him as well..."
"I suspect it's the Commander of the Demonlight Wing."
"Then we must be even more cautious. Many experts have died at his hands. In Sichuan and Shaanxi, rumors claim he's a supernatural being, far beyond his years."
"I've heard. A man who created and uses his own Dharma power martial arts. They say the Ghost Soul Divine Sword and Shaanxi's Number One Demon died because they couldn't overcome his incompatible true qi."
"We must also consider the death of the Young Lord of Lingering Spirit. He slew the former Chief Guardian and the Lord of the Beast King Sect in the same battle. It's said he paraded his achievements all the way to Xiangyang... Judging by his past deeds, his arrogance seems to be a strength, not a flaw."
"Form the Thunder Flower Bow Formation. We will gather internal power for ten days. Then, I will absorb that energy and execute the Ten-Mile One Kill."
* * *
The midday sun was dazzling.
Sunlight quietly filtered into the sprawling flower garden, a green sanctuary enclosed by ancient trees that stood like fortress walls.
"……."
Only silence reigned, despite the many people gathered there.
About thirty martial artists from the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar were present.
Not a single one among them was not an expert.
Men and women of all ages stood on impossibly high branches, arms crossed or hands behind their backs. Boys and girls leaned against tree trunks so massive one had to crane their neck to see the top...
They wore high-quality silk robes of various colors, hinting at a highly developed sericulture technique. Each of them had ears as sharp as the blades of divine swords.
An impressive, wind-like aura clung to each of them, causing the hems of their robes to flutter incessantly.
None of them uttered a word.
As if they understood the entire situation, they merely looked down quietly at the party from the Desolate Fortress.
Only the sounds of a winding valley stream and a gentle breeze rustling through grass and flowers were distinct.
"Put that down and come over here," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
As if he had been waiting, the Lazy Flame Dragon, who had been at the back, set down the carriage of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. He was assisted by Heonwon Chang, who had been holding the rear handle.
Even so, a faint snore could be heard. The purple-ranked swordsman, a contender for the title of the world's strongest, was sleeping peacefully.
"I told you, I believe in you, Commander," Shin So-bin whispered softly, leaning her shoulder against his elbow.
The tips of her long braid tickled Jeong Yeon-shin's forearm. He didn't flinch, but felt a pang of envy. It seemed So-bin hadn't yet reached her turbulent adolescent years.
Must be nice to be young.
Jeong Yeon-shin counted his remaining lifespan—just a little over two years—and spoke.
"So-bin. You're up first."
She flinched, her clear eyes looking up at him.
"I figured. What should I show them?"
"Whatever you want," the Commander of the Demonlight Wing ordered.
With a sharp shout of determination, Shin So-bin strode forward.
Sunlight rippled across her single, swaying braid, and a faint haze began to rise from beneath her feet as she stepped on the grass. It was the precursor to the Radiant Wing Step.
She was the inheritor of Jeong Yeon-shin's orthodox martial lineage.
Using her innate senses, she could utilize the individual techniques of the Flash Art at precisely the right moments.
She reserved the forms of the Demonlight Formula—which pierced an enemy's openings—for decisive moments. She knew that as long as her senses could keep up, this approach was better suited for a one-on-one duel to the death.
The Vast Art Formula, which synthesized both styles, was reserved for group battles. Her talent was great enough to make such distinctions.
"The era of the grandmasters has set." Several people from the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar walked forward, with Cheong Bo-hwa at their center.
"Zen Master Bodhidharma, Zhang Sanfeng, the Heavenly Demon..." she spoke slowly.
"This is an era where those who revere the old mock the new. It has been this way since the nation was founded. They used martial arts imbued with the will of their ancestors to covet the beauty of our clan—men and women alike. Thus, we rejected the ancient martial lineages and their culture. It is a long-standing decision."
"I see many contradictions," Jeong Yeon-shin pointed out calmly. Cheong Bo-hwa nodded.
"All that remains is our stubbornness and our martial arts. Yet, that is our sect's tradition. If our narrow perspective offends a grandmaster such as yourself, then you need only shatter it with the martial arts you created."
Soon after, her wrinkled finger pointed far into the distance behind her.
"That is the thickest branch of the World Tree. The Heavenly Pillar. The divine pillar of the heavens. Beneath it lies the lake you desire."
Earlier, Nan-song, who was said to be Cheong-myeong's junior, had spoken of a 'divine pillar'.
Those words were not an exaggeration.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly realized, enduring a shock that seemed to brighten his vision.
What he had mistaken for the sky was actually a colossal blue tree branch, so vast it filled his entire field of vision.
It covered the entire valley, masquerading as the sky with transparent, shimmering bark instead of brown.
"We will judge the martial art, not the person. Its level of mastery."
Cheong Bo-hwa took a few steps back.
Then, the man who was said to be Cheong-myeong's junior stepped forward. He was a swordsman with long, dark green hair named Nan-song.
He did not look directly at Shin So-bin, who stood before him. Instead, he stared at Jeong Yeon-shin with his blue eyes.
"I heard you're the superior of that expelled disciple."
"That is correct," the Commander of the Demonlight Wing replied, crossing his arms. A cold light flashed in Nan-song's eyes.
"You wield a difficult sword. That man, Cheong-myeong, is so sharp he even severs the trust between people. I have trained for a long time to one day break his sword, yet I still lack the confidence."
"I see."
"I will gauge you through this girl's martial arts. A sect's exclusive art reveals much, so I will be able to fathom your caliber and character. The eyes of our clan are different from those of the Han people."
"Even so, I can tell your martial arts are remarkable. You have painstakingly woven the true qi for your eye technique, and judging by the balance spreading from the Yongquan points in your feet, you have forged your mind like a sword. It is a wondrous single-mindedness. This Commander's horizons have been broadened."
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke in a somewhat admiring tone.
It was thanks to his nephew that he had learned to appreciate the efforts of those less gifted. He could now see the effort of those weaker than him, though the act of praising them still felt foreign.
To think Nan-song had achieved such a level of training with senses that were so blunt in handling energy waves.
"T-thank you for your words," Nan-song stammered, turning his head slightly.
A cool breeze swept through the clearing. It seemed to be an energy wave born from the humility of the supreme expert, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
The tense atmosphere eased slightly as they prepared for the duel.
"Begin," the Lord of the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar said, her voice tinged with amusement.
Immediately, Shin So-bin, who had been glaring at Nan-song, assumed a fist-fighting stance. She stomped one foot hard on the ground.
Thud!
The powerful stomp shook the grassy clearing. As deep vibrations spread in all directions, leaves swirled up around her shoulders, following the motion of her arm.
Whoosh!
The space ahead distorted. The force gathered from that single stomp traveled through her fist, tearing the air apart.
Her neatly braided hair came undone, whipping through the air like a pitch-black banner. Nan-song didn't even have time to raise his sword.
The moment his eyebrows shot up in surprise, a white fist slammed into his solar plexus, trailing streaks of shockwaves that scored the air.
Crash!
Nan-song's body shot backward. The swirling wind tore the nearby thickets to shreds.
A dull thud echoed as he crashed to the ground, and silence once again permeated the valley.
It was a single-strike victory.