Chapter 280: Martial Prowess (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 280: Martial Prowess (8)
It happened the moment Bong-gong closed his eyes.
A pale shockwave erupted from the edge of the snow-covered peak, tearing a long streak through the air.
Boom—!
A massive, straight line of snow blasted into the air in its wake. It was the aftermath of a light skill leap. Bong-gong's subordinates, who had been maintaining their formation, reacted instantly.
"Cross square formation! Team One, draw swords! Team Two, nock arrows!"
"Strike! Don't die in vain!"
Ten men drew their swords while another ten drew their bows.
The whistle of their attacks was fierce as they sliced through the air. Their faces were filled with panic, as if they’d never been intercepted mid-leap before, but the chilling waves of energy spreading from their bodies revealed the caliber of warriors from the Thirteen Heavens.
They were disciples of the Dark Night Hall, masters of an archery art capable of dominating foes even at close range.
Swoosh.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned, not even bothering to draw his sword. Perhaps it was because he had reached a realm where warriors from even the great sects barely registered to him, but the thought of drawing his blade felt… awkward.
How much longer will the Commander have to recuperate?
Yeon-shin's body was now in near-perfect condition. He had never felt this light in his entire life. The mysterious efficacy of the lake, resonating with the Lord of the Desolate Fortress's Moon Spirit Harmony Art, had healed him with astonishing speed.
The lake’s energy had assimilated into his halo far more than he had expected. He had even manifested a new light skill, thanks to Cheong-myeong's younger brother.
He was grateful. Just the thought of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress made his heart flutter.
It's been a long time since I last saw her.
It was then.
From above.
"What was that? What was that just now—?"
A beautiful shadow descended, pushing aside the starlight.
Even in the night air, her bright red robes fluttered like the wings of a bat. Her ideally balanced body, befitting a supreme master, radiated a sinister aura.
The Seventh Apostle's appearance was unnervingly natural.
Whoosh!
In her left hand, reddish energy gathered, moving bizarrely. It folded and swirled on its own, generating a strange elasticity before instantly transforming into a profound shockwave. The air tore apart with a sound like a scream.
It took only an instant.
The Seventh Apostle planted her feet one after another in the middle of the peak.
Crunch.
Immediately after, she waved her left hand as if brushing away a fly. A red shroud of energy billowed out in all directions. It was an overwhelming release of internal power, her energy sweeping through the surroundings like the hem of a robe made of blades.
Splat—!
Blood sprayed everywhere. Ten corpses, split to the bone, lay scattered in pieces.
"These pests are so noisy."
The blood splattering across the snow spread like rosewater. Standing on the white and red ground, the Seventh Apostle curled the corners of her lips into a smile.
Her gaze had been fixed on Jeong Yeon-shin the entire time, even as she struck.
"What was that light skill? I almost hesitated to help you. Even the Apostles avoid the Ten-Mile One Kill."
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at her blankly for a moment. He was used to being stalked by the Seventh Apostle by now. While such encounters were no longer surprising, he noticed something different.
The display she had just shown.
Her release of force had become far more sophisticated. Even the density of her internal energy had risen to another level. It meant her martial arts had grown stronger still.
What kind of battles had she fought since they last met? Perhaps she truly had slaughtered some of the Blood Flame Cult's clans, forcing the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation in Shaanxi to open. She looked as though she had honed her body under the best possible conditions—a fitting appearance for a madwoman obsessed with martial arts.
Still, I could probably win now in a head-on clash, he thought.
The martial arts he had perfected, one by one, were shaping him into a true powerhouse. It had become rare for him to worry about survival in a one-on-one fight. Unless one of the few peerless masters in the world appeared, or a great sect orchestrated a deliberate scheme, nothing could threaten him. This was true despite how vast and perilous the world was.
It was the same now.
Even facing an Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult, he felt no tension whatsoever.
He simply saw the Seventh Apostle for who she was: strong, beautiful, and insane.
"Hmm?"
Staring at him with a peculiar expression, she tilted her head slightly.
"Anyway... that martial art that draws constellations, it was a light skill, just like you said. So beautiful it deserves to be seen by my eyes alone."
"You've come at a good time," Jeong Yeon-shin said, gazing at her quietly. "I told you I would repay my debt. Don't run away."
"Don't run away?"
For a moment, the Seventh Apostle's body trembled. Her curved lips seemed to brighten.
Jeong Yeon-shin furrowed his brows. "No. Only while I am repaying the debt."
Instantly, all expression vanished from her face.
"Repaying a debt? Are you just doing this as a formality to ease your conscience? No, that won't do. It's not a true repayment if your heart isn't in it. I have something more important than the Mara True-Blood Art now."
"The debt I owe you for saving my uncle, the Demonlight Wing, and the Radiant Wing Unit is too great to be repaid with mere formalities. You essentially saved my life as well. I want to put an end to this old debt of gratitude and resentment."
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke blankly, swallowing his inner shock. She had completely rejected his mnemonic. He inwardly told himself that the Ultimate Lightning would surely be better than the Revered Flower Convergence anyway.
"I don't believe you. When I wasn't playing the part of Miss Ye, you did nothing but push me away," the Seventh Apostle said dryly. Her pale face became as cold as the snow on the mountain ridge, perfectly reflecting her unpredictable nature. "You claim this isn't a formality? Prove it."
Crunch.
The snow made a low sound as she took a step. She began to approach him slowly, the steady crunch of her footsteps filling the air.
A master of lethal martial arts was closing the distance. No warrior would ever welcome such a thing.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood his ground, measuring the distance. He fell into thought. What must he do to avoid becoming like his father? He had to cherish not only his blood relations but also the ties of his sect, which were just as important. That meant he had to be honorable about the debts of gratitude and resentment that bound them.
Crunch, crunch.
The distance between them shrank. The black robe of the Desolate Fortress and the blood-red robe of the Blood Flame Cult drew closer.
Five steps, seven steps... the quiet sound of boots on snow filled the night air. Her eyes, wide and fixed on him, looked like red jades. Jeong Yeon-shin did not move.
He saw the heat writhing beneath her pale face and the unique gaze of a supreme master. Before he knew it, she was right in front of him.
Rustle.
Their robes brushed against each other in the wind. Their collars touched.
They were too close. He could almost feel the pulse beating in her neck. Jeong Yeon-shin barely held himself back from striking.
He must not resemble his heartless father. The Seventh Apostle would not harm him. Looking back, she never had.
I must not treat my benefactor coldly. I must embrace her as my mother would have.
The Jeong Family Dynamic Art was the foundation of the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing. He had an intuition that if he denied the essence of his mnemonic here, it would create a contradiction that would prevent him from reaching the peerless realm.
Even if he was destined to live a short life, this was a crucial matter. He had to be able to speak proudly of his life at any moment.
His life was a story to be told to his mother one day.
It was then.
Suddenly, his ear tickled. It was her breath, laced with a sinister laugh.
At the same time, a soft, foreign sensation pressed against his neck, accompanied by the feel of four sharp teeth. It was cool, yet warm. The Seventh Apostle had bitten him.
Her thin breath broke softly against the fine hairs of his neck, the touch of her slightly parted lips sending a strange chill through him. How was she even enduring the Dharma power residing in his Law-Transcending Halo Qi?
What is she doing?
A powerful wave of internal power erupted from Jeong Yeon-shin's hand, which had tensed in disbelief. His Brilliant River, imbued with the core principle of continuous operation, was ready to erupt at any moment.
Crunch.
At that same instant, the Seventh Apostle took a step back, a red smile playing on her lips.
"You were serious? My cute Grand Preceptor."
Jeong Yeon-shin furrowed his brows. "Is this a provocation? A claim that you can take my neck with your martial arts? Even if you tried to absorb my essence, my Dharma power would destroy you."
"I don't use the Star Absorption Technique. I was born with talent as noble as yours. Can't you tell just by measuring my accumulated qi? I'm probably no less talented than that Hwangbo trash you took on as a subordinate."
"Don't call him trash," he warned, his tone one that only a member of the Demonlight Wing would use.
The Seventh Apostle didn't seem to care. She merely swept back her ebony hair.
"Your life, your talent, your very being—they're like a comet. Too brilliant and noble to be hidden," she said. "Your mission this time is coming to an end, right? I plan to follow you around."
He could hardly believe it. She was announcing that she, a powerful force in her own right, would be joining him. It was not a welcome prospect. He'd be lucky if his seniors didn't slaughter her on sight. Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.
"The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps will recover his strength soon. If you don't wish to die, stay away."
"Then I'll wait for you in Xiangyang."
"Are you an idler?"
"No. I have things to do wherever I go. Just wait a little," the Seventh Apostle whispered. Madness gleamed in her smooth smile, and for a brief moment, a cold killing intent flashed within it.
Come to think of it, the branches of the Blood Flame Cult were said to outnumber the Apostles. Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly. Surely not...
"And," her lips parted slightly. "About your light skill. Our cult's—no, the Blood Flame Cult's Rakshasa Earth-Shrinking Step is quite close to a divine art. Your sprint was perfect, but if you withdraw the Suction Formula quickly when lifting your back foot, you'll be able to use it a bit longer. I came to tell you this. Since it's you, you'll be able to do it right away."
It was incredibly valuable advice. The Apostles were renowned worldwide for their elusive body protection techniques. Her words contained ideas and subtleties that Jeong Yeon-shin could not have conceived of in such a short time, accumulated over years of mastery. It was enough to refine the light skill that had just been born under the winter starlight.
He shook his head, feigning indifference. "Presumptuous words. Leave now, Seventh Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult."
"I'll stay a bit longer. Shall we look at the constellations together? Your light skill might become even faster."
"In Shaanxi, you spoke of the Governing Vessel mnemonic of the Mara True-Blood Art, calling it the Blood-Preserving Warm Essence. Conversely, the mental image brushing past the Ren Meridian must be cool. Because it differs from the Governing Vessel's mnemonic..."
"Ahhh! Stop it—!"
The Seventh Apostle covered her ears and screamed. "I told you I'd kill you! I'm going to kill you! But I won't!"
Her bright red robes fluttered wildly, matching her incoherent rambling.
Rakshasa Earth-Shrinking Step.
A sinister wave of energy scattered the falling snow. A faint, blood-red light flickered around her legs. The internal power boosting her movement surged, and as she kicked off the ground, her figure instantly shot through the distant air.
Whoosh—!
Her red figure vanished, blending into the gaps between the stars. Having created his own light skill, he now saw her body protection technique in a new light. She had told him to quickly withdraw the Suction Formula, which properly transmitted impact to the earth's axis.
"What a nuisance," Jeong Yeon-shin muttered, like a monk who had just exorcised an evil spirit. She plans to keep following me?
At that moment, his eyebrows rose slightly. The words of the Mount Hua Sect Leader suddenly crossed his mind. She had said that the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost of the Deep Martial Alliance was following him—the master of Sword Control who had dealt a decisive blow to the Ghost Soul Divine Sword of the Hegemon Sword Sect.
That was when I was refining the Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style.
Did she harbor a grudge after losing their bet? Did she intend to contest their martial arts fairly and put an end to it with her own hands? The minds of martial artists often worked that way.
Three factions of the Thirteen Heavens had just coordinated an assassination attempt on him. The eyes fixed on the Commander of the Demonlight Wing were multiplying by the day. The Lord of the Dark Night Hall, who was said to have been heavily wounded by the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, would not let him off easily either. Then there was the Eldest Son of the Deep Martial Alliance, who had lost his fiancée to him. The young master of a great sect that commanded a mighty army.
This isn't the end. There must be more.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the scattered corpses and turned away.
Crunch.
The piled snow crumbled beneath his leather shoes. He felt as if he had stepped on something else—a Thunderbolt Bomb bound by gratitude and resentment, capable of exploding at any time and in any form. He was gradually advancing toward the heart of the martial world.
* * *
Upon returning to the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar, he was met with peculiar gazes.
The moment he stepped inside the formation, warm air enveloped him, along with stares that felt like dew clinging to village shrubbery.
"I never imagined a way to crack the Ten-Mile One Kill like that. I am infinitely grateful to the Commander of the Demonlight Wing."
"The fear hanging over our village has largely lifted. I do not know how we can ever repay you..."
The Brightfolk experts descended from the towering trees. The indifferent gazes that had once looked down on the Desolate Fortress group as if they were old trees were now gone. They simply surrounded their benefactor in a dense crowd.
Jeong Yeon-shin checked on his companions first.
Cheong-myeong, who had been treated with cold distance at the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar, pushed through the crowd and approached, his face filled with deep emotion.
"It feels like only yesterday I was teaching you our clan's movements, and now you've mastered all three types of body protection techniques: footwork, movement arts, and a light skill."
"I named it the Ten-Mile Light Grace," Jeong Yeon-shin stated, his voice carrying the authority of a Unit Commander.
His subordinate Cheong-myeong's lips parted slightly before a faint smile formed. "It seems the Sect Leader has gone to prepare a grand reward... and I, too, wish to give you something."
"I heard the Main Fortress Chief Steward's Office is also preparing rewards for our achievements in Shaanxi. We will return as soon as the Commander recovers," the Commander of the Demonlight Wing commanded.
By now, a peculiar quality had begun to color his voice—something unique to those who walked the martial world alone.
Suddenly, a wind rustled the grass and blew past, lightly lifting the hem of his pitch-black robe.
Swoosh—
The hem of his robe, which had brushed the floor during his promotion, now fluttered at his ankles. Its black hue was deeper than before.