Chapter 282: Lotus
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 282: Lotus
Ak Su-rim smiled brightly.
"I'm going to take the Jegal Clan Leader's head."
Her words echoed bleakly against the gray stone walls of the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall.
Her cheerful voice carried a weight as explosive as a Thunderbolt Bomb. The Jegal Clan Leader was a peerless expert known as the Reincarnated Crouching Dragon. Though he had been ousted, he was still one of the Eight Clan Leaders.
He had long reigned as an absolute power in the Jianghu. Jeong Yeon-shin asked reflexively, "Did you say the Jegal Clan Leader?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It seems he's trying to found a new sect, and it's highly sacrilegious. It's far too secretive. You've heard the rumors that Lingering Spirit is trying to unite the Thirteen Heavens, right? It appears the Jegal Clan Leader has a hand in it. It's a massive threat."
"How did you find out?"
"Intelligence from a White-Ranked warrior of the Netherflow Unit. He's from a ruined noble family and has experienced all the ups and downs of the world. Since Shanxi doesn't have any major sects worth keeping an eye on, he was dispatched there alone in disguise."
"What kind of disguise?"
"A scholar for the Gongya Clan. He's teaching the Grand Lady of the Gongya Clan, who is his intermediate target."
"Speaking of the Gongya Clan, there is also someone from there in the Demonlight Wing..."
"You mean Gongya Mi-ryeong of the Deep Heroic Fist? I know. She's her second cousin. It's not that important. The Central Plains are vast enough to make you spit blood, yet surprisingly narrow. Even more so for the upper class."
Ak Su-rim shook her head slightly and continued.
"They say that if you win the Shanxi Martial Arts Tournament, you become the joint successor to the Jegal Clan Leader and the Eon Family's Number One Fist. It's a rumor circulating only among a tiny fraction of local influential figures. The Chief Steward's Office apparently cross-referenced it through various channels, and it seems quite credible."
"I see. The main fortress's intelligence gathering is lagging far behind."
"The Jegal Clan Leader briefly showed himself in Shanxi. We still don't know what kind of conspiracy is afoot, though."
Ak Su-rim stretched with a groan and smiled, her face scrunching up playfully.
"I'm going too this time. It's about time we let the world know the main fortress is still going strong."
"Is there a specific reason you need to do that?"
"No, no! It's just that some bastards occasionally forget the power of the main fortress and run wild. Anyway, he's the guy who threatened your life, so we have plenty of justification. Honestly, I wanted to crush him at the Martial World Alliance, but..."
She waved her slender hand dismissively.
"Anyway, prepare yourself well. Shanxi is quite far from here. Though traveling with me won't be boring."
"Are just the two of us going?"
"The Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit, that Jin kid, will go with us too. We don't know what variables might arise. It's a rather peculiar place, and the Jegal Clan Leader makes me uneasy."
"Senior Divine Blood Ultimate Demon... That is reassuring."
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded readily and fell into thought. Jegal Cheong-a weighed on his mind.
Ever since joining the Demonlight Wing as a guest warrior, she had silently stood by his side in Shaanxi. Was it truly alright to take her father's head?
Though she was the very person who had ousted the Jegal Clan Leader alongside the Fan Dragon...
It was still something he needed to discuss with her.
* * *
A loess-colored wilderness.
The occasional dusty wind howled bleakly.
The winter sunlight spread alongside the biting chill. Though it shone brightly and ceaselessly, the silence of the wilderness remained hollow.
Only the distant clashing of blades from warriors stepping swiftly across the barren land echoed faintly.
Clang! Thud!
Amidst the violent fluttering of multi-colored martial robes, dozens of sword lights flickered in all directions.
Trapped within those sharp trajectories was a handsome scholar clad in white. It was a four-on-one battle.
Whenever the encirclement was on the verge of tearing, arrows would inevitably fly in to restrict the scholar's movements.
"Ugh!"
A man dressed in elegant silk robes watched them with his hands clasped behind his back. His smooth, orange collar danced to the shockwaves of the fierce battle.
He watched the spectacle from beneath a canopy, flanked by nearly twenty escort warriors.
He had the appearance of a wealthy merchant. Nobility exuded from his slender face down to the golden embroidery on his yellow robes.
"They say the warriors of the Desolate Fortress are the grim reapers of the Jianghu, and now I finally see the truth in those rumors," the man said. "He is holding his own against my sword masters all by himself, dressed as nothing more than a lowly scholar."
The servant standing beside him bowed his head.
"He won't last long. If you were to lift but a single finger, Merchant Group Leader, his head would fly."
He was right.
The great merchants of this chaotic age possessed both wealth and martial prowess. With a single gesture, they could command dozens of formidable swords.
In these lean years when putting food on the table was difficult, high-caliber swordsmen flocked to anyone who could provide delicacies and luxurious lodgings.
The man spoke with an indifferent face.
"This, too, is entertainment. Where else could I watch the antics of a watchdog putting on airs just because he wields the imperial sword? Desolate Fortress warriors are premium goods, hard to come by. You rarely even see them in the arenas of the Black Market."
"I have disrupted your amusement, my lord. My apologies."
The servant bowed. The man's lips curled slightly as he spoke again.
"Can anyone here guess the origin of his martial arts?"
It was, quite literally, a game.
They enjoyed capturing and mocking noble warriors. Among the experts who wielded superhuman power, there were few who did not fear the Great Ming Code and the Desolate Fortress.
In an era of lawlessness where all kinds of experts ran rampant, those who had amassed great power desired to stand above the masses.
Two swordsmen stepped forward.
"Given how well the scholar disguise suits him, I wondered if it was the White Lightning Radiant Sword Force of the Heaven-Aligned Wing... but the presence of his sword path is too faint, so it seems not. He pursues precision over heavy strikes."
"Isn't his wild swinging rather reckless? Perhaps it is the Demonlight Formula of the Demonlight Wing. I hear their combat style relies entirely on instinct."
The merchant did not reply.
He merely crossed his arms and watched the man's struggle within the combined attack formation.
The dignified figures of the Desolate Fortress were being dragged down by the tongues of mere underlings. The scholar was like meat on a chopping board. This was enough to satisfy him.
Thud! Clang!
To those who pursued power, the Divine Sword Corps of the Desolate Fortress was an object of love and hate.
In places where the tyranny of Jianghu sects was severe, people looked up to and sought the imperial sword. Conversely, in regions like Shanxi Province, which lacked any notable major sects, they were shunned.
It was a local Jianghu. They had their own order.
Shanxi had historically been a place where the power of the government and the military was strong, and the warriors of the Desolate Fortress were treated with far greater hospitality than any regular government official.
Powerful local gentry and merchant groups had to hold their breath before the character 'Hwang' representing the Imperial family.
Amidst this stifling atmosphere, a peerless expert had secretly reached out, proposing to establish a new order.
The Reincarnated Crouching Dragon, the Jegal Clan Leader.
The merchant had willingly joined hands with him.
And he was not the only one. The vast province of Shanxi had long been secretly responding. They were prepared.
They poured out silver coins to bribe officials and used their extensive network of informants to recruit martial talents of verified identity and caliber, all while filtering out external eyes.
The merchant had been lucky.
While touring the mountain peaks with his subordinates, he had witnessed a strange sight.
A highly reputed scholar was releasing two messenger pigeons from the foot of the mountain below.
The man had been acting as a guest at the Gongya Clan. Though highly learned, he supposedly had no connections, so he lived as the scholar for the Grand Lady of the Gongya Clan.
This was thanks to the local magistrate certifying his status as a retired scholar. He was said to be a Jinshi graduate who had passed the Metropolitan Examination.
The power of the wealthy had begun to pierce the heavens. They could do whatever they pleased.
I, too, coveted him because he had no connections.
The merchant, who happened to be out for a stroll, ordered his underling to shoot down one of the messenger pigeons with an arrow.
It was pure luck. The timing was perfect, and the letter tied to the pigeon's leg hinted at the scholar's true identity.
But even an official warrior of the Desolate Fortress was ultimately human. He could not withstand the sword masters and the barrage of arrows all on his own.
He was driven all the way to the fields outside the city. The Ultimate Spear Trading Company exquisitely coordinated the movements of the fierce battle, turning the deserted wilderness into their personal hunting ground.
There are many wolves in the city, so do not contact them. This achievement is mine. The Jegal Clan Leader will be pleased.
The merchant's eyes gleamed.
It was a chaotic age where strength determined one's status. He had amassed wealth to rise to the ranks of the strong. He was so infatuated with slaughter that he frequently visited the arenas of the Black Market just to watch.
The pleasure of toying with a precious disciple of the Desolate Fortress with a mere gesture was immense. He truly felt like a powerful man.
"Slowly. Subdue him slowly. You must not kill him."
The master's order was given.
Clang!
The trajectories of the four swords forming the square formation grew tighter. The arrows flying between them, laden with shockwaves, thoroughly restricted the scholar's movements.
Blood splattered in small droplets from various cuts on his skin. The swordplay of the scholar, whose white clothes were now stained red, grew frantic.
He realized their intention was to exhaust his internal power and stamina.
"Judging by your martial prowess, you are certainly a White-Ranked warrior, but our trading company's military strength is not on the level of some minor sect," the merchant spoke as if humming a refined tune. "If we are to roam the Jianghu in this chaotic age, we must easily be able to subdue a single white sword, shouldn't we?"
"If you wish to protect the people's livelihood, fill our bellies first. Your conventional notions are highly troublesome. We hire the commoners and generously bestow grain and salt upon them, so we should not be treated poorly. Yet, whenever martial arts are involved in protecting our interests, you think only of punishment. My uncle in Henan suffered greatly at your hands."
Having said that, he muttered to himself, This isn't a conversation to be had with a mere White-Ranked warrior.
"Nonsense only fit for times of peace...! You bastards who entered the Jianghu by piling up gold!" the scholar shouted, parrying the combined sword strikes and arrows. He disrupted his own combat breathing to speak, his face filled with intense resentment.
The merchant's lips curled upward.
"How delightful. Now you finally sound like a plaything. You are the one who will secure my son's entry into the Jegal Clan Leader's tutelage."
The fight continued until dusk. The sun, sinking below the horizon, cast a faint orange glow.
It stretched out like silk alongside the cool air, accompanied by the fading sound of clashing blades.
Then, suddenly.
The scholar's sword faltered. It was an extremely brief moment.
Whoosh—! Boom!
Someone landed behind the encirclement. The recoil was immense, as if they had leaped from a distant ridge.
A subtle aura of light spread across the ground, which shook as if an earthquake had struck.
It was as if starlight was pushing away the desolate sunset. It was so mysterious that, at a glance, it hardly seemed real.
"What...?"
The merchant and his escort warriors stirred in confusion. They could not even react properly.
Crash! Boom!
On either side of the figure, two dark shapes plunged down like meteors.
Along with an incredibly violent shockwave, cracks raced across the ground in all directions, and a thick cloud of dust rose.
The silhouettes of a girl holding a long spear and a man exuding an eerie energy were revealed.
The energy rising from them like a wildfire was immense. For a moment, it felt as if their presence filled the entire world.
"From where do you masters hail?" the merchant asked, feigning composure.
The figure who had arrived first raised an arm. It was before his hair, swept up by the aftermath of the landing, had even settled.
A typhoon-like suction force arose from his hand, warping the very air.
The moment the shockwaves of attraction and repulsion tore through the air and collided like lightning, the weapons of the scholar and the four swordsmen flew from their grips.
Instantly, sword light flashed.
Slash—!
It was the sound of flesh and bone being severed together. A faint, pale line appeared on the necks of the four swordsmen who had formed the combined attack formation.
Spurt!
Four heads fell with heavy thuds.
Four blood-stained swords and one pristine blade floated in the air. The sword in the center belonged to the scholar, swimming through the sky with a solitary, noble air.
The instantaneous wave of internal power was incredibly powerful. The headless corpses swayed against the storm of shockwaves as if they were still alive.
Amidst the chaos, the scholar, his eyes a distinct black and white, parted his lips.
"...Since it has been a long time since I was dispatched, I do not know your esteemed name."
He used a highly respectful tone. The man's robes proved his high status.
Rustle.
The pitch-black hair of the man who had reached out fell long. The mystical aura of his black hair extended down to his sharp jawline.
An unrivaled temperament exuded from him, remaining unbroken the moment he parted his red lips.
"White-Ranked warrior."
The scholar clasped his hands together. His posture was neat and orderly.
"I pay my respects to the Black Rank of the main fortress."
"You must belong to the Netherflow Unit."
"...Yes, that is correct."
"I am the Commander of the Demonlight Wing," he said.