Chapter 297: Lotus (16)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 297: Lotus (16)
Standing atop the pure white blade, Baek Seo-gun turned her head. Her gaze swept over the massive crowd, where commoners nodded in agreement with the Slaying Hero's words.
She possessed such a profound, auspicious aura that even those ignorant of the Jianghu would feel compelled to bow.
To the common folk, sword flight was a legendary feat, a divine technique of the Sword Immortal Lü Dongbin spoken of only in Taoist myths.
"A Dharma treasure?"
Her clear, transparent gaze fell upon him from where she floated in midair, performing the miracle of sword flight. Yet, the Slaying Hero calmly met her eyes—a gaze that even the most formidable masters would find difficult to endure.
He carried himself as if he were accustomed to dealing with ultimate masters like the Duke of Eminent Fists, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, and the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost herself.
"Yes. It was left behind by the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, the man who claimed the life of the Eon Family's Number One Fist. And it's not as if any of the eccentric experts who share a deep bond with you are present to claim it."
His gesture of stroking the black silk covering his mouth seemed somewhat sly. He appeared to be weighing the relationship between the Desolate Fortress's Commander of the Demonlight Wing and the Deep Martial Alliance's Sword Venerable. His innate temperament was refined, yet deeply enigmatic.
"Who are you?" Baek Seo-gun, the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, asked.
She did not deign to discuss the Dharma treasure.
At that moment, as her gaze shifted downward, a strange breeze arose, coldly sweeping past the robes of the local aristocrats gathered below. The sheer pressure of the internal energy radiating from her pitch-black eyes was immense.
With just a brief glance at the pebble at the Slaying Hero's feet, she seemed to have already grasped the entire situation.
The local aristocrats and the commoners reacted in their own ways. Confronted with a sight as surreal as sword flight, the murmuring among the crowd grew louder and louder.
"Why is the Sword Ghost of Henan... in Shanxi?"
"To think such a technique actually existed... I thought it was just a rumor..."
"An immortal fairy—no, a divine general has descended...!"
Standing tall beneath her, only the Slaying Hero remained entirely composed, tilting his black bamboo hat slightly upward.
"Please forgive me for not disclosing my name. I have deep grudges with certain wicked factions... In any case, here in Shanxi, they have given me the undeserving title of Slaying Hero."
Sss.
Chuckling softly, the Slaying Hero raised his clasped hands in an exaggerated salute. As his pitch-black sleeves slid down, the lean, corded muscles of his forearms stood out—a body forged through the mastery of the ultimate Fast Sword.
Looking down from her lofty height, Baek Seo-gun's eyes remained utterly indifferent.
"I do not know who you are."
"Of course. Compared to the Sword Venerable, whose name resounds across the land, I am merely an insignificant assassin. Only the rather notorious name of my sect is somewhat known. The Midday Moon Great Slaughter Gate."
"The Midday Moon Great Slaughter Gate...?"
A strange light flashed across Baek Seo-gun's face as she repeated the sect's name, accompanied by a colorless gleam from her eye technique.
Seeing her expression, the Slaying Hero froze mid-motion as he was lowering his hands. Paying him no mind, she spoke again.
"I can guess your origins. You've managed to survive... but I have no reason to concern myself with you."
Sss.
The moment Baek Seo-gun reached out her hand, a faint ray of light rose from the Slaying Hero's feet and flew into her grasp. It was the afterimage of the Dharma treasure. She had retrieved it not with an absorption technique, but through the profound principles of sword control.
While the surrounding aristocrats looked on in sheer terror at the near-total absence of any internal energy fluctuation, the pebble drawn to her wrist vanished into her long, ash-gray sleeve. It never touched her skin. To any observer, she clearly seemed concerned about its true owner.
"We address the Sword Venerable of the Deep Martial Alliance! The local aristocrats of this land were just about to mediate!"
"Would you care to descend for a moment?"
The Shanxi aristocrats who had been surrounding the Slaying Hero raised their voices, attempting to sound dignified. Though their suppressed auras were honed as sharp as blades, not a single one of them dared to make a move.
Whether they could subdue the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost by force was a secondary concern. The real problem was the massive martial army of the Deep Martial Alliance backing her—a great sect second only to the Blood Flame Cult in sheer numbers. Unlike ordinary blood ghosts, the vast majority of their forces were said to be elite martial artists.
Furthermore, the current Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance was publicly known as the Monarch Martial Emperor, the title of an absolute master of the Thirteen Heavens. Even with the Imperial Family and the Desolate Fortress watching vigilantly, the words "king" and "emperor" still echoed boldly throughout the Jianghu.
Moreover, the distance between the Deep Martial Alliance in northwestern Henan and Shanxi was incredibly short. With the second-in-command of that very alliance hovering right above their heads, anyone would be forced to hesitate.
As Baek Seo-gun turned her gaze toward the distant mountains, the voices of the Shanxi aristocrats instinctively faltered.
"Sword Venerable, you must not resolve Jianghu disputes in such a manner."
"This is a martial arts tournament that we went to great lengths to organize...!"
Pfft.
The black silk hanging from the bridge of the Slaying Hero's nose twitched slightly.
"Those fellows must be masters of the Heart Sword. They could kill a bystander with sheer embarrassment."
His voice was laced with amusement. Since he made no effort to lower his tone, his words carried far and wide. Yet, the local aristocrats did not dare act rashly. The terrifying life-and-death duel between the Eon Family's Number One Fist and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had just given them a chilling demonstration of what true masters were capable of.
The crowd in the arena looked up at Baek Seo-gun, the Yeongcheon Sword Ghost, with bated breath, like sinners awaiting the judgment of King Yama.
"……."
However, she now seemed to have completely forgotten the events unfolding below. She merely stared blankly in the direction where the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had vanished, her feet hesitating slightly on the blade.
Having descended like an immortal, Baek Seo-gun hesitated to take another step.
'Flash Art Jeong Yeon-shin.'
The boy who had translated the principles of baduk taught by the Jeong Family Head into the way of the sword. The image of him raising his blade high in the posture of Sacrificing a Stone for Initiative was still vivid in her mind.
It had been an immense source of comfort to her of late. Her lofty status had long made her feel as if the wealth and glory before her were not truly her own. The moment those profound principles, reminiscent of Jeong Pan-ak's teachings, manifested before her as a super-ascension sword art, she had comforted herself with the thought that her past as a mere maid of the Jeong Family Manor was not insignificant.
He had severed the deep-seated inferiority complex that had plagued her even after she became the renowned Sword Venerable. The current Commander of the Demonlight Wing had severed it for her.
—I didn't realize it when I left, but facing you like this brings a strange sensation. I see Pan-ak in your face.
—If I hadn't made that fateful choice, I would have walked through Xinye County holding your hand. But this is fine too. You received all the love I could never give you. Seeing how healthy your complexion is... I cannot help but wonder how you were raised.
—You grew up well. I am glad the family fulfilled its duty before vanishing.
Those words, spoken in days past.
'Ah...'
Those words and actions, as unrestrained as the life he had lived, now felt like iron bars tightening around her. A cold sensation pierced her, fracturing the pride of the Sword Venerable and exposing the fragile foundation upon which the names 'Yeongcheon Sword Ghost' and 'Sword Venerable' were built.
She was, after all, a maid who had served Jeong Pan-ak until she was nearly twenty.
It was a thought she had repeated dozens of times. She had to sever it.
Press.
Pressing down hard on the flat of the blade beneath her feet, she slowly shook her head. She had to face it now. Only then could she truly establish the Sword Venerable Baek Seo-gun within herself.
Hummmm.
The pure white divine sword beneath her feet hummed as it soared into the sky.
"Wait! Look here! Look here!"
"Even if you are one of the Deep Martial Alliance's Three Martial Venerables, you cannot treat us like this!"
"Consider how much grain flows from Shanxi to Henan! Do you think any other place could supply this much during a famine?!"
The petty clamor of the aristocrats below never reached her ears. The speed of sword flight was incomparably faster than any lightness skill. Without so much as a glance downward, she soared into the distant sky, her figure rapidly blurring into a faint speck amidst a low hum.
"Damn her!"
"Does she think she's the only powerful master in the world?!"
The local aristocrats, dressed in luxurious silks, spat curses. Some adjusted their waistbands or tightened the laces of their leather boots, looking as if they were ready to give chase.
"You have truly mastered the Heart Sword of the Shame Lineage. It is a level of mastery worthy of a grandmaster. I am deeply impressed."
An exaggeratedly polite voice rang out.
It was the Slaying Hero.
Before anyone realized, he had lightly stepped onto the edge of the ruined martial arts stage. He cast a glance toward Heonwon Chang, who was staring at him from a distance. Even as his body blurred, wrapped in an incredibly elusive body protection scripture, he winked at Heonwon Chang and his companions.
Whoosh!
The Slaying Hero vanished into the distance. In the blink of an eye, Shin So-bin, who stood beside Heonwon Chang, found him completely gone.
* * *
A pale, whitish streak of light carved a long, straight line through the air.
Swoooosh—!
The current Commander of the Demonlight Wing was tearing through the sky. The shredded wind erupted in a continuous, deafening roar behind him. He shot straight across the occasional swamps and lakes in his path.
The Ten-Mile Light Grace was inspired by the Brightfolk and inherently contained the profound principles of Grass-Gliding and the Water-Walking Technique. It was a lightness skill that was forging Jeong Yeon-shin into a flawless powerhouse.
Boom!
The immense air resistance pressed hard against his skin, but Jeong Yeon-shin kept his eyes wide open. Even as he rapidly scanned his surroundings with his sense of qi, he closely examined the landscape rushing past.
'They must have gone this way.'
He was tracing the faint remnants of the powerful true qi fluctuations left behind by the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps and the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit. Their uniquely profound internal energy signatures still lingered. By relentlessly pursuing them and occasionally activating the Sight of the Lowly, he was gradually shaping his own distinct tracking technique.
At this moment, he had no reason to envy the tracking skills of Jang Sun-il, the herb-gatherer boy who had inherited the Compendium of Demon Extermination. There was no flaw in Jeong Yeon-shin's tracking.
'But...'
The trail suddenly cut off, only for the intangible resonance to reappear far away, as if the line had been severed and reattached elsewhere. It lay beyond a thicket blocked by a snow-covered hill.
This was already the third time.
It meant the two seniors were inside some sort of isolated space—and that space seemed to be constantly on the move. Unless they were crossing distances using the legendary Earth-Shrinking Art of the immortals, this was not a phenomenon mere martial artists could produce.
It was the trace of a mystical miracle. They had clashed with the Jegal Clan Leader.
Thud!
Kicking off the ground once more, Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes. The trail of battle was far too long, meaning they were, at the very least, evenly matched.
"Ah..."
For a moment, a cold dread gripped his heart. The rotation of his halo ground to a halt. A hollow sound escaped his lips. The mere thought of another loss was enough to freeze him in place.
Ak Su-rim and Jin Myeong-jo... dead?
'No. That can't happen.'
Boom!
A shockwave of internal energy exploded beneath his feet. The surrounding thickets flattened in all directions, and shredded leaves, pulverized by the force of his lightness skill, soared into the howling wind.
"Flash Art? It's Flash Art!"
A woman's voice rapidly grew louder from the sky above. Jeong Yeon-shin snapped his head up, his eyes widening.
Flutter!
Black robes fluttered violently in the wind. Behind her short, pitch-black hair, an incredibly powerful wave of lightness skill energy distorted the air in ripples. She seemed to be descending from a massive leap.
"I need some meat and blood! It's not desperately urgent, so look around carefully!" Ak Su-rim shouted from high in the sky.
She was barely managing to carry a pitch-black figure slung over her narrow shoulders.
* * *
Rustle.
Dry grass on the nameless mountain crumbled beneath his pitch-black leather boots.
Jeong Yeon-shin scanned his surroundings. He had just descended after sprinting in all directions, unable to find any signs of life. Jin Myeong-jo's condition was too critical to make the journey to a nearby town, so Jeong Yeon-shin expanded his senses, searching for any living creature.
He had rushed here without even hearing the details of what had happened, told only that escaping the Jegal Clan Leader's domain was their utmost priority. Ak Su-rim had immediately sat cross-legged and entered qi meditation. She was an ultimate master who looked upon the state of Five Qi Converging to the Origin, far beyond the Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak. With her absolute mastery over her internal energy, she had no need for a protector.
'Wild animals...'
It was a winter of famine. The wild animals had all but died out. Even wild boars had become exceedingly rare, eluding the keen senses of renowned masters. This was precisely why banditry was rampant and the strong were so highly regarded.
Hoo—
White mist drifted from Jeong Yeon-shin's lips. Two hours had passed. A Black Rank ultimate master had failed to catch a single thing. It was an unbelievable failure. Was it due to his lack of experience? He felt the harsh reality of the famine more deeply than ever.
'Senior Jin needs the vitality contained in fresh blood...'
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin bit his lower lip in frustration, something massive caught his eye, accompanied by a faint, metallic scent of blood.
From a distance, a huge shape glided through the air as if floating, moving as though propelled by a high-level Void Treading technique. It was a dead wild boar.
"...?"
It drifted closer, almost hesitantly, before dropping to the ground with a heavy thud. The massive beast rolled to a stop at Jeong Yeon-shin's feet, its heavy, lifeless form casting a bleak shadow.
It was as if someone had tossed him prey.
But in these chaotic times, no true swordsman would blindly accept such a gift, even from someone who had once done them a great service.
"What is this? Skulking around like a wildcat."
The eyes of the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing sharpened like blades.