Chapter 30: Genius (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 30: Genius (2)
The mountain was in an uproar.
They were in the middle of dealing with the aftermath of the raid, and the Zhongnan Sect's main force had just returned from striking a branch of the Hegemon Sword Sect.
After a day of waiting for the dust to settle, Jeong Yeon-shin and Heonwon Chang were finally granted an audience with the master of Mount Zhongnan. They were accompanied by First Elder Yeo Il-shin, who had shown him favor during the tragic annihilation of the Jeong Family Manor.
"You have done us a great favor."
The Sect Leader of the Zhongnan Sect possessed exceptionally handsome features. Draped in a yellow robe, with ears as pointed as blades, he exuded the aura of a true hero of the age.
The Western Heaven Sword Duke, Guyang Shin.
He was the son of First Elder Yeo Il-shin and a late master from the Sword Sect. Though said to be seventy years old, he didn't look a day over thirty. He was of mixed Han and Brightfolk descent, a fact made obvious by his ears.
"Jeong Hye is a child whom the Sword Immortal personally watches over. Since you have saved a disciple of our sect, it is only right that we reward you."
Like most Brightfolk, his handsomeness was comparable to Cheong-myeong's, but his aura was entirely different. He possessed the gravity befitting the leader of a great sect.
Guyang Shin quietly studied the two members of the Demonlight Wing before speaking.
"Tell me what you desire from our sect."
Beside him, Jeong Yeon-shin felt Heonwon Chang flinch. He clearly hadn't expected such a generous reward. Yeon-shin could practically hear the gears turning in Heonwon Chang's mind—or rather, his upper dantian, which likely hadn't even been opened yet.
Yeon-shin hoped he wouldn't make an unreasonable demand. Asking for something like a spirit medicine would only cheapen their position as honored guests.
He decided to speak first.
"Please allow us to assist you in the fight against the Hegemon Sword Sect."
"Hmph."
It was Yeo Il-shin who reacted. She gave Jeong Yeon-shin a complicated look before slowly closing her eyes.
He had wanted to ask about the reason for his family's annihilation, but he refused to waste this opportunity on a matter of personal duty.
"The Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing," Guyang Shin said, a faint flicker of emotion crossing his face. "I hear you recovered my late father's legacy. Because I belonged to another sect, he did not pass down his secret techniques, not even to his own son. How paradoxical that the Desolate Fortress would end up with them."
"I merely used it as inspiration for my own sword style. I have no intention of mastering or spreading the Nine Yang First Form."
"Arrogant. Yet amusing."
Perhaps he sensed the conviction in Yeon-shin's calm demeanor, or perhaps he had caught a glimpse of the boy's extraordinary nature.
In Yeon-shin's estimation, his maternal grandfather Ma Yeon-jeok's martial prowess was far below what it had been in his prime. Otherwise, the gazes of the Western Heaven Sword Duke and the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan wouldn't have felt so much more terrifying.
"I heard you passed the mnemonic to Myo-hwa. That, too, is a great favor. Even if you wish to take the vanguard, I cannot refuse you."
In a clash between martial forces, the vanguard was the very face of a sect. The Sect Leader of the Zhongnan Sect was showing him immense recognition.
Guyang Shin's deep eyes remained fixed on Jeong Yeon-shin. Could it be that even a man praised as the greatest sword in the western lands could not escape his father's shadow? A faint trace of love and hate seemed to flicker in his eyes.
It was the same for Yeo Il-shin. The child she had seen during the bloody tragedy of the Jeong Family Manor had restored her husband's sword art.
"The providence of heaven is truly profound. To think our fates would intertwine like this..."
"I have a separate matter to ask of the First Elder. At the time, I was too distracted to hear everything."
At Jeong Yeon-shin's words, her face stiffened.
* * *
Wiji Myo-hwa's sword rose straight up, blocking the sunlight in a graceful high stance. The gentle light of the midday sun blended serenely with the crisp air of Mount Zhongnan.
Amidst this tranquility, her sword alone was restless.
True to its name, the Nine Yang First Form was a single, decisive strike. Jeong Yeon-shin was the anomaly, weaving a continuous flow of attacks from that single, repeated strike.
Whoosh!
The sword path, which should have severed nine suns at once, faltered and warped.
Watching from the side, the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan clicked his tongue.
"You cannot focus at all."
"I am sorry. I am putting on a pathetic display."
"Is it because of Yeon-shin?"
Wiji Myo-hwa shook her head.
"No. The problem lies within my own heart."
She had already fully acknowledged Jeong Yeon-shin's sword. Wiji Myo-hwa's inner demon did not stem from jealousy. She was not so narrow-minded.
It was just that her own martial talent, which she had built and tirelessly refined throughout her life, suddenly felt utterly futile. It was a sense of emptiness more than jealousy.
"That Radiant Brilliance Sword Style... it's not inferior to the Nine Yang First Form, is it? Am I seeing that correctly?"
"You are," the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan replied briefly. There was nothing more to say about Jeong Yeon-shin's martial arts.
"It wasn't just at the level of ten percent mastery. When we trained together, he immediately bypassed ten percent, reaching twenty, then thirty... It’s hard enough to believe he created such a high-level martial art, but his mastery of a technique he had just learned completely overwhelmed my Nine Yang First Form."
"That boy has already achieved your goal."
As Wiji Myo-hwa lowered her sword and looked at the Sword Immortal, he slowly continued.
"He is a grandmaster who has transcended his age. It is only natural that he masters a martial art of his own creation so quickly. All things and teachings in human history are the same; they naturally fit the creator's body best. There is no martial art in the world for which this is not true."
"He must possess a talent that will never be seen again in this world. One that even I cannot hope to catch up to..."
"Zen Master Bodhidharma of Shaolin and the Wudang founder, Perfected Zhang Sanfeng, were the same. Living in the same era as such grandmasters can be a blessing, depending on your mindset. Have you not also received the Nine Yang First Form because of him?"
"...You are right. It is an incomparable grace."
Wiji Myo-hwa smiled faintly—a smile of resignation. The anguish that tormented her was forcibly suppressed, aided by the mental cultivation she had built as a disciple of Zhongnan.
While her pride as the Sword Dragon and her youthful blood screamed at her not to be overtaken, she lacked the confidence that she could stay ahead of Jeong Yeon-shin forever. In the near future, she would be the one looking at his back. She decided to accept it.
A favorable wind brushed past her silky hair as if to lend her strength. Yet, her grip on the sword did not immediately tighten. She had just prepared herself to step down from the peak of her generation; it was impossible for her spirits to be high.
"...I did not intend to speak of this."
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan sighed. Though Jeong Yeon-shin felt like a grandson to him, he could not compare to Wiji Myo-hwa, whom he had raised like his own granddaughter.
"Listen, but you must keep this to yourself."
"Pardon?"
"It is about Yeon-shin. His Baihui point, through which he communes with nature."
He continued, addressing the bewildered Wiji Myo-hwa.
"It was a minute change at first, but it grows more different with each passing day. He is absorbing too much of the world's energy. It's an extremely dangerous state, one that even most peerless experts would struggle to endure."
"What do you mean...?"
"He does not have long to live. Yet, he struggles so fiercely, as if trying to leave his mark upon the world."
At those shocking words, Wiji Myo-hwa's eyes widened.
Before she knew it, the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan had clasped his hands behind his back, staring blankly at a cloud-shrouded mountain peak.
"Regardless of martial prowess or age, I felt a sense of profound respect. I, for Yeon-shin."
* * *
After the discussion with Guyang Shin and Yeo Il-shin, news arrived that the Hegemon Sword Sect had issued a challenge for a decisive battle. The message was short yet intense.
– Let us engage in a Great Battle three days after Rain Water.
It was the end of February.
In the martial world, a Great Battle was a war where sects clashed with all their might, staking their very survival. It was entirely different from the sporadic skirmishes of the past.
A head-on clash between a pillar of the Thirteen Heavens and a wing of the Nine Sects. An event that would shake the entire Jianghu was about to unfold.
The timeframe was too tight for sects across the Central Plains to react. The day of the decisive battle arrived in the blink of an eye.
Fwooooosh—
The wind sweeping across the vast Guanzhong Plains felt harsh.
This was said to be the place where Wiji Myo-hwa had once slain the leader of an unorthodox sect, earning her title as the Sword Dragon.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood among the disciples of the Zhongnan Sect, his eyes fixed ahead.
A razor-sharp aura blazed from the crowd of what must have been two hundred people. The Hegemon Sword Sect of the Thirteen Heavens of the Wicked Way. It was a sect said to covet the most tyrannical power in the world.
At the forefront stood the absolute master from his memories.
The Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect. His expressionless face was familiar. As before, he kept his massive sword planted in the ground, unleashing his aura without restraint. Though they were easily a thousand paces apart, a monstrous wave of energy surged over them.
Now that Yeon-shin had properly mastered martial arts, he could truly appreciate the man's absurd level of power.
"So that man is Young Hero Jeong's enemy," Heonwon Chang said, glaring ahead. He knew his companion's story. Perhaps their bond had deepened without him realizing it, for he showed no sign of backing down.
For the first time, Jeong Yeon-shin saw in Heonwon Chang a quality worthy of being called a Divine Hero.
Keeping his gratitude to himself, he stepped forward. He walked to where the Sect Leader of the Zhongnan Sect, the Western Heaven Sword Duke Guyang Shin, stood gazing at the enemy.
Just then, someone from the Hegemon Sword Sect's side stepped out alone and shouted.
"The third disciple of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect! Is there any rising star who dares to face the sword of I, Wi Mu-hyeok?!"
It was a challenge for a vanguard duel. Such duels were common in martial disputes, a way to crush the enemy's morale by pitting the future of the sects—the measure of their true depth—against each other. He had already experienced it once with Yu-hyeon of the Mount Hua Sect.
"Sect Leader, I shall make the request you spoke of now."
"Flash Art."
Guyang Shin turned his head, their eyes meeting.
"By the right I've earned for recovering the legacy of the great senior of the Sword Sect—your late father and the First Elder's husband—I make this request. Allow me to step forward as a guest of the Zhongnan Sect."
"Young Hero Jeong."
Wiji Myo-hwa, who had been watching him with a strange expression, called out to him. A myriad of emotions crossed her face. Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight bow and looked back at Guyang Shin.
I can go instead.
Her unspoken offer was clear, but it was a stage unbefitting her status. She was slightly older than Wi Mu-hyeok, and the reputation she had built was on an entirely different level.
Guyang Shin nodded slowly. If a decisive victory was what they needed, there was no better card among their peers than Jeong Yeon-shin.
"Go."
"Thank you."
After clasping his hands in a polite bow, he stepped forward.
Standing beside the elders of the Zhongnan Sect, Wiji Myo-hwa watched Jeong Yeon-shin's back, her gaze fixed on his retreating figure.
There walked a grandmaster, burning his own life to write his mark upon the world.
"He is already a magnificent youth," the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan sighed, his words drifting away on the wind.
* * *
"The Zhongnan Sect's fortune has truly run dry."
Those were the first words Wi Mu-hyeok spat upon facing Jeong Yeon-shin. He appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen, his features transitioning from boy to young man. From his dazzling sword to his brilliant scarlet uniform, he was clad in luxury. Yeon-shin recalled catching a fleeting glimpse of him at the Jeong Family Manor. He was one of them.
Scanning Jeong Yeon-shin from head to toe, he sneered.
"Ah, I recognize you. You're from the Jeong Family Manor, aren't you? You put on quite a cheeky display back then. I should have killed you then, but I'm glad you've crawled before me now."
"Weren't you the one who couldn't lift a finger back then?"
"You will die in a martial artist's duel to the death. On what grounds could the former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps intervene? It would only ruin his own reputation. If you're relying on the same trick as last time, it is truly a pity."
Perhaps because he was a direct disciple of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect, an arrogant dignity exuded from him. He looked every bit the noble young master.
A disciple of the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect. I can avenge my family and accumulate merit at the same time.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently drew his sword.
His gaze drifted past Wi Mu-hyeok to the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect standing far behind him. That sharply chiseled face was as indifferent as it had been that day.
"Now, die."
Wi Mu-hyeok unleashed a sword strike as he spoke. His complete disregard for his opponent's wandering gaze was typical of an unorthodox martial artist.
Clang! Whoosh!
The exploding shockwave whipped up a gale. The swords clashed and locked, neither moving an inch.
Wi Mu-hyeok's expression turned to one of surprise at the sword force that refused to yield.
"Not bad."
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply. Now that he had mastered a proper sword art, he could see the flow of energy generated by the blade. The same was true for his opponent's sword.
The memory of Cheong-myeong testing him when he first joined the Demonlight Wing suddenly flashed through his mind.
He slowly spoke.
"A Brightfolk I know once said that one can gauge another's talent through the wind of their sword."
"What?"
"Now I see what he meant."
The moment Jeong Yeon-shin smiled, goosebumps broke out over Wi Mu-hyeok's arms.
The Radiant Brilliance Sword Style.
The Desolate Fortress Sword in his hand caught the sunlight. Instantly, a hazy beam of light erupted, pushing back the locked blade.
"What—!"
Jeong Yeon-shin's hand did not stop. Enveloping his entire body in the wind, he stomped his foot and flashed past the boy.
A pure white flash arced diagonally toward his neck. A moment later, Wi Mu-hyeok's head tumbled to the ground.
A dull thud echoed as his body collapsed limply.
Without so much as a glance at the corpse, Yeon-shin sheathed his sword.
"..."
In an instant, silence blanketed the plains.