Chapter 308: Heonwon (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 308: Heonwon (3)
A monstrous roar echoed like rolling thunder, and a massive tremor violently shook the earth.
An explosive force raced across the vast plains, so powerful that the fleeing martial artists of the Gongya Clan forgot their duties and spun around to look. They had just been tasked by the Assistant Military Commander with luring the local aristocrats.
“Young Mistress, over there…!”
“I see it!”
Whoosh!
The seven Gongya martial artists skidded to a halt, the wind from their lightness skills kicking up dust from beneath their feet.
Yet, the cloud they raised was pitifully small compared to the colossal dust storm rising before them.
“The auras of the local aristocrats… they’ve all vanished…”
“…Annihilated.”
Shocked murmurs rippled through the group. The eyes of the Grand Lady, Gongya Jeong, and her retainers widened in disbelief. They had been unable to shake their anxiety even while luring the powerful aristocrats away. After all, any martial artist who had witnessed the death of the Jegal Clan Leader could easily guess the dire state of the Desolate Fortress’s Black Ranks.
“Verify that their tributes have been paid properly… and prepare relief grain to distribute to the commoners. This time, no one in the clan will be able to oppose my words. No one.” Gongya Jeong murmured to herself.
It was a proposal that had faced repeated opposition in the past.
The Gongya Clan did not engage in lowly acts like plunder, but they were not a clan that took pity on the common people either. Their benevolence extended only as far as hosting the martial arts tournament themselves, preventing the exploitation that would occur if other aristocrats hosted it and drained the people’s resources. They had not opened their granaries during the prolonged famine, knowing a day would come when food would be more precious than gold.
But now, no one dared to question her command.
The Gongya Clan’s leadership fell silent. Seeing the Commander of the Demonlight Wing walking out of the dust at that very moment, they had no choice but to comply.
Step.
Translucent threads of energy faded from his lowered hands, briefly wrapping the swirling dust around him like skeins of silk. The sight was reminiscent of Yama, the King of Hell.
Even the blood dripping from beneath his sleeves carried a menacing weight. It seemed the wounds inflicted by the Jegal Clan Leader had burst open from the backlash of his secret technique.
Whoosh…
As a dry wind swept the dust away, the scene behind him slowly came into view.
Over his shoulder, a massive, deeply gouged crater gaped like a slice of hell itself. He had dragged the masters behind the region’s exploitation straight to the underworld, not even giving those who had ruled Shanxi for so long a moment to utter their last words.
Steam rose from various parts of the crater, a desolate and eerie sight.
“They said he was the incarnation of Prince Nezha, the prince who descended upon a lotus…” one of the Gongya Clan elders muttered in a low, trembling voice.
Just then, Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been approaching with measured, elegant steps, suddenly staggered.
“Sect Leader Jeong!”
Startled, Gongya Jeong leaped forward. Terrified by their acting clan leader’s sudden movement, the Gongya leadership threw themselves forward to follow. As powerful aristocrats themselves, they quickly arrived at the battlefield where the clash had ended in an instant.
By then, Jeong Yeon-shin had glanced at them and straightened his back, recalling the bearing of his senior, Jin Myeong-jo. If he maintained the noble, lofty dignity of the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon under any circumstance, his enemies wouldn’t dare act rashly, even after temporary secret techniques like Ultimate Lightning and the Fan Dragon Lotus Art had run their course.
‘The cervical spine should curve slightly back, not in a straight line. Apply strength to the iliopsoas muscles on both sides of the waist.’
Bluffing was a skill in its own right. He must never let anyone look down on him.
Slowly.
Ignoring the lightning-like pain flashing through his body, he composed his posture. The internal and external injuries inflicted by the Jegal Clan Leader couldn't be healed with just a day or two of rest.
Seeing the leaders of the Gongya Clan flinch in the distance, it seemed his bluff had worked.
While feeling a sense of satisfaction, Jeong Yeon-shin also felt the need for a shield. He craved people more than he craved protective Qi, perhaps because his body was so exhausted. The path he had to walk was treacherous. In the vast Jianghu, many banded together.
After barely defeating a peerless master, he would have to bear the wrath of those who had lost their leader. He had been exceptionally lucky when dealing with the Jegal Clan Leader. The world wasn't made up of people who would gracefully accept the outcome of a one-on-one duel.
That was precisely why martial artists formed sects.
The ‘gate’ of a household, the ‘branch’ of a lineage. They were people who cultivated the same spirit and shared martial arts more precious than blood. They were no different from family.
Just like the retainers standing behind Gongya Jeong as she approached, and just like the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress.
“Are you alright? We must return to the main estate immediately for treatment…”
“Young Mistress, I am sorry,” Jeong Yeon-shin said. “For using your clan for my mission.”
For a moment, Gongya Jeong’s red collar twitched. There was a strange weight to the words of the Lotus Nezha, the Flash Art. His voice, carrying the clear intention of leaving, shifted the atmosphere. Had this been his plan all along? It felt as though they were seeing off a departing guest.
She spoke slowly. “In the end, only the Wolseong Sect left behind by the Jegal Clan Leader and our Gongya Clan remain in Shanxi. The humiliation we suffered from the other aristocrats is nothing. As long as the Wolseong Sect remains unable to move, this land will be peaceful for a time. Provided the people do not starve…”
“The burden on you must be heavy, Young Mistress. I hope your father, the Clan Leader, recovers quickly.”
It was just as Jeong Yeon-shin said.
The Grand Lady, Gongya Jeong, would have to shoulder the Jianghu of Shanxi all by herself. A martial world stripped of its aristocrats could not possibly remain peaceful. Bandits of the Green Forest, unorthodox martial artists of the heterodox sects, and lawless vagabonds would surely target the power vacuum.
Although the Lazy Flame Dragon’s group had gone with the Slaying Hero to strike the headquarters of the Wolseong Sect, this was still no ordinary matter. Shanxi was vast—too heavy a burden for a mere rising star to bear. It was an issue that would inevitably draw the attention of countless gossips and busybodies across the Jianghu.
“…Hmph.”
There was no change in Gongya Jeong’s expression. Her slender, dark eyebrows and taciturn lips remained perfectly still.
“My father was actually pleased. He called it a lesson in succession, an opportunity for me to stand on my own. He is correct.”
“…A stone,” Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly muttered. He looked at the Young Mistress of the Gongya Clan with a hint of dread, or perhaps wariness.
A person who lived with the steadfastness of a boulder. She was truly worthy of being called the incarnation of Clear Mirror, Still Water. Seeing her as an unyielding stone that could not be chipped away stirred a creeping sense of inferiority within him once again. It had been that way ever since she had spoken of ten years of training in response to a sword strike that took him but a single breath.
What an overwhelmingly relaxed composure. He hadn’t even felt such a thing from the Jegal Clan Leader.
‘Life…'
Jeong Yeon-shin felt the unfairness of life deep in his bones. He suddenly wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible.
“Pardon?”
“It is nothing.” Shaking his head at her question, he continued in his usual, nonchalant tone, “You have a good father.”
The corners of Gongya Jeong’s lips curled up slightly.
“Su-a wishes to enter the Desolate Fortress. If he takes the Desolate Fortress Entrance Exam one day, would you accept him into the Demonlight Wing?”
She was referring to the cheerful second young master of the Gongya Clan. Recalling Gongya Su, Jeong Yeon-shin nodded. Although the Black Ranks occasionally held duels over new recruits, he no longer had much to fear from anyone other than the Three Black Strengths. Unless it was Senior Jin, the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit whose aura couldn't even be read, he could claim almost any recruit he wanted.
“I must go now,” Jeong Yeon-shin said abruptly.
He had just left a letter with a servant of the Gongya Clan before coming out—a brief farewell to his seniors. Ak Su-rim and Jin Myeong-jo, for whom even moving would be painful, ought to return to the main fortress to recuperate. If he explained the situation, his seniors, with their broad minds and warm hearts, would gladly accompany him, but Jeong Yeon-shin did not want that.
The Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress and the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon had to look after the Divine Sword Squad and the Bloodkeeper Unit. They were their parental figures.
‘Those two must not be injured any further. Nor should they face any unforeseen mishaps.’
The Jegal Clan Leader was dead. The Unit Commanders' mission was over.
From here on, it was the business of the Demonlight Wing. He had already guessed that the Midday Moon Great Slaughter Gate and Heonwon Chang were entangled in some way. He also knew that the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress hailed from Shanxi.
Heonwon Chang’s grudge was the Demonlight Wing’s grudge, so it was only right for the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing to look into it. This held true even for a Blue Rank of the Desolate Fortress, who had the authority to undertake solo missions.
Rustle.
The rustle of their robes overlapped as Jeong Yeon-shin turned on his heel and Gongya Jeong belatedly raised her hands in a cupped fist salute.
“May victory be with you.”
“To you as well, Young Mistress Gongya.”
The Lotus Nezha, the Flash Art, turned completely and took his first step. At that moment, a fluttering sound came from his chest, and a tiny, snow-white swallow soared high into the air.
The White Swallow. A spirit beast used by the Unit Commanders of the Desolate Fortress.
Screeech!
Spreading its wings against the backdrop of the pale blue sky, the bird sliced across the horizon. It flew freely, tracing the endless boundary of the wilderness, its wings beating relentlessly as if it already knew its master’s destination.
Beneath it, the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing walked on, leaving his footprints one by one on the clay-colored earth.
Whoosh…
A dry wind blew gently. The late winter breeze was as transparent as a sheet of ice.
The aristocrats of the Gongya Clan watched the retreating back of the boy—who had arrived a stranger and conquered the martial world of Shanxi—in silence for a long time.
* * *
“Look at that massive crater. A truly magnificent sight. One could call it the pinnacle of government-martial cooperation. Who would have thought a barrage of Thunderbolt Bombs could look so beautiful?”
“……”
“I chose the right side. Wouldn't you agree?”
“The Assistant Military Commander’s foresight has never missed the mark.”
“Haha, you flatterer…”
“It is the absolute truth.”
“He completely bypassed the profound principles of the Harmony Realm unleashed by the aristocrat leaders. To think those fire bombs exploded only after reaching their exact targets… That technique would work even on the harsh northern border. It is a skill that simply cannot fail. Tell me, Officer Do.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let us head to Beijing. I must prepare a memorial to the throne.”
* * *
His back was pressed against something hard.
“……”
Geum Seon-hwi opened his eyes.
A dark space came into view. He was under the bed.
Driven by instinct, he had unconsciously crawled down here while sleeping, his senses always alert for the sudden thrust of a blade. The familiar air brushed coldly against his skin. Murderous intent, the scent of cold iron, the fragrance of withered wood…
Slowly.
Before he knew it, he was standing upright. Like a ghost, his body had moved on its own the moment his consciousness awakened, following the evasion techniques engraved into his very being during his childhood. He had needed them to dodge the cursed River-Severing Sword Style of the Moyong Clan and the terrifying sorcery blades of Taemo Mountain Fortress. It had been a dreadfully long pursuit.
…Wait, the Eight Families and the Thirteen Heavens? What year was it?
‘Ah.’
He repeated his own name in his mind. Heonwon Chang, the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress, the Great Tongue Sword of the Demonlight Wing…
Geum Seon-hwi, the promising star of the Killing Gate, was no more. The youngest son, whom the Lord of the Killing Gate had fathered late in life, was dead. He had discarded the surname Geum while escaping by a stroke of heaven’s luck from two great sects targeting the Heavenly Demon’s legacy. His family had abandoned him first.
Heonwon Chang’s lips stiffened slightly.
“Is this a sorcery formation? My mind is so hazy, it feels like I’ve smoked dozens of opium pipes.”
“If your memories are sorcery, then I suppose it is.”
A clear, resonant voice rang out. Before he knew it, a man wearing a black bamboo hat was crouching at the corner of the bed, looking up at him. His free-spirited, easygoing posture perfectly suited his aura.
Heonwon Chang was not surprised by the bizarre intrusion. Regardless of their martial arts, the Geum Clan had always been like this. This pavilion, too, was situated beneath a cliff, looking exactly like the ruins of his destroyed ancestral home.
“Is it morning?”
“As if you don't know.” The Slaying Hero, Geum Jon-hwi, chuckled. “You really are a genius. I didn't expect the scent of the killing arts to still cling to your body like this.”
“Cut the nonsense.”
“How deeply regrettable. Where did little Seon-a go, the one who used to cutely recite Du Fu’s poetry to comfort his foolish older brother? To think a child of the direct line would soothe the sorrows of his collateral brother.”
“Even so, I was treated like a bastard because of my mother’s status. Geum Seon-hwi is no more, and you, Brother, have become the Young Lord of the Killing Gate as you always wished. We’ve destroyed the Wolseong Sect, so haven’t we both achieved our goals? Let’s go our separate ways.”
“Your words are a bit different from last night. Are you saying you have no regrets about leaving your restriction sealed?”
“……”
“I took a look at your superior’s face. His life thread isn’t very long… unfortunately. I thought perhaps you, as his subordinate, ought to become a bit stronger.”
Heonwon Chang’s lips pressed into a tight line.
“When has your physiognomy ever been right, Brother? All you ever did was look at an assassination target, say, ‘That fellow's life thread is terribly short,’ and start slashing. It was a blessing they were all scum.”
“Now you sound like my brother.” The Slaying Hero, Geum Jon-hwi, laughed heartily. Nodding his head to a silent rhythm, he pulled something from his breast.
It was a short green scroll.
“This is the clue to breaking your seal and the document containing our sect’s long-cherished wish. I had quite a hard time wresting it from those stubborn elders. None of them are even of the direct line, yet they detest your half-blood lineage so much. Ridiculous old men.”
“……”
“However, this is sealed with sorcery… and the mnemonic that serves as the key was lost. On that day, during the chaos at the Tomb of the Heavenly Demon. Both of us were too busy running for our lives.”
“…Indeed.”
“There are rumors that a martial arts army of a thousand from the Deep Martial Alliance is targeting this place. The Moyong Clan’s movements are also suspicious. And those bizarre bastards from Taemo Mountain Fortress are reportedly buying up massive amounts of Sophora Paper. They claim there’s still more to extract from the tomb of some nameless Heavenly Demon.”
Sophora Paper was paper made from the pagoda tree, used as a material for talismans. It was also the primary weapon of Taemo Mountain Fortress, one of the Thirteen Heavens, which specialized in sorcery-based martial arts.
“Something is brewing, and I feel our sect’s strength is far too lacking. If we can fulfill our long-cherished wish and significantly boost your martial arts at the same time, wouldn't that be killing two birds with one stone?”
“I am not a member of the Killing Gate.”
“Not yet, at least. Well, you can do whatever your heart desires anyway.”
Tap, tap.
The Slaying Hero tossed the scroll into the air and caught it with one hand as he replied. His voice carried a strange confidence, a trait that was always woven into his very aura.
After staring at him for a moment, Heonwon Chang reached his hand forward. “Let me see it.”
“Go ahead. Though it won't do much good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you, it’s sealed with sorcery. You can’t unroll it. It’s bound as tightly as a wooden club,” the Slaying Hero said nonchalantly. “Actually, this is also your first test. The elders of the council, worried my legitimacy might be compromised by the energies of the spirit medicines the former clan leader forced into you before our clan’s destruction, do not want your seal broken. So I persuaded them. Since we haven’t been able to touch our sect’s long-cherished wish all this time, if you wander around with me and somehow manage to unravel this…”
Slap.
Handing the scroll to Heonwon Chang, he continued, “Wouldn't that also be destiny? Keep it safe and get ready to head out. Our friends from the Hwangbo Clan and the Desolate Shin Clan are already awake. Looked like they didn't get any sleep.”
It was at that moment.
Suddenly, a faint, whitish current drifted like mist from Heonwon Chang’s hand.
Slide…
The scroll unraveled like a spool of thread. It was the influence of the shockwaves of the Vast Art Formula, which carried an extremely faint trace of Dharma Power.
The Slaying Hero’s jawline, visible beneath his black bamboo hat, stiffened. The aura that had dominated the room faltered, giving way to a heavy silence.
Heonwon Chang’s chin lifted slightly.
“Mmh. They say a divine ultimate technique knows no boundary between sorcery and martial arts,” he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with pride.