Chapter 309: Heonwon (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 309: Heonwon (4)
The black bamboo hat worn by the Slaying Hero did not move in the slightest. The wide, long brim remained completely still—a stillness that only served to highlight his inner agitation.
The sight of him crouched quietly in the corner of the bed was a strange one.
Heonwon Chang glanced down at him and smiled faintly.
“I understand. It’s a divine art that would be hard to imagine in some backwater village.”
“...This is the most shocked I've been since our main house was destroyed.”
He sounded both dumbfounded and utterly flabbergasted. The Slaying Hero was a man brimming with confidence, so he made no effort to hide his surprise.
In the brief moment he glanced up at Heonwon Chang’s hand, a complex mix of emotions was laid bare: shock, bewilderment, and a faint trace of envy.
“What on earth was that? There’s no way you could have grasped the structure of that spell’s true qi in such a short time.”
“Haha.”
Heonwon Chang merely laughed, causing the Slaying Hero’s brow to furrow.
“I heard rumors that an auspicious martial art had appeared in the Desolate Fortress. But for you, of all people, to awaken to dharma power or the Three Pure Powers of Taoism? I’d sooner believe you could keep your mouth shut for seven days and nights. No, that’s like a chatterbox taking a vow of silence. It’s simply unbelievable.”
“Such harsh words.”
“The martial art you learned must be extraordinary. You’ve benefited immensely from entering the Desolate Fortress. Meanwhile, as you said, this older brother of yours is just the young lord of a rural sect who has never even set foot in the Jianghu.”
“Well, you’re absolutely right that the martial art is extraordinary. Of course it is.”
Heonwon Chang’s lips curled into a smirk as he changed the subject.
“More importantly, didn’t you gather the scattered branch families to form a respectable sect? The Geum Family Assassin Sect. I don’t understand why you’re still just the young lord, brother. In terms of achievements alone, you’ve already surpassed my father.”
“There is more than one gatekeeper family for the Tomb of the Heavenly Demon. To be recognized as the sect leader, one must pass the trials of several core branches. Besides, if the location of an assassin sect is known, can it truly be called an assassin sect? The scroll you unrolled contains the safehouses of three branches and the secret codes to summon them.”
“I have no interest in that. What about my restriction?” Heonwon Chang cut him off.
A sly smile played on the lips of the Slaying Hero, whose lower face was the only part visible.
“Seon-hwi. You are the last remaining direct descendant. The sect leader of the assassin sect, the head of the Geum family, has their restrictions released one by one as they gain recognition from the branches. Once you pass the trials of all the branches, you become the sect leader that very day.”
“I am Heonwon Chang of the Demonlight Wing. And surely, you don’t truly wish for that either, brother.”
“Perhaps. But whatever the family elders might say, know that the former family head at least treated you as his son.”
“I’ve never even called him father, so…”
With those words, Heonwon Chang fell silent. He did so while straining to sense his companions, his mind feeling as if it were blurred by a dream. A familiar wave of internal power was approaching the main building.
It was a martial art that instantly pulled his attention away from the family matters he had buried long ago.
* * *
The Vast Art Formula.
It was a divine art. This was true of the martial art itself, regardless of the practitioner. Even if it didn’t contain spirituality, it was still considered a divine ultimate technique, just as the Myriad Blossoms Rain was called a peerless divine art.
[Internal energy is the refinement of natural qi drawn into the body through breathing. Natural qi is the energy that exists outside the practitioner's body without artificial intervention. Energy is a moving force, and the essence of force lies in all actions, including direction. As for action… you surely know what that is.]
This was the introduction to the Vast Art Formula. Its simple terms actually made it more difficult to grasp. While pointing out the absolute basics, it would casually speak of bizarre flows of internal energy as if they were completely natural.
In truth, most members of the Demonlight Wing could not easily master the Vast Art Formula. The repetitive explanations scattered throughout hovered on a fine line between considerate and arrogant.
The members of the Demonlight Wing put in blood, sweat, and tears when their unit commander wasn't watching. Even then, mastery was only possible because there wasn't a single person among them who wasn't a genius.
The experts of the Desolate Fortress were naturally diligent, but as they learned the Vast Art Formula, their morning form practice became an indispensable part of their routine. It was a stroke of immense luck that the martial art linked the Demonlight Formula with the Flash Art lineage.
Outdoors.
A dark morning beneath a towering cliff.
As the slightly fresher air flowed gently, signaling the time of day, the Lazy Flame Dragon, who was casually shaking his hands, chuckled.
In fact, he had mastered the Vast Art Formula more easily than almost anyone else in the Demonlight Wing.
“Our unit commander still doesn’t know, does he? He probably thinks he created a perfect manual that’s even easy to self-study.”
Beneath his long, dangling bangs, the dark circles under his hollow eyes stood out. It was a look no one would mistake for a world-class genius, yet his relaxed demeanor exuded the air of a noble young master.
“Well, it is definitely a divine art… Ha!”
Shin So-bin’s straight punch thrust forward, bursting the air with a sharp bang. It was the Advancing Thunder of the Infinite Flower of Time Fist. Her hair and sleeves fluttered like silk, blending with her powerful wave of energy.
However, the Lazy Flame Dragon merely glanced at her before continuing.
“How devoted. Treating him with the respect of a unit commander while coddling him like he’s the youngest… it gives me whiplash. The Demonlight Wing used to be famous as a pack of fighting ghosts.”
“It's a sense of family a scoundrel like you wouldn't understand,” Shin So-bin retorted.
“Isn’t it strange? This young master is clearly a Blue Rank of the Desolate Fortress, yet why do I feel like I'm still wearing nameless rags? The hierarchy of the Demonlight Wing definitely needs some adjustments.”
“Of course. The same goes for Senior Hwangbo’s attitude toward our unit commander.”
“There must be some secret verbal art exclusive to the Demonlight Wing. I bet I'm the only one who doesn't know about it. Right, Won-chang?”
“It’s Heonwon-ssi.”
Heonwon Chang walked out of the dark pavilion.
Rustle.
His light footfalls, characteristic of an assassin, cut through the dawn air.
This was after news of the Jegal Clan Leader’s death had thrown all of Shanxi into a frenzy.
It was time to take the first trial according to the map on the scroll—to become Jeong Yeon-shin’s shield as members of the Demonlight Wing.
The Slaying Hero, Heonwon Chang, the Lazy Flame Dragon, and Shin So-bin.
They moved as one.
* * *
Shanxi was also known by the abbreviation Jin, as it was the land of the ancient state of Jin. Taiyuan, the capital of Shanxi Province and once the capital of Jin, was a large city with a deep history as the birthplace of civilization and martial arts that arose from the Yellow River.
The land itself was vast. All kinds of mysteries, martial lineages, and the hidden truths of unrecorded history breathed and lived here. In this city inhabited by tens of thousands, countless groups moved busily in both the light and the shadows.
Thus, the sight of dozens of birds soaring from a distant mountainside failed to attract a single glance.
In a forest overlooking the massive city, a woman in a red robe stood tall on a high tree branch, her ebony hair cascading down her back. Her single red eye gleamed bewitchingly in her pale, almost white face. Her gaze was fixed on an elegant, old-fashioned inn below.
The Seventh Apostle parted her lips.
“Those things over there… may I kill them?”
“You still cling to that creepy way of speaking. Why are you asking me?” a figure standing on a floating sword in a corner of the thicket replied. It was Baek Seo-gun, the half-white-haired Sword Saint who carried herself with a high-handed aura.
She had a disgusted expression on her face and didn’t even spare the Seventh Apostle a glance. She simply stared silently at the inn beyond the city wall, several hundred Zhang away.
The Seventh Apostle’s lips curved into a smooth arc.
“Because you deserve respect.”
That was all. She said no more. Leaves that were just beginning to show hints of green shimmered beneath their feet.
Baek Seo-gun didn’t bother to ask further or try to understand. The Heterodox Path was a world of madmen. The martial artists who belonged to it were all insane, each obsessed with their own values. Among them, the Jeok clan of the True Blood Physique was known among the very peak of the Jianghu as monsters who had gone mad in their pursuit of the pinnacle of martial arts.
No one had been surprised when that girl rose to the rank of Apostle. She was simply a different breed.
Swoosh—
As a cold wind swept through the thicket, Baek Seo-gun quietly watched the entrance of the distant inn.
‘She called him Grand Preceptor.’
If she were hostile to Jeong Yeon-shin, Baek Seo-gun would have struck her down instantly. But if the girl’s mad obsession was directed toward the Flash Art’s martial talent, she would make an excellent guard. Baek Seo-gun, whose own position was ambiguous, had long decided not to interfere with the Flash Art’s protectors. The Sword Saint of Henan Province would soon have to return to the Deep Martial Alliance anyway.
“Why aren't you leaving?” the Seventh Apostle asked.
“What?”
“Some insignificant things followed my precious Grand Preceptor inside.”
“It would not look good if the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress were seen with me. But why are you here? Tailing the Flash Art like a common thief.”
“The Grand Preceptor dislikes me.”
Her voice was a mumble. The end of her nonchalant words trembled slightly, as if about to break. She didn’t look discouraged; rather, she seemed like a child learning martial arts for the first time, reciting mnemonics in front of adults. She found her own state unfamiliar, even frightening.
Seeing the back of her pitiful, small head, Baek Seo-gun was inwardly dumbfounded but didn’t let it show. Who could possibly understand a Blood Ghost who had been madly obsessed with martial arts since birth?
The two of them stood still like that for a while.
Until suddenly, a massive shadow loomed behind them.
Whoosh!
The sunlight vanished from the forest. There was no warning, no wave of energy. It descended like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.
An even more absolute figure because he had completely concealed his colossal presence—the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance, known as the Monarch Martial Emperor, had finally manifested to find his sole right hand. His presence was chillingly imperceptible.
“An unexpected companionship. What is the reason?”
Just before that voice, which sounded as if it were scraped from the depths of the earth, rang out, Jeong Yeon-shin had been practicing Sword Control against a group inside the inn they had been watching. To navigate the harsh Jianghu with an impaired body, he needed a technique of an entirely different caliber.
* * *
Three people landed on a wall covered with old roof tiles.
It was a compound where a massive main building, an annex, an outhouse, and a small well surrounded a courtyard crisscrossed with paths. Since a major event had just occurred, the area was sparsely populated. This was the site that had endured the fierce battle between the Jegal Clan Leader and the Lotus Nezha. It was said that the energy of super-ascension experts could influence nature itself.
The Gongya Clan.
The atmosphere was desolate. Not even the crickets chirped. Even though the midday sun shone brightly, a bleakness hung in the air that perfectly matched the ruins before them.
Among the three people looking down at the scene, the martial artist standing in the center spoke. He was a middle-aged swordsman clad in pitch-black martial robes.
“They say the Great Tongue Sword of the Demonlight Wing follows the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. Barring exceptional circumstances, he would have shown himself here as well. Find him.”
“Leader, it seems the martial prowess of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, the Flash Art, has exceeded our expectations. I worry he might become a significant variable.”
“…Indeed, the reports about the Jegal Clan Leader are proving to be true. However, the Commander’s martial prowess was also confirmed during the Sect Founding Ceremony. Even if he achieved an unbelievable advancement, there is no way he could have faced the Reincarnated Crouching Dragon, Jegal Cheon-sang, and emerged unscathed. His internal and external injuries must be severe.”
“Understood. We shall obey your command.”
There was an elegance in their bearing. Even in the way the two martial artists on either side shifted their feet to leap off the ground, the grace of a prestigious family was evident.
Just as the energy of their profound Body Protection Scripture flared, creating long creases in the hems of their trousers, a voice cut through the silence.
“I came because I sensed the vulgar energy of the Moyong clan, and look what we have here.”
The voice sounded as if it were exhaling boiling power. It held a raw, unrefined quality, far removed from concepts like concealment or subtlety.
“What…!”
Unable to hide their shock at the sudden presence, the three spun around.
They found themselves facing a man.
For a moment, they felt a violent sensation, as if a branding iron had been pressed to their retinas. The man’s figure seemed to force itself into their vision. Though he clearly had no such intention, that was the effect he had.
“Who might you be, master…” the middle-aged swordsman trailed off as he took in the intruder.
His pitch-black hair was cut short and fell roughly about his face. His facial features were sharp and bold. His suffocatingly solid body, which looked as if it were plated in iron armor, was fully visible, and an aura reminiscent of a massive fortress flowed from his entire being.
A level of transcendence that was difficult to measure with mere internal energy radiated from him, raw and unfiltered.
“This old man is ignorant of the ways of the world,” he said, his youthful face a stark contrast to his words. “Keep babbling. But only about the Flash Art.”
Thud.
Above his rough-textured leather shoes, the hem of his long robe shimmered with a pinkish hue.