Chapter 311: Heonwon (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 311: Heonwon (6)
The battle against the peerless expert, a man renowned throughout the Jianghu, was over.
The aftereffects were beyond imagination.
But it was a price he had to endure. After all, he had slain an existence he should have been looking up to for a long time to come.
During the fight, every time Jeong Yeon-shin had deflected the Jegal Clan Leader's Male-Female Divine Whip, an impact had seeped deep into his bones. Even the smallest fragment of that force struck with the weight of a thousand pounds. He couldn't even redirect it using the Harmony Realm; there simply hadn't been enough time.
The worst of his injuries was the puncture wound in his shoulder.
A peerless expert’s strike was far more than a simple wound. A single blow didn’t just cause external trauma. The Internal Heavy Hand Technique had flooded his meridians with shockwaves of force, tearing his body apart from the inside.
Without the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, he would have struggled to even move. The experience gave him a new appreciation for Ak Su-rim, who had stood against the Jegal Clan Leader even when his Ak Family Spear was countered.
Even the recovery of his torn muscles was slow.
This, he was told, was an effect of the Male-Female Divine Whip, a Sorcery Divine Art. Senior Jin, the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit, had suffered from it before.
Yeon-shin's fine meridians and acupoints had lost their elasticity, to the point where even the journey to Taiyuan felt arduous.
Meanwhile, his Halo, which had been pushed to its absolute limit, now spun sluggishly—a pale imitation of its speed when he was at peak condition. His Accumulated Qi Amount had plummeted. He needed time to recover.
But he had no choice.
Not with Gun Yurin—who he presumed was the daughter of the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance—and her subordinate right in front of him.
Wuuu.
He focused, channeling the spirituality of his Upper Dantian, attempting to align it with his mind beneath the Baihui Point. As he did, the chopstick trembled and slipped from his fingers.
It was a wondrous mystery. In his mind’s eye, Yeon-shin perceived a long, slender texture.
‘Will this work…?’
The shapes of the wooden chopstick and a sword shimmered, the blade threatening to superimpose itself over the wood. But they never truly merged. His intuition told him that the moment they achieved Unity in his mind, a power surpassing the Myriad Blossoms Rain would be born.
He could guess the reason. The Fan Dragon Lotus Art was a martial art that heavily utilized the Upper Dantian. When he first unleashed it to slay the Jegal Clan Leader, he had severely overworked his Baihui Point. It still hadn't fully recovered.
It was fine.
Wuuu.
A single chopstick floated into the air. It drifted gently toward the fan aimed at its master's brow.
The man pointing the Crane Wing Fan at Yeon-shin reacted half a breath too late.
While Gun Yurin’s eyes widened beside him, the man’s gaze remained locked on Yeon-shin, as if demanding an explanation. Only then, a beat too late, did he flinch.
"What kind of heretical sorcery is—!"
"You sound like some Orthodox old fogey! It's nothing like that, you idiot!"
Even in this urgent situation, the exchange between master and servant felt like a comedy routine.
Yeon-shin's eyes narrowed. The power infused into the chopstick was woefully insufficient. It was weaker even than the Release Formula of the Myriad Blossoms Rain at his peak. This was the proof of his battle’s aftereffects.
Should he force himself into the fist technique stance inspired by the Duke of Eminent Fists, Eon Hwa-ryeon? It would be a gruesome sight for the young waiter.
It was then.
Perhaps guessing something from Yeon-shin's expression, Gun Yurin suddenly frowned.
"Wait a moment!"
The moment her hands reached behind her back, a massive gray light fell from her grasp—the afterimage of a great saber's blade. Her draw was blindingly fast, the blade descending in a rough, jagged arc that flickered like a faded crescent moon.
Slaaash!
"Aaaaargh!"
Blood sprayed into the air. Her subordinate's arm had been severed, the Crane Wing Fan still clutched in its hand. The white fan, instantly dyed crimson, fell to the floor with a thud. It was a sudden, shocking spectacle.
Whoosh!
Gun Yurin, who had stood up as she drew her blade, shook the great saber once with a bitter expression. Droplets of blood splattered across the wooden floor, the dark red pattern gruesome to behold.
The face of the subordinate groaning beside her was also a sight. For a brief moment, confusion flashed across his face before being replaced by dawning realization. His eyes instantly regained their focus, and he choked back his groans.
All of this happened in less than three breaths. The silence in the tavern grew even heavier.
"If you lack the eye to judge people," Gun Yurin said, scratching the back of her head, "you naturally deserve to die… but since he didn't actually strike, let's call it even with just an arm."
"He couldn't have anyway."
"Well, I have nothing to say to that. But isn't it more miserable for him to lose his primary martial arts to the master he served so well? It's not like his arm was cut off fighting an enemy. How humiliating must that be? Besides, we're from the Unorthodox Factions. This guy won't be able to make a living now unless he works as my exclusive servant. You know how those rotten Heterodox Sects care about saving face even more than the Orthodox Factions, right?"
Her somewhat submissive words poured out like rapid-fire from a marksman.
Thud, thud.
She repeatedly kicked the man's shins.
Was she trying to save her subordinate's life at all costs? The way she kept stealing glances at Yeon-shin made her seem far more human than the Jegal Clan Leader.
The subordinate's brow twitched, as if her every word was a death sentence. He quickly schooled his features and prostrated himself. His shoulders, nearly touching the floor, trembled with spasms as a massive amount of blood seeped between the floorboards.
Yet, his demeanor remained remarkably composed.
"This Jeon Baek failed to recognize a master! I dare to beg you, with your benevolent and invincible character, please forgive my capital offense!"
He looked incredibly pitiful. His overbearing attitude had completely vanished.
Yeon-shin did not answer immediately.
'Gun Yurin… Is she truly the child of the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance?'
They were bizarre. It felt as though he was witnessing the true face of the Heterodox Sects. If her lineage was true, she was a rare heavyweight in the Jianghu, yet her judgment was as sharp and swift as a blade. She even showed glimpses of a monarch's qualities, fit to navigate a chaotic world.
He spoke curtly.
"Get lost."
"Well now, what a fine, upstanding friend you are. Your mercy knows no bounds."
Gun Yurin flicked her finger.
Thump—
In an instant, a finger force shot out, distorting the air in a long line and striking the shoulder of the man named Jeon Baek. As the dull thud sounded, the gushing blood abruptly stopped. A technique to staunch the bleeding.
Glancing at her staggering subordinate, Gun Yurin sat back down across from Yeon-shin. She rested both elbows on the table and clasped her hands, the sound of her rough sleeves brushing against the wood breaking the silence.
"Our nameless friend here truly has the bearing of a great hero. I saw the waiter bow and run away at just your glance. You treat people as people. Since such humility is ingrained in you, it's only natural that you remain nonchalant even after mastering Sword Control. You aren't arrogant; you're just meticulous enough to care for those around you."
'Is it an eye technique?'
Her words were so accurate that Yeon-shin was inwardly surprised.
"The eyes of this Phoenix-Slaying Red Blade are never wrong. That's why I have a proposal to make… very carefully."
Whoosh.
As Gun Yurin spoke in a whisper, a hemispherical wave of internal power spread from her body. She had erected an Energy Barrier around the table.
Soon after, as the chopstick that had been floating in the air returned to Yeon-shin's hand, she watched with admiring eyes and spoke again.
"There's no way someone like you hasn't made a name for himself. You've come a long way from home, haven't you?"
"Your insight is impressive."
Yeon-shin replied nonchalantly, though he had been inwardly impressed ever since he heard her analysis of his character. He was a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress. He could not simply ignore a direct descendant of the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance.
He had to do one of two things: either capture Gun Yurin and extract information, even if it meant ignoring the injuries that still wracked his body, or continue to hide his identity and investigate the orthodox martial arts of the Deep Martial Alliance.
"I told you, my eyes are never wrong."
Grinning at his compliment, Gun Yurin raised her chin slightly. She looked nothing like the person who had just severed her subordinate's arm. Her demeanor was refined enough to hint at her high-born origins. As the bearer of the moniker 'Phoenix-Slaying Red Blade,' she was indeed a direct descendant of the Thirteen Heavens of the Wicked Way.
"A powerful expert with no ties to Taiyuan. I need someone like you. Of course, don't worry. I won't propose a shady deal to a noble person who would put those Orthodox old fogeys to shame."
"I like your way of speaking. Spill it," Yeon-shin said calmly.
He had grown disillusioned with the Orthodox Factions because of the noble families. If he hadn't met the Taoist disciples of the Nine Sects, the Martial World Alliance Leader Hyeon So-baek, the Azure Qilin, and Seon-ryong, he would have utterly dismissed the very concept of the Orthodox Factions.
"Look at that attitude. No need to be shy."
The smile on the lips of the Phoenix-Slaying Red Blade, Gun Yurin, deepened.
"Anyway, I don't care why you came to Taiyuan. Whether you're here to travel the Jianghu or on a journey of martial duels. What matters is that you're someone with nothing to lose here. Because I'm about to strike the Killing Gate."
"What?"
"My damn father said he'd be arriving soon. To win the succession battle, I have to make a good impression on our esteemed father. The Killing Gate, which allied with the Moyong Clan, would make an excellent offering. If I had my way, I'd take my father's head just as he did to my grandfather… but with my current skills, that's impossible. I still have a long way to go."
A wild madness seeped from her muttering voice.
It was a different world. It was said that right after the former Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance was slaughtered by the Sword Saint, a power struggle had erupted within the Alliance. Among the stories from that time, the tale of the current Leader, the Monarch Martial Emperor, snapping his own father's neck was incredibly famous.
"Whether you want to improve your martial arts or raise your fame, the Killing Gate would be a decent opponent. Right now, Shanxi's martial clans have been wiped out because monsters like the Jegal Clan Leader and the Lotus Nezha swept through. Hmm? Come to think of it, they say the Desolate Fortress's Lotus Nezha is young, like you. Though there were no rumors of him practicing Sword Control…"
"I am aware. More importantly, I heard the Slaying Hero is a righteous man."
"He's the only one. The rest are all typical members of the Heterodox Sects. He's probably clashing with the elders, using his position as the Young Sect Leader. Well, that Slaying Hero is quite a character, though."
"You know a lot."
"My sect is no small power. I don't know what kind of connection they have, but the Imperial Family even exempts them from tribute. The sect I'm currently in charge of is just a single branch. A significant force will be deployed to annihilate the Killing Gate. They've already made their move."
The two, both hiding their identities, continued their conversation. Since the other patrons had fled the tavern in terror at the sight of the severed arm twitching on the floor, only Gun Yurin, her servant, and Yeon-shin remained on the second floor.
The dust motes drifting through the white sunlight were still.
"If you cooperate, I'll reward you handsomely! Gold, silver, treasures—whatever you want, just say the word. I even know a peerless beauty who wields the saber exquisitely. Though she's a fruit far out of reach… she's my master."
"Can you provide spirit medicine? Something potent for healing."
"Of course I can prepare that!"
She didn't say she had it on her now. She was likely afraid of being robbed. Despite her bizarre way of thinking, she was clever. She even possessed the boldness to share a confidential plan with a master she had just met.
Their personalities meshed quite well. It was enough to put Yeon-shin at ease. Both her rough demeanor and her sharp insight contributed to this.
Gun Yurin curled her lips upward.
"It's because you're severely injured, right? You smell of a different kind of blood than our Jeon Baek."
Had she smelled the blood from his puncture wound? The scar on Yeon-shin's shoulder still tore open from time to time. Just moments ago, the mere thought of using a fist technique had caused his deltoid to tense, reopening the wound. Sometimes, even his own reflexes were a liability.
Yeon-shin changed the subject.
"Do you know the way? To the Killing Gate."
The White Swallow in his breast pocket had guided him with its long wingbeats, but upon arrival, he couldn't sense the Lazy Flame Dragon's energy. Similarly, he couldn't find the internal power waves of the Heonwon Spear and Shin So-bin.
'I shouldn't have let them know about my condition.'
He had written about his injuries with his usual candor, just as he would to Cheong-myeong or Baek Mi-ryeo, not hiding a thing. It seemed his subordinates, who should have been worrying about their own bodies, were concerned for their Unit Commander's safety instead. He supposed he was fortunate that the Lazy Flame Dragon was with them.
However, the Deep Martial Alliance was targeting the Killing Gate. He couldn't afford to let his guard down.
"I only know the approximate locations of the safe houses suspected to be their branches. A guy who was unlucky enough to get caught in my sect’s Net of Heaven and Earth spilled the beans. We'll find out everything as we clear them out one by one. We'll sweep through the branches first and push all the way to the main sect."
Gun Yurin spoke with a fierce smile, sheathing her great saber on her back with a thud.
Yeon-shin slowly opened his mouth, not sparing a single glance for her subordinate, who stood there swallowing his pain alone.
"I accept your proposal."
* * *
It was the second day of walking through the softly crunching snow.
Step, step.
The footprints of three people marked a path on the side of the main road.
A large bonfire flickered as if it were dancing. The white snow swallowed the sparks that popped from the flames.
Gun Yurin was a skilled hunter. She caught all kinds of wild beasts, rendering the beef jerky in his robes useless. It got to the point where Yeon-shin only needed to gather firewood.
"That white sword of yours caught my eye from the very beginning. Have you only trained in sword arts?"
"I use my fists and kicks as well."
"A master who has entered Sword Control also uses hand-to-hand combat?"
"Only the basics. The forms aren't complicated."
"Such astounding humility. Your character really doesn't suit the Heterodox Sects. You're more like someone from the Orthodox Factions, or somewhere in between. You walk the righteous path, don't you?"
"You have a keen eye."
Yeon-shin replied to Gun Yurin's words while leaning casually against a tree trunk.
They say encounters in the Jianghu touch and drift apart like the wind. Although he had intended not to get closer than necessary, they had shared quite a few conversations.
Jeon Baek, holding his fan in his left hand, constantly watched Yeon-shin's reactions and behaved like a servant.
"Master, it seems we're a bit short on firewood… Of course, you must have reached the supreme realm of Immunity to Heat and Cold, but wouldn't a cold wind on your noble skin be rather unpleasant?"
"Do as you please."
"Right away, sir!"
Just as the handsome, scholar-like, one-armed man turned around.
Boom—!
His body suddenly bent sideways and was violently blown back.
In that instant, a shockwave of force struck the translucent air, shattering like flower petals. It was accompanied by the clear shout of a young boy.
"The Spirit Beast of Shaolin is indeed the best under heaven! Monk, this way!"
"Amitabha."
Mount Hua and Mount Song.
Destiny and coincidence intertwined. The scent of rugged mountains had found them.