Chapter 316: Heonwon (11)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 316: Heonwon (11)
The eyes of the man perched on the rock met Jeong Yeon-shin's.
Zing.
A resonant hum echoed in his mind.
It felt as if they had crossed swords in that single instant—a silent communion between supreme masters.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt an incredibly powerful wave of energy wash over him.
It feels as if he has melted a sword directly into his internal energy. He is an absolute master of the Way of the Sword.
This was no ordinary wave of internal power. Beneath the fathomless depths of the man's internal energy, the mental image of an exceptionally sharp, finely honed blade pierced through. The sheer temperament of a sword technique, refined over a lifetime of blood and sweat, was perfectly imbued within his qi.
He appeared to be in his forties, yet his strength was monstrous for his age. In the vast Jianghu, a martial artist in their forties was usually considered a mere mid-level figure.
"You... are indeed the one I thought you were," the man spoke slowly. "A realm where one harbors a sword in their heart. Your blade is so sharp it is impossible to ignore."
"Your wave of energy is also quite well-polished," Jeong Yeon-shin replied, returning the compliment with his habitual humility.
At that moment, Jeon Baek, who had frozen at the far edge of the clearing, gasped. Did they know each other? He reacted as if he had just witnessed an unimaginable act of disrespect.
The white-clad swordsman didn't even spare Jeon Baek a glance.
He merely raised an eyebrow slightly at Jeong Yeon-shin.
"Arrogant punk. But you have the right to be. I didn't think the rumors would be true... It would be disastrous if the treasure of the Killing Gate fell into your hands."
He had seen through Jeong Yeon-shin's physical condition in an instant.
Immediately after, the words the man muttered under his breath drifted over the rain. If I don't kill him now, it might be difficult to do so later.
Shhhhh.
The sound of rain pelting the ground grew heavier. The sensation of muddy water endlessly splattering against his boots felt unnervingly sharp.
The white-clad swordsman sitting leisurely before him was not someone he could have encountered by mere coincidence.
He exuded the distinct, robust aura of the Deep Martial Alliance. He was likely one of the Three Martial Venerables, whose very names shook the entire Jianghu.
The Jianghu was the size of the continent itself, as vast as several nations stitched together.
The Radiant Blade Venerable, who possessed the fastest and most destructive blade work in the vast Henan region, was said to be a woman.
She was presumed to be Gun Yurin's master. If so, was this man the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable? The legendary master said to have perfected anomalous variations and single-handedly split dozens of galleons belonging to the Yangtze River Waterborne Bandits?
I heard the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable of the Deep Martial Alliance wields dual swords.
Regardless, this was a powerhouse whose mere presence proved that Jeong Yeon-shin had fully integrated into the upper echelons of the Murim.
He had risen to a position worthy of being a traveling companion to Great Monk Wonjeok, one of Shaolin's Four Great Vajras. None of the people he encountered now were ordinary.
Perhaps his upper dantian, which was nearing a state of final radiance, was drawing these powerhouses to him like a fateful force destined to contain divine arts.
If someone so young possesses such deep true qi... they should usually be assumed to come from a prestigious family.
The adult Jeong Yeon-shin recalled his maternal uncle's advice.
Things were different from before he ascended to the rank of Commander of the Demonlight Wing. The lives of his subordinates depended on his judgment. He had to cultivate a sharp eye for reading people.
Rustle.
Suddenly, the rustle of clothing sounded from beside him. The intangible internal energy imbued in the silk fabric was thick and dense.
"I wondered if what I saw was real. Kill my guest? By whose authority?"
It was Gun Yurin's distinct, slightly husky voice.
She stepped up beside Jeong Yeon-shin, her shoulders squared.
With her head held high, she placed her hand on the saber scabbard on her back. Her invisible fighting spirit was magnificent.
"Why are you intervening now? When I almost died at the hands of the Green Forest Leader, you didn't move a single step, did you? I thought I didn't have a shadow guard back then."
They clearly knew each other.
The white-clad swordsman's reaction confirmed it.
"Because I knew you would overcome it on your own, Lady Gun. This matter is different."
His expression made it look as if he were dealing with something utterly trivial. His attitude suggested he found detailed explanations bothersome. Although he used respectful language, there was no actual respect in his tone.
A crease as sharp as a blade etched itself between Gun Yurin's brows.
"What's different? In terms of danger, the Green Forest Leader, Axe Moon Heaven-Breaker, is far more—"
"He is none other than the sword of the Imperial Family. His skill is powerful enough to drive the Reincarnated Crouching Dragon to his death. In the Desolate Fortress, where the hierarchy is strict, he is an ultra-high-ranking figure who has transcended the limits of his age. If you consider our Alliance's position, you should naturally keep your distance. Just how much influence the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing can exert on the Jianghu... is likely difficult for your small head to comprehend, Lady Gun. I understand. Just step back."
His weariness was palpable in his drawn-out explanation.
His tone sounded like a condescending lecture, making him look like an influential sect elder placating a childish superior.
Clang!
Gun Yurin drew her great saber. The afterimage of the blade, tracing a massive arc, vanished as it kicked up a cloud of dust.
The weapon, which was as large as her own body, was held in her hand as easily as a wooden stick.
"You talk too much. Stop trying to deceive me."
Her voice had dropped, sounding like a growling beast.
Her black hair, fluttering behind her alongside a powerful wave of energy, looked like the battle cloak of a young general.
"You're just following my brother's orders, aren't you? Because if a distinguished guest is by my side, it'll be hard to make me die in some foreign land. It would make it difficult to naturally drive me to my death with the blind daggers or poison needles of petty assassins."
The Eldest Son of the Deep Martial Alliance had been mentioned.
Jeong Yeon-shin's fingers, hovering near the hilt of the sword at his waist, twitched slightly.
Though they had never met, the man held a grudge against him. The Eldest Son was the fiancé of Geomyehwa, whose head had rolled after she tried to recklessly slaughter commoners.
Some time later, Jeong Yeon-shin had faced the lackeys of the Deep Martial Alliance who came seeking vengeance.
It was a force sent by the Eldest Son to kill him, but they failed to achieve their goal because the Azure Qilin's Imperial Sword Form had acted as a major variable.
They say the grudges of the Jianghu will find you even after you wash your hands in a golden basin.
The grudge formed when he first entered the Murim persisted even now, as he was eyeing the Purple Rank.
Jeong Yeon-shin once again realized the swamp-like nature of the Jianghu. Would he now find enemies lying in ambush everywhere he went?
"Your words and actions are still rash, Lady Gun," the white-clad swordsman slowly shook his head. "My subordinates are listening. Refrain from such clumsy speculation."
He was still half-reclined on the rock.
Did he possess that much confidence in his refined sword technique? He remained perfectly calm, even while keeping both Jeong Yeon-shin and Great Monk Wonjeok in his sights.
"Cut the crap. You're worried because your subordinates' eyes are the Alliance Leader's ears, aren't you? How dare you tell such an obvious lie..."
She trembled with rage. This was not the Gun Yurin who was usually so resolute, bold, and the very incarnation of absolute self-conceit.
Instead, she showed the vulnerable side of a powerful family's successor whose pride had been deeply wounded.
"I know everything. You have to compete with the Moyong Clan for the remaining treasures in the Tomb of the Heavenly Demon, and you hate that I'm bringing in a powerful variable, don't you? To think you'd interfere in the succession struggle and make such petty excuses...!"
"Enough of your idle chatter," Jeong Yeon-shin cut her off.
He had already grasped the rough outline of the situation surrounding them.
I see how it is.
The Killing Gate guarded the Tomb of the Heavenly Demon.
The Moyong Clan and the Deep Martial Alliance were both targeting the Heavenly Demon's legacy.
Within the Deep Martial Alliance, Gun Yurin and the Eldest Son were locked in a bitter struggle over the succession.
The swordsman before him had sided with the Eldest Son. Meanwhile, Gun Yurin, who was also searching for the Killing Gate, had inadvertently drawn in one of Shaolin Temple's Four Great Vajras by treating Jeong Yeon-shin with such great respect.
From the perspective of the Deep Martial Alliance's Eldest Son, there could be no variable more unsettling than this.
"You said the village was dead. Is the lack of any sign of life your doing?"
Asking about the well-being of the common people before addressing his own goals was his top priority. This was the attitude held by most martial artists of the Desolate Fortress. At the same time, Wonjeok, who stood beside him with half-closed eyes, softly chanted a Buddhist prayer.
"Amitabha...!"
A heavy sigh was laced within the voice of one of Great Shaolin's Four Great Vajras.
Jeong Yeon-shin quickly shook off the sudden feeling of being treated like a five-year-old child. This was a situation that required absolute seriousness, even if his shaven-headed maternal grandfather was standing by his side.
"..."
The white-clad swordsman did not answer.
He merely wore a strange smile. The way his taciturn lips curled up like a sword blade was deeply irritating. It was not a pleasant sight in Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.
"I asked what you did. Answer me," Jeong Yeon-shin demanded.
"The youngest Black Rank. The one favored by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, of noble birth, the Hidden King Amidst Flowers of Sichuan, and the Lotus Nezha of Shanxi..."
The Martial Venerable of the Deep Martial Alliance spoke slowly. While looking at Jeong Yeon-shin, he never let Great Monk Wonjeok out of his sight.
"There must have been nothing in this world that didn't go your way."
"...?"
"It must have felt as if the world existed solely for you. I've been watching you from afar recently, and seeing how you've managed to charm even our Alliance's Lady and one of Shaolin's Four Great Vajras, I finally understand. I see why Lingering Spirit and the Hegemon Sword Sect wanted you dead. Since you are even of the Hegemon Hero's bloodline, you could very well shove the Mount Hua Agreement in the faces of the Nine Sects' leaders, who are living leisurely amongst themselves. This gives me pause..."
Ting— Ting—
With his hand supporting his upper body from behind, he tapped his index finger. His fingertip struck the top of the rock, but the sound that rang out emitted a strange, metallic vibration.
Looking closely, he wasn't tapping the surface of the rock at all. A long, colorless, transparent sword lay resting alongside an iron sword.
They were indeed dual swords.
"It's the Glass Spirit Sword. Be careful," Gun Yurin whispered through gritted teeth.
She did not state the man's identity. There was no need to.
The Twin-Wing Blood Venerable of the Deep Martial Alliance.
An absolute master swordsman who wielded two divine weapons like a pair of wings.
He was the youngest among the Three Martial Venerables. He had become the sword master of the Deep Martial Alliance's Eldest Son at an exceptionally young age. It was said that his innate talent for the sword was downright terrifying.
There was a famous anecdote about the Sect Leader of the Hengshan Sect, one of the Nine Sects, speaking to him.
He had told the young Twin-Wing Blood Venerable to climb Mount Heng. It was a direct invitation to join the sect from an absolute master of the Nine Great Sects. The entire Jianghu had been abuzz over that event.
None of that mattered to Jeong Yeon-shin.
"I ask you one last time. What did you do to the villagers?"
He spoke as he slowly adjusted the muscles of his entire body using the Jeong Family Dynamic Art.
The trace amounts of true qi inherent in his three hundred and sixty-five acupoints began to circulate.
Rising from his thighs, traveling up his waist, and finally reaching both shoulders and wrists, an invisible cycle of contraction and relaxation ensued. He was assuming a combat stance.
This is no time to worry about internal injuries.
Did he sense that subtle movement? The hem of the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable's white robe twitched slightly.
"There is no need for me to take any risks here," he said.
"Leave the Lady and turn back. I will not interfere with whatever else you do in Shanxi. Once you turn around and leave, the village will return to its original state."
"Why should I believe you?"
"I stake my name as a Venerable. Is this not an offer that a commander of the Desolate Fortress should naturally accept?"
His meaning was clear. He was holding the commoners hostage.
"Why don't you just speak plainly?" Yu-hyeon, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward.
The plum blossom embroidery on the young Taoist's sleeves fluttered elegantly.
"I know why you people of the Deep Martial Alliance can't tell heaven from earth. You receive the protection of the Imperial Family in exchange for raising and sending martial forces to the Northern Region, don't you? I can also guess why you're reluctant to get involved with Yeon-shin. Unlike before, he's become too troublesome to touch. Perhaps because the Imperial Family might strip away your privileges."
His eyes were unwavering, and his words were clear and precise.
Even if Jeong Yeon-shin and Wonjeok were not by his side, he would have spoken just as directly. Such was the unyielding spirit of the Nine Sects.
The Twin-Wing Blood Venerable smirked.
Sss.
As he slowly stood up, grasping the transparent Glass Spirit Sword and his iron sword, the drizzling rain began to be pushed away in all directions. He had fully activated his internal energy.
"Our Alliance's work is a grand undertaking," he said. "Do you think a single Commander of the Demonlight Wing can replace the martial force supplied to the Northern front? No one in the world would think so."
"That's entirely your own opinion. Do you think the Jegal Clan Leader at full strength couldn't do that?" Yu-hyeon retorted. Before anyone knew it, he had slipped behind Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder.
"Nonsense," the sword master of the Deep Martial Alliance laughed. "Looking at you now, the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing does not possess the martial prowess to slay the Reincarnated Crouching Dragon on his own. Even taking your internal injuries into account, it is the same. It is only natural, given your age. I do not know what trick you used back then, but the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress must have contributed greatly."
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. He merely focused on honing his body for combat.
The Killing Gate, the Moyong Clan, the Deep Martial Alliance.
The Twin-Wing Blood Venerable was a core force of the Deep Martial Alliance. If he fell here, the martial forces that had entered Shanxi would have no choice but to falter.
In fact, it would be Jeong Yeon-shin eliminating the variable of the Deep Martial Alliance in advance.
The only problem was the villagers who had been driven away by his subordinates.
It was then.
Did the Venerable think of the same thing while locking eyes with Jeong Yeon-shin?
"Are you going to turn a blind eye to the lives of the common people? A single signal, and they will be slaughtered," the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable said, his lips twisting into a cruel smile.
He stood tall on the rock, holding his dual swords. An extremely grim aura flowed from his entire body. At the same time, the surrounding thickets twitched.
The presence of at least dozens of martial artists approached, shaking the earth with a low rumble. It was as if they were declaring that the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who had not yet recovered from his internal injuries, was theirs to take.
The Twin-Wing Blood Venerable was their commander.
His position was entirely different from Gun Yurin's, who stood beside Jeong Yeon-shin.
"He's a man who synthesized our Alliance's sword techniques into dual swordplay. They say his talent was so immense that he couldn't be satisfied with just a single blade," she said, parting her lips with a look of despair.
"With your physical condition, it will be hard to face him. No matter how great the Lotus Nezha is, right now..."
Jeong Yeon-shin stared blankly at her.
"What are you talking about? We agreed to go all the way to the Killing Gate."
"I'll just go back. I'm sorry for causing trouble. Since one of the Four Great Vajras, who cares for you deeply, is by your side, you'll be able to forge a path. It was quite fun."
Swish.
Gun Yurin's wild hair swept across his field of vision.
Contrary to her defeated words, her movements were extremely light. A faint, wavy pattern was left behind her leather shoes as they trod upon the snowy ground.
It was the wave of the Body Protection Scripture. Despite claiming she was giving up on everything, she clearly intended to close the distance and stab the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable.
"The common people, the common people." The Twin-Wing Blood Venerable's sneer deepened. "The Desolate Fortress is full of fools who go around scattering hostages all over the world. Seeing the great Commander of the Demonlight Wing rendered utterly helpless, perhaps I should consider silencing everyone here..."
"Namu Gwanse-eum."
A low Buddhist chant echoed.
It came from directly to Jeong Yeon-shin's right. Great Monk Wonjeok, who had been standing completely still, finally moved.
Step.
It was said that Shaolin's martial arts were solemn and heavy. With just a single step, an incredibly oppressive weight descended upon the area.
Jeong Yeon-shin forced his senses to heighten. The upper dantian in his mind was instantly filled with a mystical light.
He focused all his sense of qi on Great Monk Wonjeok beside him, wielding his unique sense that pulled at time—which never truly stopped—as if grasping a mere thread.
I was curious. This will definitely be of help.
The rustling of the conifer leaves overhead died down.
The wind began to flow at an extremely sluggish pace.
The surrounding scenery and signs of life did the same. Before he knew it, Jeong Yeon-shin could see Great Monk Wonjeok's back right in front of him.
He could also see the hem of the orange Buddhist robe soaring in a straight line toward the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable.
That is...
There was no sign of extreme speed or urgency.
It was simply the feeling of a man naturally moving his body. Yet, in this slowed-down world, Great Monk Wonjeok was the only one in motion. He continued his steady advance toward the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable.
A certain pathway could be felt, accompanied by a magnificent intent.
— Forgetting movement, there is no distinction of space.
It was invisible. Only a suction force pulling at his skin existed.
As if possessed, Jeong Yeon-shin forced his feet to lift. He paid no heed to the quadriceps in his thighs tightening as if being twisted on a torture rack.
Within Great Monk Wonjeok's Body Protection Scripture, he perceived a certain person. As his senses traced back through the vast ages engraved in Shaolin's 72 Supreme Arts, he felt an overwhelming sense of kinship, a sensation so sharp it felt as if his mind were being sliced open.
A warm comfort washed over his chest.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as if he had touched fingertips with someone—a transcendent inspiration that spanned across eras.
A monumental name flashed through his mind.
Bodhidharma.
Left behind by someone just like me...
Sss—
Following the path where Great Monk Wonjeok had just soared, Jeong Yeon-shin stepped out into the empty air. It was an act of pure, unadulterated defiance against the natural order, a mortal attempting to tread upon the heavens.
With his worn leather shoes, he rode the very texture of the wind. He could feel the invisible currents swirling beneath his soles, solidifying into momentary footholds. He surrendered his body entirely to the bizarre, magnetic suction force of the distorted space, letting the invisible current pull him along a perfectly straight line carved through the sky.
Suddenly, his vision violently blurred. The sheer, overwhelming pressure of forcing his way into a realm of super-ascension—a domain far beyond his current physical limits—began to take a severe toll. Patches of deep, blood-red stained the edges of his sight, creeping inward like blooming ink. The fragile blood vessels in his eyes had burst under the immense atmospheric and spiritual strain, painting the world in a hazy crimson tint.
Yet, Jeong Yeon-shin did not care in the slightest. He ignored the stinging pain and the alarming red hue of his vision, simply extending his legs with unwavering resolve. He moved with a surreal, fluid grace, as if he were swimming upwards through the dense, heavy ocean of the sky rather than walking through thin air.
He took a step. Once.
He pushed against the void. Twice.
He ascended further. Thrice.
...When his scattered senses finally snapped back into sharp focus, he found himself standing high above the ground. Both of his feet were planted firmly upon the flat of a chillingly transparent blade, balancing on it as effortlessly as if he were standing on a wide, unfolded fan. The weapon beneath him radiated a freezing aura; it was none other than the Glass Spirit Sword, one of the legendary divine weapons belonging to the Deep Martial Alliance.
Whoosh—!
A brutal, icy winter wind whipped past, scraping harshly against his exposed skin. The profound, temporal pathway created by the Shaolin secret technique—the legendary Vajra Immovable Body Art—had finally reached its limit and dissolved, returning the surrounding space to its normal, unforgiving state.
Far below his feet, the Twin-Wing Blood Venerable stared up at him. The notorious martial artist’s face was twisted into a look of sheer, unadulterated shock, his eyes wide with disbelief at the impossible sight of a young man casually standing upon the heavens.
Right beside Jeong Yeon-shin, Great Monk Wonjeok stood with calm authority. The old monk had his hands clasped casually behind his back, one foot stepping down heavily to pin and suppress the other iron sword with absolute, unyielding force.
"Hmm?"
In that fleeting instant, the eyes of the Brightfolk eminent monk met Jeong Yeon-shin's. The elderly master, a man who had spent decades mastering his inner self and rarely, if ever, showed even a ripple of emotion, parted his lips slightly in genuine surprise. For a monk of his profound cultivation to react this way meant he was utterly, fundamentally astonished by what had just transpired.
"Benefactor, when did you...?" the Great Monk asked, his voice trailing off as he tried to comprehend how the young man had managed to follow him into the sky.
"I'm used to this kind of thing..."
Jeong Yeon-shin glossed over the monumental feat with a vague, nonchalant reply, his gaze remaining fixed on the chilling horizon.