Chapter 324: Shaking the Heavens (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 324: Shaking the Heavens (3)
Bukgung-a, Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring.
Her striking features were as white as snow. She leaned casually against a fragment of marble, her incredibly long legs stretched out before her. Her relaxed, bent arms shared that same lithe proportion.
She was born with a body perfectly built for combat. Around her knees, the residual shockwaves of her kicking techniques shimmered with a colorless distortion.
Her surname was Bukgung.
She hailed from the North, a region where the clans were renowned for their bold and open-hearted natures. Rumor had it that noble royal blood flowed through her veins.
As a top-ranking figure of the Desolate Fortress, she was publicly hailed as one of the Three Black Strengths. She was infamous for her inability to sleep anywhere in the main fortress other than the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall. Yet, in the grand scheme of things, a quirk or two hardly stood out.
This was because, despite her various obsessions, her martial prowess and achievements were simply immense. She was far from humble, possessing an ego and pride as vast as the Great Wall of the North.
She was never the type to pry into another's martial arts. Thus, for the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring to personally read the secret manual of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing was nothing short of an anomaly within the Desolate Fortress.
It carried a heavy significance. This could hardly be viewed as a mere individual whim; one had to look at the broader situation.
The martial lineages of the Jianghu had risen up across the land due to the famine.
The Thirteen Heavens were potentially uniting under the guidance of Lingering Spirit.
Countless small and medium-sized heterodox sects ran rampant under the Thirteen Heavens' banner.
The Eight Great Families' pursuit of self-interest had reached its absolute peak.
And hundreds of local martial aristocrats were forming Martial World Alliances everywhere, a direct backlash against the Desolate Fortress's stance of treating orthodox and unorthodox factions equally.
And then... there were the White, Blue, and even some Black Ranks of the Desolate Fortress, falling and closing their eyes forever in lands surrounded by enemies.
As these chaotic times persisted, the once-vibrant robes of the Desolate Fortress's ranks were fading into blood and dust.
Though many in the Jianghu treated the Fortress as an enemy, they offered no help to the common people. Factions that actually strove to provide relief, like the Nine Great Sects, were agonizingly few compared to the vastness of the land.
A colossal crisis was gradually coming into focus.
The Desolate Fortress was being backed into a corner. Unit Commanders returning with triumphant victories had become a rare sight.
'The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring and the Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit are examining Yeon-shin's manual? Is it because the situation surrounding the main fortress has deteriorated so rapidly? To the point where the Black Ranks on standby as the standing army must study a junior's martial arts to lend their strength...'
Ma Se-in swallowed hard, forcing down the surge of defiance rising in his throat.
He was deeply bothered by her earlier words, comparing his friend, Jeong Yeon-shin, to the Heavenly Demon. No matter the circumstances, that was crossing a line.
But he had to endure it.
Although the Unit Commanders of the Desolate Fortress fought to stabilize the lives of the common people, their personalities varied wildly. While some were the literal epitome of the orthodox faction, others were little more than butchers who just so happened to be friendly to the common folk.
The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring was definitely closer to the latter.
'No, wait, is Yeon-shin the same...?'
Ma Se-in forced the intrusive thought to the back of his mind. Jeong Yeon-shin was quite favorable toward the people of the Desolate Fortress. He was fundamentally different from the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring, who bordered on being a madwoman.
"He's an interesting fellow, isn't he?" Bukgung-a spat out after closing the manual.
When she raised her head, her expression was peculiar. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, but her deeply furrowed brow remained unchanged.
Ma Se-in stood with his hands politely clasped, though he couldn't quite hide his sullen mood. Even facing one of the Three Black Strengths, the proud blood of the Ma family was not so easily suppressed.
Tilting her head slightly, Bukgung-a curled her lips in amusement.
"You said the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing is in Shanxi right now? I heard a few of his assassins occasionally capture a target and force them to toss a copper coin, promising to let them live if they guess heads or tails correctly. They call it their own twisted sense of elegance."
"……?"
"That Flash Art fellow is no different from that coin. He's a complete bastard. To the ignorant underlings, it might look like the unfathomable grace of a grandmaster... but to clearly lay out countless paths forward—up to the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Steps—and only toss them a mere Second Step? If you have the insight, you can survey the entire foundation and future of this martial art. But if you're dull, you'll just stubbornly practice those two steps forever."
The Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit, who had been standing blankly nearby, flinched.
Clack.
Bukgung-a's body naturally rose to an upright position.
The profound principles of Void Grab were so seamlessly integrated into her casual movements that, for a split second, she hardly seemed human.
"Does he think everyone is a monster like him? I don't know if he expects us to figure out the Third Step onward by ourselves, if he himself couldn't reach that far yet, or if he simply didn't dare expect the dullards of the main fortress to reach such heights. There's also an insolently large number of martial principles omitted here and there..."
"Aren't your words a bit too harsh?"
It seemed Ma Ung, standing behind him, was the only one who properly heard Ma Se-in's courageously muttered words.
While the Ma family's bodyguard fidgeted anxiously, Bukgung-a turned her attention back to the Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit, her eyes burning with a dark light. Her aura verged on madness.
"But I like how straightforward it is. Those with even a speck of talent will see immediate results. I was getting sick of watching our underlings get beaten to death out there, but with this, they'll be able to hold their own. Don't you agree, Uncle Searing Abyss?"
"...Didn't you say you were going to examine a body structured by the Jeong Family Dynamic Art? That must be why you called the Ma family kid over," the Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit muttered.
An immediate reply shot back.
"I already looked. You can't copy that."
Bukgung-a's face instantly turned dead serious. The rapid shift in her expression was as sharp as a fast sword.
"The current Commander of the Demonlight Wing is an absolute lunatic when it comes to martial arts. Just scanning this kid's energy waves, you can see how insanely and exquisitely he structured it. He dyed his entire body in the dynamic art system. I thought it was strange that a mediocre Ma family kid suddenly looked like a genius... but Yeon-shin essentially transformed his muscles and energy channels using true qi. There's nothing to be gained from just looking at his body."
It was a sharp, rapid-fire analysis. The bodies of the Ma family master and servant froze stiff.
The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring casually flicked her wrist toward Ma Se-in. It was a dismissive gesture telling him to get lost, her entire demeanor treating him as nothing more than an insignificant speck.
"Radiant Wing Second Step, my foot. A footwork technique of this caliber could easily yield five more steps. Let's create a branch that surpasses the main stream."
Rustle.
Interlocking her fingers, the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring raised her arms high, stretching. Her soft, jet-black sleeves brushed against her cheeks as they cascaded down.
Beside her, the Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit, Yu Jeong-myeong, furrowed his brow and clasped his hands behind his back.
"You are speaking of things outside our plan. Didn't we agree to merely examine the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's martial arts, and if we judged it helpful for an immediate boost in combat power, we would simplify and teach it to the warriors of the main fortress?"
"That was before I read it. I didn't know it was such an incredibly intuitive martial art. It's a waste to just simplify and teach it. So, before that Flash Art fellow returns, I'm going to structure it my own way. I think I can just barely manage to connect it up to the Radiant Wing Fourth Step."
It was a completely nonchalant reply.
A cold gleam flashed in Yu Jeong-myeong's blue eyes.
"Isn't that highly disrespectful? The creator is alive and well..."
"You're opposing this? Did some orthodox faction elder trash suddenly possess you? I swear, Uncle, I'll cut off one of your fingers for every nameless disciple or White Rank kid who dies out there while we do nothing."
"Even if it is a martial art that has entered the Gold-Piercing Martial Library, it does not belong entirely to you. I am saying you must show proper respect. Tampering with that footwork without exchanging a single word with its grandmaster is no different from the actions of the Northern Fighting God you hate so much...!"
Instantly, the corners of Bukgung-a's eyes sharpened to a murderous degree.
Craaaack—!
It happened in a flash. The Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit's body was caught in a sudden, explosive storm of qi and violently blown backward.
With a deafening roar, the wall shattered, sending a thick haze of stone dust billowing into the air. In the blink of an eye, the figure of Yu Jeong-myeong vanished beyond the rubble.
"You damn old man, in military terms, this is wartime. Do you have any idea how far it is from here to Shanxi? What if the swordsmen of Heaven's Bane scale our fortress walls tomorrow? I heard those Lingering Spirit bastards are already loitering around Xiangyang."
Standing right where she had struck from, the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring clenched and unclenched the hand raised to her chest.
"Besides, aren't you, me, and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing all martial siblings bound to the same sect? If he ends up liking my version of his martial art, tell him he can just take it."
Her ebony hair fluttered wildly in the delayed backdraft. Ma Se-in, standing near the entrance of the empty lot, couldn't track the exchange at all.
Only Bukgung-a's legs, which faintly distorted the space around them, caught his eye.
Her first step was extremely familiar. The straight, forward movement of her foot and the subtle shimmering of energy waves around her calves were an exact match.
'Radiant Wing Step...!'
Ma Se-in's eyes widened so far they felt like they might tear.
Soon after, a rumor quietly spread through the Desolate Fortress. It was said that the Commander of the Thread-Annihilation Unit, the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring, and the Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit had started a bet over a certain footwork technique.
It was a competition to see who could be the first to successfully manifest four steps. The final evaluation of the martial art's completion would be left to its original creator.
This was the birth of a new martial branch. It spread like wildfire, becoming a massive trend within the fortress.
It was the second great wave, following the previous trend of prioritizing short-term decisive battles.
The Desolate Fortress was gradually being dyed in the colors of Flash Art. All so that they—the sword protecting the livelihood of the people—would not break.
*
A mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
The flat land surrounding the canyon was stained a dark, gruesome red. Dozens of corpses lay strewn about in a massive circle.
On one side of the cliff, far from the carnage, the steady footsteps of Jeong Yeon-shin shattered the silence of the dead. He was clad in a plain black robe.
"The Great Ritual Sword pointed this way."
"Y-Yes, that is correct."
Heonwon Chang, who had tightly retied his Hero's Headband behind his head, followed him with a dazed gait.
The aura of the Hero of the Desolate Fortress was entirely different from when he had released his restriction. His atmosphere had returned to normal. He was back to being the same Great Tongue Sword as always.
"Let's see. Even if I can't break the formation, I should at least be able to send a signal."
Heonwon Chang stepped over the corpses of the martial scholars and stood by a section of the cliff wall.
He wore a deeply emotional expression mixed with a ruthless demeanor—a look that strangely suited the Hero's Headband trailing in the wind behind him. Jeong Yeon-shin stepped aside and watched. The Hero of the Desolate Fortress began pressing against the cliff face in a strange, deliberate pattern.
"Sword control... sword control, sword kinesis..."
A heavily hoarse voice drifted from behind them. Jeong Yeon-shin guessed the man's identity without even turning around. It was the last swordsman he had cut down among the Moyong Young Master's retinue.
Had he completely lost his mind? The shock and sheer terror in his muttering were far thicker than the fading life force he had left.
"Lotus... Lotus Nezha. Demonlight Wing... must avoid..."
The dismal thud of a body collapsing echoed out. The last survivor, who had been deliriously repeating those words to himself, finally died. He perished without even leaving a name in this wilderness that surrounded the cliff like a fortress.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't even bother to look back.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing was a true warrior. Having waded through countless life-and-death struggles, he had long since resolved not to view such vicious enemies as human.
Benevolence was a privilege that allowed the common people to remain human, but it did not suit him—a man who had to kill simply to avoid dying young.
"It's open! Why was the response so fast?"
Following the gaze of Heonwon Chang, who had suddenly raised his head, a corner of the solid cliff face swung open like a door. It was a mechanical marvel rarely seen in the Jianghu.
With a heavy rumbling sound like the groaning hinges of a massive iron gate, the illusion of the cliff gave way to darkness. A damp, cave-like wind blew out from within.
"You are safe after all. I was deeply worried while taking care of the disciples and those old men who refuse to act their age..."
A slender figure stood at the entrance. He appeared to be the one who had deactivated the stealth formation and opened the gate.
"I have been waiting, Seon-hwi."
The man clasped his hands in an exaggeratedly polite greeting. His entire demeanor exuded a noble, unhurried elegance.
Geum Jon-hwi, the Slaying Hero.
He wore a wide-brimmed Black Bamboo Hat. The long black cape flowing down his back vaguely resembled the uniform of the Desolate Fortress's Unit Commanders. He exuded a subtle, ephemeral aura, as if he might vanish into thin air at any moment—the exact kind of presence that would earn someone a title like the 'Mysterious Young Master' in the Jianghu.
His gaze landed on Jeong Yeon-shin.
Instantly, a cheerful smile blossomed on Geum Jon-hwi's lips.
"We finally meet like this. Welcome to the true Killing Gate. For a long time, I have..."
His voice trailed off. He had just tilted his Black Bamboo Hat up slightly, allowing his gaze to take in the mountain of corpses behind them.
Every single one of them had been cut down with a single strike. Anyone with even a modicum of knowledge in the way of the sword would recognize it instantly.
There were those whose upper and lower bodies had been cleanly severed in a straight line. There were those who, in the middle of unleashing a sword shockwave, had their necks sliced off along with their weapons, leaving half-broken blades embedded in their own abdomens. And there were those sprawled out in a neat row, as if their heads had been blown off all at once.
'What kind of monstrous sword art must one face to end up in such a state?'
The Slaying Hero was completely lost for words.
There were easily forty bodies. Not a single corpse was found without a sword in hand. This meant they were all elite swordsmen whose skills had reached the peak.
Even for Geum Seon-hwi with his restriction fully released, massacring this many experts would have been an extremely difficult task. Yet the young noble standing before him, the infamous Lotus Nezha, wore a perfectly serene expression. There wasn't a single drop of blood on his sword guard or the back of his hand.
Strange, Violent, Chaotic, and Supernatural.
'Should I really let him inside?'
A sudden, intense conflict arose within him. After all, he led the sect that guarded the slumbering legacy of the Tomb of the Heavenly Demon.
The Moyong Clan Head and the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance, who had been greedily eyeing this place recently, were still nothing more than unseen dragons lurking in the depths. They simply could not compare to the sheer pressure of the present moment, standing eye-to-eye with an imugi on the very verge of ascending to heaven.
His gaze kept involuntarily drifting toward the mountain of corpses and the sea of blood stretching out just over the shoulder of the Desolate Fortress's young noble.
"Since this is the sect that raised the right hand of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing," the Lotus Nezha suddenly spoke. His tone was gentle, almost as if he were warmly persuading a friend. "I suppose this can be considered a gift."