Chapter 328: Grandfather and Grandson
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 328: Grandfather and Grandson
Then, a footstep echoed. A short, sharp tap.
A man with a noticeably robust build landed on the mountain peak.
The thunderous momentum of his descent vanished in an instant. He had completely absorbed the impact through masterful control of his internal energy.
Only the wide, pink sleeves of his robe fluttered as he stepped forward casually, as if out for a stroll.
Step.
The silence he brought with him seemed to take physical form, spreading down to the lower hills like an invisible swamp.
Below the slope, the aftermath of his Fa Jin swept through like a violent gale. Blood, flesh, and bone fragments rolled among the shattered stones, tumbling further and further down.
Only a fraction of the martial arts army had survived.
The hooves of horses struck the ground intermittently, their riders unable to coax even a whinny from them. The clattering sounded hollow.
The mounted warriors, swords in one hand and reins in the other, had fallen silent.
The solemn expressions on the faces of the dozens of survivors vanished, replaced by sheer, dumbfounded disbelief.
Not only had their sword formation collapsed, but their charge had also ground to a halt. They had no choice.
They stood amid the mangled corpses of their slaughtered comrades. Surviving this moment was nothing short of a miracle.
This was not something the Thirteen Heavens should be experiencing. It was a truly surreal sight.
“……”
The forced silence was profound. None of the mounted warriors could find their voices.
But the absolute master standing at their head was different.
“Who are you?”
The leader of the Deep Martial Alliance, Monarch Martial Emperor Gun Wi-hu.
The Alliance Leader's cloak, woven from pure white fur, fluttered violently as he hovered an inch off the ground using Void Treading.
Even as the ground beneath him caved in with a heavy thud, forming a circular crater, his body floated serenely above it.
Rumble—
The earth shook. This was not the recoil from the intruder's strike, but an aftershock from the ground collapsing under the pressure of Gun Wi-hu's energy wave. The impact did not stop at a single tremor; it was said that the shockwave of the Deep Martial Alliance's Condensed Radiance Art, when mastered, could trigger landslides.
It was a monstrous display of power. An explosion of True Qi erupted with his anger, his control of internal energy having reached the stage of manifesting his will upon the world.
Yet, he did not immediately counterattack. It was the nature of a ruler of the Jianghu, one who prioritized absolute victory above all else.
Even when facing an unexpected entity, the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance was unshaken. Identifying his opponent came first.
As the surviving forces behind him finally let out long, held breaths, he spoke again.
“I asked for your identity.”
The Alliance Leader’s interrogation continued, his voice stern. He did not seem to recognize the man who had suddenly intervened.
It was not surprising.
Though the leaders of the world's great sects were often mentioned in the same breath by gossips, they rarely met in person. The world was vast, and they were far too busy with their own cultivation and sect affairs. This was especially true over the decades as leadership changed hands.
The man in the pink robe opened his mouth.
“What amusing manners for a mere child.”
His words were directed at none other than the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance.
“Wait there.”
It was unprecedented. Both his words and his demeanor defied all convention. Though he had descended with an aura of fury, after a single wave of his hand, he did not spare them another glance.
His innate character showed as he turned his gaze toward the clearing at the top of the peak. His priorities were clear—an arrogant temperament that bordered on stubbornness.
And yet.
“Yeon-shin.”
The man's voice softened gently.
“I see you have progressed to the point of being unrecognizable. Your aura reminds me of steel tempered a hundred times. It must be because you have forged your own secret technique. I am highly curious.”
“How…?”
Jeong Yeon-shin closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. He was standing at the top of the slope, with the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord Moyong Jung-rak right beside him, his sword held low.
He couldn’t help his reaction. Was it because his tension had dissipated, if only for a moment? No, the Moyong Clan Head was also wearing a peculiar expression, no less stunned than the Alliance Leader.
The greatest sword talent of the Moyong Clan, who, like Gun Wi-hu, had come to be called a peerless master in his middle age, stared down at the uninvited guest.
The youthful elder paid him no mind.
“I heard the rumor that the Jegal bastard’s head flew off by your sword. When I read the reports detailing his words and deeds, I was absolutely furious, but the parts about you were a great comfort, soothing my anger for days on end. I am glad you are safe. This old man has received an undeserved blessing in his later years.”
He spoke in a youthful voice but with the tone of an old man, looking only at the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. It was a complete reversal from how he had treated the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance. His words and demeanor were incredibly benevolent, as if he were telling a long story to his own grandson.
‘Ah.’
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who had not backed down even when facing a peerless master like the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord, merely parted his lips in silence for a moment before adjusting his grip on the hilt of Northern Light.
The Desolate Fortress occasionally reminded him of his solitude, for it was there he realized he was not alone. During his truly desolate childhood, he had not even known what emptiness or loneliness felt like.
Suddenly, an image of a house with a swing flashed through his mind. It was neither the Jeong Family Manor nor the Ma Family estate, but somewhere else entirely.
At this moment, there was not much he could say.
The words that struggled to form in his throat were uttered in his usual voice the moment they left his lips.
“…Have you been well?”
“Of course. And you are the same as ever. Though that, too, is this old man's failing…”
The man's words carried a double meaning, referring both to Yeon-shin's unrecognizably robust body and his habit of never showing any sign of struggle.
It was an embarrassingly doting display. For the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing, such words were hard to accept, serving only to stir his youthful, rebellious spirit.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not want to see his maternal grandfather's sorrowful expression. Anyone his age would feel the same.
So he shifted the subject, wanting to focus entirely on the Moyong Clan Head, the Alliance Leader, and this land that had transformed into a perilous battlefield.
“I must face the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord. Even if I cannot slay him…”
“Do as you wish.”
Ma Yeon-jeok, hands clasped behind his back, nodded. His cold impression was swept away by an almost awkwardly affectionate smile.
“You must go to a wider world in the future.”
His maternal grandfather spoke, positioned between the Moyong Clan Head above and the Alliance Leader below.
At the same time, Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyelids lowered slightly.
A strange sensation washed over him. The wilderness seemed to transform into the marble training grounds of the Desolate Fortress.
Even without hearing it aloud, his grandfather's intent reached him. Where else would you find such an opportunity? This old man will watch over you, so focus on honing your martial arts… The words echoed in his heart.
Was it because his crown was resonating with his grandfather's Upper Dantian?
Whoosh—
A gust of wind swept past his feet. The air brushing against his skin felt different than before.
It felt somewhat lukewarm. A hint of spring seemed to flicker through the hazy dust, signaling that winter was truly at its end.
The mounted experts below the slope looked up at the peak alongside the Alliance Leader.
The white-robed swordsman, the Number One of Liaodong, Moyong Jung-rak, stood silently in the clearing.
And Ma Yeon-jeok, standing in the center of it all, brought everything to a halt.
Sigh.
The moment the late-winter sandstorm suddenly settled, the battlefield transformed into a martial arts stage.
A bizarre standoff enveloped the surroundings. Monarch Martial Emperor Gun Wi-hu remained silent, his gaze fixed solely on the intruder, while the mounted experts of the Deep Martial Alliance dismounted and lined up behind him. They stepped over the shredded flesh of their comrades, their demeanor suggesting they would march to their deaths the moment an order was given—a spirit worthy of a great sect of the Thirteen Heavens.
Rustle.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned toward Moyong Jung-rak. The sound of his footsteps brushing against the stone debris was no longer as bleak as before.
“Who might you be?” the peerless swordsman of the Moyong Clan asked, his back perfectly straight.
The Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord was also a monster among men. The dark blue lightning flashing in his eyes was a testament to his keen insight. He had already discerned Ma Yeon-jeok’s character from just a few words and seemed to perceive that the man’s strange manner of speaking was entirely natural to him.
Given a little more time, he would easily guess Ma Yeon-jeok’s identity. The same went for the Alliance Leader.
“Did the Desolate Fortress have someone like that? Aside from that Yong fellow of the Divine Sword Corps,” the Moyong Clan Head asked casually, tilting his sword blade back and forth. His composure remained unshaken.
Perhaps it was his ingrained nature. Though anyone could see he was now in the weakest position in this three-way confrontation, he appeared relaxed despite being alone. He was truly worthy of being one of the foremost masters of the martial world.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. He only felt the hilt of the fully warmed Northern Light in his palm.
‘It feels like the first time.’
Until now, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had never had the luxury of leisure. He was constantly placed in disadvantageous situations.
After rising to the Black Rank, he felt the responsibility of a sect leader. From a position of weakness, he had faced supreme masters far older than himself, always having to look out for his comrades while planning for the aftermath. His fate had forced this upon him; it was the reason the Flash Art Lineage pursued extremely brief tactical exchanges.
But not now. This was completely different.
It was a real battle, yet he felt at ease.
His opponent was not a peerless master who had exhausted his strength like the Jegal Clan Leader, yet the air around Jeong Yeon-shin flowed serenely. He relegated the leader of the Thirteen Heavens to a mere spectator, his mind at peace even with one of the Eight Clan Heads standing right in front of him.
“I am pleased by this unexpected windfall,” Moyong Jung-rak said. “I came to obtain the Body Protection Qi, but it seems I will also get to temper my sword skills.”
“What?”
“It is only right that I quickly take your head and move on to that man. Come, strike.”
His words treated Jeong Yeon-shin as a mere stepping stone. It was said that among the absolute masters of the Jianghu, there were none who were not obsessed with martial arts. Even knowing he was the underdog, his competitive spirit was aimed at Ma Yeon-jeok.
I will absolutely not die. Such was the confidence of a lofty transcendent, evident in his very tone.
“I do not have the luxury of playing with an unfinished child for long. Let the martial art you used to slay Jegal Cheon be your first stance.”
“Are you stronger than the master of the Jegal Clan?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked, slightly loosening his grip on the sword hilt.
Moyong Jung-rak curled the corners of his mouth. “What is the use of discussing the martial prowess of a man who lived and died as a Crouching Dragon? In the end, he failed to even rule Shanxi. He tried to play Zhuge Liang with the Sword Saint as his Emperor Zhaolie, but he died without ever uncoiling his plans, all because of your tricks. And that was despite him holding the counter to the Ak Family Spear.”
Hum—
A white light emanated from the sword the Moyong Clan Head raised. It was as if he had wrapped a cluster of stars from the distant sky around his blade like silk. A transcendent aura spread from it.
“Victory and defeat in the Jianghu are common. It is arrogant for someone who slew Jegal Cheon through a joint attack and sheer luck to speak so boldly.”
Soon after, his sword blurred.
He finally struck.
The Moyong Clan's Meteor Sword transformed into a hazy pillar of light. In an instant, the surrounding atmosphere surged violently like translucent blue waves.
The sword strike, extending in a straight line, was monstrously fast.
The time for proof had come. This was the moment that would announce to the entire world that he was not just a young unit commander, but a warrior who had come closest to the rank of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
Rumble—
In Jeong Yeon-shin's mind, a dragon of brilliant light ascended to heaven, a fan in its mouth.
‘Divine Art Secret Technique.’
Fan Dragon Lotus Art.
An intangible wave bloomed from his Upper Dantian, surging violently. It happened the very instant the sword light of Moyong Jung-rak, the man who had conquered the vast land of Liaodong, flickered in his vision.
Unconcerned, the mind of the Lotus Nezha wandered through the realm of light.
The Fan Dragon descended the slope of the adjacent mountain peak like a beam of light. The spiritual energy of the wondrous Baihui Point tore through the atmosphere via the mental image of the Divine Dragon. It was instantly forged into a channel that resonated with his Upper Dantian, striking down like lightning upon the crown of the Hegemon Hero, Ma Yeon-jeok.
Clang!
With a deafening roar, a monstrous shockwave erupted.