Chapter 33: Expert (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 33: Expert (2)
"...The Desolate Fortress?"
The one who broke the silence was the noble young master who had just been lecturing the wandering martial artist.
The relaxed demeanor he’d shown while chatting with the two women at his table vanished, replaced by a flicker of fluster and mounting interest.
The wanderer's eyes darted up and down. "Are you truly from the Desolate Fortress?"
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer.
"Your loose lips just insulted our faction. Do not expect my patience to last much longer," Heonwon Chang said, his expression unusually grim. The moment he drew his sword, his killing intent would undoubtedly erupt.
Having already witnessed Heonwon Chang's fighting style, Jeong Yeon-shin had no desire to waste time.
Remaining silent, he casually spun his remaining chopstick between his index and middle fingers. The wanderer's face paled instantly.
"I-I had no intention of insulting the Desolate Fortress! I was merely..."
"I don't care about your excuses," Jeong Yeon-shin interrupted. "You said the Blue-Eyed Demon Sword lost his eye. Tell me about that."
Resting his hand on his sword hilt, Jeong Yeon-shin stared at the man with clear, calm eyes.
"The Thieving Ghost! They say the Blood Flame Cult is backing the Thieving Ghost! Several Blood Master Swords and an apostle of the Blood Flame Cult clashed with the Demonlight Wing. He suffered a grievous injury while trying to protect a family of commoners..."
"..."
That sounded exactly like Cheong-myeong. For a member of the Demonlight Wing, he was exceptionally soft-hearted.
"First the Hegemon Sword Sect, and now the Blood Flame Cult?" Heonwon Chang muttered, looking thoroughly fed up. Jeong Yeon-shin nodded slowly.
They hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of the other eleven factions of the Thirteen Heavens. It seemed they were doomed to cross paths with these two over and over again.
Then again, Henan and Shaanxi were their primary territories.
"You must have been betting your life when you chose to speak so freely," Jeong Yeon-shin said. Perhaps it was the sheer weight of spirit carried in his voice, but the wanderer's body went rigid.
From the Mantis Sect to the Zhongnan Sect and the Hegemon Sword Sect, Yeon-shin had fought through one bloody battle after another. His temperament could not possibly remain the same as before. He was gradually transforming into a true man of the martial world.
"M-My deepest apologies!"
The man prostrated himself on the floor, treating Yeon-shin as if he were the Grim Reaper himself.
The prestige of the Desolate Fortress, combined with the single display of skill Jeong Yeon-shin had shown, had reduced the man to a trembling mess.
"This is the first time I've felt it would be an absolute waste to draw my Desolate Fortress sword," Heonwon Chang remarked dismissively.
But unlike him, Jeong Yeon-shin felt as though he were looking into a mirror.
Discarding one's pride just to cling to life... His own neck was just as precious to him.
The pathetic sight the wanderer made didn't feel foreign. That was him. He was the Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing, the very same boy who had been forced to bargain with the Lord of the Desolate Fortress using his own achievements just to survive.
"Go back to your meal. Just pay the owner for the broken table," he said quietly. He didn't even know why he said it. Was he hoping that fate would eventually show him the same kind of mercy?
"To possess such martial prowess at that age, one would expect him to be arrogant, yet..."
"Indeed, a master from a prestigious sect truly possesses class."
Jeong Yeon-shin's attitude was interpreted as the magnanimity of the strong. This was likely because he had unleashed a shockwave powerful enough to demonstrate his martial prowess using nothing but a mere chopstick.
Not only the other wanderers, but even the young men and women who appeared to be from noble martial families openly expressed their admiration for his grace.
Scrambling to his feet, the wanderer called over the innkeeper and paid for the table Jeong Yeon-shin had broken. He clearly wanted to flee, but was too terrified of the young swordsman to move a muscle.
The noble young master rose from his chair and approached Jeong Yeon-shin.
"Is your title by any chance the Flash Art?"
When Jeong Yeon-shin nodded, the interest in the young man's eyes deepened.
"To think I would behold the one destined to become the light of the Desolate Fortress, following the White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin. It is a true pleasure to meet you. I am Jin Yul of the Shaanxi Jin Family."
"Jeong Yeon-shin of the Desolate Fortress's Demonlight Wing."
Heonwon Chang and Jin Yul's companions also exchanged greetings. The women introduced themselves as daughters from a nearby martial arts academy.
The patrons who had originally been sharing the table awkwardly took their leave after Jin Yul slipped them some coins.
"I have long admired the martial artists of the Desolate Fortress," Jin Yul said with an amiable smile. "When you belong to a small family like ours, you cannot help but live close to the world of ordinary people, even as you navigate the martial world. Whenever I see the Desolate Fortress strike down the evils of the Jianghu, my heart feels refreshed."
His smile widened.
"A rising star of the Desolate Fortress. I heard that recently, there is a master whose martial prowess far exceeds his years active here in Shaanxi. It seems that master is none other than you, Young Hero."
"Your ears are incredibly sharp, brother!"
While Jeong Yeon-shin merely gave a silent, slightly embarrassed nod, Heonwon Chang laughed heartily and praised Jin Yul, looking thoroughly pleased.
"Since you are of the Demonlight Wing, I assume you are heading toward Lantian. Might I request to travel with you? I know it is presumptuous to ask upon our first meeting, but I truly wish to form a connection with the masters of the Desolate Fortress."
"What do you think, Young Hero Jeong?"
Heonwon Chang did not blindly agree. Though he treated Jeong Yeon-shin like a younger brother, he never violated the sect's hierarchy. The blue robe, recognized by Cheong-myeong and Baek Mi-ryeo, stood above all white robes.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke up. "You guessed our destination? You seem to know our circumstances quite well."
"Ever since the battle between Zhongnan and the Hegemon Sword Sect, the Demonlight Wing and the Mount Hua Sect have been the talk of the town in the Xi'an martial world. With everyone's eyes on them, even those of us from minor martial families can't help but learn of such major events in the Jianghu," Jin Yul replied, his smile never wavering.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at him for a moment before nodding.
*
Xi'an was one of the greatest cities in the Central Plains.
Lantian was a county located at the eastern edge of this sprawling metropolis. Since they had departed from an inn near Mount Zhongnan, they had a long ride ahead of them.
During the journey, Jin Yul and Heonwon Chang grew quite close.
"And then I roared! 'Jeong Yeon-shin, the Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress, has taken the head of the Hegemon Sword Sect's elder!' My shout back then was surely no less than Shaolin's Lion's Roar. Every single martial artist from the Zhongnan Sect and the Hegemon Sword Sect whipped their heads around. You should have seen it!"
"Would a martial artist of the Desolate Fortress ever lie? How could I not believe you?"
Both men were naturally sociable. They quickly dropped formalities and spoke comfortably with one another.
In many ways, Jin Yul did not seem like someone from a minor martial family. He was incredibly knowledgeable and knew exactly how to flatter others. He possessed a noble grace and an aura that naturally drew people in.
Before long, Heonwon Chang's lips were curled into a wide grin as they conversed, his face full of genuine goodwill.
"Did Young Hero Jeong truly take the head of the Eight-Fanged Rakshasa Sword?" asked one of the daughters of the martial arts academy riding alongside them.
Her sun-bronzed face, a testament to her diligent training, was filled with curiosity.
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head. "It was merely a battle of attrition. Senior Sword Dragon, Pacifying Fist, Senior Cliff-Severing Sword, and Young Hero Heonwon wore him down first. An elder of the Thirteen Heavens is a master on an entirely different level."
"I did manage to withstand one of his strikes! Though the finishing touch was Young Hero Jeong's brilliant sword!"
Heonwon Chang laughed heartily, clearly delighted to be included in Jeong Yeon-shin's praise.
"Let us rest for a moment," Jin Yul suggested, smiling along. The sun was high in the sky.
It was time for a meal, and the nearby stream offered a perfect spot to water the horses.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded.
Heonwon Chang volunteered to tend to the horses. Leaving him behind to gather the reins, Jeong Yeon-shin walked toward the stream.
As he bent down to fill a canteen drawn from his robes, Jin Yul, who had seated himself close by on his left, glanced at him and spoke.
"Young Hero Jeong, do you happen to use your left hand as well?"
"I use my right hand for swordplay, though I have a basic grasp of fist and palm techniques."
"I see. Then your left side must be your blind spot."
His tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. The mundane delivery made the lethal meaning of his words register a beat too late.
Swoosh.
A dagger lunged forward with astonishing speed, slicing through the air without even a whisper of wind pressure.
Jin Yul's sneak attack was incredibly stealthy, as if he were executing a blindingly fast sword technique with a mere dagger.
The True Qi of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art surged within Yeon-shin's body. The internal energy filling his meridians felt far heavier and denser than before.
He had been prepared for this ever since he agreed to travel together. Jin Yul was far too extraordinary to be a mere minor noble. The fact that they had conveniently met at the very first inn they stopped at after descending Mount Zhongnan was too perfect.
As if he had been waiting for us.
The moment Yeon-shin channeled the mnemonic of the Infinite Flower of Time Fist into his left arm, a chilling flash of sword light erupted from a diagonal angle.
The blinding trajectory instantly sliced through Jin Yul's neck.
Splat!
"I knew it."
Heonwon Chang stood over the corpse, whose upper body had collapsed face-down into a puddle. He grabbed a fold of Jin Yul's robe and calmly wiped the blood from his Desolate Fortress sword.
His face was perfectly stoic, showing no trace of the friendly camaraderie he had shared with the now-corpse just moments ago. Jeong Yeon-shin stared at him blankly.
"I was about to handle it."
"Well, my wits are at least as sharp as yours, Young Hero Jeong."
With a grin, Heonwon Chang kicked Jin Yul's severed head.
The moment it splashed into the stream, an ink-like substance began to wash away, dyeing the clear spring water black. From the crown of his head, bright red hair began to reveal itself.
Jeong Yeon-shin cast a brief glance at it and spoke. "He must have been an assassin of the Blood Flame Cult."
"You've become a target. It seems they've taken notice of your heroic deeds and rising fame. Now that you are undeniably an enemy of the Blood Flame Cult, it means you have truly established yourself as a man of the Jianghu. I can't help but be a little envious."
"What about his companions? The ones who claimed to be daughters of the martial arts academy?"
"They must be crossing the Sanzu River by now."
"They were of the same breed," Heonwon Chang muttered.
It seemed they had attempted a sneak attack the moment Jeong Yeon-shin walked away to fetch water.
So this was how grudges in the martial world were forged. A mountain of blades and a forest of swords.
The Mountain of Blades and Forest of Swords. He finally felt that he had stepped into the real Jianghu.
Jeong Yeon-shin's reaction was nonchalant, much like the tone Jin Yul had used just before his assassination attempt.
"We should arrive in half a day."
"Let's make haste."
*
"Yeon-shin. I heard you achieved an absurd feat."
Cheong-myeong spoke with a laugh. A strip of plain cotton cloth was wrapped around his head, covering his left eye.
Even his disheveled appearance could not diminish his striking features and the sharp bridge of his nose. He was a senior who was both deeply appreciated and somehow incredibly annoying.
Jeong Yeon-shin had thought that he and Heonwon Chang were the ones causing the most worry for the Demonlight Wing. Yet Cheong-myeong simply kept grinning.
"Slaying an elder of the Thirteen Heavens. Even I haven't managed that yet."
"It was reckless. It is a relief nothing went wrong."
Baek Mi-ryeo gripped Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulders with her icy hands, her sharp gaze scanning his entire body for injuries.
Standing beside them, Heonwon Chang's expression seemed to scream: Why isn't anyone checking on me?
The four of them sat around the guest room where they had first stayed when contacting the Mount Hua Sect.
"What happened? It seems the Commander isn't here either," Yeon-shin noted.
At Jeong Yeon-shin's question, Baek Mi-ryeo opened her mouth to speak. He noticed that the fingers she used to brush back her hair were paler than usual. It seemed to be the aftereffect of pushing a martial art to its absolute limit.
"Our Commander has set out on a pursuit alongside the Mount Hua Sect's masters, including the Sword Excellence. The Blood Flame Cult operating behind the scenes has been exposed. The situation has taken a drastically different turn. We don't know what they intend to do with the Purple Grace Pills, but it is highly likely that reinforcements will arrive from the main fortress soon."
"What about Senior Cheong-myeong's eye?"
"The Thieving Ghost used a hidden weapon," Baek Mi-ryeo explained. "It happened while he was dealing with three Blood Master Swords. This idiot could have easily dodged it, but unfortunately, there was a civilian home right behind him. He had no choice but to take it head-on and deflect it with his sword."
"What kind of hidden weapon could do that much damage...?"
"A trigger-activated hidden weapon canister from the Sichuan Tang Clan. It's called the Flying-Strike Bomb. Its power is immense."
Though she spoke in a calm, measured tone, her fierce aura did not diminish in the slightest. She seemed incredibly tense, but Cheong-myeong, completely oblivious to her mood, chimed in with a grin.
"I did manage to sever his left wrist, though. Anyway, we'll have to raid the Tang Clan sooner or later. Rumor has it they're secretly manufacturing fire bombs. Shall we make that our next mission?"
It happened in a flash.
Boom!
"There is no next time for you bastards."
An explosion resounded even before the voice finished speaking. Cheong-myeong, who had reacted faster than the blast by grabbing Jeong Yeon-shin and Heonwon Chang by their collars and yanking them to the floor, muttered, "The Commander really isn't doing his job."
Crash!
A barrage of blinding flashes shattered the window and poured inside. It was like a torrential downpour of light sweeping horizontally across the room.
Had they remained seated, they would have been skewered on the spot. Since the lifestyle of the Great Ming Empire favored chairs and tables over sitting on the floor, their upper bodies had been directly in the line of fire.
Baek Mi-ryeo, having already reacted with beast-like instincts, was crouching to prepare a counterattack. However, her eyes widened in shock when she saw Jeong Yeon-shin spring up and leap straight through the shattered window.
He had instantly shaken off Cheong-myeong's grip. As he dashed forward, Jeong Yeon-shin's vision narrowed, locking onto his target.
A middle-aged man of small stature came into view.
What is this? Was their goal not the Purple Grace Pills?
There was more than one powerful aura infiltrating the inn. Baek Mi-ryeo's voice transmission, telling him she would handle the Blood Flame Cult, brushed past his ears.
"A blue robe and white clothes. You must be the Flash Art."
The middle-aged man greeted Jeong Yeon-shin with a smirk. His loose silk sleeves fluttered in the wind. His killing intent radiated outward, making it feel as if his sole purpose in life was to slaughter the masters of the Desolate Fortress.
"Wielding light? That title is far too grand for a mere brat."
One by one, people were starting to recognize him. Was this how fame in the Jianghu was built?
"Are you the Thieving Ghost?"
Jeong Yeon-shin advanced relentlessly, charging like a martial artist who knew absolutely nothing of proper combat distance. He did not even wait for an answer.
Marching straight ahead, he drew his weapon. A faint wave of light from the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style immediately rippled along the length of his blade.