Chapter 330: Grandfather and Grandson (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 330: Grandfather and Grandson (3)
An expert’s forms reveal a great deal. Even a single exchange is telling.
The direction of their movements, the tautness of their muscles, the depth of their breathing, the very nature of their true qi—all are clues. Anyone with decent experience in the Jianghu can tell at a glance whether their opponent is a swift swordsman or a heavy blade wielder. For those trained in eye techniques, seeing through an opponent is even easier.
But peerless experts are different.
With a simple swift sword, they can create variations like an illusion art. A peerless master of the heavy fist, capable of shattering a hill with a single strike, must also be proficient in the gentle Harmony Realm, if only to disperse the recoil that wracks their own body. It was said that Ju Gwang-singae, the Chief of the Beggar Sect whose lightness skill was the swiftest under heaven, could generate earth-shaking power with just a few kicks.
This meant that unless one engaged in a deep exchange of blows, it was difficult to discern their true signature technique.
The martial art the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance had just witnessed from the uninvited guest felt like a signature technique, one honed over a lifetime. The first strike was a technique that layered the force of fa jin, similar to the Wudang Sect's Ten Stages of Brocade—a martial art where each successive blow was several times more powerful than the last. He had assumed the man was skilled in techniques that relied on overlapping shockwaves.
No martial artist could exert such power with a discipline that wasn't their specialty. Unless one was an old master of advanced years, it was difficult to possess deep expertise in so many profound principles. He believed that if a continuous chain of attacks was required to unleash full power, his peerless senses would allow him to withstand the first blow.
And based on the techniques directed at him, he had every reason to think so.
He was protected by ten layers of the Radiant Divine Armor, a peerless body protection qi. He had wrapped himself in a storm of ancient shockwaves from the Condensed Radiance Art. The body of the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance was a natural disaster in itself—the perfect counter to overlapping martial arts like the Ten Stages of Brocade. As the force of fa jin accumulated, he could crush it layer by layer.
This was why, while rushing toward the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, he had allowed the uninvited guest who had caught up from the side to graze his skin. He had intended to shatter the kneecaps of the one called the Lotus Nezha of the Desolate Fortress first.
But perhaps it was because he had focused all his attention on the boy who had briefly revealed an incomprehensible presence.
He had failed to consider rejuvenation—an incredibly rare phenomenon.
The uninvited guest's martial arts could not be measured by the standards of the Ten Stages of Brocade.
'The pinnacle of the Tyrannical Way…!'
It was a discipline that disregarded the safety of one's own body to load an immense amount of true qi into a single strike.
In an instant, a blue-tinted hand utterly crushed his body protection qi and ancient shockwaves, digging deep. There was no time to redirect it. Had he faced the attack head-on, he would not have been defeated so miserably.
Rumble—
The powerful wave of energy emanating from the Alliance Leader’s shoulder abruptly faded—just after his arm was torn away, socket and all. His body protection qi shattered, his acupoints and vessels devastated. A massive torrent of crimson blood gushed forth.
Time seemed to slow.
Jeong Yeon-shin and the Moyong Clan Head, who had been clashing swords at the peak, momentarily stepped back from each other.
"That Gun fellow…?"
Moyong Jung-rak's eyebrows shot up, his face a mask of bizarre shock. A faint confusion flickered in his eyes as he looked between Ma Yeon-jeok and the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance. Yet, a silver glint of excitement and competitive spirit also lingered there, creating an unsettling sight.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave a brief nod toward the space behind the Alliance Leader's ruined shoulder, then calmly adjusted his grip on his sword. Though deeply grateful, keeping the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord in check came first.
Meanwhile.
The corners of Monarch Martial Emperor Gun Wi-hu's mouth twitched slightly. Even his taciturn face could not remain unaffected by the agony of having a limb torn away along with its acupoints. One monster had finally broken the composure of another.
He briefly wondered why the man had layered his fa jin at first. It had been a single strike that seemed to forcibly suppress the very lifeblood of its victims, turning them to corpses in an instant.
"Filthy."
The voice came from the side of the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance. The hem of a splendid robe fluttered. It was a color devoid of any particular elegance—a garish pink, exceedingly rare under heaven.
"You lowly swordsmen of the Jianghu."
Step.
Ma Yeon-jeok took a step to the side, casually tossing the arm he held to the ground. A muscular limb, ripped out bone and all, rolled away with a thud. The blood spurting from the wound failed to touch the Hegemon Hero's heavy, evasive footwork. His robe remained pristine, even after unleashing such a monstrously powerful blow.
"So ridiculously arrogant."
His tone carried a seasoned contempt, the attitude of someone who refused to associate with the people of the Jianghu. His bearing exuded an arrogance greater than that of any martial world aristocrat.
"The leader of a great sect? Nothing but rabble. You shake the foundations of the nation while enjoying its civilization. You threaten the livelihoods of the common people, and you good-for-nothings don't even pay taxes."
"You are…"
A colorless light gathered in the eyes of the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance, Gun Wi-hu. It flickered like a wavering flame. The unstable flow of his internal energy was showing in his eyes; just maintaining the Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak must have been consuming a significant amount of his mental energy.
Ma Yeon-jeok spoke, his face indifferent.
"You at least contribute to the northern front, so live out the rest of your days in your ruined state."
The one listening was a peerless expert—in other words, a madman of martial arts. He was the kind of man who would rather his opponent declare their sect and name before taking his head in a single stroke.
Gun Wi-hu's gaze intensified, burning with a furious aura. "The Hidden Sword of the Desolate Fortress… Was there another martial artist like the Hegemon Hero of yesteryear?"
Despite the excruciating pain he had to be in, his voice did not tremble. It was almost a monologue, tinged with an attempt to probe for information.
"Foolish fellow."
The corners of Ma Yeon-jeok's mouth curled up.
"No such person exists in the Jianghu."
"..."
The Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance fell silent. The white fur coat that had been swaying violently behind him suddenly grew still. The light in his eyes, which had been shaking like a turbulent wave, died down, and his pitch-black pupils returned to normal. The blood that had been gushing from his shoulder gradually stopped, as if he had staunched the bleeding with his internal energy.
"I…"
The Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance raised his left arm. Just as Shaolin monks clasped their hands, Gun Wi-hu formed a fist-and-palm salute using only his left hand. His bearing was disciplined.
"I have committed a discourtesy."
"...!"
The martial arts army below the slope, which had been on the verge of charging up, hesitated. A stir rippled through their ranks.
The Lord of the Thirteen Heavens, the Monarch Martial Emperor, the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance—all the noble titles used to refer to Gun Wi-hu became meaningless here. He had not only conceded defeat but had even bowed his head. It was an event as shocking as the creation of heaven and earth.
Yet, the man who had ripped off his arm continued to defy all conventions.
"Quietly focus on raising your army."
"...It shall be so."
After a brief reply, the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance slowly turned around, accepting the command without protest.
The acupoints of a martial artist form a microcosm with fixed laws, much like the universe itself. A peerless expert has usually surpassed the Great Heavenly Cycle of the upper body and reached the realm of full-body circulation. In such a system, the loss of a limb was directly linked to a massive decline in martial power.
Now, even if a powerful individual were to break into the Deep Martial Alliance alone and charge the Alliance Leader, there would be few ways to stop them. He had no choice but to lie low. The moment he caused trouble for the nation again, his head might be taken by a rising star newly clad in a purple robe.
Step.
The Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance walked down the mountain slope, an unstable wave of energy flowing from him. The sound of his footsteps breaking the silence echoed dismally. The back of the peerless expert who had vied for the top of the world sank lower and lower, like the setting sun. He had met an unexpected natural disaster, like any other martial artist dying alone in a deserted forest, leaning against a tree.
Such was the landscape of the Jianghu.
"..."
The mounted warriors waiting below surrounded the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance. None of them dared to look up at Ma Yeon-jeok. They merely shielded their lord with the sound of their horses' hooves. The experts of the Thirteen Heavens, who had always carried themselves as the strong, now cast their eyes down.
Clop, clop.
They gradually moved away, unable to bear the pressure of the unseen character, 'Hwang'.
Only Gun Yurin, who glanced at the one-armed Jeon Baek and Jeong Yeon-shin with a strange expression, walked a little slower than the rest.
—I have been utterly defeated, both in the present and in the future.
The Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance's deep murmur quickly faded, his voice seeming to hide in the gap between the ending winter and the approaching spring.
Breaking the silence, a voice like a cheerful song echoed.
"The present must be that Hege… Great Hero, and the future is obviously our Commander! How could that scoundrel of an eldest son and that princess, whose very existence is uncertain, compare to the Lotus Nezha! He must be filled with regret. A true warrior's hand should be heavy."
The voice came from just below the peak. Someone had been clinging to the sheer cliff using the Gecko Technique. Having blurted out his thoughts the moment the storm passed, he scrambled up the cliff face. He was near where Jeong Yeon-shin and the Moyong Clan Head stood.
The moment the Hero's Headband wrapped around his forehead peeked over the edge, the sword of the serious-faced Moyong Jung-rak suddenly moved. An icy, sharp trajectory aimed straight for Heonwon Chang.
Clang—!
A flash of light from two clashing swords swept brightly in all directions. The ground shook from the delayed, formless shockwave. The precious sword of the Moyong Clan Head had crossed with the Northern Light Sword of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
The two ends of Heonwon Chang's Hero's Headband fluttered wildly as he poked his head up. At first glance, his face looked terrified, but his eyes were incredibly calm. Moyong Jung-rak, looking down at him, smiled faintly.
"That is a face one only sees in a well-structured sect. The disciples trust their leader."
"..."
"Commander of the Demonlight Wing. You keep up quite well. It seems that lotus can be turned on and off like a lantern?" he asked, genuinely curious. While Ma Yeon-jeok had been confronting the Alliance Leader, Jeong Yeon-shin had temporarily let the Ultimate Lightning subside.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke slowly. "Keep your sword straight."
His tone was a demand, not something a mere unit commander should say to one of the Eight Clan Heads. It was a challenge to the Jianghu's unspoken hierarchy, a declaration that martial power, not status, would decide their standing.
The Moyong Clan Head's smile deepened. "Incredible. Isn't this a checkmate?"
As he spoke, his gaze drifted to where Ma Yeon-jeok stood with his arms arrogantly crossed. Anyone would have done the same. The Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance had been reduced to such a state; it was a troublesome situation even for an absolute authority like one of the Eight Clan Heads.
"Moyong child, this old man will not interfere," Ma Yeon-jeok said nonchalantly. "Focus all your energy on showing off your meager sword talent."
Moyong Jung-rak didn't seem to be listening. "Could it be… No, how with the Harmonious Bloom Divine Art? No divine art should be able to withstand the aftermath of that Hegemon Art..."
While he muttered to himself, Heonwon Chang crawled up the cliff along with two others.
"I intend to witness this moment clearly, compose a line of poetry, and spread it far and wide! It's about time the Demonlight Wing set its sights on the Divine Sword Squad. Look at how much time our Commander has invested…"
"You chatter well for someone who almost died," a disdainful voice cut in. "If you show any sign of becoming a burden, know that your life will end by my hand. Just stand aside quietly."
"No, was that because of Senior Great Tongue Sword just now? There's a limit to trusting the Commander!"
Dark blue sleeves and clean white hems brushed against the ground. Lazy Flame Dragon and Shin So-bin had arrived. The eldest son of the Hwangbo Clan wore an expression of utter disdain for Heonwon Chang, while the heir to the Desolate Shin Clan looked reproachfully at her senior. They stepped back, careful not to interfere with their Commander.
"You people don't understand," Heonwon Chang insisted as he and the others moved quietly behind Jeong Yeon-shin. "Do you think wearing a purple robe immediately makes one the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps? A reputation that strikes fear across the Jianghu comes first! And what better way to spread rumors than a song? A piece of writing with credible descriptions is what draws attention."
Just as he finished speaking—
Whoosh—!
Shadows surged up from below, their energy waves incredibly sharp. Dozens of figures with suppressed presences kicked off the cliff and soared upward.
Their appearances were diverse: a renowned local scholar, a great merchant who led logistics in the city of Taiyuan, a shabbily dressed swordsman from a third-rate family, even a waiter reeking of tavern food.
The Midday Moon Great Slaughter Gate.
Those who had been scattered across various regions with hidden identities had returned. Clinging to the cliff edges on all sides, they focused their gazes on a single spot. An icy killing intent was directed entirely at the Moyong Clan Head—the enemy of their sect.
"Right, I had forgotten for a moment."
Slide.
Moyong Jung-rak's sword slid back along the Northern Light Sword. Drawing his blade back, the anomaly of the Meteor Sword Technique spoke.
"The final mnemonic of the Heavenly Demon Divine Armor must be with you lot."
From all around the cliff walls, accusations bordering on screams erupted.
"You greedy bastard!"
"How dare you! How dare you utter such nonsense to our faces…!"
"Was what happened that day not enough? Even if I must drag you down to hell with me, I will take your head!"
"Elders, restrain yourselves! He is alone! Hone your sword qi!"
"Insolent fools who couldn't even withstand a single strike of the Commander's fa jin," Moyong Jung-rak sneered, glancing at Jeong Yeon-shin. Perhaps he believed that with his lightness skill, he could escape even Ma Yeon-jeok. Perhaps one of the secret manuals he obtained from the Tomb of the Heavenly Demon was a Body Protection Scripture.
Such confidence radiated from him as his elegant white robes fluttered. It remained even as Jeong Yeon-shin's body began to be completely enveloped in a transparent lotus, humming with low energy.
"Now that I think about it, I remember. You. Yes, you. The child of the Geum family."
The peerless swordsman's gaze shifted past Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder, fixing clearly on Heonwon Chang. Heonwon Chang's shoulder flinched involuntarily as their eyes met.
"The scholars of my clan were soft. I ordered them to tear out all of your Eight Extraordinary Meridians to find traces of the Heavenly Demon lineage, but they lost you while focusing on a mere handful of spirit medicine. I considered punishing them, but decided against it."
Sssss—
A haze rose from the entire body of the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord, Moyong Jung-rak. An airflow tinged with scattered dark blue light began to envelop him. At first glance, it looked like a Taoist immortal's robe fashioned from a strange mist.
"In any case, my body protection qi is on the verge of completion."
The moment he finished speaking.
Hummm—!
The atmosphere rippled in monochrome. It was a shockwave of mysterious spiritual energy, emanating constantly from the Moyong Clan Head's body.
In an instant, five or six members of the Slaughter Gate clinging to the cliff fell straight down, their eyes wide open in a dead faint.
As utter chaos erupted among the Slaughter Gate, the waves of internal power rolling in like tides parted before Jeong Yeon-shin, like a demonic army powerless before the Tathagata.
Ma Yeon-jeok, standing on the slope below, was even more unaffected. The overflowing wave of energy shattered like sea foam the moment it reached him. Only the pink sleeves of his robe, fluttering as his arms remained crossed, were vivid against the chaos.
"..."
Moyong Jung-rak suddenly fell silent.