Chapter 331: Grandfather and Grandson (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 331: Grandfather and Grandson (4)
The wave of internal power from the Heavenly Demon Divine Armor vanished in an instant. The Moyong Clan Head, sensing the strange atmosphere between the grandfather and grandson, had immediately withdrawn his power.
Jeong Yeon-shin's clear, unwavering gaze seemed to particularly unsettle him.
“……”
Many eyes were fixed on the desolate clearing at the summit.
Among them were dozens of Killing Gate members posing as local elites from the great city of Taiyuan, the prodigies of the Demonlight Wing, and even the former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
All of them watched the confrontation between the Commander of the Demonlight Wing and the Moyong Clan Head, their faces a mixture of expressions.
Anxiety, shock, doubt—a torrent of emotions from the crowd flowed into Jeong Yeon-shin's upper Dantian. They watched from every vantage point—hanging from the cliffs, standing in the far corners of the clearing, or positioned halfway up the slope.
'I must surpass him here.'
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't care about the Moyong Clan Head's demeanor.
A faint warmth emanated from the Northern Light in his right hand. The same was true for the halo of his heart, which began to spin slowly.
The words the clan leader had spat at the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress grated on him—the man had babbled about completely ripping out Heonwon Chang's Eight Extraordinary Meridians.
“How vulgar.”
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing spoke directly to the face of one of the Eight Clan Leaders.
“To behave so disgracefully at your age.”
The words had left his mouth before he could stop them.
Far off on the slope, a figure in pink robes flinched, but Jeong Yeon-shin paid them no mind. He confronted the Moyong Clan Head, his eyes flashing with a deep blue light.
Translucent, colorless petals flickered in and out of existence before his eyes. He was carefully controlling the activation of the Ultimate Lightning, conserving its power for a prolonged fight.
At the same time, he measured the sword sphere of the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord.
The intangible wave of energy grazing his skin, the vibrating atmosphere, the perfect balance of the Moyong Clan Head's stance, the way he held his sword—all of it wove together to form an invisible domain.
In Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes, a space composed of countless trajectories became visible.
The domain radiated out from Moyong Jung-rak, already covering a thirty-zhang radius. It was a declaration of his perfection as a swordsman.
Everyone in the Jianghu knew of the Moyong Clan Head.
Jeong Yeon-shin ran through the martial arts he had accumulated.
'How effective will they be against him?'
It had already begun. A battle against one of the Eight Clan Leaders.
“Your eye technique is extraordinary.”
Moyong Jung-rak met Jeong Yeon-shin's blue-tinged gaze.
A sly smile, befitting a great aristocrat, played on his lips as he adjusted his grip on his sword. With every minute shift of his fingers, the shape of the surrounding shockwave changed.
The airflow between his thumb and index finger, once swift, grew heavy and dense. It was completely under his command.
He was clearly testing Jeong Yeon-shin's discernment, and there was no telling how many profound truths of the sword he had mastered.
“Liaodong is a harsh land,” Moyong Jung-rak said.
“It's nothing like comfortable places such as Huguang. It is an extremely unforgiving land. The swordsmen born there, who form our Mountain of Blades and Forest of Swords, carry the fierce temperament of the North. It is a land that someone who has never lost their country could never hope to endure.”
He was speaking in roundabout terms, as if exchanging veiled letters through speech.
His meaning was clear: a sword from the sheltered lands of Huguang could never withstand the fierce temperament of Liaodong, where he was born and raised.
In truth, his attention was focused on Ma Yeon-jeok. He was merely provoking Jeong Yeon-shin while keeping an eye on the stronger opponent. It was obvious to anyone watching.
The Moyong Clan.
A martial family settled east of the Liao River. They claimed the Moyong Xianbei clan as their ancestors—descendants of the royal family of the Yan Dynasty, which had fallen long before the Brightfolk ever appeared in the world.
Their Meteor Sword, which carried their deep-seated sorrow, was famous for being the roughest among the ultimate sword techniques of the Eight Great Families.
Jeong Yeon-shin's head tilted slightly to the side.
“Isn't it just an ancient, fallen kingdom?”
“...The words and deeds of those without roots are always the same. Even if you carry the bloodline of the Desolate Ma Clan, you are no different.”
Moyong Jung-rak raised his sword. The hem of his white robe lifted slightly as a fierce wind whipped around them.
A cold sensation brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin's face. This was different from his battle with Jegal Cheon.
This wasn't a chaotic, sudden clash like that time. This was a one-on-one duel to the death, a clash of sword spheres against the leader of one of the Eight Great Families.
That was why, at this very moment, the palm of his right hand, gripping the Northern Light, was channeling more halo Qi than ever before.
'Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style.'
Jeong Yeon-shin awakened the acupoints throughout his body.
His muscles contracted and relaxed in a subtle rhythm, a starting stance for full-body Fa Jin that was invisible to the naked eye.
But the Moyong Clan Head seemed to notice. His gaze sharpened, growing intensely focused on Jeong Yeon-shin.
The famed sword of the Moyong Clan flashed with a chilling light.
He's coming straight for me, he realized instantly.
Jeong Yeon-shin pushed off with his right foot. A powerful gust erupted from his feet—the Wind God Movement Technique. His figure merged into the transparent wind blowing across the summit.
In the blink of an eye, Moyong Jung-rak’s torso filled his vision. The man had closed a distance of three zhang in an instant, just as Jeong Yeon-shin fully activated the Ultimate Lightning.
Swaaaaak—!
A fierce wind wrapped around the Northern Light as he slashed upward. The mnemonic of Qilin's Judgment transformed even a simple slash into a blindingly fast strike.
Tyrannical momentum was contained within a single, clean sword path, as graceful as the Azure Qilin itself.
Clang!
Moyong Jung-rak brought his sword hilt crashing down on the Northern Light.
It was an elegant, yet powerful, defensive move—as if he were hammering down with the pommel of his sword.
In that brief moment, a heavy vibration radiated outward. A long shadow fell over Jeong Yeon-shin's face as he raised his eyebrows, and a deep voice followed.
“Black Star Hidden Advance.”
The words were muttered so rapidly they were shaped only by the movement of his lips.
Moyong Jung-rak had announced the name of his stance. Since everyone present already knew who he was, it could only be a mockery.
It was a way to save face while fighting the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, a man vastly inferior to him in both age and reputation.
The falling shockwave from his sword was incredibly fierce, enough to whip Jeong Yeon-shin's hair into a frenzy.
It was a single stance—striking down with the hilt while simultaneously dropping the blade—yet the Moyong Clan Head generated a world-shaking Fa Jin with just a small movement of his arm.
Jeong Yeon-shin unleashed the second form of the Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style, slashing upward as he retreated. From his thumb, which firmly supported the hilt, the counter-stance Nine Azure Rivers erupted.
Claaaaang!
A tremendous shock dug into his palm. The opponent's sword force tore the flesh of his thumb and shot all the way down to his feet, stopping his retreat dead in its tracks.
The ground beneath his leather boots cracked and sank with a harsh groan. As Jeong Yeon-shin's eye level dropped, the translucent lotus of the Ultimate Lightning surrounding him flickered once.
Through that gap, the Moyong Clan Head's voice rang out.
“You actually endured that. It feels like facing the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring.”
The voice came from high above Jeong Yeon-shin's head, as did the words that followed.
“How about the Great Star Sword Rain?”
Before the words had even faded, Moyong Jung-rak unleashed his second stance. The sky itself seemed to ripple as a vast, transparent shockwave spread from his sword, blanketing the air.
Unlike Jeong Yeon-shin, who used his entire body as a weapon, the Moyong Clan Head used his sword—a mere piece of iron—as a medium for an internal energy art that bordered on the ultimate.
Meteor Sword Technique, Great Star Sword Rain.
Saaaaaa—
The air hissed, like sheets of paper rubbing together. An immense, sharp energy descended as invisible swords began to fall from the sky.
There were dozens of them. With each passing moment, they drew closer to the ground, their power amplifying. For a split second, the very sunlight seemed to warp around them.
The intent embedded in the stance was clear: Your movement is decent. Let's see you evade this.
This was no longer the attainment of a mere mortal; the boundary between martial arts and sorcery had blurred. This was truly the peerless realm.
With a smooth motion, Jeong Yeon-shin brought the Northern Light to his left shoulder, covering the joint with the flat of the blade.
“Hmm?”
Just as Moyong Jung-rak, his sword held high, let out a sound of doubt...
A faint tremor ran through the ground beneath Jeong Yeon-shin's feet. In the next instant, his body blurred, carving a faint trajectory of light straight through the air.
Moyong Jung-rak's eyes widened. This was no ordinary lightness skill.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing appeared right in front of him and rammed into him with his sword-covered shoulder. It was an elegant yet violent strike, like a charging comet.
Kabaaaaang!
Moyong Jung-rak was blown off the cliff just as a massive shockwave exploded in a circle from where he had been standing.
The ground on the summit crumbled, the sound of violently crushed stone chasing after the two figures.
The battlefield shifted to the air.
Flipping his body in midair, the Moyong Clan Head stepped on empty air, using the art of Void Stepping.
“That brat.”
His eyes narrowed. The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who had just delivered a monstrously heavy blow, was now sprinting along the cliff face, kicking off it to propel himself forward.
A faint haze of light spread from his toes, painting the cliff face pale. It was an auspicious sight, as if he were tracing a constellation across the vast ridge.
Behind him, the ground rumbled.
The edge of the summit where they had just stood shattered into pieces under the Great Star Sword Rain. The dry earth could not withstand the invisible blades pouring down like rain.
Boulders tumbled into the abyss with a deafening roar.
'My eyes didn't deceive me,' Moyong Jung-rak thought. The problem was the stance the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had just used.
It resembled the ancient method of the Condensed Radiance Art. The ultimate technique the Leader of the Deep Martial Alliance had trained his entire life to master had just been manifested through the Commander's sword-reinforced shoulder.
It was a technique that combined offense and defense, aiming to kill two birds with one stone.
If the Commander had been clad in a divine-art-class Body Protection Qi, Moyong Jung-rak would have likely suffered internal injuries even if he had blocked with his sword. He wouldn't have gotten away with just being pushed back.
“I admit I underestimated you.”
At his age, he was already worthy of being compared to the Dragon Fist of the North or the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring, Bukgung-a. His talent might even rival that of the Ming Cult Leader, the Heaven-Smiling Invincible.
This meant he would almost certainly grow into a peerless martial artist who could stand beside the Lord of the Desolate Fortress—and in a very short time, at that.
He was a sprout that had to be cut down now.
He couldn't afford to hold back out of concern for the martial artist suspected to be the Hegemon Hero. He had to go all out. He was on the verge of perfecting the martial arts that would reclaim the glory of the Yan Dynasty.
If he could cut down this brilliant young genius and then clash swords with the one who tore off the arm of the Deep Martial Alliance's Leader, he would be able to fully internalize all the insights he had accumulated.
Moyong Jung-rak's pitch-black eyebrows furrowed into a straight line.
Meteor Sword. Casting Calamity, Advancing Flash Thunder.
His figure, which had been standing on empty air, blurred and vanished completely.
He had been watching the sprinting Commander, and in the next moment, he transformed into a dark blue streak of light, reappearing directly in his path.
Jeong Yeon-shin, still running along the cliff, instantly stamped his foot to a halt. His reaction speed was like a flash of light. The cliff face crumbled with a loud crunch as his long hair was whipped back by the sudden stop.
The shockwave of internal power radiating from Moyong Jung-rak, who had appeared out of nowhere, was immense. The trajectory of his thrusting sword was far faster than Jeong Yeon-shin's hand could ever hope to be.
Kabaaaaang!
His vision went completely white.
He could see nothing, as if he'd been struck by lightning. If it affected him this much even with the Sight of the Lowly active, the Moyong Clan Head must be just as blind.
But the searing pain of his palm being torn apart was his alone to bear, along with the dull, hollow sensation of the Northern Light's blade snapping in two...