Chapter 339: The Tyrannical Way (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 339: The Tyrannical Way (4)
The Desolate Fortress's promotion ceremonies were held under the personal supervision of the Fortress Lord.
It was akin to the palace examination of the civil service exam, overseen by the Emperor himself. This was true for everyone from the Blue Ranks upward, meaning a Purple Rank Promotion could not even be discussed in the absence of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
Regardless of the Hegemon Hero's venerable reputation, even he could not disrupt the sect's absolute laws.
This was why the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing could refuse the robe offered by the former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. The color was simply too burdensome. He much preferred his current, plain black attire.
It was the robe gifted to him by the Gongya Clan's Grand Lady after his original uniform had been torn to shreds by the Jegal Clan Leader.
The corners of Ma Yeon-jeok's mouth curled upward.
The pink robe held in the youthful elder's hands looked exceptionally brilliant today—a result of the technique he had just performed, which had gathered the night sky's starlight like a spool of glowing yarn.
"Five Qi Converging to the Origin, Unified Martial Transcendence. Once you fully integrate the martial arts you've created thus far, your perspective will change. Though I suspect you'll don the purple robe long before then... let us postpone this for now."
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been quietly watching him drape the robe over his shoulders again, spoke up.
"When will I see you again?"
He asked because his grandfather was clearly preparing to depart.
Ma Yeon-jeok had just given him a brief rundown of the Jianghu at the level of the Purple Ranks. He had called it a pandemonium. From the sound of it, they traveled the land confronting the Strange, Violent, Chaotic, and Supernatural—entities that had appeared alongside the Brightfolk during the empire's founding.
Considering he had traveled such a vast distance upon hearing of his grandson's peril, despite having little time to spare, it was only right for him to return as quickly as possible.
Ma Yeon-jeok patted his grandson's shoulder. Tap, tap. A warm, gentle energy flowed from his large hand.
"This old man cannot interfere in your journey through the Jianghu again. While I will exert my strength from afar to aid your promotion and extend your lifespan, I cannot turn a blind eye to the safety of the world and simply withdraw. This grandfather of yours has always been the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. Even after handing over the Sword of Divine Attainment to that Dragon Clan bastard, and even after sending my daughter away..."
He left the implication hanging: he had a mountain of unfinished business.
Trailing off for a moment, he withdrew his hand from Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder.
"We will meet again when you, Yeon-shin, ascend to the Purple Rank and take on a duty similar to mine. It is exceptionally rare for a task to require two peerless experts... but in chaotic times like these, one never knows what might happen."
"Then we shall meet again soon."
Just as the proud grandfather and grandson shared a warm smile...
Wuuuung—
The distorted space suddenly snapped back to its original state.
The mandala-like patterns of light unraveled and faded away. A crisp breeze swept through the night sky, dispelling the oppressive atmosphere that had felt like a cage of iron bars.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared intently at the fading light. He realized he needed to experience the profound realms of more peerless experts.
Unified Martial Transcendence.
An intent that seamlessly encompassed every single move in one's arsenal.
Unless a martial artist's realm was exceptionally profound, it was a decisive ultimate technique that would be difficult to unleash even once during a life-and-death duel.
The Moyong Clan Head's Sword Sphere, for instance, was a technique that drastically boosted the speed of the sword. Yet, he had only been able to manifest that domain after a lengthy exchange of blows. By Jeong Yeon-shin's count, it had happened on the three hundred and twenty-fifth move.
"Your Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak will truly not take long," Ma Yeon-jeok said. "Even now, I can clearly feel the constant cycle of your Unity and its release."
Rustle.
The hem of the pink robe brushed against the dirt as Ma Yeon-jeok rose to his feet.
"Eat as much as you can. Marrow Cleansing and Bone Rebirth is a truly peculiar transformation. While it bolsters the body's fundamental vitality, it also severely drains one's immediate energy. If you put on a bit of weight, your Essence, Qi, and Spirit will naturally align. Seeing your hollowed cheeks, Yeon-shin, makes my heart ache. It is a relief that your muscles have grown thicker... though reflecting on it, the change is still quite astonishing."
Jeong Yeon-shin, standing up beside him, quickly changed the subject out of embarrassment.
"Those wild boars you caught... are they all for me?"
Ma Yeon-jeok nodded.
"I wished to see you undergo your promotion ceremony. Unfortunately, the timing does not permit it. At the very least, put on some weight to ease this old man's mind. You learned how to smoke meat from your uncle, didn't you?"
"...Yes."
"If you fill out your cheeks a bit more, you will become a peerless beauty. Taking after your mother, your looks will rival even Song Ok and Ban..."
Unable to bring himself to finish saying the name "Ban-ak," Ma Yeon-jeok turned around. Song Ok and Ban-ak were legendary handsome men of ancient times, often cited in historical anecdotes.
"I wish you good health until we meet again. Since you have decapitated two of the Eight Clan Leaders, the warriors of the Main Fortress must be eagerly awaiting your return. They couldn't care less how much the Jianghu shakes because of your actions."
Jeong Yeon-shin bowed deeply.
The late winter wind carried a surprising warmth. The moment he silently wished his grandfather a safe journey, Ma Yeon-jeok's presence soared into the sky, accompanied by a booming laugh.
A sudden gust of wind swept past, gently ruffling Jeong Yeon-shin's hair.
* * *
As Jeong Yeon-shin walked back down to the village, familiar faces came into view.
It was the swordsman wearing the Hero's Headband and the poppy-chewing scoundrel.
They were locked in a tense standoff against a black-haired, red-eyed woman who had stood up at some point. However, the only one who actually looked relaxed was the Seventh Apostle.
Her shoulders sloped elegantly, casually draped in a bright red Pure Blood Robe.
There was no trace of any shockwave or energy flow radiating from her. Wrapped snugly in her robe as if it were a blanket, she looked far from serious.
She merely observed the aggressive energy waves of Heonwon Chang and the Lazy Flame Dragon with her crimson eyes, a thin, red smile playing on her lips.
Suddenly, her lips parted. I am deeper.
It was a statement whose underlying meaning anyone could grasp. She had accurately measured and compared their martial achievements with just a brief glance.
The Vast Art Formula and the Mara True-Blood Art. Both were profound martial arts that originated from a single source.
Stepping forward, Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head in thought. Why is she pretty?
"Commander!"
Shin So-bin, who had been hovering anxiously to the side, cried out. Meeting Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes, the girl's face brightened, and she waved her hand enthusiastically.
As a mere White-Ranked Warrior, this standoff was far beyond a situation she could handle.
"You have to do something about this!"
In a flash, Jeong Yeon-shin's body cut through the air.
Step.
With a sharp flutter of his sleeves, he positioned himself directly between the two opposing sides. He used his own body to disperse the scorching winds generated by Heonwon Chang and the Lazy Flame Dragon.
The translucent currents of air tore upward with a loud roar.
They've grown heavier.
Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed a small gasp of admiration. Although his pant cuffs—which now rode up to his calves due to his sudden growth—were somewhat bothersome, the sheer pressure generated by his two companions' energy waves commanded his attention.
They had been through a lot. The experts of the Demonlight Wing were constantly pushing themselves, desperately chasing after their Commander's soaring achievements.
"It's only been a few days, but I'm having trouble adjusting. I almost didn't recognize you."
Seeing Jeong Yeon-shin unharmed, Heonwon Chang let out a breath and relaxed his stance, his face showing clear relief.
It had been impossible to discern the Commander's condition within that strangely distorted space earlier. Furthermore, the very woman who had once kidnapped Jeong Yeon-shin was now calmly standing before them. They had no choice but to be on high alert.
"I just got here. White Cat was trying to tell me something, but how could I have the time to listen with a monster like that right in front of me?"
Standing askew, the Lazy Flame Dragon spoke in his usual slurred drawl. Having just confirmed the Commander's safety, the rhythmic movement of his jaw chewing on the poppy slowed down.
"As you know, she is the Seventh Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult," Jeong Yeon-shin said. "She saved the Demonlight Wing at the City of Master Craftsmen. She will be accompanying us to the Main Fortress."
"What did you just say...?"
The Lazy Flame Dragon blinked in disbelief. Jeong Yeon-shin paid no mind to the poppy addict's dumbfounded expression.
"I need to cure her Qi Deviation, but there is no time right now. Cooperate with me in repaying this debt."
He did not offer any lengthy explanations.
The Desolate Fortress was a sect structured much like a military organization.
Although the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing rarely treated his companions as mere subordinates, the experts of the Demonlight Wing never questioned his ultimate decisions.
The same applied to the Lazy Flame Dragon, who only ever showed his sharp edges when entering battle.
"If it's an order, I must follow."
The scoundrel, who had once been the esteemed eldest son of the Hwangbo Clan, nodded nonchalantly.
The Eight Great Families, regardless of their worldly ambitions, had always proudly claimed to belong to the Orthodox Factions.
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been mentally preparing a list of arguments to persuade him, felt a touch of surprise. Had the time they spent bleeding together, combined with his own soaring martial prowess, truly blossomed into absolute trust?
"Is she safe to be around?" Heonwon Chang asked.
"The Seventh Apostle is a novice. She only appears as an expert to you. Don't worry."
"A novice...?"
"There's no need to forage for food. We are returning to the Main Fortress," Jeong Yeon-shin announced, glancing at the three massive wild boars lying nearby. "Seventh Apostle, blindfold yourself."
"Okay."
With a soft rustle, the Seventh Apostle pulled a white cloth from her robe and obediently covered her eyes. She was so incredibly docile that it was hard to reconcile this behavior with her past, bloody deeds.
As soon as the Blood-Preserving Golden Silk Scarf—a precious Dharma Treasure of the Blood Flame Cult—wrapped around her eyes, the erratic, sinister energy waves characteristic of her Blood Art vanished without a trace.
Staring at her, Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly spoke, testing the waters.
"The final mnemonic of the Mara True-Blood Art is..."
"Hmm? Grand Preceptor, we haven't even started yet. Why skip to the final one? The only one I remember is the first mnemonic."
She claimed she had received the first mnemonic despite insisting they hadn't even started.
The Seventh Apostle's rambling was smooth, yet laced with an undeniable hint of mild madness. Jeong Yeon-shin couldn't help but ask.
"You've regained your senses, haven't you?"
"Huh?"
As her faint, breathy reply settled into the cool night air, he found he could not interrogate her further.
Or rather, he simply chose not to.
* * *
The journey south to Huguang, where the Main Fortress of the Desolate Fortress was located, was a long one.
There were countless bustling cities they had to pass through before finally reaching Xiangyang. Naturally, a deluge of rumors reached their ears along the way.
"I heard the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord is dead."
"Are you talking about one of the Eight Clan Leaders? That's absurd."
"No, it's true! You know that young noble of the Desolate Fortress? There are rampant rumors that the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing utterly blew away the Meteor Sword."
"Wait, the same one who supposedly executed the Jegal Clan Leader...?"
"Yes, him!"
While the shocking news of the Moyong Clan Head's death spread rapidly by word of mouth, shaking the vast Central Plains, other massive events were unfolding. It was said that the intensifying conflict between the Tang Clan and the Golden Wing Sect was rocking the entirety of Sichuan.
This news came alongside wild rumors that Great Monk Wonjeok of the Shaolin Temple had slain a terrifying monster near the Gongya Clan in Shanxi.
"Great Monk Wonjeok's hand grew as massive as a boulder, and he shattered the monster's spears and swords in a single, heaven-shaking blow! I saw with my own eyes the soldiers of the Deep Martial Alliance getting caught up in the disaster alongside it!"
"I heard Great Hero White Qilin has been highly active in the south... As expected, the masters from the Orthodox Factions are simply on another level."
"Bah, the only ones who are truly different are the Nine Sects and the Desolate Fortress. In some remote villages, martial families pretending to be Orthodox have outright seized the government offices. You can't trust anyone these days. If you have any grain hoarded away, keep a close eye on it."
"A massive, unnatural fog has risen in Xinjiang and is creeping all the way toward Sichuan. I don't know what this world is coming to..."
Amidst the chaotic flood of rumors, Jeong Yeon-shin was at least able to confirm Great Monk Wonjeok's safety.
It was a profound relief. Before his life-and-death confrontation with the Moyong Clan Head, he had slipped a squirrel, along with a Purple Grace Pill, into Shin So-bin's robes. His heart had felt heavy with guilt every time the little creature poked its head out and tilted it in confusion.
I'll have to visit the Shaolin Temple someday to properly return Galhon.
The rumors, painting a vivid picture of these chaotic times, continued endlessly until the party of five finally entered Xiangyang.
The official paved roads were packed with bustling crowds.
Warriors bearing the character 'Hwang' embroidered proudly on their shoulders began to appear here and there. Seeing them, Jeong Yeon-shin's mind settled into a comfortable, deeply rooted calm.
It was a profound sense of stability, utterly incomparable to what he had felt in Xinye County, where the Jeong Family Manor had once stood. He had finally returned home.
In the distance, a colossal, pure white fortress came into view.
They had arrived at the Main Fortress of the Desolate Fortress. It marked the true end of their grueling journey to Shanxi.
"Grand Preceptor."
"Don't call me that here."
"Yeon... shin. Yeon-shin."
"Speak."
"Something just came back to me. I think I cut off someone's arm. Right around here."
"What?"
"It might cause some trouble for you. It was a woman named Ju."
"Ju Yeon-jeong of the Desolate Ma Clan?"
"Yes, I think that's right. I heard she treated you poorly in the past."
The blindfolded Seventh Apostle's hair brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder as he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
It wasn't her shocking confession that halted him, however. A strange, powerful wave of internal energy was rippling outward from the Main Fortress. It was the distinct energy signature of the Radiant Wing Step.
At that exact moment.
Someone began approaching them.
It was a woman with exceptionally long, sturdy limbs. The civilian passersby, who had previously been stealing curious glances at Heonwon Chang and the Lazy Flame Dragon, instantly scattered with sharp cries of alarm.
"Dragon Fist...?"
"It's the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring!"
She had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, as if she had been hawkishly watching the main gate of the Desolate Fortress all day.
The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring, Bukgung-a.
She wore an incredibly lavish black robe. Its hem was split into several long trails resembling formal ceremonial attire, fluttering in the air behind her like black flames—a truly striking sight.
Her ink-colored martial uniform, tightly wrapping her exceptionally long legs, was covered in minor tears and scuffs, as if she had just emerged from a fierce, prolonged battle.
The steps she took as she approached them were highly peculiar.
Step.
"...?"
The movement was both intimately familiar yet strangely foreign to Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes. It was like watching a bizarrely distorted variation of the Radiant Wing Step.
The woman parted her lips, her gaze sweeping over them.
"Judging by your posture, you have also mastered the Radiant Wing Step. Especially you," she said, pointing directly at Jeong Yeon-shin. "It is genuinely surprising that I cannot feel your energy wave at all... Are you from the Netherflow Unit, or perhaps the Bloodkeeper Unit? It seems those bats have been raising a hidden dragon in secret."
She spoke bluntly, completely bypassing any pleasantries. Jeong Yeon-shin's party stood frozen in their tracks.
"Let us compare our footwork. If you can keep up with me for just three steps, I shall reward you with a precious healing pill. If your journey has been exhausting and you require rest first, I can understand—"
The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring babbled on, completely failing to recognize him.
Jeong Yeon-shin listened no further. Maintaining a perfectly expressionless face, he inwardly plummeted into deep, profound despair.