Chapter 344: Ranking Battle (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 344: Ranking Battle (5)
On the vast martial duel stage, three Unit Commanders were gradually closing the distance between one another.
This was the very same arena where promotion ceremonies were held.
Across from them sat a luxurious viewing gallery, offering a clear, unobstructed view of the stage. Although a large awning cast a long shadow over it, the distinct, pale white of the marble remained vivid.
The texture of the stone was so rare and exquisite that it made the rank and status of those sitting leisurely upon it feel tangibly real.
"How will it turn out?"
The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
Sitting with her legs crossed, Ak Su-rim tapped the toe of her smooth leather shoe.
Her eyes, looking down at the standoff between the three Unit Commanders, held a look of satisfaction. With her spear carelessly cast aside at her feet, she cut the figure of a carefree young girl.
"I put the three of them together to get it over with quickly, but Netherflow has no intention of moving. How sly," she said.
Sitting beside her, Un So-yu, Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, responded.
"He likely wants to observe the movements of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. The Netherflow Unit Commander's Body Protection Scripture is considered one of the finest even within the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall, is it not? He has never allowed a single speck of dust to touch him, no matter the chaos."
"Searing Abyss will be disappointed. She focused her training on actual combat rather than infiltration."
The Thread-Annihilation Unit Commander and the Searing Abyss Unit Commander had departed on a mission while still in the middle of developing their own respective versions of the Radiant Wing Third Step.
Their task was to resolve an incident in Qinghai, located between Xinjiang and Sichuan. It was a mission to annihilate a Jianghu sect that had used martial arts to establish a cult.
A massive fog rolling out of Xinjiang, followed by years of consecutive famine.
Many took advantage of these troubled times to deceive the public, coaxing the common folk into offering up their wealth.
"I found Searing Abyss's footwork suited my feet better. It almost makes me feel like one of the Brightfolk. The one Thread-Annihilation made was far too rough."
"The Searing Abyss Unit Commander did show immense interest in the Radiant Wing Step. Unlike the Netherflow Unit Commander over there..."
Un So-yu trailed off. She kept her gaze fixed on the duel stage below, maintaining a perfectly straight posture. She seemed to find Ak Su-rim somewhat bothersome.
Feeling slightly self-conscious, Ak Su-rim averted her gaze.
"Why is the Grand Steward acting like that? Anyone would think he just returned from the Ice Palace."
"...I am waiting for the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring to draw the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's sword."
Grand Steward Im Jin-myeong, who had been sitting as still as a bear, spoke slowly.
"I must announce it the moment it happens, but right now, I simply cannot bring myself to believe it... Of course, Unit Commander Jeong is not one to speak falsehoods, but this is no ordinary matter... From Shanxi to Xiangyang, the time it would take for the Netherflow Unit warriors to deliver the news..."
He was practically rambling. It was clear he wasn't truly listening to Ak Su-rim.
The way he repeatedly wiped his face with his massive hands was a far cry from his usual sharp, intelligent self. She raised an eyebrow and glanced in the opposite direction.
Seated there was the eldest son of the Prince, who had come from the royal estate.
Duke of Sword Might Ju Cheol. His rigidly straight back gave him a dignified air.
Throughout the meeting that had gathered the leadership of the Desolate Fortress, he had raised his voice, demanding the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall's decision. Yet, ever since Jeong Yeon-shin had crashed through the roof, he had been keeping a low profile.
However, no one let their guard down. There was no telling what schemes lay hidden behind his sly, serpent-like facade.
"In my opinion," Ju Cheol suddenly spoke up, "this should not be viewed merely as an event to boost morale."
Ak Su-rim, having no desire to converse with him, quickly averted her gaze. But a precious royal scion never begged for another's attention.
Without taking his eyes off Jeong Yeon-shin's profile as the youth took a step forward on the stage, Ju Cheol slowly stroked the beard beneath his chin.
The Duke of Sword Might had spent the past day thoroughly reviewing all of Jeong Yeon-shin's past deeds.
From his actual age and the speed of his martial advancement to the achievements he had relentlessly accumulated since entering the fortress.
"As far as I know, the seventeen Black Ranks are like a fortress wall to the warriors of the Desolate Fortress. Though they may occasionally crumble under heavy fire, they are vast and the thickest under heaven..."
Even though no one responded, he continued on his own.
"I heard that when the Flash Art, Commander of the Demonlight Wing, first rose to the rank of Unit Commander, there was quite a stir among the other martial units, excluding the Demonlight Wing. After all, the age of the person leading the elite forces of the world's greatest sect—who could even execute high-ranking officials depending on the circumstances—was barely past fifteen. It was only thanks to the incident at the City of Master Craftsmen in Sichuan and his qualities as a Grandmaster that there wasn't any major uproar."
Ju Cheol's speech gradually quickened.
As the distance between the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing closed to within five paces, his voice reached a speed where only the Unit Commanders could decipher it through lip-reading.
"Then, what will it be like when that young man sheds his black robe? Furthermore, what about when he sets his sights on the position of Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, who oversees all the martial units?"
He had touched upon the most sensitive topic for the masters of the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall.
The Purple Rank. It was bound to instantly draw the attention of those seated in the high gallery.
"By all appearances, he seems poised to make a name for himself as a peerless expert before he even reaches twenty. Yet, for someone who has been with the sect for less than five years to become one of the highest-ranking figures of a historic organization? There is no such precedent anywhere in the world. Especially not in a place steeped in tradition like the Desolate Fortress. Can the proud precious swords of the imperial family truly accept that youth's martial prowess as authority? And what of the Elder's Council, who are just as stubborn as the old men of the Nine Sects hidden deep in the mountains? Especially now, when even the good-natured Elder Council Head has stepped down."
"...Duke of Sword Might, I wonder what your true intentions are with these words."
"Ah, Grand Steward. What I mean is that this event can also be viewed through a political lens. How rare is this? A duel between Unit Commanders taking place, and being able to witness it with our own eyes."
"..."
"You must have intended this deep down as well, Grand Steward. This is an opportunity for the experts of the Desolate Fortress to rank the seventeen Unit Commanders. No matter how much a clash of only their Body Protection Scriptures differs from actual martial prowess, to those watching from below, it will seem practically the same."
A stage where multiple Unit Commanders tested their martial arts in full view of the public.
There were six Black Ranks present.
Such an event was hard to come by in these troubled times. When would such a number gather again? Perhaps this would be the last time for the next ten years.
Unless a full mobilization order for the seventeen units of the Divine Sword Corps—something that had occurred only once since the founding of the nation—were to be issued today.
"No matter what personnel changes occur within the Black Rank hierarchy in the future, this event will be spoken of alongside them. Perhaps the youngest member of the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall will completely shatter any resistance that might arise from the Desolate Fortress warriors down the line. After all, isn't the origin of the footwork currently popular throughout this fortress those very legs?"
Ju Cheol gestured downward with his chin, his face expressionless.
"I wonder what kind of faces those high officials and merchant leaders will make—the ones who aligned themselves with the Three Black Strengths in anticipation of the sweet rewards that would trickle down from the next Commander of the Divine Sword Corps."
Before long, the two Unit Commanders, whose sleeves had brushed against each other, were reflected in his eyes. None of the high-ranking figures of the Desolate Fortress seated in the gallery raised any objection.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin and Bukgung-a.
With a loud, splintering crack, the massive duel stage shook. The stone floor shattered beneath the single step each of them took.
Jeong Yeon-shin spun, using his forearm to deflect Bukgung-a's hand as she reached out to tear open his collar.
The moment their pitch-black sleeves brushed against each other, a shockwave rippled out as if tearing the very air apart.
End this in ten exchanges. No consecutive strikes of more than two moves, and disrupt the opponent's posture using only the Body Protection Scripture and Grappling Techniques.
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the rules of the bet riding on this mission. They were to clash using only their hands and feet, and the outcome would be left to the vote of the three Black Ranks watching from above.
This meant that even if he deliberately delayed his strikes like the Netherflow Unit Commander hovering at the edge of his vision, the seniors would take it into consideration before making their decision.
He did not want to yield. Even though he respected his seniors.
I must give it my all.
It was a mark of respect for those who had departed to face the Young Sect Leader of the Ming Cult and had yet to return.
Because they were fellow disciples under the same roof, walking the same perilous Jianghu. He also wanted to give Baek Mi-ryeo a chance to see her sibling's grave.
"The origin is indeed different," Bukgung-a said, her voice laced with amusement as their bodies crossed.
"There are no limits to your directions. It seems you truly use that arrogant mnemonic exactly as it is written."
"An arrogant mnemonic...?"
Jeong Yeon-shin could not refute her. Though he disagreed entirely in his heart, the Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring, Senior Bukgung, was a noble soul who had looked into the very abyss of the world.
How could he debate character with someone who was as universally benevolent as Confucius and Mencius? He could only swallow his inner frustration.
This was the first time such a thing had happened since the harsh words of his niece, Jeong Hye. Deeply shaken, he gave a small nod and spun the Halo Qi of his heart to calm his mind.
"...I will come at you again immediately."
"You're different from the rumors. I thought you'd talk back at least once."
Why was he so docile? Bukgung-a's brow twitched as she prepared her next move.
—I thank you, Senior Bukgung. My eyes have been opened to true character.
She thought as she shifted her stance. He wasn't being sarcastic?
There was virtually no fellow Black Rank who got along well with Bukgung-a.
The Lord of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring was someone who would spit harsh words even at Hahu Wi-jin, whose age made him practically untouchable. Though they might feel a bare minimum of affection as fellow disciples, no one could treat her warmly.
Likewise, she did not crave anyone's warmth. As long as the Northern God of War remained alive, there was no way she could rest her mind and body in peace.
What does it matter? Bukgung-a quickly dismissed the thought.
"I have no interest in that corpse. Let's exchange another blow."
She spoke to the unpredictable Commander of the Demonlight Wing, gesturing with her eyes toward one side.
Jeong Yeon-shin's gaze followed her look. There was another completely unfamiliar aura.
The Netherflow Unit Commander. He was a strange figure, his body wrapped tightly in gray bandages and draped in a black robe. His lean yet solid physique was the only clue that he was a man.
He merely stood there like a statue, uttering not a single word.
After giving a silent bow to the Netherflow Unit Commander, Jeong Yeon-shin turned his attention back. Bukgung-a was approaching, the corners of her mouth curving upward.
As she moved, she strangely disrupted the intangible aura Jeong Yeon-shin had spread with his Radiant Wing Step, as if she had grasped many things from their very first exchange.
At her feet, a pale wave of internal power was drawing a massive, circular ripple.
Woong— Woooong—
The resonance of her internal energy was intense. Her steps continued, building up to a decisive stride.
She was going to take a massive, pivoting step right in front of Jeong Yeon-shin. Striking from an angle that would catch him off guard, she would unravel the force of his Fa Jin using her own Radiant Wing Step.
Then, she would use Grappling Techniques to undo his collar or draw his sword.
Even so, Jeong Yeon-shin, who was famous for his versatile use of fist, palm, and sword techniques, could not abandon his pride and leave his sword behind.
Even if Bukgung-a, a master of strikes and kicks, carried no weapon of her own.
Though it is a footwork technique restricted to six directions... she is spreading her aura in advance to strengthen her propulsion shockwaves.
Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
He had seen a similar martial principle before. It was a technique he had recently taken up as a subject of contemplation—one that bore a striking resemblance to the Sword Sphere of the Moyong Clan Head.
Senior Bukgung utilizes space as well. No wonder they say she is eyeing the next Purple Rank.
The currents of wind extending from Bukgung-a's long legs surged, occupying the six directions.
A terrifying pressure. It felt as though small, translucent dragons were running wild. An arrogant intent emanated from her, suggesting she had no need to utilize the entire space.
To Jeong Yeon-shin, however, it felt incredibly gentle. To think there were truly only six directions.
"...?"
While Bukgung-a flinched, sensing boundless respect in her junior's gaze through her Upper Dantian, Jeong Yeon-shin concentrated his Halo Qi into the Yongquan point on the sole of his foot.
He felt the stream of internal power coursing down his thigh muscle grow burning hot.
Today, on this very stage, he had to show that he surpassed all the Black Ranks. After all, the brilliant martial attainment of his seniors would not fade, regardless of the outcome.
Once more, he slowly took a step forward.
Boom—!
A heavy stomp.
Cracks spread in all directions as stone fragments, large and small, shot into the air. In that incredibly brief instant, the propulsion delivered from his heel to his calf was stronger than ever before.
This was because his meridians, along with his limbs, had lengthened like a divine sword. The power accumulated within his acupoints swirled with an intensity incomparable to the past.
As he leaned slightly forward and extended his hand, a heavy recoil washed over him. A wild gale poured forth as if the air itself were screaming. Bukgung-a, who had closed the distance in a single stride to fill his vision, curled her lips upward.
Her expression said she had expected at least this much. At the same time, the pale current of shockwave rising from her feet swept back Jeong Yeon-shin's bangs.
Whoosh!
In an instant, the black front of Bukgung-a's robe receded. Only her black hair, tied back in a single ponytail, brushed past her pale chin as it whipped forward.
The moment she drew near, she leaned her upper body backward. Her opposite foot swept upward, tearing through the air with a sound like a Thunderbolt Bomb.
An incredibly fierce kicking form was unleashed toward Jeong Yeon-shin's outstretched hand.
Crash!
A shockwave rippled out alongside a spectacular mid-air flip. It was an immense wave of internal power, strong enough to momentarily blur the surroundings.
The aftermath was powerful enough to easily pass for a clash between members of the Three Black Strengths. Yet, the wind currents occupying the six directions around Bukgung-a did not subside in the slightest.
The currents boosting her steps seemed practically engraved into the space itself. It was a realm of pure will and sensation.
Folding the leg that had clashed with Jeong Yeon-shin's hand as she landed, Bukgung-a immediately leaped forward again.
The wind currents around her surged violently.
The meaning behind her movements was clear.
The waves of internal power residing in the six directions layered propulsion onto Bukgung-a's body as she faithfully followed their paths, binding her opponent's movements with her newly accelerated speed.
Fwoosh—!
She blurred before Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes, only to reappear at his side as if she had used the Earth-Shrinking Art.
It was a consecutive form of the Radiant Wing Third Step and Fourth Step. She had finely segmented every movement, manifesting the subtle principles of Silk-Reeling Power, stomping, fist qi, and Inch Power through her limbs and the Mingmen point on her lower back.
With Jeong Yeon-shin—who saw through every single one of those subtleties—at the center, the crescent-shaped shockwave she unleashed exploded with a loud bang.
It was a martial principle of the highest order.
Even the wave of internal power lingering between Jeong Yeon-shin's heel and the ground was shattered to pieces. It sounded like a thick stack of paper being ripped apart all at once.
She had deprived him of even the chance to properly execute his footwork. Bukgung-a had created a momentary Thunder Prison through her Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak, which had reached its absolute limit.
No noticeable counterattack occurred.
Not until she instantly grabbed her junior's sword and drew it upward.
Shring—
Sunlight cascaded down the blade like starlight.
An exceptionally brilliant white light. The blade, which looked as though a nebula dotted across the night sky had been carved directly onto it, was reflected in Bukgung-a's eyes. It was an object she could not possibly fail to recognize.
The Meteor Sword of the Moyong Clan Head, the Star-Brilliance Great Sword Lord.
Her eyes widening, Bukgung-a could not savor her victory. Neither those seated in the high gallery above the stage nor the Blue and White-Ranked warriors standing below uttered a single sound.
Rustle.
Untied, Bukgung-a's hair fell like ebony.
The hem of the black robe that had wrapped around her upper body now lay draped at the feet of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. It was held in his hand, looking like armor shattered on a northern battlefield.
The Radiant Wing Fifth Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin had torn open time itself.