Chapter 367: Peerless Master (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 367: Peerless Master (2)
Silk robes rustled softly over the blades of grass. It was a sound that stood out sharply in the heavy silence.
Examining the traces of martial arts left behind by the Nine Sects, the rising stars doubted their own ears.
Even those who had been glaring murderously at the Five Heroes of Hojeong whipped their heads around.
"The Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress...?"
"I saw the Flash Art at the Hanzhong Martial World Alliance. His build was completely different from that man's."
"And he's much younger."
"Of all the people to lie to, he dares do it before the esteemed elders of Qingcheng and Emei..."
The group of rising stars traveling with the masters of the Nine Sects numbered about a dozen. Every single one of them had mastered internal qi gong, building a stable foundation in the Path of Senses. They were incomparable to rogue cultivators who lacked a proper sect.
Even while their attention was divided, they never withdrew their sense of qi. It was a habit forged on brutal battlefields where such vigilance was the only way to survive.
Naturally, they monitored every single movement of the black-robed youth.
Discomfort quickly brewed among them. The two esteemed elders of the Nine Sects were not people to be spoken down to. Such disrespect damaged the prestige of the entire group, who viewed the Divine Nun of Purple Tenuity and Taoist Cheong-eun as their representatives.
"Fellow Taoists, please bear with him for a moment. This benefactor's presence is extraordinary; his words should not be dismissed as mere lies."
"I agree."
These were the talents destined to lead the Nine Sects in the future.
The Golden Staff Divine Maiden of the Emei Sect and the Red Cloud Dragon of the Qingcheng Sect took no offense at the black-robed youth's tone. After pacifying their companions, they observed Jeong Yeon-shin from behind their elders, their expressions deep and serene.
"The Commander of the Demonlight Wing?" Taoist Cheong-eun repeated, his back to the Red Cloud Dragon. His eyes were clouded with doubt. "Can you take responsibility for those words?"
He had felt a faint yet overwhelmingly powerful wave of qi when Jeong Yeon-shin displayed his movement technique earlier. Naturally, wariness laced his tone.
"Is there a need?"
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly. Is there any reason to drag out this conversation? It's not like we're traveling together.
Sensing his aloofness, the middle-aged Buddhist nun—who had just been brutally beating the men rolling on the ground with her iron staff—pressed her palms together.
"They say even a brush of sleeves on the road is a connection forged in a past life. Yet, it seems you have no particular business with us, Benefactor."
"Our sleeves didn't brush," Jeong Yeon-shin replied casually. Just then—
"The Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons of the Tang Clan...? What in the world!"
"There's no life force in them! They've already passed away...!"
A commotion erupted from the back. It was the rising stars of Sichuan Province, whom the masters of the Nine Sects had been babysitting. They had finally recognized the Tang Clan siblings that Jeong Yeon-shin had laid down in the distance. Those trained in ocular arts muttered in shock at the complete lack of life force.
"I knew it! How dare you pretend to be a warrior of the Desolate Fortress!"
"He might actually be the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. It wouldn't be the first time the Imperial Court's sword struck down martial artists."
The sound of rushing footsteps echoed. Their movements were incredibly swift, utilizing lightness skills as they rushed to seize the corpses of the Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons.
That won't do, Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
A chaotic age had descended upon the world. There was no way these weaklings—who would probably lose a fight to a monkey wielding chopsticks—could safely deliver the bodies of the Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons to the Tang Clan.
"Stop."
He spoke without turning around.
The rising stars immediately snapped back.
"I do not know by what authority you speak so boldly, but even if your claims are true, we cannot allow this."
"Entrust direct descendants of the Eight Families to a warrior of the Desolate Fortress?"
"If anything, you should be interrogated first. You might be the one who murdered them!"
They dashed toward the Tang Clan siblings with rapid, sweeping strides.
Yet, the Divine Nun of Purple Tenuity and Taoist Cheong-eun—who had truly sensed Jeong Yeon-shin's martial prowess—remained rooted in place, keeping their guard raised against him.
The Golden Staff Divine Maiden and the Red Cloud Dragon, both praised as peerless talents of the younger generation, looked troubled as they were caught between the foolish rising stars and their cautious elders.
It was then.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not waste words.
With a face carved from ice, he simply took a step forward.
It was a slow, leisurely movement, as if he were taking a casual stroll. Was it an illusion? A faint starlight seemed to shimmer at the tips of his toes.
Behind the light trailed an afterimage. In an instant, Jeong Yeon-shin's figure blurred and distorted. Simultaneously, the grass that had been leaning toward him violently snapped in the opposite direction.
Whoosh!
The eyes of the four masters from the Nine Sects widened.
The sound of displaced air brushed past their ears, but even before that registered, they realized Jeong Yeon-shin had already passed them.
He was a master. And no ordinary one at that. The Red Cloud Dragon hurriedly whipped his head around. However, a dull thud echoed faster than his gaze could follow.
The rising stars had just reached out toward the bodies of the Tang Clan siblings.
The sight of the leading three losing their balance and collapsing in slow motion burned into his vision.
Passing by them, scattering a faint halo of light, was the black-robed youth. With movements that seemed segmented and disconnected like a shifting constellation, a faint white light crumbled like stardust from Jeong Yeon-shin's fingertips.
When did he?!
It was a divine skill.
He had navigated space with a momentary dance. This was a realm on an entirely different level.
The shockwave of force rising from his hands brushed through the air, scattering a brilliant, stardust-like glow. All the rising stars who had swarmed the siblings were violently flung in every direction like discarded ragdolls.
Right after that dull thud echoed, a heavy silence descended.
The Red Cloud Dragon couldn't even comprehend what form the youth's strike had taken. The seemingly simple movements and palm techniques bizarrely failed to register in his mind.
He realized the reason immediately.
Crazy... the Primordial Pacification Mantra...!
The profound principles contained within the forms were overwhelmingly vast. The movement of a single muscle fiber, the fragments of internal energy sparking into the air like embers—every minute detail moved with deliberate, terrifying intent. All within a mere fraction of a second.
The Red Cloud Dragon glanced to his side.
He saw the Golden Staff Divine Maiden standing there, her lips slightly parted in shock.
Her talent was no less than his own. She must have just experienced the exact same sense of vast, unfathomable distance.
That level of martial prowess at that age. The Blade Marquis of the Peng Family? No, even he would find it hard to match this. There is no one else but the Young Sect Leader of the Ming Cult...
The Small Sword Empress of Diancang, the Golden Staff Divine Maiden of Emei, and the Red Cloud Dragon of Qingcheng.
The three had formed a bond in their childhood, hailed as the peerless geniuses who would lead the next era of the martial world—until they hit a wall. The Small Sword Empress had met hers when she encountered the Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress. Today, at this very moment, the Golden Staff Divine Maiden and the Red Cloud Dragon met theirs.
As the eyes of the two rising stars of the Nine Sects sank into heavy solemnity...
Swoosh.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly turned around. Soon after, the shockwave of the Law-Transcending Halo Qi lingering on his hands vanished without a trace.
"This is a divine sword forged for me by the Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons."
He slowly rested his hand on the silver hilt at his waist.
"Do not interfere. Repaying my debt comes first."
The eyes of the Nine Sects' martial artists, including the conscious rising stars, briefly locked onto the hilt of the divine sword. Unconcerned, Jeong Yeon-shin continued.
"Where exactly are we?"
"...This is Chodam Road in Deyang," the Divine Nun of Purple Tenuity suddenly answered, having been staring at him blankly.
She was the martial aunt of the Golden Staff Divine Maiden. Jeong Yeon-shin glanced briefly at her iron staff, shaking his head inwardly, but felt relieved nonetheless.
Deyang was not far from the Tang Clan.
He knew there was a fairly large town further down the road. If he headed there, he could buy coffins and a cart.
He couldn't keep carrying the siblings' bodies under his arms. It was no way to treat the deceased who had done him such a massive favor.
"You are going to the Tang Clan...?" Taoist Cheong-eun asked.
Nodding vaguely, Jeong Yeon-shin carefully lifted the siblings and tucked them under his arms.
The rising stars sprawled across the grass could only watch him blankly.
Step.
As he turned and began to walk, the pale light of the setting sun illuminated the character Hwang (荒) embroidered on his shoulder.
Watching Jeong Yeon-shin's retreating back, the Golden Staff Divine Maiden and the Red Cloud Dragon spoke.
"Let us follow him."
"We must confirm this with our own eyes, after all."
The middle-aged elders sensed a volatile mix of indignation and passion in their voices.
It was the fierce competitive spirit a martial artist feels toward a peer of the same age. The Divine Nun of Purple Tenuity and Taoist Cheong-eun nodded silently.
As elders of their respective sects, they couldn't blame their juniors for harboring such an absurd competitive spirit.
Besides, they had to visit the Tang Clan anyway. A major event had occurred.
* * *
A massive manor stood with towering walls stretching endlessly to the left and right.
Sunlight poured over the fortress-like walls—a symbol of power and wealth rare in the lands of Sichuan—but the serene image was shattered by continuous, deafening roars that sounded like exploding Thunderbolt Bombs.
With heavy, dull thuds, the earth was violently overturned, sending dirt and debris shooting high into the air.
The Tang Clan.
The home of Sichuan's greatest local aristocrats had long since been reduced to a brutal battlefield by the Great Sect War.
"That spot is open!"
"Watch out for the poison caltrops! Don't just rely on lightness skills, push your body protection qi to its absolute limit...!"
"The flank has been breached! Block them!"
Countless martial artists leaped and darted in all directions. Figures too numerous to count clashed and separated in a chaotic blur.
Amidst the carnage, shockwaves of force from their heavy collisions erupted in sweeping waves, sending shattered roof tiles raining down on the combatants below.
The Tang Clan was built with its back against a towering cliff.
So Il-su, a white-ranked warrior of the Desolate Fortress's Sichuan branch, broke out in a cold sweat. He clung like a spider to the cliff face overlooking the manor.
Although he had mastered the Gecko Technique—allowing him to remain in this position for half a day without strain—looking down at the sheer scale of the battlefield below made his soul feel as if it were fleeing his body.
Auras surged like razor-sharp blades. The aftershocks of explosive force pressed against his skin as they rose through the air.
He could see extremely powerful martial artists traversing the manor at such incredible speeds that their figures blurred into afterimages.
So Il-su swallowed hard. Sweat pooled in his palms, which were firmly anchored to the cliff face with true qi.
The Tenth Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, Lingering Spirit, and even the subordinate sects that surrendered to them... This is insane. The Branch Head should have come here himself...!
Although skirmishes had been breaking out sporadically across the entire martial world recently, a full-scale assault on one of the pillars of the Eight Families was a different matter entirely.
This could no longer be viewed as a mere clash between martial artists. After all, this was the Tang Clan.
The Sichuan Tang Clan was one of the few among the Eight Families that maintained a relatively good relationship with the Desolate Fortress. They worked together to maintain public order in the Sichuan martial world.
A great sect that did not exploit others despite possessing immense power, and cooperated reasonably well with the Desolate Fortress.
Among the myriad factions of the martial world, places like the Tang Clan were incredibly rare. Even more so within Sichuan.
For the Desolate Fortress, which was perpetually short-handed, they were like sweet rain during a drought.
They could not be allowed to fall, yet it seemed they were on the verge of total annihilation. At least, that was how it looked to So Il-su.
"Go in! Push forward!"
"The dead bastards over there inhaled all the poison mist! There's no need to circulate your qi!"
At the main gate of the Tang Clan, men stepped over scattered corpses, their faces pale and bruised.
The Nine Poisons Formation, said to turn the entrance of the Tang Clan into the underworld itself, had long since exhausted its power after turning the martial artists of the Tenth Sect's subordinate sects into lonely ghosts.
The path leading to the massive front yard was no different.
Even though the Silent Dragon Nine-Nine Formation—a mechanism formation consisting of bundles of poisoned long needles—had triggered from beneath the ground and impaled dozens of men, the martial artists of the Heterodox Sects simply trod upon the corpses as if they were shields. They roamed the Tang Clan as if it were their own home.
But the true nightmare lay elsewhere.
"We share the ties of yesteryears, yet is the Tang Clan Leader still confined to his sickbed?!"
An old man stood with a white beard fluttering like that of a Taoist immortal.
Wearing dark green handguards glistening with lethal poison, he didn't even spare a glance at the surrounding Tang Clan warriors. He simply stood in place, casually snapping his fingers every now and then.
Every time he did, streaks of pitch-black smoke were etched into the air. It was pure finger force.
It burned away the green mist generated by the Tang Clan's poison formation, the Ghost King Spirit, before vanishing. Occasionally, the bodies of the Tang Clan warriors caught in those strikes burst apart with a wet, sickening splat.
It was a realm where immense power was wielded at will. A scene that transcended the mortal world.
He was the new Pure Demon Alliance Leader.
He was the master of the former Pure Demon Alliance Leader, who had met his end after a fierce battle of a thousand clashes against the Young Sect Leader of the Ming Cult.
Originally, he had retired from the front lines as the Head of the Elder Council due to the severe side effects of his demonic arts. However, rumors were rampant that upon hearing of his disciple's defeat and death, he had broken through to the realm of Demon Transcendence.
That old monster just won't die. He alone is a walking disaster to the mortal world...
So Il-su carefully rolled his eyes. There was another target below who had to be classified as an absolute top-tier threat.
A man clad in thin white armor.
Much like the new Pure Demon Alliance Leader, he was surrounded by Tang Clan warriors. Yet, at first glance, he didn't appear to have trained in martial arts at all.
His presence was utterly tranquil. This was a terrifying contradiction, considering he was a peerless master who had mastered the greatest variety of weapons in the world to the absolute pinnacle.
The Lord of the Tenth Sect...!
He held a sword in his left hand and a saber in his right. He thrust into the empty air with the sword, and every time he swung the great saber, the very atmosphere surged violently.
The explosive force generated by his weapons was powerful enough to cause localized earthquakes.
With a single sweeping motion, he shattered the bodies of dozens of Tang Clan warriors who had been shrouding themselves in blue lightning through the Heavenly Thunderstorm Formation.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, crash!
The Taoists of the Qingcheng Sect and the nuns of the Emei Sect faltered and retreated. It was the moment a cataclysmic shift occurred on the front line, which had managed to hold out for days thanks to the support of the two Nine Sects.
The Tang Clan won't be destroyed immediately, So Il-su thought.
For some reason, the Heterodox Sects of Sichuan merely continued to slowly tighten the noose around the Tang Clan's neck.
It was as if they were waiting for something. If not for that hesitation, the Tang Clan would have been wiped out long ago.
Still, I must report this immediately. So many ultimate formations have already been breached...
Thud.
He pressed his hand against the cliff face, trying his absolute best not to make a sound.
"What are you?"
"Ugh...!"
In an instant, So Il-su's breath hitched. His body froze in the exact posture of the Gecko Technique, clinging to the stone wall like a petrified spider.
A chilling sensation crawled down the back of his neck. He could barely even roll his eyes to look.
An old man was standing in the empty air right behind him.
His snow-white beard was neatly kept, reaching below his solar plexus. Pure black sparks constantly crackled over his navy-blue robe, which was adorned with a splendid landscape painting.
The terrifying sight suited the smiling old man's demeanor perfectly.
"A fairly decent presence, yet such absurd spying... Are you a lackey of the Desolate Fortress?" the old Pure Demon Alliance Leader asked slowly. In his pitch-black eyes, a light like the flames of the abyss flared. He didn't even bother hiding his stifling energy.
So Il-su could not answer.
He merely trembled, the cold sweat on his neck feeling like shards of ice. The sheer weight of the presence pressing against his skin was suffocating.
This was an opponent impossible to face. That was exactly why he was called a peerless master.
Inwardly, So Il-su cursed Jang Il-do, the Giju Branch Head of the Desolate Fortress, without end.
No matter how many earth-shattering events have been happening lately, did you really have to send me to a hellhole like this?!
The old Pure Demon Alliance Leader smiled.
His low, rumbling voice sounded like King Yama calling from the underworld.
It was then.
Squeak—
The faint sound of rolling wheels echoed with peculiar clarity over the din of battle.
Over by the distant main gate of the Tang Clan.
A youth clad in an elegant black robe slowly crossed the threshold, pulling an extremely shabby cart behind him.