Chapter 371: The Festival
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 371: The Festival
Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes.
'Are they really from the Nine Sects?'
The Tang Clan siblings had just been laid to rest on the mountain peak. Regardless of their reasons, this was no place to be discussing challenge letters.
Beside him, Tang Un-hwang's silent exhalations were growing longer.
It was the internal breathing cycle of the Original Three Yang Art, a technique that harbored three deadly poisons within the practitioner's body. Though Tang Un-hwang treated Jeong Yeon-shin with exceptional courtesy, the Tang Clan was infamous for being fiercely exclusive and cold-blooded.
"The Emei Sect Leader, is it? Benefactor, you truly stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the heads of the great sects now," Tang Un-hwang said, a faint smile gracing his gaunt face.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight shake of his head.
He focused his hearing. His five senses were preternaturally sharp—a result of his innate talent, the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, and his Bone Rebirth.
He could effectively replicate the Thousand-Mile Earth-Listening Art, a tracking technique usually reserved for a sect's elite pursuit squads. This was made possible by the minute traces of Law-Transcending Halo Qi constantly gathered at the Ermen Point near his ears.
Faint whispers drifted up from below. It was a conversation between the rising stars of the Nine Sects.
"I wondered what he was talking about, but his conduct is simply too much."
"Pardon?"
"It's not as if the Taoist scriptures lack worldly manners... Is it because he only trained in the mountains?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean he's behaving insolently. It would have been much better to make a quiet plea."
"He was merely conveying his desperation. Meanwhile, you, Small Sword Empress, did nothing..."
"Enough. Do not speak another word."
With those final words, the distance between the two groups closed. Soon, Jeong Yeon-shin locked eyes with the three individuals looking up at him.
Two were familiar faces: a young Taoist priest and an elegant Buddhist nun. They were the Red Cloud Dragon of the Qingcheng Sect and the Golden Staff Divine Maiden of the Emei Sect.
In the center stood a woman carrying an ink-colored precious sword. She wore softly creased vermilion silk light armor that suited her splendidly.
Pitch-black hair cascaded past her waist, and an aura as sharp as a honed blade emanated from her very being. She was truly worthy of her title as the first disciple of the Diancang Sect, one of the Nine Sects.
"Greetings to Great Hero Tang, the Tang Clan Leader, and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. I am Chwi So-ok of the Diancang Sect."
Her movements were disciplined as she raised her hands in a formal martial salute.
Though her slightly drooping eyes gave her a gentle appearance, very few in the Jianghu would dare look down on Chwi So-ok once they learned her identity. In Sichuan—a region that paid far less heed to the imperial court than the rest of the empire—she was widely acclaimed as a genius destined to become a sovereign of the sword.
"This is our first meeting since the Hanzhong Martial World Alliance, is it not?" Chwi So-ok asked, lowering her clasped hands.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight nod.
He felt a strange sense of incongruity. He had met the Small Sword Empress before, but her current demeanor was excessively polite compared to their first encounter. She was treating him with the exact same level of respect she showed the Tang Clan Leader.
'She is still young. Has she matured?'
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin was about to brush it off, Chwi So-ok suddenly bowed her head.
"I had no intention of bringing up a challenge letter during a time of mourning. First, I offer my deepest apologies to the Tang Clan. And, of course, to the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who must have held the deceased in high regard..."
"It must be an urgent matter," Tang Un-hwang muttered curtly.
To Jeong Yeon-shin, the Clan Leader's voice sounded devoid of energy, but a brief tremor passed over the faces of the three rising stars of the Nine Sects. It was a subtle reaction, yet it offered a glimpse into the terrifying martial prowess and prestige commanded by the leader of one of the Eight Great Families.
Only then did the Red Cloud Dragon seem to realize his earlier indiscretion. Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck, but the attention of those present had long since drifted away from him.
"Do you have business with my benefactor?" Tang Un-hwang asked.
"It is a matter I hope you will listen to as well, Clan Leader. Though, of course, the message from Abbess Baekyak of the Emei Sect must be delivered directly to the Commander of the Demonlight Wing."
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head in thought.
"You certainly meddle in many things. I believe the nun standing over there is a disciple of the Emei Sect," he said, glancing at the Golden Staff Divine Maiden standing silently behind the Small Sword Empress.
Chwi So-ok's eyes curved slightly. For a brief moment, a faint smile graced her lips.
"The Hanzhong Martial World Alliance met its demise because of the late Jegal Clan Leader. It has long since fractured completely. I am currently drawing a different picture alongside those I share connections with. It was quite a struggle to earn the trust of Qingcheng and Emei. The main issue was that the Successor of the Beggar Sect proved to be a major nuisance..."
"I am not interested," Jeong Yeon-shin replied flatly.
Swoosh.
As if expecting nothing less, the Small Sword Empress nodded nonchalantly and pulled a letter from her robes. It was a document bound with elegant, antique silk thread.
"In truth, I would also like to take my time to pay my respects to the deceased, but Sichuan is currently in a state of absolute chaos. A single quarter-hour wasted by the two of you is worth a thousand pieces of gold to others."
Chwi So-ok continued, looking back and forth between Jeong Yeon-shin and the Tang Clan Leader.
"The Tang Clan wasn't the only faction attacked. It has been confirmed that in addition to the three great sects of the Thirteen Heavens originally established in Sichuan, two or three more have infiltrated the region. If you include the single-successor lineages and other minor sects under their banner, there are easily over a hundred and twenty factions. Every single one of them is busy wreaking havoc."
"Havoc?" Jeong Yeon-shin repeated.
"Since the famine has spread even to this basin, the actions of the heterodox sects are entirely predictable. Plundering is commonplace. They raid nearby rival sects or align themselves with the Thirteen Heavens to stab the orthodox sects in the back. They treat the commoners like mere ledgers they can squeeze dry at any given moment."
The currents of a chaotic age.
It was a shift Jeong Yeon-shin had sensed the moment he emerged from the Flood Dragon's formation. There were very few places left untouched by battle.
Chwi So-ok tapped her palm with the rolled-up document, a gesture tinged with heavy emotion.
"Lately, such news has become strangely quiet, but who knows? It might just be the calm before the storm."
She went on to explain in detail how various armed factions were vying for power across Sichuan, backed by the Hegemon Sword Sect, Lingering Spirit, and yet another faction of the Thirteen Heavens. She added that as the chaos deepened, it would inevitably draw in martial artists from outside Sichuan as well.
"So, I came up with a small, yet grand scheme," Chwi So-ok said. "The Commander of the Demonlight Wing, who is hailed as the sword of the common people and possesses martial prowess rivaling the Heaven-Smiling Invincible. And Abbess Baekyak of the Emei Sect, who is revered as the incarnation of Maitreya. The plan is for the two of you—the strongest among those who hold benevolence toward the commoners of Sichuan today—to display your martial might before the eyes of the public."
That was the true purpose of the challenge letter.
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head. "Too weak."
"Pardon?"
"Do you even know how to write a decent line or two?"
If only she were even half as good as the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress, he muttered to himself.
* * *
Mount Emei, Sichuan.
Beneath the tranquil sunlight piercing through the verdant mountain range, acrid smoke drifted from the peak.
The pristine, spiritual atmosphere unique to the famous mountain was fading away. The air was filled only with the loud crackling of sparks and the popping of ash, dark red embers glowing amidst the destruction.
Even the temple nestled deep within the peak lay in ruins. Both the inner and outer courtyards had been utterly devastated.
At the entrance of the temple, several dozen martial artists carrying swords, staffs, spears, harpoons, and other exotic weapons made their presence known.
Some stood on the edges of the temple hall's roof, while others sat casually on the bloodstained ground, circulating their qi in meditation.
A man with a severed arm, a woman with crushed ribs, an old man coughing up blood... though barely any of them were in decent shape, an incredibly wild and fierce aura emanated from them.
It was the undeniable temperament of veteran hunters.
"Where is the Left Protector?"
"Do you mean the Left Protector of our sect—the Golden Wing Sect?"
"Who else would I mean? I've disliked him ever since he stood at the mountain gate with his hands clasped behind his back. You, on the other hand, seem far too dull to be a messenger of Lingering Spirit."
"I only asked because you spoke of the title so casually. The Left Protector of the Hegemon Sword Sect recently achieved a great feat and has been making a name for himself across the land."
"Don't make me laugh. Doesn't your Lingering Spirit look down on our sect's actions? You act as if we are your puppets."
"I apologize if I have offended you."
"Ha!"
The old man with a great saber strapped to his back—the Iron Helmet Divine Blade Geum Hwi-cheol, Right Protector of the Golden Wing Sect—snorted in derision.
He was facing a man in yellow robes who possessed an utterly ordinary appearance. However, the messenger of Lingering Spirit was too busy looking elsewhere to meet the Right Protector's gaze. He merely kept his mouth moving in Geum Hwi-cheol's direction.
Whoosh— Whoosh!
Inside the half-destroyed inner courtyard of the Emei Sect, a golden statue of the Tathagata bounced through the air. It spun and danced in place, a masterful display of Void Grab that manipulated the heavy object as if it were a mere toy.
The source of this feat was a woman of small stature clad in a reddish-gold robe. Following her gaze, the sacred treasure of the Emei Sect danced through the air.
Below, the wooden plaque bearing the characters for "Emei" lay split in two on the ground. Meanwhile, the air shimmered translucently around the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect. Her black hair fell just long enough to cover the nape of her neck, and a sweet aroma of alcohol wafted from the jade gourd she held.
"She got away," the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect muttered, speaking to herself about the Emei Sect Leader. Without even looking back, she issued a command to the man from Lingering Spirit, who was holding a sheet of paper. "Read it."
"...Y-yes, of course."
The messenger, who had been staring blankly at the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect, unfolded the paper with both hands.
"...'The land has long been parched. The vegetation is withering. Even though the times have changed such that a pickaxe is more precious than a sword, those who claim to possess high martial arts are too busy using their skills to steal food from the mouths of the commoners.'"
"Stealing food? Doesn't our sect own fields?" the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.
The Right Protector, who had been glaring displeasurably at the messenger, spoke up.
"We obtained those fields about twenty years ago by plundering a landlord's family. The Branch Head of the local government forged the land registry for us, and we split the family members in half while they slept in their beds. Since it was handled without any issues, it is only natural that you might have forgotten, Sect Leader."
"Ah."
"I shall continue reading," the messenger said. He stole a glance at the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect. Once she gave a slight nod of her pale chin, he lowered his eyes back to the letter.
"'Those who wield swords for private gain are of absolutely no benefit to the nation. Their behavior—neither knowing how to grow grain nor paying taxes—is akin to the monkeys of the mountains and fields.'"
"Monkeys?"
"'The same goes for their movements, flailing their limbs about under the pretext of martial arts.'"
"..."
The messenger continued to recite the words without stopping.
"'The author of this text is a mere latecomer with negligible experience in the Jianghu. Yet, during my travels through the Murim, I have found very few arts worth learning. The dusty Jianghu... This realm, supposedly teeming with eccentric experts like grains of sand, is in truth filled with nothing but dirt and dust.'"
"He spouts nonsense as if he were some Purple Rank figure of the Desolate Fortress," the Right Protector, Iron Helmet Divine Blade, let out a dumbfounded chuckle.
The messenger's voice continued.
"'Lately, the heterodox sects of the Thirteen Heavens have been causing trouble. They have committed atrocities against the Sichuan Tang Clan, who are diligent in their taxes, and the Emei Sect, who care for the livelihood of the commoners with Buddhist devotion. Yet, these heterodox dogs still covet reverence and fame.'"
"Give it to me."
Flutter—
At the brief command of the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect, the paper flew through the air into her grasp.
The bright sunlight shimmered over the characters written in regular script, which carried a sense of languid indifference, as if scribbled in haste.
[...Therefore, I ask.
What meaning is there in your existence?
Since every single one of you acts like a powerhouse while leeching off the livelihoods of the commoners, your martial arts had better be exceptionally profound. Otherwise, you ought to feel utterly ashamed of yourselves.
However, is it not the nature of martial arts that one cannot truly know without directly clashing? Thus, I declare to the trash of the heterodox sects reading this public notice:
On the upcoming full moon, a Life-and-Death Duel Martial Arts Festival shall be held.
The leaders of the Qingcheng Sect and the Emei Sect shall stand with me.
Ascend to the highest peak of Mount Mi in Sichuan. This applies to the leaders of the Tenth Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, the Golden Wing Sect, and any other great sects well-versed in rumors.
The Desolate Fortress.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing wishes to see you.]