Chapter 372: The Festival (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 372: The Festival (2)
A single public notice had been posted throughout the capital.
It spoke of a martial arts tournament, the likes of which had not been seen in recent memory. The words were a summons, calling upon peerless masters.
Who could possibly refuse?
It was more than enough to shake the twelve prefectures and seven provinces of the vast Sichuan Province to their very foundations. It was a declaration of war that rapidly expanded, throwing not only Sichuan but the lands beyond into a frenzy.
Rustle.
A letter flew through the air, caught neatly between the snow-white index and middle fingers of the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect.
At the same moment, a Buddhist statue that had been wildly bouncing and spinning in the air across from her suddenly dropped with a dull thud, as if an invisible hand had let it go.
"One-on-one? Or a winner-stays-on format...?" she murmured in a low voice, the end of her sentence trailing upward playfully. She seemed to have completely lost interest in the Buddhist statue she had been toying with.
A thick aroma of alcohol wafted from the jade gourd held in her other hand, stirred by the cloud-like energy that briefly emanated from her body.
As the surrounding disciples of the Golden Wing Sect flinched...
"The Commander of the Demonlight Wing... arrogant. Truly arrogant."
Geum Hwi-cheol, the Iron Helmet Divine Blade, slammed his reverse-gripped broadsword into the ground with a heavy thud.
In that instant, streaks of deep blue light flashed and vanished along the veins of his forearms, which were remarkably muscular for his age. It was a powerful materialization of his internal energy.
"Absurd. The brat clearly doesn't realize what he has done," the old man spat. He had scanned every line of text in the brief moment the letter flew toward his Sect Leader's hand.
Meanwhile, the man of Lingering Spirit, who had been blankly staring at the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect standing in the brilliantly shattering sunlight, snapped out of his daze. The old man's harsh outburst had broken his trance.
He cursed inwardly. 'Ignorant old fool.'
Geum Hwi-cheol, the Iron Helmet Divine Blade. He was a grandmaster of the saber, capable of founding his own sect single-handedly. Within the Golden Wing Sect, he was renowned as a supreme expert—the one who could withstand the greatest number of the Sect Leader's forms.
He was different from the Molten Spirit Divine Fist, who had willingly acted as a servant, completely bewitched by the Sect Leader's beauty. Geum Hwi-cheol wielded immense influence within the Golden Wing Sect, even leading the sect's hunts for spirit beasts, including their dragon hunts. It was also Geum Hwi-cheol who ordered the thorough crushing of rival factions during great sect wars.
Furthermore, he had made the greatest contribution to the Golden Wing Sect burning down the Emei Sect a few days prior and occupying it to this day.
"He already carries an indelible karmic burden, yet he practically begs for death. A mere subordinate of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps," Geum Hwi-cheol muttered.
Though it was unclear who he was speaking to, the man of Lingering Spirit felt compelled to respond. It was difficult to speak directly with the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect for many reasons, so he chimed in casually instead.
"A Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress is not a low status anywhere. I heard that not long ago, the Lord of the Tenth Sect and the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance backed down to avoid a clash with the Commander of the Demonlight Wing..."
"There must have been circumstances we cannot fathom from here."
"I suppose so."
"He is not a Purple Rank. There is no need to play along to his trivial tune. How dare a mere child, completely out of his depth, summon our Sect Leader..." Geum Hwi-cheol's fist tightened around the hilt of his broadsword.
Glancing at him, the man of Lingering Spirit shook his head inwardly. No, that won't do.
"This has already drawn the attention of the entire Jianghu. In the merchant world, where rumors travel fast, they are even calling it the Great War of the Martial Gods."
"The Great War of the Martial Gods?" Geum Hwi-cheol asked.
The man nodded slowly. "A martial arts tournament where high-ranking, peerless masters fight to the death. The stage has been set very naturally. After all, it is extremely rare for the leaders of great sects to move in person."
"Our Sect Leader is no street performer."
Just as Geum Hwi-cheol muttered that it wasn't even worth considering, the man furrowed his brows and spoke again, his expression turning serious.
"It might actually be a hundred times better for the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect to make the trip. That is what I wanted to say."
"And what is your reason?"
"Don't you know? Something very strange is happening. The Tenth Sect, the Golden Wing Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, the Hegemon Sword Sect, and even some of our forces from Lingering Spirit, along with so many subordinate sects, have been vanishing sporadically... This is happening even though we should have wiped out the Sichuan Righteous Faction sects and the four Divine Sword Corps martial units long ago."
"Hmm."
"If it is a place where we can slay the Sect Leaders of Qingcheng and Emei, as well as the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress all at once... then we must attend. Since it has been publicly announced as a tournament, it cannot be a trap. They won't have the leeway to devise any schemes beforehand."
The Qingcheng Sect had already lost its Sect Leader once to the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect.
The Tang Clan would be too busy recovering from the damage inflicted by the Tenth Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance. Their remaining poisons and hidden weapons would amount to a mere handful.
The Emei Sect was in even worse shape. Their Sect Leader had been defeated by the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect while returning to the main mountain after a long journey, and they had even lost Mount Emei, which was famous for its buried dharma treasures.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing was out of the question. The Divine Sword Corps of the Desolate Fortress would never unite.
'The Forest-Treading Unit and the Immortal Wood Spirit, which should have been trapped in the Flood Dragon's formation, are a concern, but...'
There were certainly variables, but they were nothing compared to the Tenth Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, and the Golden Wing Sect, whose leaders remained perfectly intact. This was especially true now, with the support of countless subordinate sects, the Hegemon Sword Sect, and Lingering Spirit.
'Striking the heads of the Thirteen Heavens with a mere tournament?' The man of Lingering Spirit wore a meaningful expression. 'They seem to be trying to turn the tide... but the Heaven-Ruling Dragon-Slaying Art is not a martial art for mere mortals.'
The Lord of the Golden Wing Sect entered his field of vision. She was tracing the words of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing with her slender fingertips.
Her ebony hair, flowing down past her small ears, swayed slightly with her movements. It was an incredibly trivial gesture, yet strangely, she looked like a true phoenix in human form.
"Hwi-cheol."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
"Yeon-shin, was it? I am going to see him."
"...I shall obey your command."
Geum Hwi-cheol, the Iron Helmet Divine Blade, replied in an aging voice, bowing his head slightly. The actual power he held only existed because the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect showed no interest in matters outside the sect.
I wonder how the Sichuan Righteous Factions will be annihilated, the man of Lingering Spirit murmured to himself. A similar scene was likely playing out in the Tenth Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance.
The challenge letter from the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had described the people of the Jianghu as parasites. For those who valued their reputation, refusal was impossible. It was a meticulously crafted provocation.
'Writing it like that means even the Righteous Factions won't look kindly upon him... but he must have prioritized the greater utility of ensuring the tournament is actually held.'
Since someone who hadn't even reached twenty could not truly possess such a limitlessly arrogant heart, he could guess how much effort had been poured into every single character of the text. Such a calculating mind should have belonged to Lingering Spirit. The man swallowed his regret.
*
The public notice put up by Jeong Yeon-shin was being delivered to all sorts of sects.
This was despite the fact that factions like the Beggar Sect and Lingering Spirit, which excelled at spreading or exaggerating rumors, were not favorable toward the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. It was all because the Tang Clan—the local aristocrats who had ruled the Sichuan martial world for generations—had provided immense assistance.
"It is truly a relief. Whether it is spending gold or mobilizing people, the Tang Clan alone is far superior to all of our lay sects combined."
"Indeed."
A man and a woman strolled through a garden filled with rare, colorful flowers and plants. They were Chwi So-ok, the Small Sword Empress, and Jeong Yeon-shin, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. Behind them, a young man clad in a white martial uniform followed Jeong Yeon-shin with cautious steps, trailing him like a servant.
It was So Il-su, the White-Ranked Warrior who had almost been killed by the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance earlier.
"By the way, even though the Tang Clan offered to provide servants, why did he insist...? I have never seen an elite warrior of the Desolate Fortress's White Rank wait on someone else," Chwi So-ok said, glancing at So Il-su.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded slowly. "I am very grateful for it."
"I requested this because I wanted to! Branch warriors like me, scattered all over the world, are bound to idolize at least one of the seventeen Black Ranks!" So Il-su shouted with a bright smile.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head slightly to the side to avoid showing his embarrassed expression to the two of them. Idol, my foot.
At that moment...
—How cute.
It was the domain of sorcery martial arts. A smooth laugh seemed to echo from the shadow beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of a growling stomach. It was mysterious, yet incredibly trivial.
Jeong Yeon-shin had experienced hunger before. It was when he was around seven years old, right after he had heard that his father was personally reading interesting stories like the Classic of Mountains and Seas and the Compendium of the Great Ming to his older brothers. After pestering his father to tell him about his mother, he had been sentenced to four days of solitary confinement. A child of a martial family was not supposed to throw tantrums.
Still, there had been a small achievement. It was then that he realized the subtle truth of emptiness (虛) within the mnemonics of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, which he was already developing at the time.
'To empty in order to fill more. She should already know this.'
The Seventh Apostle would not be inferior to a seven-year-old Jeong Yeon-shin. Since her comprehension and talent were closer to a human's than a beast's, she had no reason to starve like he had back then.
Jeong Yeon-shin thought about it. If he pricked his finger and let a single drop of blood fall, wouldn't she come out immediately? The sensation of the Seventh Apostle's cool fangs burying into the nape of his neck was still vivid.
"Young Master Jeong... Young Master Jeong?"
"Hmm?"
"We are here. Turn the corner, and it's the very first room," Chwi So-ok said.
Lifting his head, he saw a pavilion topped with blue-green tiled roofs. It was extremely elegant and antique. They had arrived at the detached villa that the Tang Clan reserved for distinguished guests. It had taken some time to walk there, as Jeong Yeon-shin was currently staying in the inner courtyard used by the direct descendants of the Tang family.
The quiet pavilion filled his vision.
'Abbess Thunderbolt Guanyin is inside...?'
It was the moniker of the Emei Sect Leader. Her Buddhist name was Baekyak.
He had heard that while he was out greeting Hahu Wi-jin and Cheon So-so last night, she had entered the Tang Clan leading the experts of Emei. He had also heard the news of how they had been helplessly pushed back by the Golden Wing Sect, and that the Sect Leader herself had requested a meeting with the Commander of the Demonlight Wing through the Tang Clan Leader.
'Does she wish to decide the order of the duels?' he thought as he walked.
As the youngest son of a wealthy landlord family, Jeong Yeon-shin had originally been closer to a good-natured commoner. This was because he had merely played around on his own with a family martial art that would have been considered third-rate even if taught by a true master. Like any ordinary citizen, he respected Buddhist monks and Taoist priests.
The Sect Leader of the Emei Sect would be on speaking terms with even the Shaolin Abbot. It was a truly lofty status. Setting aside her martial prowess, he could not help but respect her.
"Young Master Jeong."
"Hmm?"
"May I say a few words before you go in?"
"...Go ahead."
Lost in thought, Jeong Yeon-shin had almost told her to spit it out. It was due to Chwi So-ok's sharp aura, which failed to conceal the waves of her internal power. This was largely the aftermath of having dealt with so many unrefined martial artists lately.
'People of the Jianghu are of no help.' With a vow to guard against being influenced by bad company, he set his thoughts aside. He was about to meet a high monk who had deeply cultivated Buddhist teachings. His heart fluttered.
Hummm—
Suddenly, an invisible wave of true qi enveloped Jeong Yeon-shin and Chwi So-ok. It was an energy barrier originating from Chwi So-ok's body. As Jeong Yeon-shin looked at her in confusion, she parted her lips as if making an excuse.
"Just in case there is any unnecessary conflict."
"Conflict? I heard Abbess Baekyak possesses deep Buddhist power."
Chwi So-ok did not answer for a moment, looking as if she were swallowing hard and struggling to hold back her words. Jeong Yeon-shin's colorless eyes shone like stars.
"Is she hot-tempered? I have heard that some monks are like that, channeling their vexations into anger. Even Shaolin's Gecko Fist..."
"No, it's the opposite."
"What?"
"Among the heterodox sects, Abbess Thunderbolt Guanyin is called the Stone Buddha. She is so indifferent to all things that nothing can shake her composure. When the Heaven-Smiling Invincible was young, she once tried to act like the Heavenly Demon in front of her, only to end up running away. They say she deflected the Gyocheon Joyous Art, which is said to be the best in the world at seducing people, without even raising her internal energy..."
"Indeed." Jeong Yeon-shin, who had secretly grown wary of his maternal bloodline ever since reuniting with his nephew, let out a brief exclamation of admiration. I must meet her immediately.
Chwi So-ok's expression grew slightly urgent. "I overheard her conversation with the Tang Clan Leader, and she seemed skeptical about your participation in the martial arts tournament, Young Master Jeong. She is someone who only cares about the orthodox Zen Buddhist teachings that emphasize enlightenment. So, even if you are briefly ignored..."
"What a strange thing to worry about."
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin replied casually and walked right through the energy barrier.
The fragments of true qi, shattered by his footsteps, lingered like crumbs of light, rippling behind his pitch-black hair. Chwi So-ok almost lost herself staring at the sight.
"Let me finish...!" She quickly reached out, only to freeze.
A tiny amount of dharma true qi was drifting like smoke from beneath the black robe of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing before vanishing.