Chapter 375: The Festival (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 375: The Festival (5)
Transparent sunlight filtered through the sky.
It was the hour when the shadows of the crowd were at their shortest.
There were those lying on mats, dressed so poorly it was impossible to tell if they were beggars or wanderers; experts of the Body Protection Scripture standing with their feet together on high tree branches, arms crossed; and men and women of all ages sitting in palanquins, flanked by guards in fine silk robes.
Hardly anyone among them showed any sign of boredom. As the sun climbed higher, the excitement on their faces only grew more intense.
And then…
"They're coming! They're coming!"
"What? Finally…!"
"Where? Who is it?!"
A solemn, heavy aura began to fill the distant mountain path below. The rhythmic clang of iron armor echoed, growing steadily louder.
The crowd stirred like a swarm of bees.
"The Tenth Sect! The Heavenly Lord of Myriad Weapons has arrived, leading his disciples!"
"He really accepted… I was half-doubting it…"
"To think the Lord of the Tenth Sect would display his martial arts in broad daylight before everyone…!"
"We'll get to feast our eyes on the Ten Thousand Kinds Mixed Origin Art today."
The leaders of the great sects were, without exception, figures one could rarely hope to see in a lifetime. This was true not only for the common folk but also for martial artists of decent repute in the Jianghu.
They were like suns in the sky—rarely making an appearance unless the occasion befitted their status and difficult to catch sight of even when they temporarily trod the same earth.
For martial artists, this held an even deeper significance.
It was said that the very gestures of a peerless master contained supreme martial truths and that a single glimpse could broaden one's horizons and lead to great enlightenment.
"Then we'll get to see the Hidden King Amidst Flowers, too? I heard his looks put even Song Ok and Ban-ak to shame!"
"Surely not that much. Rumors are bound to be exaggerated."
"Move! I can't see! Out of the way!"
"Hey, stop pushing! I can't go any further!"
"The martial artists have formed a perimeter! If we go any further, there'll be trouble, so just stop…!"
A crowd packed the long ridge tightly.
Scuffles broke out.
Those trying to get even slightly ahead craned their necks, while those whose views were blocked hopped in place, all to catch a glimpse of the highest peak.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
They had to witness the martial arts of peerless masters and be the first to report the outcome of today's duel to their respective factions.
Countless people shared this thought.
Even if they couldn't witness the fight clearly, they had to keep their feet planted here.
This was a historic occasion. It was a hundred times better than staring blankly at the cracked, barren earth where not even grass grew.
How could they turn their backs and leave when the peerless masters they had only heard of in rumors and admired from afar were right here?
Unlike the commoners, the martial artists and high-ranking officials who had secured prime spots looked down, letting out low groans of awe.
"The Tenth Sect… they really came…"
"It is truly a terrifyingly majestic sight."
A group of people climbed the hill with unhesitating strides.
They wore armor that flashed brilliantly in the sunlight.
The metallic clanking from the joints of their armor rang out in perfect unison, and their strict military discipline made them look less like martial artists at first glance.
Clank. Clank.
About forty men marched in lockstep behind the Lord of the Tenth Sect, who was clad in chilling, white-glowing armor. The invisible waves of internal power they emitted were staggering.
The aura flowing from their perfectly synchronized breathing pressed down on the very blades of grass.
And they were merely walking.
It possessed a grandeur akin to a military departure ceremony in Beijing, a ritual possible only for those who had cultivated the exact same internal energy.
"Look at that bearing. Despite clashing with the Blood Flame Cult Leader, he has been highly active lately…"
"The Lord of the Tenth Sect is indeed as robust as ever. The rumor that he shattered several of the Tang Clan's grand formations doesn't seem to be false, either."
"No wonder the Unorthodox Factions are in such high spirits. With things like this, I wonder if the duel will even proceed properly."
"Pardon? Why do you say that?"
"Most martial artists are ignorant of worldly affairs. That is, unless they come from a decent great sect."
"Hmm…"
"How many swordsmen lose their heads simply because they fail to recognize a famous martial artist? Surely, some will step forward to curry favor with the Thirteen Heavens, who have now become the dominant force. Those who aren't very bright but are reasonably strong in their own right… for instance, the subordinate sects of the Tenth Sect."
"Ah! Come to think of it, this duel doesn't have a set bracket, does it?"
"Anyone can participate. Frankly, some nameless vagrant who has sharpened his blade a bit could point his sword at the Commander of the Demonlight Wing under the pretext of an insult. Though the riffraff wouldn't dare."
"It wouldn't mean much. They wouldn't even withstand three exchanges from the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, let alone the Sect Leaders of Emei and Qingcheng."
"You see the Thirteen Heavens, the leaders of the Unorthodox Factions, as mere blockheads with nothing but brute strength. It's not that they don't know how to fight a war of justifications. In fact, they are masters at manipulating their opponents. They have a knack for securing a great prize at a small cost."
"I don't quite understand what you mean, Elder Nang-seong…"
"Just wait and see. Actually, I couldn't care less about the outcome of the duel. I just want to get a proper look at the Lord of the Tenth Sect's Ten Thousand Kinds Mixed Origin Art."
While dignitaries from all walks of life looked on, the procession of the Tenth Sect, led by the Sect Leader, the Heavenly Lord of Myriad Weapons, reached the designated hill. In an instant, the clanking of iron ceased in unison.
"It's quite spacious. Perfect for deploying the Body Protection Scripture," the Lord of the Tenth Sect murmured, a genial smile on his face.
He looked around, caressing the saber at his left waist. His posture exuded the relaxed, easygoing aura unique to supreme masters.
A subordinate beside him bowed slightly.
"It is called Gyeonghoe Peak, also known as Gyeonghoe Tomb."
"The hill where the stars gather. I didn't know Sichuan had a peak this high and wide."
"It is said to be the burial site of the deceased Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons…"
"The Dragon-Phoenix Twin Poisons?"
"The direct descendants of the Tang Clan Leader. The siblings who were used as sacrifices for the Golden Wing Sect's formation that day."
"Ah, I recall using their names as a side dish for my drinks once. I did think the aliases of kids these days were terribly exaggerated."
The Lord of the Tenth Sect nodded slowly.
Then, he suddenly turned his gaze.
"Of course… for a martial artist of your caliber, calling oneself a dragon or a phoenix wouldn't seem so ridiculous."
These words were not addressed to his subordinate.
The disciples of the Tenth Sect flinched, their eyes following their leader's gaze.
The thick armor enveloping their bodies made a faint rustling sound. Reflected in their wide-open eyes was the fluttering hem of a pitch-black robe.
When had he arrived?
A faint, shimmering haze of light pulsed through the gaps in the bushes.
Swoosh—
It shattered and vanished at the feet of the young man standing in the center of the hill.
Though it was clearly the shockwave from a lightness skill, his arrival felt more mysterious than that of anyone else on the mountain today.
The young man's face seemed to lend the scattering sunlight a dreamlike quality.
Flash Art Jeong Yeon-shin.
A solitary, quiet disposition emanated from his expressionless face.
"The Commander of the Demonlight Wing," one of the Tenth Sect disciples muttered like a groan.
In that instant, a massive roar erupted from the crowd surrounding the mountainside. For a moment, even the air seemed to shake violently.
Waaaaah!
"When on earth did he…? What kind of Body Protection Scripture is that…?"
"That appearance… it's the Hidden King Amidst Flowers! The rumors didn't do him justice!"
"To think he was such a handsome man!"
"I love you! Please look over here just once!"
"My eyes are truly blessed today!"
The highly excited crowd waved their hands and clamored.
The fervor was immense. The public notices copied by the Tang Clan had been posted all over Sichuan Province.
He had penned words no one would have dared to imagine, posting them far and wide under the authority of his supreme status as a Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress.
The host of the Martial Arts Tournament.
The youngest Unit Commander in the Divine Sword Corps.
The Grandmaster who had bestowed the Myriad Blossoms Rain upon the Tang Clan.
Along with these widely known achievements, there was virtually no one in Sichuan Province who did not know the name Jeong Yeon-shin.
The rumor that the Tang Clan, the largest martial clan in Sichuan, revered him as a master also won him their favor. It was as clear as day whose side the majority of the crowd would take.
However, none of the participants in the duel cared about such things. Their fates would be decided solely by the martial arts they possessed.
Shring.
As the Lord of the Tenth Sect caressed his wrist, his elbow guard, made of pure white iron, let out a chilling sound.
"Why is that?" he asked.
"Why is what?" Jeong Yeon-shin's reply was half-hearted.
He had quickly cast the Ten-Mile Light Grace out of concern that Abbess Baekyak might arrive first, but in the end, he hadn't seen a single hair of the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect.
What are they plotting?
Just then, the Lord of the Tenth Sect split his lips into a wide grin.
"This is different from what was written in the public notice. Where are the other two? Abbess Baekyak and that young Taoist blockhead from Qingcheng."
"Bring your two out first."
"I asked first. You answer," the Lord of the Tenth Sect said with a sly smile. It was a thoroughly unorthodox attitude.
Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed the words the living corpse of the Pure Demon Alliance and the birdbrain of the Golden Wing Sect. This was a place watched by ten thousand eyes.
Simply belittling his opponent would not elevate his own standing. Here, he had to display his innate dignity to crush the rabble of the Unorthodox Factions.
He spoke slowly, the words flowing from his heart.
"Do you still think you are a grand general, even as you live by sucking the marrow from the common people? A mere rebel putting on the airs of a high noble."
"Are you speaking to me?"
"You must have no shame."
Jeong Yeon-shin concluded flatly.
He did not wait for a proper response. Since childhood, he had been adept at posing questions and finding his own answers; it was rare for others to provide a response that satisfied him.
It was the same even after he entered the Jianghu. His innate insight was profound.
Let's start by defeating this guy.
There was no way the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance and the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect would fail to show up. They had to be watching from somewhere.
Just like the Sect Leaders of Qingcheng and Emei, who would be observing the movements of the two Lords of the Thirteen Heavens at this very moment.
"Come," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
"Hmm. What happened at the Tang Clan was quite regrettable," the Lord of the Tenth Sect said, raising an eyebrow as his face regained its composure. "It wouldn't be bad to properly test our martial arts here."
Step.
He took a step forward. At the same time, a sudden surge of aura pushed back the surroundings.
It was then.
"This is a mismatch of status!"
With a loud thud, a martial artist wearing hand guards leaped onto the hill.
He appeared to be middle-aged.
A diagonal scar slashed across his face, and the faint, intense haze shimmering around his body was a tyrannical Body Protection Qi.
"The Iron-Following Demonic Fist!" someone in the crowd shouted.
But he was not alone.
Thud! Thud!
"No matter if you hold the Black Rank of the Desolate Fortress, how dare a mere martial unit commander…"
"Your opponent is the leader of a great sect. You do not have the qualifications."
A man holding a massive axe guffawed, while a woman holding a narrow-bladed sword as thin as a needle spoke flatly.
Every single one of them was enveloped in a powerful aura.
Whoosh!
The shouts of the crowd mingled with the fiercely blowing wind.
Cruel Pole Axe Hyeong Gi-jung and Demon-Binding Sword Hye-so. These were names that even Jeong Yeon-shin had heard at least once since arriving in Sichuan.
They were said to be among the strongest of the Unorthodox Factions in Sichuan Province who did not belong to any great sect.
"This puts me in an awkward position," the Lord of the Tenth Sect said with a smirk as he stepped back.
Whenever a peerless master of the Unorthodox Factions appeared, there were always those who would rally under them, acting like tyrants and committing plunder. They were not direct disciples, but subordinates.
Among them, those who were exceptionally powerful were referred to as the Giant Demons of the Unorthodox Factions. Literally, it meant great devils.
This was the blight created by the supreme masters of the Unorthodox Factions. To the common people, they were known to be even more terrifying than the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens.
In times of famine, while it was difficult for the Desolate Fortress to fill the ranks of the Divine Sword Corps, it was incredibly easy for unorthodox supreme masters to gather followers.
Even if that peerless master met their death, it was extremely rare for an unorthodox martial artist to return to the path of righteousness.
"You called us a pack of monkeys, so let's exchange a light blow. I request a Life-and-Death Duel," the Iron-Following Demonic Fist said, striking his fists together heartily.
"Commander of the Demonlight Wing, didn't you summon us as well? Judging by your public notice, you seemed itching to devour your fellow martial artists walking the Tyrannical Way in Sichuan."
Rustle.
He took light steps, slowly moving sideways so he could retreat at any moment.
"…"
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. He merely stared blankly at the Lord of the Tenth Sect over the shoulders of the three Giant Demons.
A genial curve formed on the lips of the Lord of the Tenth Sect.
"Now, what to do? If the Commander of the Demonlight Wing makes a move here, according to the rules of the Martial Arts Tournament, he must step down…"
This was the scheme of the Unorthodox Factions.
Duels between peerless masters of Sect Leader caliber did not take the form of consecutive matches. Even friendly sparring to foster relations was not conducted that way.
Since countless interests and justifications were intertwined, anything that could become a variable or lead to disputes afterward had to be excluded.
The presence of each individual was as heavy as the world itself.
"They have their rights, too. Since they are not martial artists under my command, I cannot say anything. Of course, if you wish to put forward another expert to face them, that is fine too. Though they must risk their lives, as it is a Life-and-Death Duel…"
"Excellent. Anyone else?"
"Since you targeted all of the Unorthodox Factions in the first place, this can hardly be called underhanded… Hm?"
The Lord of the Tenth Sect raised his eyebrows.
As Jeong Yeon-shin met his gaze.
Seon-ryong.
A dragon holding a fan rose up in his mind, then tightly coiled itself around the sword at his waist.
The Divine Sword: Lingering Thunder let out a clear, resonant hum.
Slowly.
"…!"
A single, colorless line stretched long across the ridge.
Vrooom!
A beat later, a shockwave of light flickered in a straight line, and bloody gashes were carved into the necks of the three Giant Demons. It happened in an instant.
The blade of Lingering Thunder, flashing like lightning, tore straight through their Body Protection Qi. With a sound like ripping paper, their headless corpses collapsed sideways as their severed heads bounced across the ground.
Soon after, the Divine Sword: Lingering Thunder returned, drawing a beautiful arc.
Shring—
Jeong Yeon-shin placed a hand on the hilt of Lingering Thunder, which had slid back into its scabbard with extreme smoothness. Lifting his eyelids slightly, he saw the dumbfounded face of the Lord of the Tenth Sect.
"You bastard… from the very beginning, you intended to…" the man stammered.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.
"We proceed with the duel."
"What?"
"How can one call a macaque a human?"