Chapter 393: Carpet (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 393: Carpet (2)
A Brightfolk woman with black hair cascading over her long robes pulled back the Clear-Judgment Sword's sleeve. Her blue eyes gleamed.
Rustle—
A long needle was revealed, stuck in the palm of the stiff, dead man—the very hand that had been pointing at Jeong Yeon-shin.
Anyone could see it was a hidden weapon.
An expert of internal arts could kill with a mere reed leaf; this proved they had not harmed an innocent.
As a Unit Commander of the Divine Sword Corps responsible for managing public perception, Cheon So-so, the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit, had intended to say as much.
“……?”
But it was a pointless gesture. Before she could speak, the attention of the surrounding onlookers had already shifted elsewhere.
An ash-white forest had suddenly spread across the wasteland on the city's outskirts.
It was incredibly dense and vast. Even the tall pavilions built within it exuded an ancient, oppressive aura.
The formation had been completely shattered.
It was a scene reminiscent of when the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation, which had once hidden the main headquarters of the Blood Flame Cult, was shattered beneath the feet of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
To the common folk, and even to most martial artists, it was a mystical sight. The true face of one of the Thirteen Heavens’ great sects had been laid bare for all to see.
The Dark Night Hall.
A massive sect of bow-wielding slaughter-demons. Their notoriety surpassed that of any assassin sect in the world.
Their behavior was no different from the rest of the Thirteen Heavens; they frequently plundered granaries, operating under the belief that the lowly Han people did not deserve the blessings of the earth.
No one spared a glance to see whether the stiffened Clear-Judgment Sword was alive or dead.
At least, the commoners didn't. They had just witnessed something so shocking it had driven them out of their wits.
“W-What is…?!”
“What kind of sorcery is this?”
“A deity… a young immortal has descended! I knew he had an extraordinary air about him!”
A small minority, however, reacted differently.
The eyes of those with healthy complexions or dressed in expensive clothing sank heavily.
Some didn't think twice, immediately beginning to slip away and scurry from the scene.
“Ah, I thought it was strange that the volume of goods hadn't decreased much, even during the famine…”
“If that really is the Dark Night Hall, aren't we in deep trouble? A bloodbath is inevitable!”
“Let's go back quickly. We must lock our gates tight.”
These were people well-versed in the ways of the world.
Not only the experts with a sensitive perception of Qi, but even the rabble who had picked up martial arts by watching in marketplaces or third-rate training halls began to back away.
As the dark forest filled the wasteland, a wave of energy erupted from the outsiders. A grand, unobstructed surge of internal power whipped up a gale.
To the people of Guizhou, the presence of the group—who, save for a few, were already exceptionally beautiful men and women—was like the manifestation of divine generals from the immortal realm, an experience the likes of which they had never felt.
Coarse dust billowed into the distance.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced down at the sword in his hand. Cracks ran across its pure white blade—the recoil from the Sword Song.
'A sword is a consumable.'
Even if the weapons of the Lord of the Tenth Sect were all divine armaments, the principle remained the same. Sacrificing a single weapon to shatter the formation of the Dark Night Hall was a cheap price to pay.
Suddenly, Jeong Yeon-shin gently caressed the hilt at his waist. Lingering Thunder was not a mere weapon; it was a soul.
Swoosh.
He bowed slightly to Cheon So-so in silent gratitude, then approached Hahu Wi-jin.
The bundle on the back of the Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit contained precious supplies like jerky, waterskins, and salt—alongside the eighteen weapons of the Lord of the Tenth Sect.
Although he had used Void Grab to draw a sword without a word, as an equal Unit Commander, he couldn't just return it in the same manner.
Jeong Yeon-shin considered himself a junior well-versed in etiquette.
“How did you do that? The profound truth loaded into that single strike was extraordinary.”
Hahu Wi-jin asked, bending slightly at the waist to accommodate him.
Jeong Yeon-shin tied the sword of the Lord of the Tenth Sect back onto the bundle. He might have to use it again soon.
“Isn’t it obviously a Sword Song? The kind only the imperial family of Beijing gets to enjoy.”
Wiji Geuk, the Commander of the Dragon-Treading Unit, said as he trudged over. A trace of unconcealed astonishment lingered in his eyes as he glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin.
“Yes, the Imperial Grandson inspired me,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied.
Interest flickered across Wiji Geuk’s face.
“The Imperial Grandson? You’re acquainted with His Highness?”
“Come to think of it, they say the character 'Hwang' on your shoulder was originally gold. Since the Lord of the Fortress must have bestowed his teachings upon you, that would make you martial brothers.”
It was the Master of the Martial Apex Hall. He approached with the slow clanking of his prosthetic leg, seemingly more interested in Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword technique than the forest unfolding beside them.
“Thank you for broadening my horizons. It has a different texture from the Sword Songs of the Forbidden City. It was highly intriguing that its ultimate truth lies in killing rather than the elegant pastimes of the imperial family.”
“Are you familiar with the Beijing martial lineage?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked.
The Master of the Martial Apex Hall gave a good-natured smile.
“I've seen it quite often. I even worked secretly as a martial arts instructor for the Imperial Guard. At any rate, that technique just now. It was a single-strike form, and you even controlled its direction. Is it a proprietary martial art?”
The gazes of the senior Unit Commanders fell upon Jeong Yeon-shin. He felt needlessly self-conscious.
Giving a brief "Yes," he stepped forward. Ak Su-rim, who had slipped beside him at some point, followed with a grin. Before them lay the ash-gray forest.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced down at the crown of Ak Su-rim's head and spoke.
“Do you think the Lord of the Dark Night Hall is in there?”
“No. If something happened to Unit Commander Yong, no matter how wide the Jianghu is, you have to think of two people first.”
“I understand the Yeoryeong Lord. Is the other the Lord of the Dark Night Hall?”
“Yeah. He's a bastard who can fire a Ten-Mile One Kill all by himself from twenty li away. That's all thanks to him getting severely beaten by Unit Commander Yong in the past. Their grudge runs deep.”
“Twenty li away…?”
The man wasn't human. He was a literal epoch-defining transcendent.
They said he was a figure who had single-handedly suppressed a nation's army carrying a vast quantity of Thunderbolt Bombs; the realm of his archery truly reached the heavens.
“With eyes that can see that far, there's no way he'd be cooped up in the sect's main headquarters. It's probably the Young Lord guarding the place.”
Ak Su-rim said, pulling up the spear slung across her back. She didn't seem particularly tense, but she didn't look like she was out for a casual stroll, either.
Jeong Yeon-shin murmured quietly, “The Young Lord of the Dark Night Hall…”
“He carries a bit more weight than the dime-a-dozen descendants of the Thirteen Heavens. He's quite a precious catch. There'll probably be a reward if you capture him.”
Step.
Averting their eyes from Jeong Yeon-shin, the senior Unit Commanders began to walk in unison. It was right after they realized their humble junior possessed a touch of shyness.
Wiji Geuk, the Commander of the Dragon-Treading Unit, untied the rope at his waist with a single flick of his hand and chuckled.
“Precious, my foot. Is he the Sect Leader of one of the Nine Sects or something?”
Instantly, the shaft of Ak Su-rim's spear tapped his head. Along with it came her words, "You northern bumpkin."
“It's because he's connected to the Beijing imperial court. The Faded Clan considers him royalty. He's essentially the leader of the rebels.”
The Faded Clan.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly recalled the Compendium of the Great Ming, which he had read until it was worn out in his childhood.
It told the story of a people with long ears and short statures who returned to their homeland, destroyed the wicked Yuan Dynasty, and founded the nation alongside Taizu.
The great sect that sided with the Yuan Dynasty back then was said to be the Dark Night Hall. Even after being branded as rebels following the founding of the Ming Dynasty, they had not been driven out.
Their main headquarters was hidden in extreme secrecy.
Their experts were so elusive that, with a bow in hand, they could contest for the title of the world's greatest.
“Since you broke it, you lead the way. This will be the finishing touch.”
Ak Su-rim chattered on.
Jeong Yeon-shin could guess what was omitted from her last sentence.
Achievements leading to the Purple Rank.
Although the damp air from the forest unfolding before him brushed against his skin, he silently pushed off the dirt ground, leaving shallow footprints as he advanced.
His seniors followed.
*
“A suspicious group has entered?”
“They are martial artists, including many of the Brightfolk. It is said that every single one of them possesses an extraordinary build and bearing.”
Monotonous, utterly indifferent voices were exchanged.
A handsome young man, half-reclining on a Grandmaster's Chair woven from wooden vines, listened to the report.
He had faint, ash-gray skin and ears that pointed upward like the tips of blades.
His skin was that of a barbarian, yet his ears were proof of a noble lineage.
A clan that was treated with incomparable contempt compared to the Han people, yet was as noble as the Brightfolk. The silk blue robe embroidered with a silver-threaded dragon pattern suited him exceptionally well.
On one of the young man's shoulders, a bird with incredibly sharp, trailing feathers tilted its head.
The man prostrated before the Grandmaster's Chair looked up at the youth with customary reverence.
“The state of the Jianghu is turbulent, so we must not let our guard down.”
“Yes. It is not impossible that they are the rumored Black Rank experts. I shall inform the scouts outside.”
The kneeling man bowed his head. His archaic manner of speech and demeanor were not those of one addressing a superior, but the royalty of a nation.
His appearance also shared similar characteristics with the youth. His ash-gray skin and long ears, reminiscent of Liu Bei of Shu Han, were proof of this.
The Young Lord of the Dark Night Hall nodded silently. He picked up a reddish grape from the silver tray on the armrest and popped it into his mouth.
It was then that the Young Lord's brow suddenly twitched.
“...The Trance Formation has been broken.”
“I will go investigate.”
The subordinate did not question him. He immediately stood and looked at the Young Lord.
An indifferent command fell from the mouth chewing the grape.
“Open the ports of the Ten-Mile One Kill. All ten of them.”
“I obey your command.”
The subordinate's lips began to move. He was using the Ten-Mile Sound Transmission, a technique famously difficult to master even among the countless divine arts of the Dark Night Hall.
It took only an instant to transmit the command to the watchtowers surrounding the Young Lord's pavilion.
“...I have informed them. Now, to the outside…”
“Evacuate the children of those who went out for the harvest first. The Ten-Mile One Kill alone will not suffice. Activate the Night Spirit Yama Formation, the Nine Calamities Heavenly Bow Corps, and the Palace-Destroying Trance. You may also mobilize the one hundred bow ghosts of the Thunder Arrow Wall under my direct command.”
This represented the hundreds of years of the Dark Night Hall's history.
It was a mobilization of everyone except those the Lord of the Hall had taken with him to kill the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. It was a force close to the entirety of the sect.
The Young Lord stroked the head of the Ominous Bird.
“The Ten-Mile One Kill will buy us time at the entrance.”
At that moment, a roaring sound began to echo. The hall, adorned with black marble, shook with heavy thuds.
Stone dust fell from the ceiling, and the vibrations from outside flowed into the grand hall. The Ten-Mile One Kill, no different from artillery, had begun to fire.
It was a bolt from the blue. Such a thing had never happened to the Dark Night Hall.
The subordinate bowed his head.
“You must leave now. I do not know how this happened, but since they have managed to find our main sect and even tear through our formation… their strength is estimated to be at least three Black Rank experts.”
His voice was earnest. His words and actions carried the heart of a loyal subject. However, the young man shook his head as he rose from the Grandmaster's Chair.
“Do you know the meaning of dignity?”
“Young Lord…!”
“It is the grace that befits one's status.”
In the next instant, as if by magic, a massive bow appeared in the Young Lord's hand.
It was a greatbow, its center nocking point padded with red leather, and both ends carved into the heads of gaping dragons.
“When I do not know how many of our sect's martial artists will lose their lives, how could I turn my back on even the common folk of our clan and flee?”
“...”
“Given my status, I would rather die than run. My karma runs deep.”
It was then.
Boom— Clang-clang-clang!
The explosive sound of arrows clashing with weapons and shattering pavilions echoed faintly, along with battle cries.
One corner of the Young Lord's mouth curled up slightly.
“The Night Spirit Yama Formation was swept away by some girl's spear strike. It must be the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress. In the southwest, the Nine Calamities Heavenly Bow Corps hasn't managed to hit the famous Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit even once. The Lord of the Hall was supposed to bring back the head of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps… what on earth is this disaster?”
“The Palace-Destroying Trance has been breached by five people. One, three, six… what astonishing mastery of internal energy…! The formation of the Ten-Mile One Kill is also collapsing! It seems they really are the Black Rank experts of the Divine Sword Corps! Regardless of your dignity, you must flee immediately…!”
The subordinate's trembling voice finally ended in a loud shout.
In an extremely short span of time, the composure unique to their clan had shattered. They were facing something unprecedented.
It was a natural disaster striking without warning. The danger they thought would grant them at least a brief respite had arrived before they even had time to drink a cup of tea.
Even if they had faced any other sect in the martial world as an enemy, it could not have been like this.
The Ominous Bird on the Young Lord's shoulder fluttered its wings.
“I cannot show my back to lowborns. What can I do when my birth dictates it so?”
Nocking a long arrow to the bowstring, the Young Lord slowly continued, his voice still calm.
“It is already checkmate. I wonder what the lowborn who arrives here first will look like…”
Crash!
Before the Young Lord could even finish his sentence, the ceiling shattered into pieces.
In that instant, the arrow shot from his greatbow turned pitch black, drawing a trajectory like the night sky. But a leather boot descended through the hazy dust and stepped precisely on the arrow's shaft as it tore through the air.
It was an act of sublime footwork. As the dust settled, a pair of long legs was revealed.