Chapter 398: Carpet (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 398: Carpet (7)
It was a deep forest.
Barren, skeletal ancient trees stood in rows, while sparse bushes clinging to their remaining green leaves rustled desolately in the wind.
In the distant sky, long columns of smoke rose in succession. It was impossible to tell whether they drifted from cooking hearths or were the final gasps of villages plundered during a famine.
Even if it were the former, the situation was far from good. It was likely part of the Net of Heaven and Earth, personally overseen by the Thirteen Heavens' Yeoryeong Lord.
The villages built in these remote mountain valleys, far from the official roads, formed the axes of a massive formation art. They were populated not by ordinary peasants, but by swordsmen.
At its center lay a small, secluded clearing.
The eyes of Yong Hee-myung, Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, slowly opened.
With a soft rustle, he raised himself from a rock cut as smooth as a bed. The purple silk robe that had served as his blanket moved of its own accord, wrapping elegantly around his shoulders.
The transparent sunlight of early dawn flowed softly down the fabric.
Though he hadn't washed properly for days, he remained noble and immaculate.
Such was the duty of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps at the Desolate Fortress. Across the breathtakingly vast martial world, he had to stand at the absolute pinnacle of both grace and martial arts. At any given moment.
"Commander, aren't you immune to heat and cold? If you're going to use such a precious Dharma Treasure like a blanket, you might as well lend it to me."
A youthful man spoke, dangling his legs from a high tree branch. He was Yeon So-ha, the Keen Broom of the Divine Sword, the youngest and most promising blue-robed warrior of the Divine Sword Squad under the Divine Sword Corps.
A picture-perfect smile curved Yong Hee-myung's lips.
"Not a chance. You're fifty years too early."
"Fifty years? Will we even be alive by then...?"
"Who knows."
Suddenly, a drop of blood fell and seeped into the dirt. It was Yeon So-ha's blood, dripping down as he tightly bound a bandage around his forearm.
His blue martial uniform hung on him like rags, shredded by all kinds of puncture wounds and sword marks.
"I knew the Martial Dragon Association was crazy, but those long-eared bastards from the Dark Night Hall are vicious too. Why the hell are they mixing variations into their archery?" Yeon So-ha muttered clumsily, biting off the end of the bandage with his teeth. "I almost ended up like the former Commander of the Demonlight Wing."
Yong Hee-myung chuckled.
"You lost more than you gained. Instead of injuring your arm, you could have won the favor of the Eastern Depot."
"What do we get from looking good to those gloomy folks? I heard before we set out on this mission that the Ma Family Head's recent hobby is conducting the Black Rank promotion exams. There's absolutely no reason to seek the favor of eunuchs."
"I mean the Head Eunuch. The one who has the Western Depot and even the Imperial Procession Agency under him... his influence is quite formidable. It was the same when I was recognized as a Purple Rank in Beijing. Since you share that long-eared lineage, it will be the same for you."
"In fifty years, won't the Head Eunuch change at least three times? High-ranking officials there, whether Brightfolk or Han, rarely escape demotion. Though recently, a eunuch named Myeong-yeo has exceptionally clawed his way back up..."
"Do not worry. The current Head Eunuch seems to be lasting quite a while. He is highly skilled in politics despite wielding such immense power."
"Uh... I suppose that makes sense."
Yeon So-ha recalled an anecdote about the previous Head Eunuch—the one who had advocated for a massive cut to the Desolate Fortress's military budget.
On the very night he submitted his memorial to the throne, he received the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, Ma Yeon-jeok, as an uninvited guest and was crippled for it. The Emperor merely requested the Lord of the Desolate Fortress to place the Hegemon Hero under house arrest. That was the end of it.
"Thinking of that refreshing story did the trick. My internal power is circulating like blood again; I think I can move now."
"It seems you've finally relaxed a bit. Hold your sword tight."
Yong Hee-myung suddenly plucked a leaf from the roadside.
Rolling it into a leaf whistle with just his index and middle fingers, he slowly brought it to his lips. He looked exactly like a refined gentleman enjoying the scenic beauty of a famous mountain—at least, until he blew into it.
Screeech—
A sudden, piercing reverberation rippled along the mountain path ahead. The bushes swayed violently as if struck by a gale.
Through the gaps, several men and women carrying swords collapsed, their eyes shut tight. Dull thuds irregularly pressed into the dirt.
"We've been spotted!"
"To think he was also versed in Sound Arts...!"
"Get a grip! That man is the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps!"
Leaving the unconscious behind, more martial artists revealed themselves. Even though fleeing was the logical choice, they drew their weapons instead. The metallic scraping of steel rang out in short, sharp bursts.
"He was definitely trying to sleep. The Energy-Dispersing Poison must be taking effect."
"So he is human after all."
"Is it just the Energy-Dispersing Poison? The Lord of the Dark Night Hall said he struck him with an arrow coated in Seven-Step Soul-Severing Powder. Look at his shoulder over there. There really is a wound."
"How many of our Great Sects' formation arts has he shattered by now? It's about time he grew exhausted."
They were all experts.
The forest began to fill with a crowd. Their numbers steadily grew.
Ten, twenty... thirty... As soon as they revealed themselves, they took up different starting stances, and not a single one of them looked clumsy.
Here and there, the intense momentum unique to the Great Sects of the Thirteen Heavens mingled in the air.
Yong Hee-myung, Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, laughed.
"Seven-Step Soul-Severing Powder? There is no way the Tang Clan would brew something so precious for grey-skinned pointy-ears. You've been deceived by nonsense. Or did the Master of Taemo Mountain Fortress deliver what he stole from the Tang Clan Leader years ago?"
"What...?"
"In any case, the world is truly coming to an end. For classless rabble like you to plot against the life of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps."
His eyes slowly swept the surroundings. Though his posture appeared relaxed, his dulled sense of qi forced him to scan the ambush with his bare eyes.
Yeon So-ha, who had drawn his sword at some point, helped buy him time.
"Maybe you aren't even the Commander anymore?"
"Hmm?"
"It's exactly the kind of thing the Main Fortress Elder Council would do."
"...At my age, I should still be considered the rising wave pushing the old aside..."
It was then.
Suddenly, a curved flash of light erupted from Yong Hee-myung's waist in a brilliant white flicker. It was a surprise sword draw of explosive speed.
An intangible shockwave born from a single trajectory shot forward like a cannonball, completely obliterating the bodies of five experts who had suddenly lunged from thirty feet away.
Splaaat!
Shards of bone mixed with flesh erupted violently into the air, scattering alongside the fading halos of protective qi from those who had died instantly.
No sooner had the air been stained with gruesome streams of blood than a tree twenty feet wide directly behind them collapsed with a loud crack. Its trunk looked as if it had been chewed through by some colossal set of teeth.
All of this transpired in a mere fraction of a second.
Only then did leaves scatter in all directions. On one side, mountain birds took flight, flapping their wings as they soared high into the sky.
The ambushing martial artists stood frozen, their expressions screaming: I thought he was on the verge of death...?
"We break through."
"Yes, sir."
Just as Yong Hee-myung and Yeon So-ha exchanged words—
"There is no need for that."
A heavy voice echoed from the side. Yong Hee-myung's brow twitched.
Turning his head, he saw figures emerging like ghosts from the forest path. There were easily fifty of them.
Every single one of them wore yellow martial uniforms and carried precious swords. The waves of internal power they emitted, perfectly attuned to the dry forest path, were overwhelming.
The momentum they exuded was extraordinary.
It wasn't merely intense or overbearing. It was an unprecedented madness—an aura that instantly marked them as absolute, single-minded fanatics.
It could only be the Thirteen Heavens' Martial Dragon Association.
They were madmen obsessed with martial arts, sharing their sect's techniques with outsiders. The realm of the Limitless they pursued was said to be on an entirely different plane from any other sect.
The man standing at the forefront was Namgung's First Sword, a peerless swordsman sworn as a brother to the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association.
He was also the master of the dozen-odd villages established solely to capture the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps within this vast world.
"You do not look to be in good shape. Can you still draw the Dragon Ring Sword?" Namgung's First Sword asked, his blue sleeves draping low.
Though he had not even drawn his sword, the momentum radiating from his scabbard seemed capable of filling the very heavens. It was the mark of the Imperial Sword Form reached to absolute perfection.
The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps merely chuckled and did not reply.
"The order I sent to Sichuan. Aren't you curious about what happened to it?" Yong Hee-myung spoke to Yeon So-ha, his gaze still fixed on Namgung's First Sword.
An answer immediately drifted down from above.
"With so many of our precious Black Ranks there, they must have handled it somehow. Even if only half of them gathered, Sichuan would be in ruins by now."
"Half might not be enough. The Lord of the Golden Wing Sect is no ordinary monster. Though the Unit Commanders, led by Flash Art, might be able to handle the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance."
"Since it was the Commander's mobilization order, I'm sure more than that showed up. Still, the Unit Commanders gathering in one place... I'm incredibly curious to see it."
"Is there no way to find out right now?"
"Of course not. Look at the distance between here and there."
Namgung's First Sword, who had been quietly watching their conversation, slowly spoke.
"Cease your qi meditation. The time granted to Commander Yong is not long."
"You caught me."
Yong Hee-myung smiled sheepishly. I should have mastered a decent dynamic cultivation art.
The Sword of Divine Attainment, now held in his hand, hummed softly. In contrast to its master's refined demeanor, its desolate glow illuminated the surrounding grass.
Soon, the fragments of corpses were reflected in Namgung's First Sword's eyes. The peerless swordsman's field of vision was incredibly vast.
"Your sword qi has grown dull," he continued quietly. "The Lord of our Association has emerged from seclusion. He is heading straight here."
He meant the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association. While Yeon So-ha gasped, Yong Hee-myung spun his sword with feigned indifference.
"Only now? That strike he took from me last time must have hurt quite a bit."
"That must be bad news for you. Out of respect as a fellow martial artist, I shall also share some good news."
"If the bad news is so trivial, how great could the good news be?"
"The Desolate Fortress Black Ranks gathered in Sichuan have pulled off quite a feat. It seems the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, Flash Art, defeated three of the Thirteen Heavens Lords in succession: the Lord of the Tenth Sect, the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance, and the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect... The Yeoryeong Lord is currently verifying the truth of it."
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept quietly through the forest path. The flurry of falling leaves made more noise than the people present.
At the words of Namgung's First Sword, who cared nothing for his own allies' morale, the silence between the opposing sides deepened.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin marched north with his seniors.
This was after he had declared to the two sect leaders of the Nine Sects that he would invoke the Mount Hua Agreement. The ruined Dark Night Hall was left abandoned in Guizhou, exposed to the entire world.
Though all kinds of people flocked to the site, the Black Ranks left without paying them any mind.
The Young Lord of the Dark Night Hall accompanied Jeong Yeon-shin. He was connected through spirituality to the Ominous Bird—the Lord of the Dark Night Hall's means of tracking.
A long time passed.
As day and night alternated several times, their formation shifted. The Black Ranks dispersed within the range of their sense of qi, with Jeong Yeon-shin, who held the Young Lord prisoner, at the center.
During this time, Jeong Yeon-shin rarely spoke to the Young Lord.
When it was time to eat, he shared beef jerky with him, slept for less than fifteen minutes in front of the campfire, and then forced them to move again using their lightness skill.
This was due to the Ominous Bird flying ahead as if leading the way. They could not afford to fall behind when even rushing at full speed was barely enough.
"Commander of the Demonlight Wing, let us rest for a moment. This is no way to treat a royal descendant of our clan."
"Do not stop. I am learning from observing your conduct," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
A person whom the world does not deem a gentleman cannot become the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, and a gentleman derives teachings from all things under heaven.
It was said that even a grub, though seemingly slow, moves without rest. It was just like the Young Lord of the Dark Night Hall.
To ensure the Jeong Family Dynamic Art remains unshaken even in battles of the peerless realm, I must engrave such things into my mental image.
Jeong Yeon-shin constantly gained insights, just like any peerless expert whose martial progress never ceased.
"..."
From then on, the Young Lord fell silent.
A noble, young peerless expert had said he was learning from him. The Young Lord was a martial artist. A thrill of inspiration shivered down his spine. It was something akin to profound admiration.
To feel this toward a mortal enemy...
The Young Lord desperately suppressed his emotions. His neat eyebrows twitched slightly.
By then, Jeong Yeon-shin was looking up at the sky. The Ominous Bird was screeching, unable to move forward as if blocked by something. From the other side, he could sense quite powerful waves of energy.
Shring.
It was just as he drew the Divine Sword: Lingering Thunder.
The bushes ahead, which had been empty, rustled, and a young man with disheveled hair poked his head out.
"Another one? But this one is no ordinary fellow..."
Tapping the tip of his own nose, he scanned Jeong Yeon-shin from head to toe. It was a bizarre attitude. He seemed slightly intimidated, yet strangely nonchalant.
"A young noble has come to lend his blade, I see. It's a good thing, too, as a massive ruckus has broken out just over there. What is your sect? The Martial Dragon Association? The Dark Night Hall?"
He spoke of things that made no sense. It seemed they had arrived at the right place.