Chapter 399: Carpet (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 399: Carpet (8)
The mountain path was quiet.
Only the rustle of dry leaves broke the silence as they tumbled across the parched dirt.
A gentle breeze brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin's skin, carrying the dry, scorching heat of a famine-struck summer. Only the brilliant sunlight felt clamorous.
“……”
Jeong Yeon-shin stared over the shoulder of the young man who had greeted him.
The longer he stared at a single spot, the blurrier his vision grew. At the center of his focus, an old tree feebly shook its barren branches under the blinding sun of a cloudless sky.
Suddenly, the tangled thoughts in his mind faded away. Is the Commander safe? If the Mount Hua Agreement is carried out, who should be sent from the Blue and White Ranks...?
An unnatural silence hung in the air.
A formation of unfathomable scale was concealing all presence beyond it.
It wasn't as sophisticated as the martial arts of the Dark Night Hall or the Blood Flame Cult. It was just enough to deceive the senses of lost travelers or wanderers foraging for wild fleeceflower roots.
However, it was more than enough to hide from the eyes of the world.
After all, this was a remote wilderness, nestled deep within the mountains and valleys.
A sorcery formation grand enough to be called sublime, cast over a land where human feet rarely trod. It would be difficult for any sect's secret line to locate.
“…Taemo Mountain Fortress.”
The young man reacted immediately to Jeong Yeon-shin's murmur.
“So you're from there? No wonder you don't look like an ordinary man... Ah, I mean that in a good way. I earn my keep from Lingering Spirit. Though I'm not a direct disciple...”
Despite his seemingly friendly words, his expression remained lukewarm. This was because Taemo Mountain Fortress was different from the rest of the Thirteen Heavens.
It was a sect whose reputation was highly polarized, even among the unorthodox factions.
This great sect of sorcery martial arts, which had split from the Maoshan Sect, was always surrounded by bizarre rumors.
Rumors of offering the blood of commoners at Guandi Temples to create meat, or using sorcery to steal the energy of famous mountains for bizarre chores.
Step.
The shaggy-haired youth took a half-step back.
“Anyway, there was no need for you to come all the way out here. As you know, this is the 8th Village. It's quite far from the 17th Village where all the chaos broke out, but strange rumors have been circulating that Taoists from the Nine Sects have appeared in the neighboring villages... You should be careful too, brother. Whether it's the Plum Blossom Sword or the Taiji Sword, they never discuss the Dao when they're standing in front of us, do they?”
He talked too much. He was indeed a martial artist of a great sect.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently stared at the youth's face. If he had indeed arrived at the right place, this youth was a culprit who had to die. It meant he was lending a hand in hunting down the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
He slowly opened his mouth.
“How large is the interior?”
“Hmm? This is a formation created by the sorcerers from your side, isn't it...? From your appearance, you don't seem to be of a rank as low as an apprentice sorcerer.”
The youth voiced his suspicion.
A brief silence ensued. His dark, glistening eyes scanned back and forth between the Young Lord of the Dark Night Hall and Jeong Yeon-shin.
Soon, looking at the Young Lord—a faded Brightfolk—his expression turned to one of understanding.
He seemed completely unaware that the hilt of the sword at Jeong Yeon-shin's waist had just twitched minutely on its own.
“Looking at the clothes, this one is the noble guest. That bow, the skin, those fierce calluses... You came from the Dark Night Hall. Is Taemo Mountain Fortress acting as your guide?”
“…A useless question. How long do you intend to keep us standing here?” the Young Lord urged him in an archaic tone.
He was someone who deeply cherished the commoners of his clan.
This was evident from his cooperation with Jeong Yeon-shin ever since the Netherflow Unit Commander, who remained in Guizhou, secured custody of the Dark Night Hall disciples.
“Well, my apologies. This way.”
The shaggy-haired youth turned around, grumbling. In the first place, none of the faded Brightfolk experts were friendly toward the Desolate Fortress.
Since their very skin symbolized the rebellious bloodline that had obstructed the founding of the nation, they deserved more trust than the wanderers inside the formation.
“I trust you can keep up. Watch my footsteps closely.”
Rustle.
The sound of the youth's footsteps grew faint in an instant. He had activated his movement technique toward the Life Gate of the formation.
As he moved forward, emitting faint waves of internal power from the Yongquan points on the soles of his feet, he left no footprints on the dirt ground.
It was an unfamiliar place. Grasping the geography and the situation was the priority.
Jeong Yeon-shin parted his lips as he followed him.
“I asked how large the interior is.”
“Is there a need to know? I highly recommend you stay here, in the 8th Village. If you go poking around other villages for no reason, you won't like what you find.”
“……”
“The wanderers here were all invited by Lingering Spirit. They were handpicked and hired, so every single one of them knows how to handle a blade. On top of that, their eyes are bloodshot with greed for salt, meat, and all the things they can never get enough of. Unless you're of a generation high enough to be my brother's master, they won't even be intimidated...”
“I will not say it a third time.”
“…It's monstrously huge. It's a Net of Heaven and Earth built along 'that man's' path, or predicting it, so it's no ordinary size. I reckon it might even be used as a settlement after this is over. It's wealthier than most cities.”
“That man?”
“The master of the Sword of Divine Attainment. That monster surnamed Yong.”
The youth answered casually, then added pointedly, “If you act this rudely in the village, you'll be in for a rough time.”
“……”
Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent.
This, too, was the Jianghu of the Purple Rank. They had built over a dozen outposts just to slay a single Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. It was practically a massive chariot wheel battle formation.
Meanwhile, the Young Lord, who was following Jeong Yeon-shin, stole a glance at his expression.
They had arrived exactly at their destination. It proved he hadn't played any tricks with the ominous bird.
—Will you convey my words to your Netherflow Unit Commander? I sold out my Hall Master to secure the safety of my people. I deserve to be treated with respect by you...
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply. It was because Ak Su-rim's voice had penetrated his ears alongside the Young Lord's telepathy.
—Did you hear him babbling about the 8th and 17th Villages? It seems they've set up traps in advance everywhere Yong is likely to pass. Cornering the Commander with formations, numbers, poison, and peerless experts. It'll probably be easier if we split up.
—Are you suggesting we form teams? Jeong Yeon-shin replied via telepathy.
—Yes! Since there are twelve of us, how about four, four, three, and one? Dragon-Treading, Soso, and I will take the village to your left. I'll tell the others to handle themselves.
—And the single person...?
—I'm talking about you. It was the same when Yong led the Divine Sword Corps. He was the sole member of the Divine Sword 1st Team.
—...If we split up, how do you plan to enter the formation? My help...
—What?
Suddenly, the girl's laughter tickled his ears. Her voice sounded almost proud of him.
—Well, even Commander Yong would find this unfamiliar, let alone you. Yong has never brought more than ten Black Ranks with him either.
—Pardon?
—A formation of that level can be breached just by Bloodkeeper tapping his foot. It's nothing more than a single punch for Soso or Dragon-Treading. Besides, Soso has the Sapling of the World Tree. Among the Dharma Treasures used in formations, it's the absolute best under heaven—whether it's acting as a wall or a door, Ak Su-rim said, her voice laced with amusement.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not listen to the rest of her words.
He recalled the elegant kicking technique of Jin Myeong-jo, the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon, and nodded in agreement. Anything would be possible for them.
—You've worked hard all this time. This is our last mission before we head up to Beijing.
Her whisper scattered into the fresh early summer breeze. Finally, they were entering the city of the Net of Heaven and Earth, conceived by the Yeoryeong Lord to deceive the world.
Leaving the Vice Commander's praise behind, Jeong Yeon-shin stamped his own footprints onto the dirt ground. Step. Behind the echoing sound of his footsteps, the deserted path faded into the distance.
*
The moment he stepped into the formation deployed in the remote mountain valley, a boisterous clamor struck his ears.
Drunken shouts, the scraping of metal on whetstones, thunderous snoring, and the voices of waiters soliciting customers.
What unfolded before his eyes was a proper village.
Inns haphazardly constructed from logs, taverns sending up smoke despite the lack of any smell of food, and martial artists lounging carelessly all over the ground and roofs.
Most of them carried weapons like swords, sabers, and scythes.
“……”
It was surely because there was money to be made. Or perhaps food was being provided. It was the law of the Jianghu that a cart of ten thousand bags of grain moved according to the greatest power.
If someone offered delicacies from land and sea, contracts or master-servant relationships were bound to be forged on the spot.
On one side, a group of rowdy wanderers sat around a bonfire, discussing the state of the Jianghu. They paid no heed to Jeong Yeon-shin's group.
“Are you sure there's no support from the Desolate Fortress?”
“They said Sichuan is in chaos. It'll take them ages to get here. They'd have to switch to fresh steeds several times.”
“What do you know about peerless experts?”
“Aren't they human too?”
It was then.
Thud!
A man landed in front of them, as if boasting of his crude Body Protection Scripture.
He wore deep blue silk robes and carried a precious sword adorned with lavish tassels. Despite his fine attire, his fierce temperament made him look like nothing but a common wanderer.
“Why are you only returning now? I thought something had happened!”
“Don't make a fuss over nothing. As you can see, I brought some guests.”
The shaggy-haired youth turned his body, presenting Jeong Yeon-shin and the Young Lord.
The wanderer flinched the moment his eyes fell on Jeong Yeon-shin, but upon seeing the Young Lord, he nodded. He muttered softly, “Dark Night Hall.”
“I'm glad you didn't just drag in some riffraff. Chaos has broken out in the 6th Village right now.”
“What? The 6th Village? Surely that man is...!”
“It's not the Dragon Human of the Desolate Fortress. It's the Nine Sects. Mount Hua and Wudang. They finally caught the scent and crawled in.”
The wanderer spoke as if chewing on his words. The shaggy-haired youth ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head vigorously.
“Damn it... It's only a matter of time before the Jianghu finds out. Surely the Sect Leaders didn't come?”
“As if the Saint Flower Sword God and Wudang's Acting Sect Leader would act as a secret line. The ones who caused a ruckus in the 6th Village and crossed over here are the Plum Blossom Swordsmen. As the rumors say, they look down on us with arrogant disdain.”
“That's not good news... Did you clash with them?”
“It's a standoff. It's nerve-wracking.”
“How many of them?”
“Five. One of them is very young.”
“The Lord will handle it somehow. Ephemeras like us just need to do our jobs. Let's buy some time.”
Jeong Yeon-shin's brow twitched at the youth's words.
Step.
He slowly moved forward, silently passing between the wanderer and the youth. The shaggy-haired youth reacted immediately.
“Uh? Don't approach recklessly. I have a plan. If luck is on our side, we can handle five Plum Blossom Swordsmen somehow...”
“How many of such villages are there?”
“I don't know. As you can see, they're all hidden like this. I only know up to the 17th Village.”
It was then.
The wanderer, who had been glaring at Jeong Yeon-shin with displeasure, suddenly interjected.
“Some high-and-mighty person called this a trap to catch 'that man,' but it suits us fine. In times like these, a remote mountain valley like this has more to offer than some mediocre city.”
“A trap?”
“My lips are so dry they're sticking together. Your pockets look quite full. If you have some alcohol...”
The sound of smacking lips sliced through the air. A powerful aura. The rough wave of internal power characteristic of a predator brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin's clothes. Because of his disguise, he was wearing hemp clothes instead of his usual black robe.
Asking for alcohol right after mentioning the threat of the Nine Sects. This was how most wanderers were. Men who roamed the lands of famine, plundering day by day to buy a single day's pleasure.
In Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes, they could not compare to the poppy addict of the Demonlight Wing. Unlike the Lazy Flame Dragon, they were unorthodox scoundrels who had willingly embraced the fate of ephemeras.
“I wonder what the Yeoryeong Lord is thinking,” Jeong Yeon-shin muttered to himself.
The Yeoryeong Lord surely didn't intend to deal with the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps using a mere rabble. It seemed their main forces were concentrated in other villages.
Regardless of his thoughts, the surrounding reaction was swift.
“What?”
The wanderer's eyes widened fiercely. The gazes of the crowd, which had previously paid no attention to the new faces, gathered like sharp blades.
A silence fell like an invisible meteorite. Only the bleak sound of whetstones grinding blades echoed from various spots.
“Hey.” The wanderer took a step closer. “What is your sect? Someone who agreed to join this Net of Heaven and Earth shouldn't speak of the Thirteen Heavens' Lord so lightly...”
Dozens of men slowly stood up from all around.
Fairly dense waves of energy began to rise and mingle with the wind.
Unlike the youth who had guided them, they were remarkably quick-witted from the very first meeting, fitting for wanderers who had survived the Jianghu without the protection of a great sect.
Jeong Yeon-shin merely stood there like a statue.
His eyelids were slightly lowered. A faint smile had already formed on his lips.
“Your identity is suspicious. Your bearing is unfamiliar too. It's not like you're some peerless expert...!”
The wanderer in blue martial robes, who had been sizing him up, drew his sword in a surprise attack.
The drawing of the sword made a sharp crack as it tore through the air.
The tip of the sword bent and thrust repeatedly in midair. It was a highly practical variation technique, infinitely close to the high-level realm.
At that moment.
The trajectory aiming for Jeong Yeon-shin's neck suddenly shook violently, disrupted by the sudden intervention of a third party. A fist slammed into the side of the wanderer's ribs.
Thud!
A purple shockwave flickered like scattering snowflakes. The punch drove the flesh of the man's flank deep into his abdominal cavity. With a loud crunch, the side of the fist crushed his ribs.
A figure stood beside the wanderer, who collapsed helplessly to the ground.
“Didn't you know our sect had arrived? You shouldn't be wasting your energy here.”
A young Taoist grumbled, shaking his hand. His white Taoist robes, embroidered with plum blossoms, fluttered.
He had appeared out of nowhere to deliver a single punch. He seemed to have thrown it without much effort, yet the fist technique itself was incredibly flashy and beautiful.
“What is the meaning of this suddenly...!”
“Dark Fragrance Drift and Plum Blossom Fist!”
“Mount Hua! It's the Mount Hua Sect!”
In an instant, the sound of drawing weapons filled the surroundings.
While the youth who had guided Jeong Yeon-shin retreated with a furrowed brow, a waiter from the crudely built inn nearby approached, drawing two kitchen knives.
The young Taoist opened his mouth wide.
Immediately, a breath resembling a yawn escaped him. It was an internal energy breathing pattern perfectly suited to his languid nature—the absolute composure of a genius under heaven.
“The Sleeping Dragon of Mount Hua... the youngest Plum Blossom Swordsman.”
“It seems the front has been smashed to pieces. I told you not to take it so easy...!”
“This is a place 'that man' has already passed. All we were told was to keep a close eye on passersby, and if a man with a scholarly air asked for water, to poison it. There's no reason to risk our lives over a trivial chore.”
“I warn you, Taoist Yu-hyeon! You have thrown yourself into a massive conspiracy! The Dark Night Hall, the Martial Dragon Association, and Lingering Spirit are the masterminds, and this scheme is woven with the support of their subordinate sects and Taemo Mountain Fortress! If you want to preserve your life, you had better listen to me!”
While the wanderers whispered among themselves and the shaggy-haired youth shouted warnings, Yu-hyeon, the Sleeping Dragon of Mount Hua, leisurely looked around before staring straight ahead.
Jeong Yeon-shin, standing perfectly still, met his gaze.
“Yeah, I'm the Sleeping Dragon of Mount Hua. What were you guys doing here? No one's giving me a straight answer...”
Yu-hyeon's words trailed off.
A purple glow flickered in the young Taoist's eyes. It was the eye technique of the Purple Mist Divine Art. The martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect were the studies of immortals, rivaling Wudang.
He instantly recognized the features of the friend he had repeatedly envisioned as his sole rival, along with the quiet nature of that restrained Law-Transcending Halo Qi.
Yu-hyeon wore a dazed expression.
“Who... are you?”