Chapter 407: Peerless Realm (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 407: Peerless Realm (7)
The fading halo of the setting sun cast long shadows, ushering in a tranquil silence.
Jeong Yeon-shin looked down at his hands.
The mist that had taken the shape of a sword dispersed into a dark red haze.
The Dark Night Radiant Blood Magic Sword of the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon. From its subtle brilliance to its razor-sharp form, it was the most elegant technique he had ever witnessed—even surpassing the Dragon Ring Sword.
It left a profound impression on him.
He had personally held and wielded an ultimate technique he had only ever heard of in legends. A faint trace of regret flickered across Jeong Yeon-shin's face; he sensed that such an opportunity might never come again.
"If you choose to be a thug rather than a martial artist, then you deserve to be treated as such."
The voice was smooth yet chilling—a sharp rebuke directed at the Lord of the Dark Night Hall, whose severed head now lay detached from his body.
Jeong Yeon-shin quickly looked up.
He saw a man standing upside down, his feet firmly planted on the underside of a thick tree branch.
Though his entire body was shrouded in a pitch-black robe, an aura of subtle elegance radiated from him. He seemed to have no intention of standing face-to-face with Jeong Yeon-shin.
He was the most noble figure in the Divine Sword Corps of the Desolate Fortress.
The eyes of Jin Myeong-jo, the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon, slowly shifted upward.
To Jeong Yeon-shin, those blood-red eyes seemed to be looking down at him. Perhaps because he had just unleashed an internal energy technique on par with the Invisible Sword in an instant, the crimson glow in his eyes refused to fade.
Hanging upside down also seemed to be his unique method of cooling the heat in his upper dantian through his cultivation method.
"It suits you well. You won't be needing a spare black robe."
He was referring to the purple silk robe. To Jeong Yeon-shin, those words carried more weight than any lavish praise.
"Senior Jin."
Jeong Yeon-shin clasped his hands together toward him, offering a rare, deeply respectful salute.
"Thanks to you, I managed to escape danger."
"You did well."
"It was all thanks to the Dark Night Radiant Blood Magic Sword. I was on the verge of losing my life, but it proved incredibly useful."
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke with absolute sincerity.
He had just survived a single-clash duel against an absolute master of the Jianghu, one of the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens. Not only was his true qi completely depleted, but his internal injuries had also compounded.
In such a state, no one could have guaranteed his survival. He truly could have died.
Jin Myeong-jo seemed to think otherwise.
"Too much humility is also a flaw. It was your talent with the sword that carried you through."
"No, Senior. Your Dark Night Radiant Blood Magic Sword truly lives up to its reputation. In terms of elegance, there is nothing in this world that can compare..."
They exchanged brief inquiries about each other's well-being, quietly trading praise back and forth. Jeong Yeon-shin repeatedly uttered the six-character name of the world-renowned ultimate technique.
The demon's sword that sparkles with blood in the night sky. No name could roll off the tongue more perfectly. He began to seriously contemplate the creation of his own Invisible Sword.
"If one shapes a sword with internal energy, the depletion of true qi..."
As Jeong Yeon-shin spoke in a quiet, measured tone, Jin Myeong-jo, who had been silent for a while, suddenly cut in.
"Have you always been this talkative?"
"Pardon?"
"...You rarely take care of your own body. Even when you slew the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect, you were in terrible shape. Your internal injuries must be severe right now as well."
Jeong Yeon-shin was inwardly impressed. The man's insight was absolute.
"I will stand guard. Begin your Qi Meditation."
Flutter—
His pitch-black robes whipped in the wind.
With a few swift leaps off the trunk of the ancient tree, Jin Myeong-jo soared upward.
He ascended to the highest branch of the tallest tree in the vicinity, placing himself as far from Jeong Yeon-shin as possible.
"Once you recover your internal energy, we will return separately," his low voice drifted down.
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly.
"Why is that?"
"Hmm."
"..."
"...There is no longer any enemy nearby who can threaten your current level of achievement. To dismantle the Net of Heaven and Earth quickly, it is better for us to disperse. This journey into the Jianghu was an exception; normally, Black Rank experts do not travel together. It is not a matter of pride, but rather the same logic as not tying two cannons together in the military. It is highly foolish for those capable of unleashing wide-area ultimate techniques to move as one. It is only right that we meet up later... but if you have a different opinion, I will listen."
His cool voice drifted down smoothly.
Every single word was undeniably correct.
It was a rare, long-winded explanation from a senior who was usually so taciturn, but Jeong Yeon-shin could feel the underlying warmth in his quiet persuasion.
It was a virtue rarely found in bellicose powerhouses. When his maternal uncle Ma Jin, who was naturally easygoing, handed over the duties of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, it had been nothing like this.
"...I have no objections. Let us do that."
Jeong Yeon-shin clasped his hands in salute once more, but only an icy urge to focus on his cultivation returned in response.
Could there be anyone more suited to be the direct deputy commander under the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps?
While most would let praise go to their heads, Jin Myeong-jo strictly separated public duty from private matters, all while showing consideration for his junior's cultivation.
And this was right after the head of none other than a Lord of the Thirteen Heavens had been severed.
'As expected...'
Though the personnel decisions of the Divine Sword Corps might not align solely with the Commander's wishes, Jeong Yeon-shin had learned a great lesson today.
*
Back on the ground where Jeong Yeon-shin had departed.
In a corner of the clearing, completely overturned and devastated.
A loud commotion arose amidst the dust that softly absorbed the light of the setting sun.
One of the two men who had been watching the peerless battle from a distance, Yeon So-ha, the Keen Broom of the Divine Sword, threw a punch into the empty air.
"Whoa, whoa...! Namgung's First Sword is dead! I really didn't expect him to win this! Once this spreads through the Jianghu, it's going to cause an absolute uproar...!"
This reaction came after a very long silence, having just witnessed the life-and-death duel between Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Mu-jin.
With even the World's Greatest Archer lending a hand in the battle, any genius with a modicum of perception would be left with the lingering afterimages of those peerless masters dancing before their eyes.
Even if the inspiration was not immediately graspable, they had to gather their insights.
"Hey, acting so rowdy in front of a dead man is a bit much."
Yong Hee-myung shook his head.
Swoosh—
A dusty wind carrying their voices rolled Namgung Mu-jin's severed head across the ground.
The residual force of the peerless masters' fa jin lingered as a whirlwind, drawing a faint vortex in the air.
Yeon So-ha, the Blue-Ranked genius of the Desolate Fortress, could not hide his excitement.
"They say he's a master of short, decisive battles... He doesn't fight for seven days and seven nights like you, Great Hero Yong, does he? Even if he wasn't poisoned like a certain someone."
"As you know, So-ha, this elegant Commander has a knack for making friends of his enemies and enjoying martial arts..."
"Let's not sugarcoat it. Calling the mockery of enemies 'elegance'—I'd be terrified if Commander Jeong heard you. I heard that even the Dragon Ring Sword, which is highly praised as a peerless ultimate technique under heaven, was intentionally made flashy just to tease people."
"Hmm."
"But what was that earlier? The sword stance the Commander of the Demonlight Wing used when controlling the Lord of the Dark Night Hall's Shooting the Moon. It felt similar to the Imperial Sword Form."
"I believe it is a stance I heard of while recovering at the Gate of the Heavenly Pillar. Was it called Qilin's Judgment? Seeing it today, it seems the Flash Art lineage is the orthodox one."
Yong Hee-myung, arms crossed, glanced at Namgung Mu-jin's headless corpse. Yeon So-ha rolled his eyes for a moment before letting out an exclamation.
"Ah, the Azure Qilin."
"...Anyway, he must have gone to pursue the Lord of the Dark Night Hall now, right? I heard Brightfolk experts can add the natural qi of the forest to their lightness skills. Is it even possible to catch him?"
"Who knows. The distance between them has grown too wide, and even if he can't do anything about it right now, it doesn't really matter..."
At the feet of Yong Hee-myung, who spoke nonchalantly, faint dust swirled lightly like fallen leaves.
"To ask for more would be greedy. It's time for the Flash Art to rest a bit too."
"I suppose so. Think of how much he suffered traveling all the way from Sichuan to here, just to rescue one clumsy Commander."
"Your words are increasingly crossing the line, aren't they? First calling me a frayed rope, then 'Great Hero Yong'..."
"Oh, come on, it's a joke, a joke."
Yeon So-ha shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand dismissively.
"More importantly, are you cultivating properly? How embarrassing would it be if you got taken down by some random thug here? My energy is completely spent."
"Don't worry. The Flash Art's Great Heavenly Cycle was truly magnificent. In about two hours, I will return to being invincible under heaven."
["A mere two hours!"]
Suddenly, a deep, booming echo resounded from all directions. By now, the dark night air had begun to dye the sky black.
["I cannot help but wonder what on earth your body is made of. To withstand so much poison and countless blades."]
The air vibrated with a low hum.
The wave of energy unleashed by the Six Harmonies Sound Transmission was so incredibly dense that it created the illusion of the sky rippling.
Thud. Thud.
A massive silhouette of a man walked forward, framed against the fading sunset.
His steps were unhesitating. The sight of him dragging a young boy by the scruff of his neck was overwhelming.
[...]
Suddenly, the giant figure stared at a single spot—the direction of Namgung Mu-jin's severed head. In that instant, a thick, heavy breath escaped the figure's mouth.
His internal energy breathing was so deep that dust rose along with his white breath.
Yeon So-ha's face turned pale.
"The Lord of the Martial Dragon... Association...?"
["Whatever trick you used, it was quite impressive! I did not expect the Ancient Sword to descend from Mount Wudang!"]
Stopping in his tracks, the figure grabbed the boy by both shoulders and hoisted him up.
He did not seem to be using him as a hostage. The boy's Taoist robe, embroidered with a sword and a crane, crumpled helplessly before being torn apart along with his body in an instant.
Riiip—!
He was split completely in half.
At the same time, the boy's body vanished without a trace. Only a transparent shockwave exploded with a bang in that spot.
Yeon So-ha's hand, which had gripped his sword hilt before he even realized it, trembled slightly.
The Lord of the Martial Dragon Association of the Thirteen Heavens.
His very existence was a taboo in the Jianghu. It was because the master of a great sect denied the bond of master and disciple.
A man who had mastered a hundred divine arts from all kinds of sects on his own. He was rarely even mentioned when gossips discussed the strongest under heaven.
"Just because you defeated the Nascent Soul of the Ancient Sword..."
Yong Hee-myung curled his lips into a deliberately cheerful smile.
"Indeed, you strong bastards are throwing quite a feast. Was being beaten to a pulp by me that resentful?"
["Your bluffing is quite something."]
The Lord of the Martial Dragon Association laughed heartily.
["Recite the mnemonic of the Dragon Ring Sword first. I shall wait for about an hour."]
His words and actions were utterly outrageous, bordering on the absolute peak of the unorthodox and wicked paths.
It was then.
The silhouette of the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association suddenly fell silent. At the same time, a soft thud echoed.
A head tumbled onto the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop right next to Namgung Mu-jin's head.
Long ears, faded white hair, and a pale, bloodless face.
It was the head of the Lord of the Dark Night Hall.
Thud.
A handsome young man, with a purple silk robe draped loosely over his shoulders, landed beside the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
And there were more.
The footsteps that had just sounded did not belong to him alone.
Walking forward, directly facing the faint rays of the setting sun, were eleven others.
They emitted no particular wave of energy. Only the flags draped casually or held straight over their shoulders fluttered loudly in the wind, along with their sleeves stained a dark, blackish-red.
Yong Hee-myung, with them at his back, furrowed his brow.
"These bastards...?"
A total of twelve people had arrived at the same time.
It was clear they had put the safety of their Commander on the back burner.
After all, the Black Ranks of the Desolate Fortress were all fanatics when it came to martial arts. Those so-called seniors must have surrounded the Flash Art, showering him with questions about today's battle.
Knowing their own guilt, they all kept their mouths shut with utter shamelessness. It was truly an embarrassing sight.
Then,
Jeong Yeon-shin took a step forward.
His hand was resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist. Standing at the forefront like a wall felt entirely natural. No one stopped him.
["...I have stepped into a place I should not have."]
The silhouette of the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association began to blur. Yong Hee-myung gestured toward him with his chin.
"Why don't you take the deceased's body with you? Namgung's First Sword, I mean."
["The body?"]
"Because the head already has another owner."
["...We shall meet again."]
That was the end of it.
The silhouette of the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association vanished on the spot. It was a body protection scripture that no one would dare try to pursue—a Transposition close to absolute mastery.
"Shall I go?"
Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly. He looked ready to actually hunt down the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association and bring back his head.
With eleven Black Ranks at his back, what could possibly be impossible?
In that moment, Yong Hee-myung burst into a hearty laugh.
He turned around, patting Jeong Yeon-shin on the shoulder, but the purple silk robe wrapping the young man's shoulders did not budge in the slightest. Yong Hee-myung's hand was left hanging awkwardly.
He shook his head slightly.
"If he fought back, that would be one thing, but how can we catch someone who is running away? Especially when you don't even have Shooting the Moon to use. Besides, the head of the World's Greatest Archer alone is astonishing enough. The Lord of the Martial Dragon Association lost face big time today."
Yong Hee-myung said, brushing off his sleeves.
Soon, the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps raised his head slightly and made eye contact with the various unit commanders.
Starting from Ak Su-rim and Hahu Wi-jin, passing through the Commander of the Dragon-Treading Unit Wiji Geuk and the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit Jin Myeong-jo, all the way to Jeong Yeon-shin—the faces of the twelve. At this moment, upon the clay-colored ruins, the grandest Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall in history stood erected.
It was incredibly quiet.
The sunset surrounding them receded like gentle ripples.
"The Divine Sword Corps."
Yong Hee-myung smiled.
That single phrase was the end. The masters of the Divine Sword Corps fell silent for a moment.
Until the night sky, mottled with starlight like the Jianghu surrounding the Desolate Fortress, blanketed them all.