Chapter 409: Beijing
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 409: Beijing
A crystalline river flowed, its winding waters wrapping around the Divine Sword Pavilion—a name Yong Hee-myung had chosen on a whim. The gentle, crisp babbling of the stream seeped into the air, ringing with a clear resonance.
It was a drinking gathering. Every martial artist present was fully capable of expelling the alcohol from their bodies, but no true master would employ their internal energy to sober up while drinking with their comrades.
The Divine Sword Corps was no exception.
Jeong Yeon-shin was unaccustomed to alcohol. His father, Jeong Pan-ak, had never even taught him proper drinking etiquette.
He was simply holding his ground, enduring it as an adult should.
After all, his direct superior, the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, was a likable man and a master of a higher caliber. They had shared mnemonics and martial insights. Above all, he was a Purple Rank warrior who held immense sway over Yeon-shin's future standing within the fortress.
'The life of an adult who has undergone the Coming-of-Age Ceremony...'
Yeon-shin shook his head with a bitter, inward sigh. How exhausting.
His mind felt like a giant dandelion seed drifting aimlessly on the wind. It was reminiscent of his childhood, riding a Dano Festival swing alone at dusk, soaring toward the very edge of the sky.
This was undoubtedly it—the fabled intoxication that never failed to appear in the tales of heroes and legends.
Yeon-shin straightened his back, maintaining perfect posture.
Though his mind was hazy, it was nothing to a battle-hardened swordsman like the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
It was certainly less intense than the time he had snatched and eaten the red flower from the Lazy Flame Dragon.
In fact, he was so unfazed that whoever was chattering beside him didn't bother him in the slightest.
"The name of the Five Bright Vessels shakes the Jianghu, and they say the youngest martial artist stands at its forefront. Flash Art, the Lotus Nezha. That must surely refer to you."
The voice came from directly to Yeon-shin's left. Ak Su-rim was sitting on his right, but the moment she glanced at the young man's face, she clamped her mouth shut.
"I heard your talent is extraordinary. It was my first time seeing Sect Leader Yul-ha praise someone else's talent for the sword so highly."
A young Taoist tapped his wine cup with a pale index finger, seemingly ignoring Yeon-shin's presence.
A sword engraved with pine patterns was loosely slung around his waist—a clear sign he belonged to the Wudang Sect.
There was no other sect in the Martial World whose members could wield a Songmun Ancient Sword while playing the part of a Taoist priest.
Sitting opposite him, Yong Hee-myung, the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, straightened his posture, the corners of his lips curling upward.
"It seems even your renowned Wudang Tai Chi Chuan cannot brush aside the passage of time."
"What was that?"
"You've grown quite soft. Keeping up appearances and all."
"Hmph. No matter how strong you may be, you dare not speak so lightly of my sect's martial attainments," the young Taoist snorted.
"Do not judge Wudang by looking at me. I am merely a martial artist who channels the profound mysteries of Taoism into swordplay. We are entirely different from those who drape the skin of a Taoist priest over the disciples of a sword sect that indulges in slaughter."
"You refuse to yield even a single word. Are you referring to those Taoist disciples who do not train in martial arts, but only pursue enlightenment?"
"Indeed. The immortals who ascend Heavenly Pillar Peak on Mount Wudang to cultivate the Way are the true Wudang. They are a Taiji that spins leisurely, untouched by the currents of the world. Their noble spirits can easily brush aside the passage of time."
An old, weathered tone overlapped with his youthful voice.
This was a figure possessing a Body Protection Scripture profound enough to slip into the Divine Sword Pavilion undetected, yet here he was, boasting about disciples who didn't even practice martial arts.
Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly to the side.
Meanwhile, Yong Hee-myung let out a chuckle.
"Well... I stand corrected. You haven't changed a bit."
"I only speak the truth. Just as I did with this child here. Since he took the heads of the Lord of the Dark Night Hall and Namgung Mu-jin all by himself, it seems I made the right choice in coming down personally as an envoy."
The young Taoist traced a finger around the rim of his wine cup. In an instant, the condensation clinging to the outside of the cup moved on its own, sliding into the liquor.
Not a single trace of energy could be felt. A spark of interest flickered in Yeon-shin's hazy eyes.
"An envoy...?"
"I have come to negotiate the terms of the duel for the Mount Hua Agreement. Did you not summon me?"
In that moment, the young Taoist's eyes met Yeon-shin's.
"With a single word, you moved the Nine Sects and dispersed the forces of the Net of Heaven and Earth. By merely moving your throat a few times, you set the great powers of the world in motion. You have essentially demonstrated the mystery of Four Ounces Deflecting a Thousand Pounds upon the chaotic Jianghu. Are you prepared to take responsibility?"
"Responsibility...?"
"Since you set the Mount Hua Agreement in motion, you must naturally bear the consequences. While your martial prowess in slaying the World's Greatest Bow and Namgung's First Sword in succession is truly astonishing, the price for using the Nine Sects for your personal ends after achieving such a great feat will not be light."
"A great feat?"
Yeon-shin questioned slowly.
Perhaps it was because he had tasted a fraction of the Purple Rank's Jianghu, but he did not consider his achievements to be particularly grand.
Aside from the old man of the Pure Demon Alliance, who had little to show for his reputation, there was virtually no peerless master in the world who was easy to deal with.
Even when facing the Lord of the Tenth Sect, Yeon-shin had been cornered multiple times.
As for the Lord of the Dark Night Hall and Namgung Mu-jin, whom he had slain recently...
They had kept the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps pinned down for dozens of days, exhausting all their ultimate techniques in an attempt to kill him.
Neither of them could possibly have been in peak condition. It was even said that the Lord of the Dark Night Hall had displayed divine skill by relentlessly firing his Ten-Mile One Kill from twenty miles away.
In Yeon-shin's mind, he had merely laid his spoon upon a feast his direct superior had spent a long time preparing.
"Are you questioning me now?"
Meanwhile, the young Taoist's expression, which had been as serene as a clear mirror and still water, faltered slightly.
"To think someone of the Ma Clan's bloodline would know humility...?"
"It is indeed a tremendously great feat," Yong Hee-myung interjected. "Even if the heavens aligned, there is only one Black Sword under my command capable of facing two peerless masters alone and slaying them in succession."
Though he won't be a Black Sword or under my command for much longer— Yong Hee-myung finished the thought internally before asking the young Taoist, "But what do you mean by saying the price will not be light?"
"...It means we have no intention of taking the Desolate Fortress's White, Blue, Black, and Purple ranks lightly. We will handpick the finest disciples of our sects to send forth, and deep discussions will take place among the various sect leaders to select those who can match your Purple Ranks. Even on Mount Wudang, we have heard occasional rumors of the Flash Art's fame. Isn't the situation now such that even reasonably renowned martial artists must go out of their way to avoid the Commander of the Demonlight Wing?"
"That may be true, but..."
"In sending our disciples to the duel, we have decided to follow the conventions of the Jianghu. White-Ranked warriors will be faced by second-generation disciples, Blue-Ranked warriors by first-generation disciples, and those of Unit Commander rank will be matched against senior, outstanding disciples of the first generation who are candidates for sect leadership. As for the Purple Ranks, the sect leaders and elders of the same generation must step forward."
The young Taoist could not finish his sentence. Yeon-shin had suddenly spoken up while stroking his pitch-black sleeve.
"For the Black Rank, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing will step forward."
"...?"
"A native of Xinye County, Henan, Jeong Yeon-shin of the black robe..."
His words drifted and broke. His thoughts were floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.
While his mind was in a clamor, the surrounding air sank into a profound silence.
Before anyone knew it, the young Taoist had shut his mouth, his face slightly blank. That expression suited his youthful appearance quite well.
Yeon-shin glanced at his direct superior sitting opposite him.
"I will take responsibility. The Desolate Fortress will not lose."
"That's a bit..."
Just as a look of hesitation crossed Yong Hee-myung's face, Yeon-shin's eyes suddenly sharpened.
"Commander."
"Speak."
"Is this not a duel where we must win at least two out of the four ranks—White, Blue, Black, and Purple?"
"That is correct. And while I am deeply grateful to you for saving my life..."
"If the Desolate Fortress loses, the fate of our fortress's Purple Rank warriors will, even if only once, be decided according to the will of the Orthodox Factions. This is not a mere private duel to compare martial skills. It is an affair of state. I do not know who on earth made such a bizarre promise, but they ought to feel ashamed. And I, who used that promise to my advantage, must also deeply reflect on my actions."
Yeon-shin spoke whatever came to his mind. In his drunken state, he had temporarily forgotten who the actual party to the Mount Hua Agreement was.
Yet his tone was incredibly clear, and his posture remained perfectly upright. A life of adulthood, where he had no choice but to constantly look forward to his next promotion, had made him so.
"..."
Clear sunlight dappled the back of the young Taoist's neck.
The sun, which had tilted toward the horizon before they knew it, scattered its light across the river, the wine cups, and the cool condensation clinging to them.
As Yeon-shin swept his gaze over his surroundings, the faces of his senior Unit Commanders came into view, each wearing a peculiar expression.
Beneath his smooth forehead, Hahu Wi-jin wore a look of quiet satisfaction, while Ak Su-rim seemed to be holding back a rather hearty laugh.
Yong Hee-myung let out a hollow laugh.
"I have nothing to say to that. To think you'd bring up even the old man of the previous generation..."
"Look here, Commander Yong," the young Taoist called out softly, his tone shifting slightly.
Just then.
"Ex-Excuse me..."
The voice came from the stairs leading up to the pavilion. A man clad in a yellow robe carefully scanned the area while holding a tray.
He was a waiter from the inn behind the pavilion.
"Here is the Five-Rhyme Mountain Herb Dish."
The waiter set the dish on the table and practically fled the scene.
"It's here! The dish our Flash Art loves!"
Ak Su-rim slid the wild herb dish in front of Yeon-shin.
Soon after, as if they had deliberately been keeping quiet until now, the senior Black Ranks approached their table.
The Unit Commanders under the Divine Sword Corps were not the type to walk on eggshells around other martial artists. Besides, the young Taoist was an uninvited guest to begin with.
"The Five-Rhyme Mountain Herb Dish... a wild herb delicacy of the Brightfolk. I didn't expect to find it served properly in a village like this, but I suppose it's because we're near Wuchang."
The Master of the Martial Apex Hall sat at one side of the table, his prosthetic leg clanking.
Beside him, Shin Hwang, the Commander of the Thread-Annihilation Unit, was already tilting his wine cup with hands as withered as dry wood.
"It is a dish made by a martial artist," Shin Hwang continued in a low voice.
"The narrower the intervals at which the leaves are shredded, the deeper the fragrance that infuses the herbs. It is worth testing the efficacy of our combined attack training."
The leaves were gathered together like a flower bud. It was the rare and hard-to-find Five-Rhyme Herb.
Yeon-shin stared blankly at it. Beneath the Five-Rhyme Herb lay a stir-fry of Water Spinach; together, they formed the Five-Rhyme Mountain Herb Dish.
It used to be served frequently at the luncheons of the Jeong Family Manor as a symbol of family harmony. Usually, his father, Jeong Pan-ak, along with his eldest and second eldest brothers and their wives, would each grab a leaf and pull it down.
Yong Hee-myung glanced at Yeon-shin and spoke.
"I'll take one."
"Me too." Ak Su-rim reached out.
The other Unit Commanders—including the Master of the Martial Apex Hall, Wiji Geuk of the Dragon-Treading Unit, Un So-yu of the Law Enforcement Unit, and Bukgung-a of the Wish-Fulfilling Spring—merely watched from their respective positions.
That was until Hahu Wi-jin, casting a massive shadow over them, pinched the very tip of a leaf.
Yong Hee-myung, Jeong Yeon-shin, Ak Su-rim, and Hahu Wi-jin.
A slender figure slipped in between them—a woman with ebony hair and deep blue eyes. It was Cheon So-so, the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit.
"We haven't finished our main discussion yet."
The young Taoist quietly rose from his seat.
"Since the Peng Clan played a major role in forming the Net of Heaven and Earth, your Divine Sword Corps will undoubtedly seek retribution... but spilling blood on such a massive scale in the Jianghu once again is not a wise move. What kind of karma did the annihilation of the Hwangbo Clan bring back to you? The Martial World Alliance was formed in Hanzhong to oppose the Desolate Fortress, and all sorts of sects that rarely united began to attack you."
It did not feel out of place for a Taoist of the Wudang Sect to speak of karma. It was likely because he, too, was a man of the Jianghu.
Yong Hee-myung, holding the tip of the Five-Rhyme Herb, spoke up.
"Stop beating around the bush."
"I intend to expand the scale of the Mount Hua Agreement. I will send invitations to the Eight Families as well, turning it into a grand stage of duels where the premier martial artists of each sect can vie for the title of the world's greatest. Draw your swords then. If you end up turning the entire world against you and get destroyed one by one, the Nine Sects will not be able to remain unscathed either."
"The world's greatest...? We do not have the luxury of time to leisurely enjoy such a grand feast with the people of the Jianghu."
"You may crash the event midway. Just make sure to show up," the young Taoist calmly continued.
"For the Nine Sects will be ascending anyway."