Chapter 420: Martial Lineage
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 420: Martial Lineage
Dengfeng County, Henan Province.
It was a vast and bustling city.
It enjoyed peace under the scenic backdrop of Mount Song, whose peaks rose as if gently carving into the sky. Despite a severe famine ravaging the land, no wicked heterodox sects dared to commit atrocities here.
Thus, it flourished.
This was a land where the Brightfolk monks of the Shaolin Temple nurtured the Earth Qi, however slightly.
Most commoners here could at least afford to put food in their mouths. Even when looking at the fortress-like manor standing in the middle of the city, they showed no envy or jealousy.
In fact, countless passersby would raise a single hand in a half-prayer gesture toward the plaque hanging on its main gate:
The Green Jade Sword Manor.
Built by renowned lay disciples of Shaolin, it was the mandatory lodging for any martial artist who had business at the Shaolin Temple of Mount Song.
It was similar to the custom of Mount Wudang in Huguang, where there was a strict boundary beyond which one absolutely had to relinquish their weapons.
Shaolin, the undisputed pillar of the martial world, mandated this.
Those carrying blades and swords could not mingle with the ordinary pilgrims of the Shaolin Temple. Every single armed traveler had to gather at the Green Jade Sword Manor.
Since the founding of the dynasty, this custom had become common sense in the martial world and was strictly observed—even now, as renowned figures of the Jianghu from all over the land flocked to Henan.
"Did he come again today?"
On the smoothly paved training ground of the Green Jade Sword Manor, martial artists of all descriptions gathered in small groups, whispering among themselves. They all shared a common topic of conversation.
"Yes, he did. Given his lineage, his appearance and bearing are naturally extraordinary, but they say he simply doesn't know how to give up, even after being beaten so many times."
"Isn't White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin the rising star of the Desolate Fortress? Wearing a black robe at his age, he has every right to hold his head high anywhere. I heard the former Commander of the Demonlight Wing, the Naraka Reaper, oversaw his promotion test. In terms of martial prowess, there aren't many here who could match the White Qilin."
"Even so, he wasn't strong enough to do anything against the Four Great Vajras."
"Well, that's because of the massive difference in seniority in the first place..."
"Anyway, isn't it ridiculous of them to demand that Shaolin do the imperial court's job? Asking them to bestow the Shaolin monks' secret arts on lands outside of Henan... It's not like they're the only ones who have business with the eminent martial monks."
"I can understand why they're doing it. Aren't the high-ranking officials of the imperial court completely preoccupied with the Northern Region? They've dumped the responsibility of maintaining public order in the Jianghu onto the Desolate Fortress, which is nothing more than a handful of people compared to the rest of the world."
"They're hardly a handful. Haven't you heard the rumors that Sichuan was completely devastated? The entire Jianghu is in turmoil."
"Even so, that happened far away. Aren't they failing miserably right here? With the famous figures of the orthodox factions gathering one after another, there's no way rookies like the White Qilin or those of the Flash Art Lineage can make any headway..."
They lowered their voices, their chattering blending into a disorganized clamor.
They were discussing the ongoing duels between the Desolate Fortress and the Shaolin Temple, an event taking place entirely separate from the Mount Hua Agreement.
Led by White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin, the Blue-robed Warrior Ma Se-in and the White-Ranked Warrior Ma Ung had made a formal request to Shaolin.
They asked Shaolin to bestow the secret arts of the Brightfolk monks—the very arts that nurtured Earth Qi—upon Huguang, Shaanxi, and Southern Zhili as well. In return, they would allow Shaolin's lay sects to expand into Xiangyang, Huguang Province.
Originally, this was a task that the Desolate Fortress's Immortal Wood Spirit was supposed to handle alongside the imperial court.
Or at least, it would have been, if the members of the Immortal Wood Spirit—including Ice-White Cheon So-so—had not gone missing in Sichuan. Their absence had left a massive void.
Shaolin expressed reluctance.
The proposal wasn't bad, but this was a time when all kinds of wicked heterodox sects and hidden experts were roaming the Jianghu, desperate to stockpile food.
If they dispatched their main temple disciples to various parts of the land, they would have to worry about coordinated ambushes and their monks being picked off one by one.
Even for Shaolin, the undisputed number one sect of the orthodox path, not every single disciple was a top-tier expert.
Thus, the Shaolin Abbot had asked in return:
"This old monk is far from a virtuous master. I am merely a simple monk who cannot peacefully strike his wooden fish while sending his disciples into harm's way. If it were only my own death, I could seek Nirvana with a smile... Furthermore, the lands you have proposed are far too vast for a single sect to manage. Is that not so?"
"This Namgung addresses the Abbot. The martial artists of our fortress will accompany the monks who descend the mountain and disperse alongside them. If the Desolate Fortress and Shaolin stand together, I believe few would dare to attack, no matter how chaotic the world may be."
"I know that Unit Commander Yong made a great decision to benefit the world. It is a deeply appreciated gesture."
However, it would be difficult for the Divine Sword Corps to assemble again. If the Unit Commanders gathered once more, the Desolate Fortress would surely be accused of high treason.
This was a fact that anyone with even a modicum of insight could deduce.
The chaotic times were gradually intensifying. Could a fragmented Desolate Fortress exert the same influence as before, especially when they were constantly suffering losses in strength?
Yet, the Shaolin Abbot did not reject them outright.
"Since a young man cares so deeply for the world, it would be unseemly for an old monk to worry only about the safety of his temple... Can you show me what kind of capability the Desolate Fortress possesses at this present moment?"
And so, the series of duels began.
It was a wager of sorts. If the skills of the Desolate Fortress martial artists on the front lines met Shaolin's standards at any point, the Abbot would accept Namgung Hwa-shin's proposal.
Some evaluated this as a prelude to the Mount Hua Agreement.
It was an era where all kinds of factions were constantly being founded and destroyed. Even great sects like the Thirteen Heavens, the Nine Sects, the Eight Great Families, and the Desolate Fortress experienced repeated rises and falls.
The major incident in which the Commander of the Demonlight Wing of the Desolate Fortress defeated the Lord of the Tenth Sect, the Leader of the Pure Demon Alliance, and the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect in succession was triggering a chaotic new era in the Jianghu.
Merchant groups and escort agencies that had stockpiled grain were at a loss as to which side to align themselves with, while experts with deep martial attainments and great reputations kept a close eye on the future moves of the great sects.
There were even rumors that several factions of the Thirteen Heavens and the Eight Great Families had begun forming their own Martial World Alliances.
Amidst this turbulent state of affairs, many speculated that the order of the martial world would be newly reorganized, with the Mount Hua Agreement serving as the turning point.
And this would be decided by nothing other than the sheer strength of the experts each sect possessed at this very moment.
Dengfeng County was the host location for the Mount Hua Agreement's martial arts tournament.
Naturally, many eyes were drawn to the duels between Shaolin and the Desolate Fortress.
The results were stark.
The White-Ranked Warrior Ma Ung—a young martial artist who had learned a simplified version of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art within the Desolate Ma Clan—was defeated in just twenty exchanges by a Shaolin monk of his age who had trained in the Shaolin Muscle Tendon Changing Classic.
And the young lord of the Desolate Ma Clan, the Blue-robed Warrior Ma Se-in, was unable to overcome the Young Divine Monk Gakjeong, who had restored Shaolin's secret Avalokiteshvara Azure Steel Hand.
Meanwhile, White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin took turns dueling the Shaolin Four Great Vajras, exposing the limits of his Azure Sky Boundless Sword Art to the entire world.
He suffered defeat after defeat. Nevertheless, many in the Jianghu took these results for granted and still praised Ma Se-in and Namgung Hwa-shin. This was due to their age; they were still considered rising stars.
In fact, matchmakers sent by the local influential figures of Dengfeng County swarmed them. They were, after all, prime groom candidates the likes of whom would be hard to find anywhere under the heavens.
The series of duels did not end with a single match.
As if intending to challenge until they won, the Desolate Fortress group kept sending duel invitations, and Shaolin accepted every single one. They never refused, not even once.
The affairs of the two great sects continued in this manner, with the Desolate Fortress steadily accumulating defeats.
Meanwhile, the number of martial artists flocking to Dengfeng County gradually surged.
There was even a peerless swordsman who ascended Mount Song, his movements so stealthy they deceived even the moonlight.
The Abbot's Quarters of Shaolin.
Beneath the tiled roof that drew a pale curve alongside the lunar halo, elderly voices drifted out from the antique temple pavilion.
"I hear the young lord of the Ma family is now holding his own quite well against the Young Divine Monk. The momentum of the Desolate Fortress is like a tempest. It is no wonder they dared to come to Mount Song with such demands."
An old woman's voice spoke first.
In an instant, an invisible wave swept in a circle across the open ground outside the threshold. The internal power contained within her voice was immense.
Soon after, an old man's reply gently shook the green leaves of the arborvitae trees.
"We should just let things flow as they will. What good would come of needlessly creating friction?"
"The Desolate Fortress does not think that way. We have our own karma to bear, yet they demand unconditional trust as if they are the sole protectors of the Jianghu. It makes one suspect their true intentions behind invoking the Mount Hua Agreement."
"The Mount Hua Agreement. Ah, yes, the benefactor who brought up that ancient tale..."
"He is the maternal grandson of the Hegemon Hero. I am sure you know of him, Zen Master. I heard he hails from Xinye County, right here in Henan."
"Amitabha. That is indeed a wondrous blessing."
"This is no time to smile so warmly. We must prepare."
"Your sword qi remains sharp, Benefactor, even after being suppressed for so many years. It is no wonder people call you the Sword Empress."
"I need time to hone my sword qi. Grant me access to Shaolin's Repentance Cave. I shall enter closed-door cultivation for a short while."
"Anguish stems from attachment. To win is simply to win, and to lose is simply to lose..."
"How can handing over someone of a sect leader's caliber from the Nine Sects be treated lightly?"
"The Desolate Fortress will not demand anything contrary to righteousness."
"They are, in essence, the swords of the imperial court. The martial sects of the Jianghu must not trust them blindly," the Sword Empress continued.
"In any case, if we wish to avoid any backtalk, we must defeat three of the White, Blue, Black, and Purple ranks in the duels. Aren't the Black and Purple ranks the biggest variables? I heard the Commander of the Demonlight Wing is stepping up as the Black Rank. Our first-generation disciples cannot match that child in terms of seniority and power. If we cannot match him in martial prowess, perhaps we should win him over through his heart."
"Hmm."
"The Beggar Sect Leader tipped me off that the upcoming Double Yang Festival is the anniversary of the passing of the Demonlight Wing Commander's mother. Why not have Shaolin show benevolence and perform a memorial service for her?"
"This is becoming increasingly unpleasant to hear."
"If you feel that way, my sect shall take charge of it. We will show the utmost courtesy, so please do not worry."
"Are you so afraid of losing in the Mount Hua Agreement? Did you not harbor fond feelings for the Hegemon Hero in your youth, Sword Empress?"
"That is precisely why I cannot lose."
In an instant, the voice of the Diancang Sect Leader, Sword Empress Geum Seon-seon, grew powerful and smooth. For a brief moment, she had completely reclaimed her youth.
"I do not know about you, Abbot, but I am a martial artist who hones the sword, not the Dao. Besides, it is not as if I can challenge the now old and ruined Hegemon Hero to a duel, can I?"
"Amitabha..."
"We must plan our roster assuming the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps will be the Purple Rank. I have no intention of yielding this duel to the Ancient Sword or Yul-ha, but it is only right that the one with the higher chance of winning takes on that role. My sect will also handle the memorial service for the mother of the Demonlight Wing Commander."
It was the Sword Empress's absolute declaration.
Instead of a reply, a low Buddhist chant drifted out. The pale light of the full moon quietly settled on the edge of the eaves.
* * *
The Southern Three Stations of the Forbidden City.
This was the residence of the Crown Prince. After receiving the 'fabric' from the Emperor, Jeong Yeon-shin sat face-to-face with Yong Hee-myung to decide his next course of action.
"You met the Night of the Peng Clan?"
"Yes."
"How was he?"
"He was short," Jeong Yeon-shin replied while sitting upright, his arms resting on his knees. Even without stretching them out, his limbs were noticeably long.
The corner of Yong Hee-myung's mouth twitched upward.
"Short? It seems you didn't trade any blows."
"I was talking about his combat interval."
"That's exactly why I said it. After the former Peng Clan Leader, the Ghost-Howling Hegemon, left the family, the Peng Clan made immense progress. About twenty years ago... they took in a Tibetan lama who was wandering the Central Plains as a guest. In return, that monk passed down the Bone-Shrinking Art to their family."
A lama. A term referring to a monk from a foreign land. Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes widened slightly.
"A lama's Bone-Shrinking Art...?"
"Yes, the Yoga Divine Art. That is why the Night of the Peng Clan observed your body so closely before leaving."
The Blade Marquis of the Peng Family and the Great Severing Tyrant Blade.
This father and daughter of the Peng family were called the human gods of Hebei, accompanied by rumors that they had transcended the limits of their innate martial talent through divine arts and ultimate techniques.
"They are people who can freely adjust their bodies to match their opponents. If the Blade Marquis of the Peng Family or the Great Severing Tyrant Blade faces you, both of them will likely have no choice but to adopt a slender build with long limbs. That is the only way they can match your combat interval and speed. After all, they won't be able to withstand your Brilliant River or Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style with a single, simple strike."
Yong Hee-myung said, rolling his teacup between his fingers. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Jeong Yeon-shin nodded.
"That is helpful advice. Especially since I will be facing both of them in succession," he spoke calmly.
Yong Hee-myung was set to travel far away under the Emperor's orders.
Like Ma Yeon-jeok, whose whereabouts were currently unknown, Yong Hee-myung was also said to be performing a mission in absolute secrecy as a hidden sword.
Therefore, the Purple Rank expert for the Mount Hua Agreement was Jeong Yeon-shin.
Even though he had not officially engraved the character 'Desolate' on his shoulders due to lacking the Desolate Fortress Lord's approval, he held the highest rank in the Desolate Fortress with the imperial court's endorsement.
This meant he had no trouble acting as a Purple Rank in the Jianghu.
"Facing both of them in succession?"
Yong Hee-myung tilted his head slightly.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded slowly, carrying the spirit of a grand general facing a battlefield he absolutely had to win. He recalled the appearance of the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon, Jin Myeong-jo, who was clad entirely in pitch-black.
It was said that the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit had never failed to accomplish his assigned tasks. All of the one hundred and seventy-odd matters he was involved in had ended in success.
On the other hand, Jeong Yeon-shin had once let the Seventh Apostle slip away during their first encounter.
It was a failure on the part of his maternal uncle, Ma Jin, whom he always had to look after. It was also a setback for Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been executing the mission alongside him that day.
There were few people in the world one could truly trust. One of them was the black-robed Jeong Yeon-shin.
"The Blade Marquis of the Peng Family will be no match for the Commander of the Demonlight Wing," Jeong Yeon-shin said calmly.
He had a thick bundle slung casually over one shoulder.
Inside it were the Lord of the Dark Night Hall's Fire-Governing Grand Demon Bow, Namgung's First Sword's Heavenly Sword, and a neatly folded purple robe. It was safe to say it was the most valuable travel bag in the entire Jianghu.
The Purple-Ranked Flash Art was fully prepared to depart. With the Lightness Skill: Ten-Mile Light Grace, the distance from Beijing to Henan was but a single stretch away.
Yong Hee-myung's expression turned peculiar.