Chapter 425: Martial Lineage (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 425: Martial Lineage (6)
Two tall figures gazed into the distance.
They shared bold features and high-bridged noses, their facial structures remarkably similar. Yet, to say they stood side by side would be a stretch, given the crooked posture of the young man clad in the blue martial uniform of the Desolate Fortress.
He stood a step back and at an angle, as if desperate to avoid any association with the older man.
The older man spoke first.
"Is it truly alright for you to disobey your unit commander's orders like this? How long has it been since you were told to return to the main fortress, yet here you are, wandering the world again?"
"Perhaps you wouldn't know, given that your worldly knowledge is as stagnant as a deep well, but from the Blue Rank upward in the Desolate Fortress, solo missions are permitted. We assess the situation, act at our own discretion, and submit a report afterward. Whether the higher-ups decide to discipline or reward us is up to them."
"I was once the king of the Shandong martial world. I have little reason to care about the conduct of the Desolate Fortress's underlings. Still, it seems far freer than a noble clan. Back when I led the Hwangbo Clan, the Desolate Fortress was run like a strict military camp..."
"Once you step into the Jianghu, daily life becomes a battlefield. Unlike the pampered pigs of the noble clans, we have plenty of enemies. Naturally, our freedom to act must be just as vast."
The young man's words, delivered with a listless air, drifted freely between politeness and sarcasm.
The deep shadows under his eyes and the way he idly chewed on a bright red poppy flower made his insolent behavior seem entirely natural.
The older man snorted like a grumpy elder.
"What a foul mouth."
"And what are you doing here, Grandfather? You went through all the trouble of undergoing rejuvenation. If I were you, instead of tailing a grandson who severed ties with the family, I'd be enjoying a life of sheer decadence down in Hangzhou."
"Decadence? I'd sooner hang you from a tree branch than indulge in meat and wine."
With Dengfeng County at their backs, the grandfather and grandson stared out at the distant plains.
Lazy Flame Dragon of the Desolate Fortress's Demonlight Wing.
And the former Hwangbo Clan Head, Hwangbo Gon, the King of Divine Wisdom.
Jinan of Shandong lay in the direction of their gaze.
It was the very place where the Hwangbo Clan had once flourished with absolute, unrivaled power. Yet, the wind blowing toward them at this moment brought only a hollow dampness before dispersing into nothing.
"Indeed... severing ties. Is that why you discarded your four-character name? The youngsters of the Desolate Fortress don't seem to know."
"Well, yes."
"Why?"
"My so-called family members were privately exploiting the commoners for forced labor, and even as the eldest son, I couldn't say a single word against it. My own life, with its set expiration date, was far more precious to me than playing the hero."
"..."
"The name Hwangbo has quite a long history, doesn't it? Whether it's my deceased family or myself, we are far too petty and base to inherit the name our ancestors built."
"Yet you seem to be playing the warrior of the Desolate Fortress quite well," the King of Divine Wisdom remarked casually.
Lazy Flame Dragon did not reply. He merely curled the corner of his mouth, a poppy leaf still clamped between his teeth.
"Even so, living without a name is excessive. You are the eldest son of the foremost clan in Shandong."
"How can a ruined clan be the foremost clan of Shandong? In any case, until I discover my heavenly mandate, I am simply Lazy Flame Dragon."
"If you insist on dying like that, at least leave behind some offspring before you go. I have no intention of remarrying, so I must at least pass down a name to your child."
"Don't talk nonsense. Seeing how our unit commander's kicking techniques improve by leaps and bounds every single day, anyone would find it hard to leave a child to grow up fatherless."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm leaving now. Take care."
Giving the King of Divine Wisdom a half-hearted nod, Lazy Flame Dragon turned around.
A young man wearing a hero's headband and an elegant girl in a white martial uniform were waiting for him.
They stood alongside three Desolate Fortress steeds that were snorting restlessly.
The King of Divine Wisdom called out to his grandson's retreating back.
"Can a fellow who cannot even achieve the Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak do anything more valuable than leaving behind his seed? You must know all too well that your Qi is needlessly bloated."
"Our unit commander used to beat the crap out of so-called supreme masters even before achieving the Unity of Essence, Qi, and Spirit. What's the big deal about some silly Three Flowers Gathering or whatever..."
Muttering a half-hearted reply, Lazy Flame Dragon grumbled as he mounted his horse.
"Traveling with people whose internal energy mastery is so shallow is incredibly inconvenient. What's so hard about running all day with lightness skills that we have to use a post station?"
"Please shut your mouth. The smell of poppies is suffocating."
The hair of the White Cat, Shin So-bin, swayed from side to side as she shook her head and urged her horse forward.
Soon, the three riders began to gallop across the wilderness, Heonwon Chang's hearty laughter trailing behind the dust kicked up by their horses' hooves.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin sat quietly before a round wooden table when a sudden doubt crossed his mind. He had heard that many Shaolin monks belonged to the Brightfolk.
He had assumed Shaolin, like the Desolate Fortress, would avoid using wood. Yet, from the pavilions to the tables, almost everything was made of wood, just like any ordinary temple.
"The Buddha is one who has severed the cycle of reincarnation. If one enters the Buddhist priesthood to follow Him, it is only right to cast aside one's worldly customs."
The speaker was a one-eyed, armless monk.
The Divine Monk Beomheo, Abbot of Shaolin.
Jeong Yeon-shin was reflected clearly in the old monk's single eye.
Had he mastered the Buddhist power of telepathy? It was a remark that could not have been made without peering directly into his mind.
As expected...
It was exactly as the rumors from his childhood described. A high monk of Shaolin whose profound cultivation had granted him the Six Supernatural Powers. Respect welled in Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.
The Shaolin Abbot's single eye crinkled gently.
"Do not be surprised. Everyone asks that."
His voice was so deep that it was hard to tell if he was joking or serious. Just as Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly, Abbot Beomheo asked abruptly,
"How was your journey up? It seems this is your first time at Shaolin."
"It looked peaceful from the outside, but once I entered, I found the mountain terrain to be quite rugged. Had I climbed it as a child, my father might have just abandoned me here."
He inwardly thought he had delivered a rather sophisticated joke.
After all, he had picked up a bit of wit and elegance from watching Yong Hee-myung, the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. However, none of the old masters of the Nine Sects laughed.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly realized that these were absolute masters, bound to be thoroughly acquainted with the personal histories of all notable Jianghu figures.
"He fits the entire Jianghu into a few words," the Ancient Sword muttered.
Soon after, Abbot Beomheo's gaze slowly swept over the room. The absolute masters of Wudang, Mount Hua, Qingcheng, and Emei met his gaze calmly.
"A Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress has joined us. It seems it is time to discuss the order of proceedings."
"We must remember the original purpose of this Mount Hua Agreement. It is to prevent a bloodbath in the Jianghu like the destruction of the Hwangbo Clan. Even if the rules of this martial tournament dictate a life-and-death duel, we must not simply stand by and watch the deaths of various martial artists."
Abbess Baekyak took up Abbot Beomheo's words.
The Thunderbolt Guanyin of the Emei Sect seemed wary of unnecessary blood being spilled over the grudge between the Desolate Fortress and the Peng Clan.
It was a sentiment fitting for a great master of the Sichuan lands. The gentleman of the Jeong Clan was deeply moved.
"The Abbess is correct. Even if they have taken up blades for personal reasons, they still possess lives no different from the beasts of the field. Since I am the one who instigated this, it is only right that I show them mercy."
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke while thinking of the wild boars on the mountain behind the Jeong Family Manor.
Naturally, the benevolent gaze of the Emei Sect Leader turned toward him. It felt as though he were receiving praise from a grandmother he had never met.
"He is sincere. He has transcended the limitations of his bloodline."
Perfected Clear Water of the Qingcheng Sect, whose face had been stiff the entire time, parted his lips slightly in a rare gesture. It was typical of the Brightfolk to express admiration without concealment.
The gathering of the absolute masters of the Jianghu proceeded in this manner.
"We will need mediators, yes? I shall instruct our sect's Sword Absolute to keep watch."
"The Six Kings martial lineage has arrived at the Green Jade Sword Manor. One of us must oversee their duel. Their fast sword is incredibly swift..."
"Since you mentioned it, please take charge of that matter, Ancient Sword. Your Tai Chi Chuan will be able to deflect it more gently than our sect's Azure Cloud Red Sunset Sword."
Low voices murmured back and forth.
As leaders of the great sects, they proceeded to establish the rules of the Mount Hua Agreement's tournament and determine the matchups.
Before Abbot Beomheo, a letter was suspended in midair via Void Grab, though no one had seen him execute the technique.
It was the roster of the various martial sects staying at the Green Jade Sword Manor at the foot of Mount Song. The names were countless.
"It would be best to arrange the matchups like this."
"That seems a bit awkward. The Nine Sects and the Desolate Fortress will all be scattered."
"The sooner the bleeding stops, the better."
Lady Yul-ha pointed out the strokes of the Ancient Sword's brush, but the face of the Wudang immortal, who had assumed the form of a young Taoist boy, showed only stubborn resolve.
At this moment, their utmost priority was to ensure that no innocent victims were caught in the crossfire of the duels between the great sects.
Strictly speaking, the other sects were merely side notes to the tournament, which had been organized to punish the leadership of the Peng Clan without shedding excessive blood. That was the reality.
Once the rumors spread, people had flocked here to broaden their horizons, make a name for themselves, and seize whatever benefits might come of it. Such people did not even register in the eyes of the Nine Sects and the Desolate Fortress.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt a strange sensation.
From where he sat, he was looking down at the Jianghu, watching it sway like waves in response to the decisions of these absolute masters of the Nine Sects—masters who harbored no particular malice. This, too, was the Jianghu of the Purple Rank.
It is too high. And...
Dangerous.
The position he had attained was dangerous, as was the power of the absolute peak of the Jianghu, which could effortlessly set up a stage of this scale.
The same would hold true for the Thirteen Heavens, including Taemo Mountain Fortress and Heaven's Bane. He was now a Purple Rank warrior. It was only right that he remain vigilant of the entire Jianghu.
Ah.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly realized. He must not act merely as an absolute master with broad influence over the Murim, but as a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress.
As the party who had inherited the Mount Hua Agreement, he needed to maintain a distinct attitude.
"Benefactor Jeong."
"Yes, Abbot."
"Please grant me one request," Abbot Beomheo said.
Even with his empty sleeves draped limply over the armrests of his chair, he exuded a quiet, heavy presence.
Jeong Yeon-shin had to exert a considerable amount of energy just to meet the abbot's single eye.
"Unless there is some extraordinary disturbance, we must all exercise restraint."
The single thread of his voice seemed to part the dust drifting through the room.
It was a voice laden with profound wisdom rather than raw power. Jeong Yeon-shin immediately understood the Shaolin Abbot's intent.
They were, quite literally, the absolute masters of the Murim.
Even their most trivial actions would spark countless speculations.
Whom they spoke with, what they discussed, and whose company they kept—such details would dictate the movements of various sects and merchant groups.
For everything decided in this meeting hall to serve its purpose, preventing any variables beforehand was the first priority.
A blue light flashed in Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes—a gleam of understanding.
"I have exercised restraint for fifteen years. You need not worry, Abbot."
He gave his calm assurance.
* * *
The Green Jade Sword Manor.
This was the estate where the Mount Hua Agreement would soon take place. It boasted eight training grounds facing all directions.
Even so, the clamor showed no signs of dying down, thanks to the martial artists who had flocked from every corner of the vast Jianghu. The boisterous noise threatened to reach the hazy full moon.
"Another drink!"
"Hold on a moment. It looks like that fellow is circulating his Small Heavenly Cycle right now..."
"There's no way he'd be that reckless."
People with vastly different martial arts and even accents had gathered.
Discussions on the sword, duels, and drinking parties took place day after day. Among them were those who had previously been subjects of mere speculation, like dragons hidden in the clouds.
"Is that woman the Long Staff...?"
"Quiet down. She is of the imperial Ju family. It's said the Emperor himself requested the Wudang Sect Leader to accept her as a disciple..."
On the edge of a high-tiled roof, a woman sat with one leg bent, glancing down. She held a liquor flask in her hand.
The white sleeves of her robe, embroidered with the pine trees characteristic of the Wudang Sect, flowed down as smoothly as court attire.
Even though a translucent veil covered her face, her eyes were clearly visible. The light in them was exceptionally dark and deep.
The whispering martial artists hastily avoided her gaze.
The Long Staff of Wudang.
She was scheduled to participate in the Mount Hua Agreement alongside the Ancient Sword.
She was not the only one. In the banquet hall beneath the eaves, voices rose in praise of Mount Hua's Sword Absolute, the Three-Step Sword Dragon, and the Orchid Sword.
Surrounded by the martial artists of Shaanxi, the three men kept their backs as straight as plum blossom branches. Rather than arrogant, they appeared noble, making their proud posture seem all the more natural.
"The Des...? It's the Desolate Fortress!"
"Lazy Flame Dragon!"
It was no different when the party from the Desolate Fortress entered the Green Jade Sword Manor. The experts of the great sects kept their distance from one another, wary of sparking rumors ahead of such a major event.
Without even looking at one another's faces, they dominated the surrounding space using only their sense of Qi, sizing up those they might have to face in the future.
Looking around, Lazy Flame Dragon's lips curled into a crooked smirk.
"The immortals of the Nine Sects have descended from the clouds."
"Where is the Peng Clan? What about our unit commander? Can you feel any Qi waves? My grandfather told me..."
Shin So-bin looked around restlessly before suddenly falling silent.
A chilly draft seemed to tap her on the back. It felt as though an invisible wall had surrounded them. The humid summer breeze blew no longer.
She was suddenly enveloped by a man's shadow.
"Are you the granddaughter of the Desolate Fortress's Elder Council Head? You were born with an excellent sense of Qi. Then again, blood does not lie."
A heavy voice sliced through the air.
In that instant, Shin So-bin heard a single, choked word squeezed out like a groan from afar.
Great Severing Tyrant Blade.
It was the moniker of the Peng Family Head, a man said to have once stood as an equal to the Namgung Clan Head. It was a name that would strike any martial artist like the King of the Underworld himself had arrived.
Immediately after, a massive hand gripped the back of her neck.
Though the strike was undoubtedly as fast as a flash of light, it felt incredibly slow. The perception of time belonging to an absolute master created a terrifying disconnect in the senses of an underling.
"What did your grandfather tell you?"
Shin So-bin could not answer. To be precise, she had no time to do so.
Suddenly, a shadow that seemed to originate from behind the Peng Family Head swallowed the silhouette of the Great Severing Tyrant Blade. In an instant, the moonlight pouring over the surroundings turned a faint shade of purple.
"...Who are you?" the Peng Family Head asked.
"..."
It was clear what was happening. Someone else had taken up a position behind the Peng Family Head, just as he had taken up a position behind Shin So-bin. A suffocating silence froze the surroundings.
"Right here."
A familiar voice struck Shin So-bin's ears. The tone was different from usual.
An incredibly fierce, domineering aura surged forth. The night air, laden with the faint moonlight, rippled like waves.
"I declare the opening of the Mount Hua Agreement."
"What...?"
"Peng Family Head, draw your blade. The Desolate Fortress accepts your challenge."