Chapter 431: Grandmaster (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 431: Grandmaster (5)
Perfected Ancient Sword glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin from his seat and spoke once more.
[The Desolate Fortress has won three times, and the Peng Clan once. As there is no room for dispute regarding today's duels, the Wudang Sect hereby notarizes the victory of the Desolate Fortress in accordance with the Mount Hua Agreement. The Desolate Fortress may now prepare for the next duel, which will take place in six days.]
It was a formal Six Harmonies Sound Transmission. Even setting aside Perfected Ancient Sword's lofty seniority, this was an official declaration of the outcome of a duel between major sects.
The Orthodox Jianghu placed paramount importance on face and protocol.
What truly concluded today's duel between the Desolate Fortress and the Peng Clan was not the intervention of the Naraka Reaper, Ma Jin, but the notarization by Perfected Ancient Sword.
That was the spark.
A massive commotion erupted among the crowd, accompanied by a scattering of cheers.
"Truly magnificent!"
"...The Naraka Reaper has finally returned to the Jianghu. This is by no means good news."
"The Desolate Fortress has gained another Black Rank. This is no ordinary event. Write down the details of this duel immediately and send a messenger pigeon to headquarters."
The Naraka Reaper, Ma Jin, had defeated the Blade Marquis of the Peng Family. No one could take this lightly.
The former Commander of the Demonlight Wing, originally famous as a saber-wielder, had defeated the rising star of the Peng Clan without even drawing the saber on his back.
It was a duel that clearly demonstrated how vastly martial prowess could differ, even among those who shared the title of the Five Bright Vessels—the designation for the Jianghu's young powerhouses.
And since the Naraka Reaper could not possibly be stronger than the new Purple Rank...
Several finely dressed martial artists muttered the name of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art in deep shock.
A new divine art had emerged from a great sect that stood as a pillar of the Jianghu's order. It meant a new martial art had appeared—one they would absolutely have to account for when assessing the future landscape of the Murim.
"Acting Clan Head!"
"How could this...!"
From the Peng Clan's side, several saber-wielders clad in yellow silk robes shot onto the stage like arrows. There was one elder and four mid-ranking experts, both male and female.
Their faces stiffened as they looked at Peng Ya lying at Ma Jin's feet.
The Blade Marquis of the Peng Family, Peng Ya.
Her eyes were closed, having completely lost consciousness, and her lips were stained red from coughing up blood. On her abdomen, right where she had been struck by his hand-blade, the blunt imprint of a blade was engraved. It meant Ma Jin had executed a saber technique with his bare hands.
Sighs erupted from all corners of the spectator seats.
"Ah..."
"It wasn't even a palm technique."
It was as if he had flaunted the capabilities of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art to the entire world. It was a realm where one could freely generate all forms of Fa Jin from any part of the body. He had crushed the Peng Clan's Five Tigers Severing Door Saber with a martial prowess completely unfettered by weapons.
For Peng Ya, it would have been far less humiliating to have been defeated by a standard fist or palm technique.
"To inflict such humiliation upon us..." the old elder muttered.
Ma Jin, who was taking a step back on the stage, curled his lips into a smirk. "The Purple Rank was watching. Consider it an act of mercy."
"Mercy, you say?" the Peng Clan elder asked back, his face filled with disbelief.
The duel that had just taken place did not simply end with the Naraka Reaper handing a defeat to the Blade Marquis of the Peng Family. It would inevitably be viewed in a much broader light: the Flash Art Lineage had inflicted an indelible disgrace upon the martial arts of the Peng Clan.
However, Ma Jin's expression hardened at the elder's retort. He slowly parted his lips.
—An incident where mere local Murim aristocrats plotted against the state's Divine Sword.
He was referring to the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, Yong Hee-myung, via telepathy. A low groan escaped the Peng Clan elder's wrinkled lips.
"Mmh...!"
—I do not lay all the blame on you bastards. It was initiated by the Thirteen Heavens Yeoryeong Lord in the first place, and it only happened because our fortress's prestige had fallen so low.
"That matter... was indeed our clan's mistake. However..."
—And that is why we have reestablished our prestige. You could call it making an example of you. It needs to be widely known. Since the Grandmaster who will soon become the greatest under heaven resides in our fortress, the Jianghu Murim must engrave today's tournament into their minds and hold their breath.
Ma Jin leisurely continued amidst the clamor of the crowd.
—Killing a brat who was drunk on her own petty skills would have been effortless. Instead of showing gratitude and thinking of repaying this grace... Well, regardless, the remaining grudges will be handled by our fortress's Purple Rank. So bathe, purify yourselves, and wait in your quarters.
Having finished his telepathic message, he clicked his tongue at the elder, but no one dared to criticize Ma Jin's behavior.
He was the Head of the Desolate Ma Clan.
"...Let us go."
With practiced movements, the Peng Clan elder tapped the left side of Peng Ya's abdomen and the back of her neck, sealing her acupoints to prevent Ma Jin's residual Fa Jin from running wild inside her.
Yet, he could not hide his shock at the nature of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art's internal energy that brushed against his fingertips.
‘How can the internal energy of the Desolate Fortress's black-robed battle demon be this pure? This shouldn't be possible unless he were a Shaolin monk who refines his mind and body through alms-seeking and the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic...!’
He instinctively glanced down at Ma Jin's robustly trained legs. Then, he looked back and forth between the Desolate Fortress members who had participated in the duel and the new Purple Rank on the dais. Every single one of them was a remarkably imposing man.
"It surely cannot be the Boy's Art."
"What did you say?"
The elder did not reply to Ma Jin's retort and instead tended to his clan members. Soothing the solemn saber-wielders of his clan with a few words, it did not take long for him to finish sealing Peng Ya's acupoints, lift her up, and descend from the stage.
Only Ma Jin remained standing upon it.
"..."
The Head of the Desolate Ma Clan swept his gaze over the crowd surrounding the stage.
Most averted their eyes. Only a few could meet his piercing gaze.
The swordsmen of the Diancang Sect mingled in the crowd. There were the Plum Blossom Swordmasters of the Mount Hua Sect, led by a young Taoist who clenched his fists as if he himself had won, and the practitioners of the Six Kings Martial Lineage, who exuded an equally formidable aura while carrying all sorts of exotic weapons...
Ma Jin felt the gazes stemming from their profound eye techniques. It was different from when he roamed the Jianghu as the Commander of the Demonlight Wing. The eyes fixed on him at this moment were staring at Ma Jin, yet looking at something else entirely.
The Jeong Family Dynamic Art.
And perhaps other martial arts that the new Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress might have created.
‘Look all you want.’
Turning on his heel, Ma Jin bowed silently to his nephew. His posture was entirely different from the one he had shown to the Peng Clan elder.
It carried both respect for the Purple Rank and the satisfaction of an uncle who had demonstrated proper conduct. He had punished the opponent without shedding blood, using his nephew's martial art.
The former Commander of the Demonlight Wing felt a rare swell of satisfaction. It was because the image of his smirking sister perfectly overlapped with his nephew's face.
*
Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself, When will he ever learn manners and protocol? So utterly lacking in grace.
Even though he had no intention of eavesdropping, he had heard all of Ma Jin's words. The sender of the telepathy had intentionally let the sound leak.
What was he trying to show? Yeon-shin shook his head inwardly. It was a stroke of immense luck that Ma Se-in existed. If not for Gentleman Ma, who stood a step behind him, Yeon-shin's innate sense of responsibility might have driven him to change his surname.
—Allow me to offer a word of advice on my way out. Do not do that next time.
Just then, Perfected Ancient Sword's telepathic voice drifted into his ears. Jeong Yeon-shin showed a slight hint of bewilderment. Yet, he felt relieved that the topic had shifted away from his embarrassing uncle.
—Pardon?
—I am speaking of the matter regarding the Peng Clan Head. It only passed without issue because of your lineage and status. Otherwise, some might have raised objections during the duel.
—What kind of objections do you mean?
—It is... hard to call it common for someone to notarize a duel they themselves participated in. Even the lords of the Thirteen Heavens would not do such a thing.
It was advice from the Old Immortal of Wudang. Jeong Yeon-shin nodded in agreement. He could hardly picture the lords of the Thirteen Heavens talking about notarization. They would simply take their enemy's head and be done with it. Was that not why they were called heterodox sects—because they neglected righteousness, unlike the new Purple Rank?
He understood completely.
—I understand what you mean. Thank you for the advice.
—I am grateful that you accept this old Taoist's meddlesome words so readily. You must have expended a great deal of mental energy as well, so you should head inside. It was an eye-opening duel.
—I wish you a peaceful night as well, Perfected Ancient Sword.
After giving Yeon-shin a nod, Perfected Ancient Sword's figure vanished into thin air. Only a thread-like gust of wind remained in his place, just like during the banquet of the Divine Sword Corps Unit Commanders.
It was a body protection scripture that brought to mind legends of Taoist immortals' earth-shrinking art. It was Wudang's Cloud-Ladder Step.
There was a sense of haste in his departure, no different from the various martial heroes who had just witnessed the capabilities of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art.
‘If he were to use the Cloud-Ladder Step during a duel, would I be able to keep up with my Ten-Mile Light Grace?’
It was just as Jeong Yeon-shin was inwardly measuring that realm.
Rustle.
A soft sleeve brushed past his shoulder. A presence emerged, feeling as though a floral fragrance had suddenly and naturally bloomed from thin air.
It was a body protection scripture hard to explain as anything other than the steps of the Dark Fragrance Drift, executed by the Mount Hua Sect Leader.
"When I emerged from seclusion and heard the rumors about you..." Lady Yul-ha placed a hand on Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, just as always. "I had only intended to show Mount Hua to you, the benefactor of our sect."
"Sect Leader."
Jeong Yeon-shin bowed his head slightly, focusing his attention on the shoulder where Lady Yul-ha's hand rested. The structure of his muscles—leading from the trapezius to the acromion and the deltoid—as well as his Tiantu Point, were entirely within the grasp of the Saint Flower Sword God. How much could she read?
‘Would it be strange if I reached out my hand as well?’
Taking an interest in the body of Mount Hua's First Sword, a woman renowned for her supreme talent in swordsmanship, Yeon-shin spoke calmly. "I was too preoccupied to greet you properly."
"Why call me Sect Leader in private? 'Yul-ha' is enough. Are we not companions who have fought back-to-back?"
Her voice was laced with laughter. It was incredibly warm. The corners of Jeong Yeon-shin's mouth curled up slightly.
As if to prove their closeness, the peerless swordsman of the Mount Hua Sect leaned her head back slightly to get a better look at him. The Sword God, who represented the land of Shaanxi alongside the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect, was as free-spirited as any absolute master.
"How wonderful. It is good to see. Just smiling like that is enough; anyone sharing a table with you wouldn't need any side dishes."
"Pardon?"
"Because they could savor the flavor even if they only ate plain rice. I wonder if you could somehow cure the famine of this land."
When the smile vanished from Jeong Yeon-shin's lips, Lady Yul-ha burst into hearty laughter. She paid no heed to her junior's stiff expression. The peerless masters representing the Desolate Fortress and the Mount Hua Sect were openly displaying their close friendship.
Those leaving the spectator seats stared wide-eyed at the sight, but the two conversed without paying them any mind.
Ma Jin, who had been standing on the stage, gave Yeon-shin a look and vanished. A telepathic message saying he would wait at the Desolate Fortress quarters lingered in Yeon-shin's ears.
"Shall we walk for a bit?"
"Yes."
Jeong Yeon-shin began to walk away from the dais alongside Lady Yul-ha.
It was hard to call it a simple, comfortable stroll. Both of them had arrived at the Green Jade Sword Manor as representatives of their respective sects. Their internal energy breathing, their strides, and even the micro-movements of their muscles all served as information about their respective martial lineages.
If it were a one-on-one duel, it might be different. But in a position where he had to lead the warriors of the main fortress to dominate the Mount Hua Agreement, he had to be extremely cautious in his conduct.
‘Teaching was as easy as flipping one's palm, but...’
Shouldering the heavy responsibilities of the Desolate Fortress was different. The burden was immense.
"In any case, seeing today's events, I realized you aren't the only one we need to worry about. If we don't stay on guard against your entire lineage, we might end up humiliated just like the Peng Clan."
"Come to think of it... I heard the Hwasan Sword Excellence is my uncle's rival."
"Not just him. Our sect's Plum Blossom Swordmasters and the Demonlight Wing have always been compared to one another. From what I saw today, it seems the wishes of many gossips will be fulfilled in this tournament. I never expected the Naraka Reaper to return."
"He is more unyielding than anyone."
"That, too, is largely thanks to you. Do you drink? Now that you've grown this much, I imagine you can drink like a fish."
"...I do not drink."
"I must have brought up a thoughtless topic. It is only natural for a master of internal Qi Gong. I wish Yu-hyeon would learn a thing or two from you..."
Jeong Yeon-shin let the obvious remark slide in silence. Instead, he focused on the exhalations carried in Lady Yul-ha's voice.
The endlessly long and slender breath of the Purple Mist Divine Art. Having defeated the Peng Clan, the immediate next opponents were not the issue. Soon, they would face the thousand-year-old martial arts of the Nine Sects.
Could they win?
His uncle, who had just left the stage, would not be enough. It was not a matter of martial prowess, but of accumulated Qi.
It was said that the Qi-powered prosthetic made by the Ironfolk of the City of Master Craftsmen consumed a massive amount of True Qi in exchange for moving like a real limb. If his True Qi were repeatedly depleted over a short period, he would inevitably fall far from his peak condition.
There were plenty of White and Blue Ranks. They needed one more Black Rank.
As he walked with Lady Yul-ha, Jeong Yeon-shin's gaze shifted toward a corner of the spectator seats.
There sat the White Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin, in absolute silence. He looked much like Jeong Yeon-shin himself once had—huddled in a corner by the Dano Festival swing set, pushed aside by the indifferent glares of his older brothers.
*
The Mount Hua Agreement continued in grand fashion. It was a festival so magnificent that it was hard to find its equal anywhere under heaven.
Vast interests. Honor that was hard to find anywhere else. And martial arts of peerless lineages that would broaden one's horizons just by witnessing them.
The Green Jade Sword Manor of Henan Province was, in itself, a microcosm of the entire Jianghu. Countless martial heroes could not help but gather there continuously. Even those who had missed the opening ceremony made their way there.
Among them were the experts of the Namgung Clan, including the Elder Council Head.
The clan, which had once vied for the leadership of the Eight Great Families before sealing its gates, had opened its doors once more.
"Is Hwa-shin truly there?"
"The information is certain."
"Double-check that the Imperial Sword Manual is safe inside the wooden box. No matter how many times you check, it is never enough. There are far too many phantoms with body protection scriptures in this Jianghu."
"Yes, sir!"
"To think he rose to the ranks of a supreme expert without even learning the sword forms... That child is a direct descendant who surpassed Se-jin."
The muttering of the stout old swordsman quietly blended into the dust rising from the roads of Dengfeng County.