Chapter 438: Conclusion (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 438: Conclusion (3)
The Green Jade Sword Manor was bustling with activity. It was hardly a suitable place for a peerless master with hyper-sensitive senses to find peace and rest.
Following his victory over the Sword Empress and his subsequent loss of consciousness, Jeong Yeon-shin was moved to Xinye County.
There was absolutely no risk of Qi deviation during the transit. The Brightfolk experts of the Demonlight Wing, including Cheong-myeong, utilized their supreme Grass-Gliding techniques to ensure a perfectly smooth journey.
It was just like when they had punished the heterodox sects of Shaanxi, carrying the sleeping Jeong Yeon-shin in a palanquin and treating him like a returning victorious general. The only difference this time was that the palanquin had been replaced by a stretcher.
A peerless master, invisible to the eyes of the Desolate Fortress warriors, guarded his side.
The Demonlight First Team vouched for the identity of this peerless master. His body was shrouded in strangely distorted air, making it difficult to discern his features or even his clothing.
They testified that this figure had been present when Jeong Yeon-shin slew the Moyong Clan Head.
He was a Hidden Sword of the main fortress, an existence whose identity was treated as top secret.
The mysterious figure even displayed the Desolate Fortress Lord's token, engraved with the pattern of the World Tree. There was no longer any room for doubt.
And so, Jeong Yeon-shin did not wake.
The Jeong Family Dynamic Art was a martial art that operated on its own, even while he slept.
If the sole focus was on managing his Qi deviation and restoring his acupoints, it was only right to dedicate even the energy he would have consumed while conscious to the dynamic art.
Furthermore, the mysterious figure was an orthodox successor of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art who could assist in his Qi healing.
"His acupoints are severely weakened. I trust there is no fool here who would rashly feed him spirit medicine."
"Know that if anyone shows such stupidity, I will crush their skull on the spot."
Many guessed the mysterious figure's identity, picturing an old man clad in a rose-colored robe within that distorted space.
The Desolate Fortress warriors below the Purple Rank focused entirely on escorting them, even after arriving at their destination.
The former site of the Jeong Family Manor.
It was a place that had originally been used as the headquarters of a certain merchant group. This was because Jeong Yeon-shin's second brother, Jeong Jung-san, had sold the land in the past to hire mercenaries to protect his niece, Jeong Hye, when she was abducted by Shaanxi's Number One Demon of Lingering Spirit.
Now, however, things were different.
A highly respected merchant group leader had handed over all the pavilions and land to Jeong Yeon-shin.
They had even restored the well-manicured flower garden and the swing in the front yard used during the Dano Festival. It was said to be the result of asking the villagers of Xinye County what the Jeong Family Manor had looked like before it fell into ruin.
By now, the scenery was not much different from when the Jeong Family Dynamic Art was first created. Until Jeong Yeon-shin established his own household, a few people were to reside there as the Henan Branch of the Desolate Fortress.
It was the birthplace of the young Grandmaster.
The Desolate Fortress warriors, including the Demonlight Wing, frequently strolled through the manor. Some, including Heonwon Chang, even threw salt over the quarters of the deceased Jeong Pan-ak.
The Brightfolk experts marveled at the Earth Qi, noting the exceptionally dense energy rising from the ground. They remarked that it hardly seemed like a manor that had once been burned down by the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect.
Meanwhile,
"They say Wudang defeated the Six Kings Sect. Apparently, the Ten-Stage Brocade of the long staff was absolutely spectacular. It's a shame I missed it. They even say Perfected Ancient Sword knocked the Six Kings Sect Leader unconscious without even drawing his sword. The Perfected One's Songmun Ancient Sword would only truly shine if he met our Commander, though."
A small figure chattered, swinging back and forth on the swing.
It was Shin So-bin of the Demonlight Wing.
On one side of her wavy, short-cropped hair, her left arm—which had been severely broken during her duel with the Small Sword Empress—was miraculously healed and back in place. The way she firmly gripped the ropes of the swing with both hands proved her complete recovery.
This was thanks to her learning a simplified version of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art.
It was said that Jeong Yeon-shin had ordered Gentleman Ma to pass down the dynamic art to her right after she concluded her duel with a severe injury.
"Of course, the premise is non-transmission to the unworthy. It's not a martial art donated to the Gold-Piercing Martial Library. At any rate, you aren't even a Jeong... you are incredibly lucky."
"And you're a Ma."
She had learned it quickly. Her talent was as outstanding as Ma Se-in's, and she possessed a deep understanding of Jeong Yeon-shin. She had easily grasped the diary written by the Grandmaster during his childhood.
The only problem was that her eyes grew damp on this already humid summer day. She, too, threw salt over the quarters of the Jeong Family Head. She scattered quite a lot of it.
"No matter how Wudang won, this manor is definitely a prime location. It has a mountain at its back, and a village and a stream opening up in front."
"It's perfect for recuperation."
The Desolate Fortress seniors chatted idly around the swing.
Though they spoke of recuperation, their actual deployment resembled a highly strict security net.
Even their seemingly leisurely strolls were structured to guard against any potential enemy intrusion. After all, the Purple Rank represented the Desolate Fortress, even if one was not the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
It was then.
"Huh?"
Shin So-bin narrowed her eyes without lifting her hips from the swing. She was in the middle of evenly tuning the meridians of both arms, tightening her grip on the ropes.
"They're here again."
Over a dozen figures could be seen faintly beyond the main gate.
Every single one of them wore blue martial robes and carried antique precious swords. Their bearing exuded the discipline and elegance characteristic of a prestigious clan.
Xinye County was a town in Henan Province, well within Shaolin's sphere of influence.
Unless they were determined to cause trouble, heterodox sects could never walk the streets in such luxurious attire.
The Namgung Clan.
Only they could do so, as the orthodox local aristocrats representing the vast Southern Zhili.
Shin So-bin made a fed-up face. Their visits had not stopped at just once or twice.
The Head of the Namgung Clan Elder Council, who was now the only person in the world who knew the Imperial Sword Form, bowed deeply alongside the swordsmen of the Changgung Sword Unit, the clan's martial unit. They bowed to the temporary Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing, who was of concubine birth.
She and the other Desolate Fortress warriors had been forced to unintentionally overhear countless words of persuasion.
"Return to the clan and inherit the Imperial Sword Form. You do not have to dirty your hands. Following your lineage, you will eventually become the king of Southern Zhili."
"The direct line has perished, and Southern Zhili almost collapsed. The Namgung family, including myself, are barely holding together the orthodox martial world of your homeland."
"It is the land your brother, the Azure Qilin of the martial world, wished to protect. If you stubbornly refuse to come, it will turn into a living hell. The Heavenly Sword... please, draw the Heavenly Sword of our main family."
Namgung Hwa-shin did not follow them. However, born with a polite nature, he could not bring himself to mistreat the elder of his bloodline either.
He had simply slammed the Heavenly Sword, sheath and all, into the middle of the Jeong Family Manor's front yard. He told them to take it.
That was the response of the White Qilin, whose righteousness was said to be second to none, not even to the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress.
"Hasn't it been stuck there for three days already? How is there not a single speck of dirt on the sword?"
"The people from the Grand Steward's office call the White Qilin the 'flawless Black Rank.' They say he pathologically cleans and polishes everything his hands touch."
"They say there isn't a single speck of dust in his room. His fastidiousness is extreme."
Dozens of Desolate Fortress warriors felt relieved by Namgung Hwa-shin's conduct. The symbolic weight of a Desolate Fortress Black Rank expert did not need to be explained in words.
It was one thing to die on a mission, but if a Black Rank expert were to leave the main fortress of his own accord, it would cause an immense uproar.
The Desolate Fortress's face, honor, and the morale of the main fortress's warriors would all be at stake.
Meanwhile, the Lazy Flame Dragon sat casually on the ground of the yard, staring up at Namgung Hwa-shin.
The temporary Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing paid no heed to the approach of his blood relatives, slowly lowering his drawn Desolate Fortress Sword. His slightly lowered eyes proved he was engaged in mental training.
"That sword technique... what does it feel like?"
The Lazy Flame Dragon asked, chewing on his poppy. It did not feel like he was rudely interrupting the other's training.
For geniuses like him and Namgung Hwa-shin were capable of entering a state of selflessness at will. The quality of their Upper Dantian was on a completely different level compared to ordinary people.
"...It is fast, and fast again. I realize that to withstand the pressure of the shockwaves emitted by this sword technique, one must never stop training their physical body, even as they grow old."
"What a troublesome martial art."
For a moment, Namgung Hwa-shin's eyebrows twitched slightly.
The Lazy Flame Dragon subtly shifted his gaze, making it clear that his informal speech just now had been a monologue.
This was to avoid being lectured by his friend's younger brother, who had suddenly become his superior. He cleared his throat with a feigned air.
"For those called masters, life and martial arts are one and the same. If one wishes to enjoy life reasonably, there must be some leisure in their martial arts as well. Yet, it seems no one in the Demonlight Wing even knows what our Commander likes..."
It was then.
The place from which the Desolate Fortress warriors were gradually turning their eyes.
"The Mount Hua Agreement is over! Form ranks immediately! Over thirty orthodox sects have risen! It is a rebellion!"
An elderly shout erupted from the front of the Namgung Clan swordsmen. A deep internal energy generated a heavy vibration. It was the voice of the Head of the Namgung Clan Elder Council.
An event symbolizing the chaotic times occurred thus suddenly.
Fwiiiiiiip—!
The sharp sound of a whistling arrow echoed from the mountain behind the manor. It was the signal of the Moon-Shooting Bow Ghost, Wi Ye-ryeong.
It meant enemies had arrived nearby. If she had gone so far as to shoot a whistling arrow, it meant the situation was at a level where she and the other Demonlight Wing experts could not easily block their approach in a short time.
Whether it was due to sheer numbers or superior martial prowess.
The Desolate Fortress warriors instantly drew their weapons. The clashing sounds of blades rang out in succession. Everyone rose to their feet.
"What is this? This is Xinye County, not Dengfeng County."
"That's exactly why they're here! What would they gain by attacking the place where the leaders of the Nine Sects are staying? They strike the surrounding areas to scatter them."
"Just who are they?"
"Probably bastards who couldn't bear to watch one side take all the interests tied to the Mount Hua Agreement. There might be something like Lingering Spirit behind them."
Shin So-bin, springing off the swing, landed lightly on the ground and spoke. She glanced back at Namgung Hwa-shin.
"Give us the order. How shall we move?"
At that moment,
Vroooooom—!
From the summit of the far-off mountain behind them, a certain sphere was launched.
An object whose identity could be recognized at once by anyone with deep eye techniques and broad knowledge. It was a Thunderbolt Bomb thrown with immense internal energy.
The culprit had obtained firearms with astonishing resourcefulness, completely disregarding the imperial court. They were truly worthy of being called rebels.
"……!"
The target was the quarters where Jeong Yeon-shin's mother had stayed long ago.
The very place where the sleeping Jeong Yeon-shin was currently recuperating. The Thunderbolt Bomb fell at a terrifying speed, as if fired from an artillery piece.
It was even before Cheong-myeong and Baek Mi-ryeo could throw their swords.
The moment the Demonlight Wing warriors widened their eyes, the pitch-black sphere suddenly vanished in midair without a trace. As if swept away by an irresistible force.
However, that did not stop the subsequent bombardment.
Fwoooooosh—! Bang! Kaboom!
Roofs shattered, and clouds of dirt exploded. The shouts of the warriors were drowned out by the deafening blasts.
While the earth shook violently, the sky began to be dyed with pitch-black smoke.
"Those bastards... they're from the Six Kings Sect!"
"Hwa-shin! Let's retreat! There is no way to fight back here!"
The Head of the Namgung Clan Elder Council, who had already crossed the main gate of the Jeong Family Manor, shouted.
This was right after Namgung Hwa-shin had lost his grip on his Desolate Fortress Sword while recklessly striking upward at a Thunderbolt Bomb falling toward two white-ranked warriors. It happened because he was not yet fully accustomed to the sword moves.
Thud!
The blade stabbed into the ground. It was right next to the precious sword embedded with a clean, brilliant red jade. The Desolate Fortress Sword and the Heavenly Sword. For a moment, the Elder Council Head's eyes trembled.
In the midst of the urgency, the old swordsman had an intuitive realization. The moment that would decide the fate of the Namgung Clan had arrived.
At that moment, Namgung Hwa-shin recalled the single word Jeong Yeon-shin had uttered when handing over the Heavenly Sword.
— Permitted.
Permission for anything. A command imbued with immense freedom. It brought to mind the Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin, who was said to have spoken of freedom when facing death.
Grip.
Namgung Hwa-shin gripped the dirt-covered Desolate Fortress Sword.
At the same time, a hazy sword wind swept in all directions, freezing over a dozen of the Thunderbolt Bombs falling like hail in midair.
Qilin's Judgment.
"How...!"
Just as the Elder Council Head's eyes widened in shock...
...as if they had calculated the strength of the Desolate Fortress warriors before the raid, those who had been throwing Thunderbolt Bombs from the mountain behind the Jeong Family Manor each dragged out a cannon.
In their other hands, they held large, round iron balls instead of Thunderbolt Bombs.
They intended to unleash an artillery bombardment.
They knew the Desolate Fortress warriors could not abandon their new Purple Rank.
From the Jeong Family Manor's side, four people stepped forward. Namgung Hwa-shin, the Lazy Flame Dragon, Cheong-myeong, and Baek Mi-ryeo. Each of them unleashed sword pressure, heat, sword wind, and demonic energy to erect a wall.
Heonwon Chang blocked the entrance to Jeong Yeon-shin's quarters, his eyes distorted with killing intent. At the same time, the Brightfolk experts of the Demonlight Wing began to scale the mountain behind them with blurred movements.
Not a single one of them showed any sign of dismay, exuding only fierce spirit.
None of the Desolate Fortress warriors were strangers to sudden raids. Thus, neither side backed down.
It was the chaotic martial world.
"Fire."
As a middle-aged man with a spear slung diagonally across his back—the Second Sect Leader of the Six Kings Sect—muttered...
Vroooom—!
A translucent lotus flower bloomed in the front yard of the ruined Jeong Family Manor.
It was massive, large enough to spit out an old monk fluttering his empty orange sleeves in place of a pistil.
It was the Nine Grades of the Lotus Pedestal, a secret technique of Shaolin.
It happened in an instant. The Divine Monk, Abbot Beomheo, suddenly manifested.
Vroooooom—!
Golden radiance flowed from both shoulders of the Shaolin Abbot, taking the shape of arms. The pinnacle of martial arts. A truly transcendental sight manifested at the Jeong Family Manor.
His graying waist twisted slightly for a brief moment. Before anyone knew it, the Divine Monk Abbot Beomheo's golden fist struck diagonally toward the sky with a heavy thud, generating a shockwave like the tolling of a temple bell.
At the same time, the air rippled widely.
The Divine Art Secret Technique: Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
The repercussion occurred on the mountain behind them, where the fist had pointed. The ridge of the mountaintop, where the artillery batteries had been lined up, was suddenly flipped upside down in its entirety.
It was as if an invisible hand of Buddha had shaved off and erased the mountain ridge. Dust billowed vastly along the long ridge.
Only after several breaths had passed did an explosive roar cascade down the sloped mountain path.
Ruuuuuumble—!
It was total annihilation.
The enemies who had mobilized firearms vanished with a single punch.
The hand of Expelling Demons and Eradicating Evil was extremely resolute. Within the shockwave of the supreme fist strike, not only the corpses but even the iron fragments of the cannons were annihilated without a trace.
A miraculous silence fell. For a while, no one could move.
"……."
While the crowd was left speechless, another person had already stepped into the front yard. Within the strangely warped space, Ma Yeon-jeok, his lips slightly curled upward, brushed past Abbot Beomheo.
"I see the Emperor was not mistaken. I suppose the gate of Henan can be left to you."
"Is that not the duty of the Nine Sects?"
"I say this because there are not many who are faithful to their duties."
"I cannot agree."
"In particular, Qingcheng would be better off closing its gates. Mount Hua, at least, was worth looking forward to. That girl is better than her predecessor."
"It is not a matter of their caliber. How could the world entering chaotic times be the fault of any single person?"
"You bald monk certainly have a silver tongue."
"How is Benefactor Jeong's body?"
"His Qi healing has just finished. Now, all that remains is for him to crush you all as a proper Purple Rank of the main fortress."
"...I hear the Diancang Sect Leader has awakened. Would you like to meet him?"
"Why bother speaking to an old man? His sword was shattered by my grandson, was it not? I lack the confidence to hide my pity for you lot, who will never know the joy of being a grandfather until the day you die."
"……."
"Is your business finished?"
"I was forced to strike just now, but your daughter's grave is safe."
"I know."
That was all.
In the next instant, the two dispersed like smoke from where they stood. And they did not reappear.
They were peerless masters, each with their own duties in the world. The longer they lingered in one place, the deeper the world would groan. Thus, they were elusive.
Whoosh—
A wooden box, tied with what appeared to be a letter, dropped with a thud toward Heonwon Chang.
He quickly snatched it. On the cover of the letter, the words "To Yeon-shin" were written in thick brushstrokes.
"My word..." Heonwon Chang spoke, trying to sound nonchalant.
"It is neither a flowing cursive nor a proper print... I don't think I have ever seen such terrible chicken scratch in all my years," Heonwon Chang muttered, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized the thick, erratic brushstrokes adorning the wooden box. He turned the letter over in his hands, marveling at the sheer lack of penmanship from someone of such unimaginable martial prowess.
"Stop spouting nonsense and let's move," Baek Mi-ryeo cut in, her voice slicing through the lingering tension like a blade of ice. "Leaving this place is our first priority. We can marvel at terrible handwriting once we are safely on the road."
With a cold, dismissive rustle of her robes, Baek Mi-ryeo brushed past the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress. Her eyes were already fixed on the path ahead, her demeanor entirely focused on the immediate aftermath of the chaotic events that had just transpired.
They did exactly what needed to be done, operating with a ruthless, practiced efficiency.
The composure of the mid-tier experts belonging to the Desolate Fortress ran incredibly deep. Reading the heavy atmosphere of the room and understanding the unspoken commands of their superiors, they moved in perfect unison. Silently, they entered the battered remnants of the pavilion, their footsteps light and deliberate. With the utmost care, they hoisted Jeong Yeon-shin's limp body up from the ground and gently laid him inside a waiting palanquin.
It was a profound testament to his current state and the absolute trust he held in his subordinates. A peerless master of his caliber, a man who would normally awaken and react with lethal precision to even the faintest wisp of enemy killing intent, showed no reaction whatsoever to the touch of his comrades. He remained entirely still, allowing them to secure him for the long journey ahead.
As the seasoned experts of the Demonlight Wing hoisted the heavy wooden poles of the palanquin onto their shoulders, they crossed the ruined threshold of the Jeong Family Manor. Following closely behind the brisk pace set by Baek Mi-ryeo, the group began their departure.
It was then that Cheong-myeong tossed out a casual, yet incredibly weighty piece of information.
"A missive just arrived from the Grand Steward," Cheong-myeong announced, his voice carrying easily over the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps. "They are already preparing an official promotion ceremony at the main fortress. It is perfect timing, all things considered. The Henan Branch of the main fortress will be dispatched to look after this estate in our absence."
"An official promotion ceremony, you say...?" Heonwon Chang echoed, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the magnitude of the words.
"Indeed," Cheong-myeong continued, his tone turning strict and uncompromising. "We will restructure all of our units around the new Purple Rank. The Commander of the Demonlight Wing might even change in the wake of this. Let this serve as a warning to the rest of you: some of the slower ones among our ranks will find it exceptionally hard to assist the Commander moving forward. I suggest you all brace yourselves and train harder."
"A Purple Rank promotion ceremony! Surely, the character 'Hwang' will be engraved on his shoulder too, right?"
Heonwon Chang’s voice carried a strange, irrepressible sense of anticipation. Completely ignoring Cheong-myeong's stern warning about falling behind, the Divine Hero merely trudged after the group, his mind filled with grand visions of the upcoming martial honors.
Above them, the vibrant hues of the sunset were rapidly falling in the exact direction they were heading, painting the sky in deep shades of crimson and bruised purple.
It was a poignant, fleeting moment in time, arriving at a point when Jeong Yeon-shin had only about two years of life remaining to his name.
As they marched onward, the shadows of the Desolate Fortress party stretched long and dark across the earth, silently biting into the fading warmth of the end of summer.
