Chapter 447: The Sunset Flag (9)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 447: The Sunset Flag (9)
The outer wall of the Desolate Fortress.
White and blue garments gleamed under the sunlight, their lustrous texture revealing they were woven from Heavenly Silkworm thread and fine silk.
These were the martial uniforms of the guards stationed at regular intervals along the ramparts. Each was neatly embroidered with the character Hwang (荒)—meaning "desolate."
"Report."
"All clear."
These were the experts standing guard on the outer wall.
White-ranked warriors stood in a sparse line, spaced about ten jang apart. Beside each of them, a white Desolate Fortress standard bearing the character Hwang (荒) was planted firmly into the battlements.
Occasionally, a blue-robed warrior patrolled the ramparts, receiving reports and issuing orders as the patrol leader.
It was a necessary precaution, even though the city surrounding the outer wall was already enclosed by the grand fortress of Xiangyang. They were guarding against potential infiltration by martial arts experts.
Ever since an assassin from Lingering Spirit had been captured in the city marketplace some time ago, security along the outer wall had tightened considerably.
“How desolate,” muttered a Brightfolk expert with a spear slung across his back.
As was typical for the Desolate Fortress warriors residing in the main fortress, the hems of his neatly tailored blue trousers fluttered in the wind.
This was the Spirit-Nourishing Spear, Wi Gon.
He was the younger brother of Wi Ye-ryeong, the Moon-Shooting Bow Ghost of the Demonlight Wing. Unlike his older sister, however, he was a blue-ranked member of the Law Enforcement Unit, tasked with executing the laws within the Desolate Fortress.
It was a position that rarely required him to mingle with experts from other martial units.
But things were different now.
The main fortress's forces were so depleted that even Law Enforcement Unit warriors had been deployed to guard the outer wall. A significant portion of the Demonlight Wing and the Flash Art lineage, who had only recently returned, had long since been dispatched on new missions.
The world was calling for them.
Struck hard by famine, martial artists across various regions had degraded into bandits, highwaymen, or violent mountain gods. Some even considered the Green Forest—led by their chief, the Great White Axe King Je Gang-cheon—or certain Demonfolk experts who had crossed over from the north, as the new seats of the Thirteen Heavens.
“Desolate? Do you mean the main fortress?” a white-ranked warrior guarding nearby asked casually.
This was a place occupied solely by experts of internal Qi gong. Even when speaking casually from a distance, their voices carried with perfect clarity. For Brightfolk experts, if they channeled true qi into the Wangu points behind their ears, they could even hear the whistling of swords from the central training ground.
Wi Gon shook his head.
“That goes without saying. I was just thinking about the upcoming promotion ceremony for the new purple rank. Normally, it should be grand enough for the festive music to reach the marketplaces of Xiangyang. After all, a boy who knocked on the gates of the main fortress with nothing but a single sword has reached the pinnacle of the white, blue, black, and purple ranks in less than three years.”
“Well, that's...”
The white-ranked warrior aimlessly tapped the hilt of the sword at his waist. He had nothing to say in response.
Everyone knew the current situation didn't allow for a grand ceremony like a purple-rank promotion.
Just then, on the official road beyond the wall, a child waved his hand.
“Mr. Warrior!”
He looked to be about eight years old, with a scruffy appearance.
Wi Gon crossed his arms, adopting a deliberately haughty air, and gave a slight nod.
Instantly, the boy's face lit up. The white-ranked warrior chatting idly with Wi Gon wore an exasperated expression.
“Is that how you return a greeting?”
“The image of a fortress warrior that a child wants to see is always more or less the same. Look at that. He's thrilled, even as his father drags him away.”
Wi Gon gestured with his chin.
The child was indeed being dragged away by the scruff of his neck by a man who appeared to be his father. The boy's feet dragged along the ground, carving two small furrows in the dirt.
The boy's father was clearly born and raised in Xiangyang, showing no fear of Wi Gon or the white-ranked warrior. He merely bowed repeatedly, as if he had committed a great discourtesy, while backing away.
Soon, they receded into the distance.
Within that familiarity lay deep respect.
This was daily life for the warriors of the Desolate Fortress. Wi Gon and the others were treated with the utmost dignity, respected no less than high-ranking officials and nobles.
They were the most noble mayflies under heaven.
“They were the ones who held up the purple lanterns for Lord Jeong, weren't they?”
“They were.”
“In a way, they gave him a promotion ceremony far grander than anything we could have done. I suppose we should be grateful...”
“Every warrior in the main fortress must feel the same. Who wouldn't want to give him a proper ceremony? Lord Jeong will understand.”
The moment the white-ranked warrior finished speaking, he flinched.
On the other side of the Desolate Fortress standard he was guarding, a man was strolling leisurely along the ramparts. Yet, not a single trace of his presence could be felt.
This remained true even as his long, confident strides caused the hem of his blue robe—clearly woven from Heavenly Silkworm thread—to flutter wildly in the wind.
It was the effect of his Body Protection Scripture—a realm of cultivation that refused to be captured by the senses of ordinary martial artists.
Embroidered on both of his shoulders and the exact center of his abdomen was a dragon with four claws.
The four-clawed dragon insignia.
The reigning Emperor, possessing imperial authority rivaling any in history, wore a dragon robe adorned with the five-clawed dragon insignia. The highest attire Emperor Geonreung permitted to the feudatory kings under his command was the four-clawed dragon robe.
“Jeong Yeon-shin's promotion ceremony is not for you to worry about,” the man said in a clear, resonant voice.
He possessed long earlobes, as if he had inherited the blood of Liu Bei of Shu Han.
“Has he not already obtained the permission of both the Emperor and the Lord of the Desolate Fortress? A promotion ceremony is nothing but empty formality. It matters little whether it is held or not.”
He had a sharp jawline and a high nose bridge that perfectly caught the sunlight. A faint, seemingly permanent smile lingered on his face.
At a glance, he gave the impression of an idle dandy who might spend his days enjoying the arts in some corner of Beijing. His demeanor, casually fluttering the blue sleeves of his four-clawed dragon robe, only reinforced this image.
Yet, his manner of travel was unusual.
He was accompanied by not a single attendant—an uncharacteristic sight for the most famous feudatory king in the martial world. He strolled the ramparts entirely alone, scanning his surroundings.
Step.
Passing the frozen white-ranked warrior, the King of Fathomless Light approached Wi Gon and smiled faintly.
“It is pleasing to see such loyalty to your superior. I only wish the retainers of the Fathomless Light Palace were more like you.”
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
Wi Gon clasped his hands in greeting.
He did not kneel. While on guard duty, all protocols could be simplified. It depended entirely on the sincerity of the one showing respect.
It wasn't that the Spirit-Nourishing Spear, Wi Gon, was exceptionally haughty. Most blue-ranked members of the Desolate Fortress were like this. They maintained this attitude even when facing a peerless expert of the Ju imperial family like the King of Fathomless Light.
These were warriors who never knew when or where they might meet their deaths, yet possessed martial arts on par with the elite experts of the great sects.
Naturally, few would go out of their way to observe strict etiquette.
The King of Fathomless Light didn't mind.
Even when Jeong Yeon-shin was in the main fortress, the King had never blindly forced a meeting.
“It is fine weather for a drink. They say heroes drink by the bucket, but a man who wears the purple robe at such a young age might not care for the bottle.”
“...According to my superior, he becomes quite boisterous when drinking...”
“Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit Un So-yu? If she says so, it must be true. I find myself looking forward to it.”
The King of Fathomless Light rubbed his hands together with a somewhat playful air.
He was referring to the sight of the new purple-ranked expert, riding a single sword, suddenly shooting out from the Lord's quarters.
Perhaps worried that the propulsion shockwave of his Sword Flight would damage the fortress, he hadn't accelerated too quickly at the start. Naturally, many had witnessed Jeong Yeon-shin's sudden departure.
Alarm bells had rung not only in the outer city but also in the inner city, where the noble families affiliated with the main fortress resided. The warriors stationed in the main fortress had to scramble into combat readiness.
It was only natural; the main fortress's greatest martial force had suddenly departed.
The one who calmed that state of alert was the King of Fathomless Light.
Projecting his voice with the mysterious quality unique to peerless experts with highly developed Upper Dantians, he had told everyone to stand down, assuring them the youth would return soon.
“It seems it is about time for him to return...”
Clasping his hands behind his back, the King of Fathomless Light gazed intently beyond the wall.
The Desolate Fortress warriors, including the Spirit-Nourishing Spear Wi Gon, stood silently at their posts for a long time.
Though they didn't go out of their way to show deference, Ju Ak, the King of Fathomless Light, was a formidable figure to them all. Furthermore, they were well aware of the ongoing debate between Jeong Yeon-shin and the King of Fathomless Light.
* * *
The sunset cast its glow.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt no particular worry as he flew back to Xiangyang after slaying the two sorcerers.
Before departing, he had scanned the entire vicinity of Xiangyang from the bedside of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
The only enemies who could stand even a slight chance against Ak Su-rim were the experts of Taemo Mountain Fortress. The rest weren't even worth mentioning.
Under the protection of the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress—currently the third strongest expert in the lands of Xiangyang—the party from the Martial World Alliance would safely enter the main fortress before nightfall.
Jegal Cheong-a, Old Master Hyeon.
He didn't know what had happened.
There was much he wanted to know.
Yet, he couldn't bring himself to ask Jegal Cheong-a.
The flow of thoughts in his mind had narrowed completely, rushing in only one direction. Just like his Baihui point, which communed directly with the heavens.
Hangzhou.
Only those two characters existed in his mind.
Clench.
Strength flooded his grip. At this moment, he was far from a gentleman. No matter what he destroyed or how he did it, his wrath would not be appeased.
Regardless of the massive consumption of his Law-Transcending Halo Qi, he felt that Sword Flight was the only suitable means of travel right now.
I can replenish my internal energy through meditation.
Swoooosh—!
With the sound of wind violently scraping past his ears, he bypassed the city center of Xiangyang. From this dizzying height, the people looking up appeared as mere dots.
The massive fortress rapidly drew near.
The main fortress of the Desolate Fortress.
Even now, Jeong Yeon-shin still possessed his reason.
He couldn't simply turn away from the responsibilities he naturally held as the highest authority of the main fortress. The people of the Desolate Fortress had to accept his departure properly.
[“Look here, Lord Jeong. I do not understand why you are wasting your martial power so needlessly. Why not share a drink with me instead?”]
Jeong Yeon-shin crossed the wall without stopping.
The voice struck his ears like meaningless noise; he didn't truly register it.
The moment he descended into the inner city of the Desolate Fortress, he sheathed Lingering Thunder with fluid grace and headed straight toward the Grand Steward's office. It was to meet the Elder Council Head and the Grand Steward.
“Lord Jeong! I was preparing a modest promotion ceremony, but...”
He didn't have to walk far.
Before he could even pass the central training ground, he ran into the very people who had come out to meet him: Shin Byeok and Im Jin-myeong.
Though they tried not to show it openly due to their high status, they wore slightly troubled expressions.
The reason soon became clear.
Thud!
“I heard you lost a subordinate, so as a king, I was showing you the utmost courtesy...”
Along with a heavy vibration, a cloud of dust swept up behind Jeong Yeon-shin like a tidal wave.
“But today is rather baffling. This is the first time I have ever been ignored to my face.”
A heavy gale disheveled the garments of Jeong Yeon-shin, Shin Byeok, and Im Jin-myeong. It was the backdraft of the Body Protection Scripture. The wind pressure generated from the man's landing was incredibly powerful.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly turned around.
The man clad in the blue four-clawed dragon robe was looking at him with a faint smile.
It was Ju Ak, the King of Fathomless Light. He was someone Jeong Yeon-shin had met once before, after the incident with the Heaven-Smiling Invincible. As a half-brother to Emperor Geonreung, he was one of the strongest members of the Ju imperial family.
The youth, clad in a purple robe reminiscent of plum blossoms in full bloom, slowly parted his lips.
“Your Highness, King of Fathomless Light.”
“You are as imposing as ever.” The King of Fathomless Light laughed heartily. “Where were you heading in such a hurry?”
“...I intend to make my way to Hangzhou.”
“Hangzhou again.”
The King of Fathomless Light tapped his forehead with a clenched fist in an exaggerated manner.
They had already clashed during their first meeting and had continuously exchanged opposing views through Grand Steward Im Jin-myeong ever since. Their stances hadn't narrowed in the slightest.
“Do you realize that to get from here to there, you must cross half of this country? I asked you to share a drink earlier... If you could return before the wine cools, that would be one thing, but it seems far too long a journey for a mere stroll.”
“...”
“Yeon-shin of the Henan Jeong family.”
Suddenly, a sharp glint appeared in the King of Fathomless Light's eyes.
“You are a figure who symbolizes this chaotic age. Whether by coincidence or fate, ever since you entered the Desolate Fortress, a massive wheel has begun to turn. Famine has spread rapidly, and the renowned experts of the great sects who had long held their positions have died one after another. It would not be an exaggeration to say that your footsteps align perfectly with the spread of this chaotic era.”
Listening to his archaic and refined manner of speaking, Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly recalled a certain man—his father, who had blamed his mother's death on a newborn baby.
“Are you blaming me?”
“Not at all.”
Dispelling his sharp aura as quickly as it had appeared, the King of Fathomless Light smiled slyly. His tone returned to normal.
“I am merely saying that the weight you carry is far greater than you realize. Just look at the faces of those who have lost their lives to your sword. The Jegal Clan Leader, the Moyong Clan Head, the Lord of the Golden Wing Sect, the Lord of the Tenth Sect, the Peng Family Head...”
The King of Fathomless Light counted them off on his fingers one by one as he spoke.
“They were all individuals who moved the world. You must now realize the presence you have built for yourself. Please, understand this: Xiangyang with 'Jeong Yeon-shin' present and Xiangyang with you absent are as different as heaven and earth.”
“I am not a cannon meant only to guard a fixed position.”
“A cannon? You are far more than that. You are the sword of this nation! The purple precious sword personally decreed by the Emperor himself! For such a person to head to the easternmost edge instead of guarding the heart of this land during a famine? Anyone would call that utterly preposterous.”
“...My companion is in mortal danger.”
“Have I not told you repeatedly in writing? Hangzhou is currently a battlefield for peerless experts. There is no need to exert yourself for a matter that can be left to the leaders of the Nine Sects in the mountains. It is a place where no one can predict the outcome, no matter who goes.”
“I intend to go alone.”
“When a force of the purple rank deploys, there must be proper justification and procedure. Guard your post. If you leave like this, who will protect Xiangyang? And what of the commoners nearby?”
“Do we not have Your Highness?”
“...?”
“I ask that you remain here until I return. Should the government offices not also look after government affairs? Do not shift the entire responsibility of stabilizing the people's livelihood onto the main fortress. It is already heavy enough.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly.
Behind him, Grand Steward Im Jin-myeong had stopped breathing.
Elder Council Head Shin Byeok stared with eyes as wide as saucers, his face pulled so taut that not a single wrinkle could be seen.
After staring blankly at Jeong Yeon-shin for a moment, the King of Fathomless Light suddenly split his lips into a wide grin and burst into laughter.
“Haha, ahahaha!”
He didn't stop.
As if struck by a devastating blow, the absolute ruler—second only to one and above all others—laughed mindlessly for a long time.
“...”
Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself that, indeed, the only peerless experts with their sanity intact were himself and a few old masters of the Orthodox factions.
Only when Jeong Yeon-shin's hand began to creep toward the scabbard of Lingering Thunder did the King of Fathomless Light's laughter finally subside.
“You want to order me around? You, of the Desolate Fortress?”
“How many more years would a sect survive if it turned a blind eye to its disciple who was dragged into mortal danger?”
“The spirit of the new purple rank is truly absurd. If you incur the wrath of the Fathomless Light Palace, there could be fatal disruptions to your supplies from that day forward... The Desolate Fortress would never bear such a burden just to pursue your individual righteousness. The place you belong to is a great sect far larger and vaster than you think.”
The King of Fathomless Light was right.
Jeong Yeon-shin had still not seen the entirety of the Divine Sword Corps' 17th Unit. The same went for the black-ranked experts of the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall, who led their respective comrades under the command of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
Whenever he imagined those scenes—sights that seemed possible only in dreams—a scale that defied the logic of a single sect would unfold in his mind.
“...”
Jeong Yeon-shin fell silent.
He remained quiet for a moment, newly realizing the sheer weight of responsibility borne by a purple-ranked expert expected to support such a massive fortress alone.
Just then.
Thud.
A sound echoed from very far away. It came from the direction of the outer wall.
When he raised his head, he saw the small silhouette of a person whose name and face he barely knew. The Spirit-Nourishing Spear, Wi Gon. He was said to be the younger brother of Wi Ye-ryeong, the Moon-Shooting Bow Ghost under his command.
Holding not the spear slung across his back, but a long Desolate Fortress standard, Wi Gon struck the extremely hard stone floor of the ramparts.
The sound gradually grew louder.
Thud! Thud—!
It wasn't just one person.
Gradually, the solitary rhythm began to multiply, spreading out like ripples across the surface of a still pond until a chorus of rhythmic sounds completely encircled the towering expanse of the main fortress. It was the warriors of the garrison, stepping out one by one to line the towering stone ramparts. In their hands, they held the heavy standards of the Desolate Fortress, and with synchronized, deliberate movements, they began striking the thick wooden shafts against the unforgiving stone ground.
At first, the strikes were slightly staggered, a chaotic echo of scattered loyalty ringing across the battlements. But soon, guided by an unspoken understanding and years of shared hardship, the disparate vibrations seamlessly merged into a single, unified pulse.
Thud!
It was not a loud, deafening sound that would shatter the eardrums or tear through the heavens like the war drums of a massive marching army. Instead, it was something far more profound.
Thud!
It merely vibrated the earth with a gentle, steady tremor, a deep resonance that seemed to seep into the very marrow of those who stood upon the walls. The low, rhythmic thrumming blended perfectly into the infinitely vast, blood-red glow of the sunset that was currently bleeding across the horizon, painting the world in shades of twilight and shadow.
In the first place, there were fewer than a hundred people lining those massive walls. Even if they struck the ramparts with all the martial qi they could muster, such a small number could not possibly recreate the chaotic, blood-boiling atmosphere of a true battlefield. There were no roaring battle cries, no clashes of steel, and no deafening horns signaling a violent charge.
And so.
Bathed in the dying light of the sun and the steady heartbeat of wooden standards against stone, the quietest promotion ceremony in the long, blood-stained history of the stronghold took place. There were no grand speeches, no opulent banquets, and no boisterous cheers to mark the occasion.
Yet, it carried a weight heavier than any mountain. For this was not merely a recognition of newly acquired authority; it was also a solemn ceremony of departure, a silent farewell from the warriors who would remain behind to guard the walls, offered to the one who was stepping out into the vast, unforgiving expanse of the martial world.
“...”
Watching this profound display of silent solidarity, the King of Fathomless Light fell completely silent. Words were entirely unnecessary in the face of such a raw, unspoken tribute. The absolute stillness of the King only added to the heavy, reverent atmosphere blanketing the fortress.
On that fateful day, beneath the watchful eyes of the setting sun and the rhythmic heartbeat of a hundred striking standards, the Desolate Fortress sent their purple rank out into the unpredictable currents of the martial world.