Chapter 458: Heaven's Tremor (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 458: Heaven's Tremor (2)
At that moment.
The boy stopped mid-stride toward the sword, a sudden frown marring his face.
He looked as if he had just been struck by a sudden pang of pain. The calm indifference he had displayed when singled out to draw the Magic Sword, Lingering Thunder, vanished without a trace.
Sitting atop his palanquin, Cho Il-seo knit his brows.
He spoke slowly.
"Is there a problem?"
"My arms and legs have suddenly grown longer lately..."
"A pain I, too, am familiar with. Yet your tone is strangely casual. I do not recall permitting you to speak down to me."
"Man, this really hurts. How did he endure it?" the boy muttered to himself.
A magnanimous aura exuded from his demeanor. It was the temperament of an educated scholar—a rare sight in these troubled times.
Even his stride toward the upright Lingering Thunder was peculiar. There was a subtle, structured rhythm to it, as if he had mastered an exceptionally unique martial art.
That fellow...?
The presence Cho Il-seo felt from him was not unfamiliar.
It was the exact same aura that inevitably clung to a genius like himself—the singular individual possessing overwhelmingly dominant talent, even within a great sect where every disciple was a prodigy.
Martial arts was a discipline that elevated a practitioner's stature through the most primal of forces. Even if one feigned a clumsy semblance of humility, the aura of the strong could never be fully hidden.
Still seated on his palanquin, Cho Il-seo flicked a finger.
A sudden streak of deep blue lightning materialized in midair, flashing down toward the crown of the boy's head.
"I suppose you are treated like royalty within your sect?"
Shifting smoothly to the side, the boy continued his walk toward Lingering Thunder.
A sharp crackle erupted where he had just stood, leaving a blackened scorch mark on the ground—the remnants of a miniature thunderbolt.
He had dodged it.
There was no trace of presence in his evasive footwork. It was a movement like a quietly spreading fragrance. There was only one such Body Protection Scripture in the world. At least, as far as Cho Il-seo knew.
Dark Fragrance Drift...!
Even disguised in the plain white robes common to the marketplace, he could not erase the distinct characteristics of his martial arts. This was especially true for the Body Protection Scripture of the Mount Hua Sect, renowned for its thousand-year martial lineage.
Cho Il-seo slightly raised his chin from where he sat.
"A disciple of Mount Hua has grown quite bold. Do you know where you are?"
"Where else would it be? Just another corner of this damnably vast land where bastards who've learned a bit of martial arts bicker over who's a king and who's a grunt."
"Have you come to avenge your Sect Leader?"
"Why would I mourn someone who is perfectly alive and well?"
The boy didn't even look at Cho Il-seo. He had already arrived in front of Lingering Thunder and was merely staring down at its hilt.
His back was turned to the crowd, who were whispering in renewed astonishment.
"The new Young Castle Lord can summon lightning as well...!"
"As expected, the bloodline of the Jade Emperor is truly something else. We must watch our words and actions."
"But did he just say a disciple of Mount Hua...?"
The boy in white robes did not make a move, even with the hilt of Lingering Thunder right before him.
He merely stood there blankly, even as a dozen disciples of Taemo Mountain Fortress surrounded him, pulling out bright yellow sophora paper.
The sorcerers of Taemo Mountain Fortress did not act rashly either. The movement the boy in white had shown earlier was mysterious enough to rival sorcery martial arts.
He could now be considered a powerhouse even in Hangzhou, a place known as Pandemonium.
"Strike on my signal."
They nodded at Cho Il-seo's command.
For a brief moment, a gust of wind swept from the bodies of the Taemo Mountain Fortress sorcerers. The onlookers, sensing the ominous atmosphere, began to scatter in all directions.
That was enough.
Taemo Mountain Fortress and Heaven's Bane had suffered a major disaster, each losing three of their top masters, but they remained formidable sects.
The masters of sorcery martial arts alone were proof of this. The greater their numbers, the more their power swelled like gathering clouds.
And what of Heaven's Bane? One of the two remaining Five Sword Masters of the Heavens was the legitimate successor to the Lord of Heaven's Bane.
That supreme master had already reached the realm of dismantling sorcery with swordplay. This was also the person Cho Il-seo secretly regarded as his future betrothed—and a wall he had to overcome.
And then there were the Master of Taemo Mountain Fortress and the Lord of Heaven's Bane.
I have no time to waste here, yet I cannot gauge the depth of that fellow's martial arts.
As Cho Il-seo's gaze deepened, the boy in white slowly opened his mouth.
"It really... is the real thing..."
His relaxed eyes trembled slightly.
Disbelief and shock. Though the boy in white was enveloped in the clear energy characteristic of a Taoist martial lineage, a sudden ripple seemed to disturb his heart.
He soon raised his gaze toward Cho Il-seo.
"You want me to draw it?"
"I admit I misspoke. Even if it is drawn, it can never be yours."
"What?"
"Is it not only right that the belongings of the dead go to the victor? The Wilderness Sunfall died in defeat while opposing our fortress and Heaven's Bane. Thus, only our two sects have any right to claim ownership of that legendary magic sword. At the very least, there is absolutely no room for Mount Hua to interfere..."
"How utterly classless."
The boy in white cut him off with a brief retort and gripped the hilt of the sword. Cho Il-seo's eyes narrowed instantly.
"I think I know who you are. The Purple Mist Divine Art is a martial art that completely unifies the physical body and True Qi... If Mount Hua's Purple Grace Pill has properly dissolved into your body, it makes sense that your height would differ from the rumors. You are indeed the disciple of Lady Yul-ha, who trod the realm of agelessness even when she was just a rising star."
"You sure babble a lot. So noisy."
"If you so much as make a show of drawing that sword, you will pay dearly. It is not a right you are permitted to have."
"He gave it to me himself, so what nonsense is this?"
Thud!
Dust billowed from beneath the feet of Yu-hyeon, Mount Hua's Hidden Dragon.
Planting his feet firmly on the ground, he tightened his grip on Lingering Thunder's hilt. Instantly, the veins on the back of his hand bulged.
At the same time, Cho Il-seo gestured with his chin toward Yu-hyeon. It was an order to his subordinates.
"Kill him."
The Magic Sword, Lingering Thunder.
It was the trace of the Wilderness Sunfall, Jeong Yeon-shin. It symbolized the man who had swept through all kinds of great sects like a tempest, racing across the Jianghu alongside these troubled times.
Naturally, to the Heterodox Sects of the Thirteen Heavens, it was bound to be a treasured sword akin to a monument in many ways.
The same held true for those caught between the orthodox and unorthodox paths, as well as some members of the Orthodox Factions. After all, how many masters of the Eight Great Families had perished at the hands of the newly appointed Purple Rank?
Just as the entire martial world had coveted the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps' Sword of Divine Attainment for the longest time, the divine sword named Lingering Thunder was becoming a trophy that any martial artist desired to possess.
They could not let Mount Hua's Hidden Dragon take it away like this.
Cho Il-seo deliberately curled his lips into a smirk.
"It seems the deceased was not entirely lacking in friends. I thought the Wilderness Sunfall was a solitary, aloof bastard, but... the Purple Rank crossing the Sanzu River won't be lonely thanks to you."
Though it is but one more.
Cho Il-seo's final thought was swallowed by a sudden, deafening roar.
Boom!
The sky flashed white. It was the effect of the sorcery martial arts' energy. Immediately after, a storm of fiery lightning filled the air, accompanied by translucent gusts of wind that stretched out like sword blades.
It was a strike from the Taemo Mountain Fortress masters guarding Cho Il-seo's palanquin. Every single offensive form was accompanied by a monstrous explosion.
Beneath it, Yu-hyeon's face contorted in frustration. Mount Hua's Hidden Dragon strained his arms this way and that.
"What is wrong with this sword? Why won't it actually draw...!"
At the same time.
Amidst the crowd that had begun to flee the moment the fight broke out, a massive hammer soared into the air, only to shatter on its own and turn into silver dust.
It looked like a rain of flowers blooming in the sky.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
The shower of iron flower petals deflected the crimson lightning and the fierce, biting wind. Orange sparks flew in all directions, accompanied by a harsh, grating sound like metal scraping against iron plates.
The sorcerers, who were burning the yellow sophora paper to ash in their hands, flinched.
"What...!"
The silver shards, spread wide, were like a massive Body Protection Qi. This was evident from how they completely neutralized the offensive forms of the sorcery martial arts that mimicked natural disasters.
It was a feat impossible without a renowned Divine Ultimate Technique.
Another intruder had arrived.
[I heard you were a friend of my benefactor, but watching this is simply absurd.]
It was the Six Harmonies Sound Transmission. A chilling energy surged.
[If you intend to show such a pathetic display, step aside. I shall draw it myself.]
Piercing through the dust kicked up by the crowd, a small figure walked out. The bold, unhesitating strides were striking.
It was a temperament permitted only to those who had once conquered vast territories.
And murder lust could be felt. It would not be wrong to call it sheer fury.
This was not someone mourning a death, but one who vented their anger through the martial arts held in their hands.
Cho Il-seo stood up from his palanquin.
"Myriad Blossoms Rain... Could it be...?"
The question that escaped his lips dissolved fruitlessly into the air.
Something was beginning.
* * *
He did not know how much time had passed.
The corpse of the imugi, coiled in the pitch-black underground cavern, was overwhelming regardless of the airflow. In the cave, deep and cold as an abyss, what Jeong Yeon-shin felt was the sword, the sword, and yet again, the sword.
The damp air only served to weigh down his robe, which had been reduced to rags by the Lord of Heaven's Bane's sword strikes.
Taiji...
The darkness of the cave was incredibly deep. Was it the resentment of the imugi slain by Perfected Zhang Sanfeng? An atmosphere existed that seemed to drag a person's soul downward, like an abyss.
Even the sound of water dripping intermittently from far away felt desolate.
Yet nothing could stop Jeong Yeon-shin, who was lost in deep contemplation.
He had long since accepted one truth.
No matter how anxious he became, he could not rescue Baek Mi-ryeo from Hangzhou, where the Lord of Heaven's Bane, the Master of Taemo Mountain Fortress, and the Ming Cult Leader were secretly active.
It was a land where any number of other variables might interfere. It was only right to leave this place stronger.
Thus, he tempered his mind like a sword.
It was not easy. This was because a demon was by his side.
[This is terrible. Baek Mi-ryeo says she won't learn martial arts from me.]
It was the Heaven-Smiling Invincible.
She floated around Jeong Yeon-shin, lying sideways in midair.
A supple posture and a gentle tone. At some point, even the nightclothes draped over her translucent body had stopped changing back into the cape she originally wore.
It was mockery. This was evident from the way she propped her head up with one hand.
[She glares at me with bloodshot eyes, and it sends a thrill right down my spine. None of those who walked the Demonic Path were like that. Most of them would make all sorts of grand boasts until they saw me, but once they actually stood before me, they would beg for a single lesson. And they call themselves demons.]
"..."
Sitting cross-legged, Jeong Yeon-shin thought of the term demonic horde.
It referred to the demons said to have hindered the Buddha's enlightenment. It was a fitting description for the ghost currently drifting beside him.
[Come to think of it, Baek Mi-ryeo isn't your only problem. You flung Mount Hua's Sect Leader away to that extent, and yet you seek enlightenment?]
Her figure did not appear faint just because they were in an underground cavern. Rather, she was as distinct as if she were standing under the midday sun.
The same went for her features, which were alluring enough to bewitch anyone like a demon. Far from being pale like a corpse, her vitality was so robust that even her lips were a vibrant crimson.
A demon defying heaven.
How was such a form possible? She possessed a constitution that should have died long ago.
Or is she constantly running the Great Heavenly Cycle, replacing her Innate Qi with near-infinite internal energy? If so, her blood flow would be rapid as well.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly opened his lips.
"Surprisingly, you might be vulnerable in a war of attrition."
[Hmm?]
The Ming Cult Leader tilted her head slyly.
There was no change in her aura. However, Jeong Yeon-shin was neither particularly disappointed nor deeply worried about Lady Yul-ha.
The current Sect Leader of Mount Hua was a master of the Dark Fragrance Drift. Unless she stood her ground to slay her opponent, there were few in the world who could capture her once she resolved to flee.
A supreme master of the Nine Great Sects would not risk her life just to retrieve the corpse of the newly appointed Purple Rank.
The Saint Flower Sword God, Lady Yul-ha, whom Jeong Yeon-shin had seen, was a witty and affectionate person, but at the same time, she was someone who would uphold her duty.
Was she not the Sect Leader who stood alone, representing the sharp peaks of Mount Hua? She was different from the Perfected Ancient Sword, who had been exceedingly gentle.
Yes, unlike the Perfected Ancient Sword...
[I can see a little bit of it too... Since the entire martial world thinks you are dead anyway, why not just be my companion here?]
A voice cut through Jeong Yeon-shin's thoughts. The Heaven-Smiling Invincible brought her face close to his cheek. A massive skull loomed directly in front of them.
The skull of the imugi.
An iron sword stood out, plunged into the center of its massive crown.
It was the source of his inspiration. At least, it was for Jeong Yeon-shin.
The center of Taiji.
He recalled the distant past.
It was when he was creating Dharma Power. At the time, to oppose the Blood Flame Cult, he had studied Buddhist doctrines under Great Monk Wonjeok of Shaolin. It was a process of groping in the dark, trying to feel what Dharma Power would be like from absolute nothingness.
It was different now.
There was a trace right before his eyes.
A sword mark left by the founding ancestor of the Wudang Sect himself. Until now, Jeong Yeon-shin had strived to feel Zhang Sanfeng, even while his Law-Transcending Halo Qi was completely depleted and his sense of Qi was lost.
It is possible.
Perfected Zhang Sanfeng had...
...drawn a massive Taiji using the imugi's body. With a single sword, he had bound a creature of strange, violent, chaotic, and supernatural power that was on the verge of ascending. If so, what kind of energy had he used to create such a sight?
The Three Pure Powers of Taoism.
The iron sword was engraved into Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.
He had no intention of dragging out a proper closed-door cultivation for so long. Such a thing was only fit for stones or monkeys.
For a mayfly like himself, the only thing permitted was a straight, unwavering flight.