Chapter 466: The Peerless Grand Festival
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 466: The Peerless Grand Festival
The antique circular window glowed a stark white.
The transparent sunlight, which normally streamed through the round frame, was completely blocked out. It hung there as the most vivid color in the room, resembling a scroll painting of a pale face. The room's owner had willed it to be so.
Inside the chamber, dark demonic energy drifted like mist.
Beside the bed, Baek Mi-ryeo sat cross-legged.
Her eyes were closed as if lost in meditation. Exceptionally pitch-black hair cascaded over the back of her blue martial uniform, pooling onto the floor. A long Desolate Fortress sword rested across her knees. She was a swordsman.
The luxurious bed, draped in a golden tapestry, remained untouched and bore no indentations. It stood in stark contrast to the turbulent state of mind of Baek Mi-ryeo from the Demonlight Wing.
"..."
Her pale eyelids trembled—a recurring phenomenon that visited her intermittently.
—The new Purple Rank is dead.
Those were the words the Heaven-Smiling Invincible had casually dropped upon entering her room one day.
She had even shown her the exact moment of his death through a bizarre sorcery martial art, projecting it like a mirage in the great desert.
A majestically flowing river, a blind man in a bamboo hat walking upon the water's surface, a massive iceberg, the Dark Sky Emperor... and Jeong Yeon-shin. In the marketplace where she had been quietly dragged away after the Ming Cult Leader sealed all her acupoints, the Commander's Lingering Thunder remained solitary, driven deep into the ground.
Rumors that Taemo Mountain Fortress had secured the Lotus Nezha's Divine Sword were also spreading far and wide.
After that, she was imprisoned once more.
She was placed right in the center of the Bright Demon Heaven-Severing Formation, personally deployed by the Heaven-Smiling Invincible. True to its name, it was an array that seemed to sever space itself, making escape utterly impossible with the martial prowess of a Desolate Fortress Blue Rank.
Suddenly, Baek Mi-ryeo's internal energy breathing faltered.
It was a deep heart demon.
"Young Cult Leader, breakfast is served."
A middle-aged woman's polite voice echoed from outside the door. The wave of internal power radiating from her presence was formidable.
It was a level of internal cultivation mastery that would have easily earned her a blue martial uniform in the Desolate Fortress. It was even tinged with a faint, overbearing demonic energy. She was a servant of the Ming Cult who concealed her true colors, possessing high-level martial arts despite her lowly status.
Following the will of the current Ming Cult Leader, she treated Baek Mi-ryeo as the successor to the Heaven-Smiling Invincible. This was despite the fact that she normally should have despised Baek Mi-ryeo, who hailed from a collateral martial lineage and the Pure Demon Alliance.
"..."
Yet, even at the servant's call, Baek Mi-ryeo did not open her eyes.
Her meditation did not stem from martial arts. A profound sense of guilt and a pitiful feeling of having nowhere left to go surged through her mind—shattered and broken, much like Jeong Yeon-shin's Desolate Fortress sword and Northern Light sword during a past mission.
The sin of driving her Commander to his death.
The sin of failing to commit suicide before his eyes.
And what was she to do about the sin of preventing him from fully living out his brief heavenly mandate? The world that the young Commander had yet to see still stretched out vast and wide.
...The sin of being defeated by the ancient past.
Just as Baek Mi-ryeo's heart demon was deepening...
The hinges of the door opposite her suddenly creaked. Leather shoes overlaid with ebony and embroidered with golden dragon tassels stepped inside with a soft thud.
"Are you ready for revenge?"
A woman's voice asked, gliding smoothly through the dark mist.
Only then did Baek Mi-ryeo open her eyes.
"Ready?"
"Ready to receive this Cult Leader's martial arts into your body. Jeong Yeon-shin's martial arts combined with my demonic art. No matter how many times I think about it, it is a blessing far too generous for you."
She possessed a face that even the black mist of demonic energy could not obscure.
Her features were, quite literally, as mysterious as Jeong Yeon-shin's. The Ming Cult Leader, the Heaven-Smiling Invincible, looked down at Baek Mi-ryeo with a faint smirk playing on her lips.
"..."
"I cannot wait forever. Though you might think otherwise, I have treated you with due respect in my own way. Extravagant feasts, a room like a palace, the impeccable conduct of the servants... After all, you too are a successor of the Vast Art Formula."
The black hair cascading over her shoulders was even darker than Baek Mi-ryeo's.
Rather than human hair, it held a presence akin to a crown permitted only to an emperor. The high bridge of her nose, which seemed to sharply slice through the hazy mist, exuded sheer arrogance.
If Jeong Yeon-shin had lived a few years longer, he might have looked like that. That was the only thought that flashed through Baek Mi-ryeo's mind at this moment. She slowly parted her lips.
"...I will not treat you as my master."
Her voice was cold.
Instead of an answer, a low chuckle echoed.
Rustle.
In the next instant, the Heaven-Smiling Invincible vanished from before Baek Mi-ryeo's eyes, reappearing to sit cross-legged right behind her back.
A few long, stray strands of black hair lightly brushed against Baek Mi-ryeo's shoulder before falling away. She flinched slightly.
"I must ensure it is no worse than what Brother Jeong created. Well... though your evaluation hardly matters, unlike that of the man himself."
Her voice swept down the nape of Baek Mi-ryeo's neck like a whisper, carrying a terrifying demonic allure even without much breath behind it. Baek Mi-ryeo's eyes slowly closed.
* * *
Hangzhou's Mok Family Manor.
It was an immensely vast estate, and currently the most bustling place in the eastern lands.
Although the walls encircling the manor were on the lower side, they were as sturdy as fortress walls. The sheer volume of the crowds surrounding those walls in yet another layer created a tremendous sense of intimidation.
The crowd mostly consisted of rogue mercenaries hired by great landowners and wealthy merchants. There were also local sects of Hangzhou voluntarily standing guard, and the interior of the Mok Family Manor was just as packed with people as the outside.
More than a hundred commoners bustled back and forth between the courtyard and the inner gardens.
"Divine Physician, sir! I brought a bundle of Kaihuang grass here. Where should I put it?"
"The Elder is currently in the inner quarters. Please place it in the storehouse over there for now."
"Ah, so Scholar Un is the chief steward today! Then tomorrow..."
"Merchant Leader Yeonam is scheduled to handle the affairs."
This was the estate of the man who held the title of the Eternal Candle Divine Physician.
Since the physician's surname was Mok, it was called the Mok Family Manor. It had been voluntarily built by the wealthy elites and the masses of Hangzhou. Despite being constructed in a short period, it had long since become a famous landmark, drawing even larger crowds than the West Lake.
This remained true even though he had already cured nearly all the people of Hangzhou suffering from all kinds of bizarre illnesses with his peerless medical skills.
They were here to repay his grace.
Some among them even regarded the Divine Physician as an immortal of a higher rank than the Dark Sky Emperor, staying at the manor to receive his blessings. They voluntarily took on all sorts of chores. Every single person there represented the heart of Hangzhou itself.
No matter what chaos raged outside, they remained fiercely protective and wary of outsiders. Naturally, at this moment, all eyes gathered on the group walking toward the entrance of the Mok Family Manor. The footsteps of the martial artists slowly ground to a halt.
Thud.
A group approached, carrying a large coffin on a cart.
Their disciplined strides kicked up clouds of dust. Anyone could tell at a glance that they were martial artists of the Orthodox Factions.
Clad mostly in green and blue martial uniforms, their attire—which would have originally been pristine—was now riddled with sword cuts and caked in dust.
A young woman with a scholarly air led the way. It was Jegal Cheong-a, the Serene Deep Eye.
Two steps behind her, a noble young master carrying a sword walked as if guarding her. He had short-cropped hair and wore a light green silk martial uniform. He was Gongson Min, the Young Master of the Gongson Clan, which was likewise one of the pillars of the Eight Great Families.
"If only the horses hadn't died..."
Gongson Min wiped his shadow-cast face with the back of his hand. At his words, Jegal Cheong-a shook her head.
"We faced the Horde of Demons Green Forest and the Myriad Phenomena Water Channel Fortress. Considering we fought our way through factions counted among the next generation of the Thirteen Heavens, arriving now is actually early. If anything, we are fortunate not to have run into any high-ranking figures."
"Young Master Jegal's words are correct, but..."
They still possessed an air of nobility, but their current appearance was closer to that of defeated soldiers.
Suddenly, at Jegal Cheong-a's gesture, a martial artist from afar quickly closed the distance. He looked as though he had just returned from scouting.
Even as she continued toward the Mok Family Manor, Jegal Cheong-a asked him without delay, "What about what I asked you to investigate? Start with Lord Jeong's tracks."
"Judging by the rumors, it seems he arrived here in about three days. According to what I heard from the Desolate Fortress martial artists, after the Sun Lotus Sword Enchantress was defeated, the new Purple Rank engaged in a battle of nerves with the King of Fathomless Light for three days. That was the beginning. From the moment Lord Jeong made his move to the time most of the Five Sword Masters of the Heavens and the original Young Master of Taemo Mountain Fortress were slain, another three days passed. Lord Jeong's journey ended in a total of six days."
"How could he move at such a speed..."
One of their companions began to lament but quickly shut his mouth. He knew that shortly after those events, Taemo Mountain Fortress had grandly announced the death of Jeong Yeon-shin.
"..."
The martial artists of the Martial World Alliance each stole glances at Jegal Cheong-a. There was no one who didn't know that their temporary Chief Strategist had served as a guest warrior under the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, even if only for a short time.
If Jegal Cheong-a had learned even a single technique from the new Purple Rank during that time, they could be considered to have a loose master-disciple relationship.
The death of the Desolate Fortress's new Purple Rank.
Jeong Yeon-shin was a highly controversial figure in many ways. His martial prowess, which had grown incredibly strong in a terrifyingly short period, was the primary reason.
Not only were there rumors that he went around creating countless martial arts with his heaven-sent talent, but there was also a highly dangerous rumor that Jeong Yeon-shin was the author of the Compendium of Demon Extermination, which had recently been spreading throughout the Jianghu.
There were even wild rumors that he was born with an immortal body and had reappeared in Hangzhou once again.
It was a chaotic era where clean, reliable information was hard to come by. No rumor could be easily believed.
A brief silence fell, but Jegal Cheong-a did not stop walking. Atop her shoulders rested the lives of many, including the Sword Saint, Hyeon So-baek.
That responsibility was a crushing weight. It was identical to the one that the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, Jeong Yeon-shin, had once carried on his back.
"By the way, I heard the Divine Physician's temperament is quite extraordinary... Of course, it is entirely up to the Chief Strategist to handle, but for my part, I wouldn't even know how to broach the subject. There must already be many patients lined up."
Gongson Min spoke as he caressed the sword at his waist. In his now quite faded memory, it was a weapon that the Lotus Nezha had once borrowed. It was also the heirloom of the Gongson Clan.
"We must wait. We cannot cut the line," Jegal Cheong-a replied curtly, taking a large stride forward.
It did not take long to speak with the scholar who served as the chief steward of the Mok Family Manor, settle the payment, and be assigned a pavilion to stay in temporarily.
The Martial World Alliance group silently entered a pavilion located in a corner of the estate.
Only then did the commoners of the Mok Family Manor begin to whisper.
"I guess the Orthodox Factions really are orthodox."
"They looked like they had a lot of martial world aristocrats among them. I thought we were in for a major disaster."
The people, who had been wary of the imposing outsiders, breathed a sigh of relief. This was because there were swarms of martial artists who would barge in out of nowhere and violently demand treatment for their internal injuries.
Even now, there was no shortage of swordsmen loitering around the vicinity. The surrounding atmosphere was as sharp as a sword's edge.
And so, the sun began to set.
* * *
It was evening.
The orange breath of the setting sun fell obliquely against the walls.
In the midst of this calm...
Suddenly, a man banged loudly on the door of the pavilion where the Martial World Alliance group was staying. The eyes of the martial artist standing guard right in front of the door widened.
He had not felt even a trace of anyone passing by him. The man's movements had been as natural as a branch swaying in a gentle breeze.
A master...!
He was even more shocked upon seeing the intruder's face. With long ears and a beautiful, ethereal face, he seemed to transcend the mortal realm.
It was the rumored Eternal Candle Divine Physician.
Even though he wore a dusty yellow robe, he possessed a presence like a giant tree. It was, quite literally, a wood qi that only a massive, ancient tree could emit.
Any martial artist of the Martial World Alliance with a proper sense of qi could feel an incredibly refreshing energy radiating from him.
"Come out here!"
The Divine Physician called for the leader of the group, declaring he would test whether they were worthy of receiving his medical skills after causing such a racket.
With the life of their Alliance Leader on the line, the guard did not dare act rashly. The Eternal Candle Divine Physician's harmonious features and grass-like scent also played a part in keeping him subdued.
Jegal Cheong-a immediately stepped outside. The other martial artists of the Martial World Alliance quickly grabbed their weapons and burst out of their respective rooms. Gongson Min did the same.
Thud! Thud, thud!
"You're going to break the door down. You'll pay for the damages before you leave, right?"
Clicking his tongue, the Divine Physician added under his breath, "This is why I can't stand Jianghu folks."
"Ah."
It was before Jegal Cheong-a could even open her mouth. Letting out a soft exclamation, the Divine Physician gestured with his chin toward the wide-open door.
The coffin that the Martial World Alliance group had brought and guarded like a sacred relic was sitting there.
"Did you come because of that?"
"Yes, Elder Mok. This junior is named Cheong-a of the Jegal Clan. As the strategist of the Hangzhou Martial World Alliance..."
"No."
Jegal Cheong-a, who was politely clasping her hands, was cut off. The man known as the Divine Physician was already shaking his head.
"Medicine cannot help him. That is the state he is in."
"...I have heard that the Eternal Candle Divine Physician wields miraculous sorcery martial arts. If you could just take a look yourself..."
At Jegal Cheong-a's words, the Divine Physician's brow furrowed.
"Are you asking me to bestow such a precious talent upon those who do nothing but bicker and fight in the Jianghu? Besides, I told you, that is not under my jurisdiction. To resolve this, you must find the bastard who made him like that. Or wait until that bastard dies."
"That is impossible. If there is any other price, we are willing to pay whatever it takes."
"In the first place, it wasn't even your turn. I merely stopped by while taking a stroll to clear my head so my fingertips wouldn't tremble when administering acupuncture. Do not waste your time in vain."
It was then.
Suddenly, dozens of masked men dropped down over the walls. The soft rustling of their footsteps on the dirt was barely audible.
Taking advantage of the moment when the guards outside had let down their guard, they had launched a night raid. Without a doubt, they were highly trained martial artists.
It was a common occurrence.
Outstanding talent was bound to become an object of greed. This was especially true when that talent was the art of saving lives.
Naturally, this was not the first or second time this had happened.
One could tell just by looking at the Divine Physician's leisurely attitude. Unlike the martial artists of the Martial World Alliance who immediately reacted and gripped their weapons, he looked incredibly accustomed to it, as if it were an event he encountered every time he went for a walk.
"The Divine Physician always says the exact same thing."
One of the intruders placed his hand on his sword hilt. He seemed to view the Martial World Alliance group, whose request had just been rejected, as potential allies.
"'Do not waste your time in vain?' What a ridiculous joke. Aren't there barely any patients left in the vicinity anyway?"
"And?"
The Divine Physician asked, clasping his hands behind his back. A few sparse blades of grass near his feet swayed gently.
The aura radiating from his entire body was like an impregnable fortress wall.
"I heard you can heal even those with severed limbs in less than an hour. Hoarding such a heaven-sent talent is a sin. I won't ask you to follow us. Just do not discriminate against those who hold swords. Do not push our names down the patient registry."
At the masked man's words, the Divine Physician laughed.
"Around this time, several commoners suffering from acute indigestion come up here. To me, they are the priority."
"How can someone who can reattach severed limbs in a single day say such a thing...! Are you truly mocking the people of the Jianghu?"
"If a commoner with acute indigestion gets a good night's sleep tonight, tomorrow, without fail, a couple of rice stalks will sprout. Even in a year of famine, it is the same. But what do you people create? How do you contribute to this country?"
The Divine Physician smirked. As he spat out these biting words with his hands clasped behind his back, he seemed strangely detached from the secular world.
To Jegal Cheong-a and the other martial artists of the Martial World Alliance, the Divine Physician's words and actions were clearly a provocation intended to incite the intruders.
It was an insult no martial artist could easily let slide. He clearly had a knack for provocation. Even the masters who had come to plead for the Sword Saint found their breathing faltering here and there.
Jegal Cheong-a could not bring herself to speak. The Divine Physician was of the Brightfolk. This meant that sweet talk or lies would not work on him. She had to ponder deeply.
Was there any way to secure the cooperation of this eccentric physician other than resorting to force?
"In my rather long life, I have found that the people of the Jianghu are worse than beasts of burden. I am one who saves lives. How could I prioritize those who kill?"
Just as the Divine Physician spoke with a smirk...
"A true physician indeed."
A sudden, quiet murmur drifted down, reaching the ears of every martial artist present. Though it was spoken softly, akin to a self-directed whisper, the words carried a profound weight that effortlessly pierced through the heavy, suffocating tension of the courtyard. The voice was laced with an unadulterated, pure admiration. It was a tone so utterly devoid of mockery or deceit that anyone—even the most cynical, battle-hardened veteran of the Jianghu—could instantly tell it was entirely sincere. In a gathering where legendary masters were holding their breath, this casual remark struck like a thunderbolt.
The sound did not come from among the tightly packed ranks of the pleading masters, nor did it originate from the eccentric Divine Physician standing before them. Instead, it echoed from high above the crowd, drifting down from a vantage point that no one had even realized was occupied. The sheer impossibility of someone bypassing the heightened senses of so many elite martial artists sent a collective jolt through the assembly. In perfect, unbroken unison, the gazes of every master present shot upward, their eyes locking onto the towering peak of the perimeter wall.
Perched casually atop the stone boundary was a young man. His appearance was so exceptionally, breathtakingly handsome that it defied the bounds of mortal reality; even with their own eyes fixed upon him, the onlookers found it hard to believe such a visage could exist in the waking world. He sat there with the relaxed, effortless grace of a celestial being, completely unbothered by the deadly masters gathered below. Yet, it was not merely his peerless features that seized their attention, but the grotesque burden he bore. Slung carelessly over his shoulder was a freshly severed human arm. The disembodied limb was eerily pristine, still brimming with a sickening, vibrant vitality, as if it had only just been cleaved from its owner’s body mere seconds ago.
Behind his seated figure, the sprawling canvas of the evening sky was ablaze with the dying light of the sun. Yet, framed against his silhouette, the magnificent, fiery sunset seemed to pale, entirely losing its brilliant luster. He was radiating an aura so intense that it warped the very air around him. It appeared as though he were actively circulating a profound, dynamic cultivation art; a hazy, mirage-like shimmer of pure internal energy continuously wavered and pulsed across his entire body. This visible manifestation of qi did not just envelop his own form—it extended outwards, wrapping around the severed arm draped over his shoulder, preserving its macabre life force.
His figure, bathed in that shimmering distortion of martial power, was utterly transcendent. He did not merely exist within the space; he dominated it. It was an overwhelming, absolute presence that completely supplanted the vast, crimson majesty of the sunset, etching itself permanently into the minds of everyone who bore witness to his sudden arrival.