Chapter 485: Wilderness Sunfall (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 485: Wilderness Sunfall (4)
The inner quarters of the Mok Manor.
Suddenly opening his eyes, a sharp intuition struck Jeong Yeon-shin's mind.
...The Dark Sky Emperor is dead.
The old monster named Cho Yeol no longer existed in this world. His essence, qi, and spirit had all been completely annihilated. The same went for the Dark Sky Emperor's internal energy that had remained on the earth.
An insight originated from the Baihui point at the crown of his head.
The Unified Martial Transcendence: Realm of Void Extinction had completely vanished from Hangzhou.
It was just like the futile end of countless martial artists who often died in obscurity on some nameless mountain.
Naturally, Jeong Yeon-shin's upper dantian began to glow white-hot once again.
It was a thoroughly wretched feeling, but for the world at large, it was a cause for celebration. A single person's short-lived fate had nothing to do with the peace of the world.
Had Cho Yeol remained alive, another catastrophic event like the Flood Dragon Manifestation would have occurred eventually. It was for the best.
Furthermore...
Yeon-shin instantly realized who had achieved this feat. To him, neither the Lord of the Desolate Fortress nor the sect leaders of the Nine Sects were subjects of wariness.
He didn't even need to narrow the range of his sense of qi or increase its density.
Brother Heonwon.
The man who could be called Yeon-shin's true brother had eliminated the lingering threat.
The infinitely sharp, distinct qi wave of the Lord of Heaven's Bane had been in the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress's grasp, as if he were wielding a Dharma treasure.
It was something no leader of any sect had managed to do.
As a Purple Rank of the main fortress, he would have to ensure the man received immense credit for this.
If he spoke to the Chief Steward's Office, Heonwon Chang might even qualify for a Black Rank promotion, regardless of the Divine Hero's somewhat inconsistent martial prowess.
"...Why are you staring blankly like that? You're not a newborn."
The Divine Doctor, who had entered Yeon-shin's field of vision, spoke with a grumpy face.
His complexion was extremely pale, and his cheeks were so hollowed out that "haggard" was an understatement. He looked like a walking corpse.
"Seeing how you're staying in bed when you're perfectly capable of getting up, it seems you've finally realized that idling around in a room is the best kind of life."
"Pardon?"
"A status like a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress is only glamorous on the outside. In the name of saving the world, don't you just end up carving away at your own soul and body through slaughter? A truly good life is that of a manor master, running a prosperous estate in some quiet countryside. Make sure to remember that, for your own sake."
"Elder."
"Hmm?"
"Before we met here in Hangzhou, have we met somewhere else before?" Yeon-shin asked, gazing at him intently.
The grumpy expression on the Divine Doctor's face turned peculiar.
A strange sentiment flickered in his eyes. Across his smooth face, characteristic of his noble clan, invisible wrinkles seemed to swim through the passage of time.
"Why do you ask that?"
"I asked because you feel familiar," Yeon-shin answered casually. It was the truth.
A brief silence fell between them.
"...I wouldn't know."
"I see."
"Rather than that, why don't you turn your attention elsewhere? Those who desperately wish for your recovery are gathering."
"Do you mean the Lord of the Fortress and the senior sect leaders?"
"I couldn't care less about them."
He frowned, as if telling Yeon-shin not to even bring them up. Immediately after, the Divine Doctor pointed toward the closed window.
"The Emperor is dead."
Those words.
They were spat out ruthlessly.
It was news that shook even the composure of Jeong Yeon-shin, who had drawn closer to being a true gentleman after witnessing the Taiji. He felt no falsehood in the Divine Doctor's words.
His upper dantian whispered to his mind: It is the truth.
Meanwhile, the Divine Doctor's voice continued in a flat, level tone.
"The Son of Heaven... the pillar supporting the heavens has collapsed. The world is on the brink of ruin, and the imperial Ju clan, local warlords, indigenous sects, and all kinds of great sects are watching with wide-open eyes. They want to see which way this country will drift."
"Emperor Geonreung... truly...?"
"Every single one of them possesses more than enough power to plunge this land into hell. You must know this better than I do. With all that nonsense about the Thirteen Heavens, the Nine Sects and One Gang, the Eight Great Families, and the local aristocrats of the martial world."
"..."
"But the Lord of the Desolate Fortress does not involve herself in such chaotic political affairs. She is a solitary, lofty figure. She never stepped forward unless the Emperor personally requested it. She moved only for reasons beyond human comprehension... like a natural disaster. Therefore, the one drawing the world's gaze today..."
Tap.
"...can only be this purple robe. The pinnacle of the Xiangyang martial world, capable of mobilizing all the martial artists of the Desolate Fortress."
The Divine Doctor, who had been administering acupuncture, tapped Yeon-shin's chest with his finger.
For some reason, it felt like receiving harsh advice from a paternal grandfather he had never met. Yeon-shin stared down at his own chest.
He recalled the face of the Emperor, which had been shrouded in mystery.
"In terms of official rank, a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress is considered more important than a first-rank official, even surpassing most imperial family members. You must have heard of the atrocities your maternal grandfather committed in Beijing. Yet, it is a position of such authority that he walked away with all his limbs intact. A few words from you lot can sway the center of power that rules the world. It is even more so now that the Emperor has passed away. Countless people from all walks of life will clamor for your attention."
"Power...?"
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had his eyelids lowered slightly, twitched his lips.
His head tilted to the side.
He understood the Divine Doctor's words, but they didn't truly resonate with him. The Emperor Geonreung he knew was a man who cared deeply for the livelihoods of the common people.
— If that heart of yours remains unbroken for eternity, then you are the sword of this nation.
The Emperor had never intended to summon Jeong Yeon-shin to the Northern Region. He had only brought it up as a joke during their first meeting.
He had allowed the other Purple Ranks to attend to their own affairs. He did not let them get consumed by a battlefield that could immediately threaten the imperial power.
It was as if the Three Great Masters of the Imperial Family and the martial artists of the Ju clan were enough to handle the demonfolk experts.
Even while looking toward the north, he had never let go of the people's livelihoods.
In the end, the Emperor lost both and took responsibility with his death—though no one knew how the consequences of that would storm through the future.
Yeon-shin thought: Should the descendants of such a man move out of a desire for power? Unless they wish to lose their heads.
"Yes, power."
The Divine Doctor smirked.
"Incompetent martial artists comfort themselves by saying a single sword is enough for life, but among the martial clans and sects that boast of their influence, there isn't a single one that hasn't shared drinks with local officials. Those who are truly satisfied with martial arts alone do not care about the imperial court's opinion. They are usually called the 'Thirteen Heavens,' or they roam the Jianghu alone. Otherwise, they are cooped up in the mountains like the Nine Sects."
"...What is it that you wish to say?"
"As an old man who has seen all walks of life over many years, my advice to you is this: from this moment on, more than ninety percent of those who come seeking you will harbor a sword in their hearts. Whether that blade is pointed at you, or whether it gleams to exploit the common folk, is for you to judge."
Hearing those words, Yeon-shin suddenly realized something.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress, who was outside.
She must have known he had awakened, yet she had not sent word. It was as if she was telling him he could sleep more. What was the reason?
In an instant, the focus in Yeon-shin's eyes blurred.
"Ah..."
Baek Mi-ryeo and the Seventh Apostle were gone.
* * *
"Out of the way."
A low voice drifted from the front of a group, all mounted on sturdy steeds. The brief command made the air hum.
A wave of qi, born of immensely powerful internal energy, rippled translucently through the air.
Clack, clack.
The elegant sound of hooves echoed.
"..."
The crowd filling the marketplace of Hangzhou parted like the sea.
A deathly silence permeated the surroundings.
Clad in ceremonial robes and martial uniforms of various colors—red, blue, green—they slowly rode their horses through the center, soon reaching the hill where the Mok Manor stood.
Shortly after, a rider, balancing skillfully on his steed with adept movement techniques, raised a long flagpole.
Flutter.
A banner bearing the characters for "Honghwang."
In the silence, a fierce wind whipped against the fabric of the banner.
All around, the number of people gasping or staring in shock rapidly multiplied. Prince Honghwang. He was one of the imperial Ju clan members whom the Emperor had personally enfeoffed with land, granting him the title of King.
He had amassed a force comparable to a major sect, governing the security of his assigned region with countless experts under his command. The Central Plains were just that vast.
And they were not the only ones.
Crowds approached from all directions, as if surrounding the Mok Manor.
Eight groups from eight different directions moved in slowly. All of them were mixed crowds of men and women.
"He is indeed here, correct?"
"Consider the number of secret lines we mobilized. It makes no sense for him to be anywhere else."
Despite the year of famine, their faces gleamed with prosperity. Every single one of them possessed a well-developed physique draped in smooth silk garments.
As each group possessed a powerful qi wave, they emitted waves of internal power that oppressed the commoners nearby.
In fact, in some of the marketplace alleys, several people were struggling to breathe, barely able to squeeze out raspy gasps.
Whoosh—
Each of the eight groups consisted of at least a hundred people. Due to the sheer scale, the surrounding scenery shifted rapidly. In an instant, it took on the solemn air of a battlefield.
There were three forces of feudatory kings, including the household of Prince Honghwang.
The martial arts army of the Assistant Military Commander, a rank equivalent to the senior first rank in the Five Military Commissions.
The Great Merchant Guild, formed through alliances of various wealthy merchants, which currently controlled the flow of goods during this famine.
The entourage of the Grand Coordinator of Zhejiang Province.
The experts of the Four Provinces Martial Arts Alliance, recently formed by the alliance of sects from Zhejiang, Jiangxi, Fujian, and Guangdong.
And the imperial envoy who had traveled down from Beijing.
They arrived all at once, as if they had picked the date together. In truth, they had made a secret agreement beforehand.
A Purple Rank.
A peerless master who could hold the life and death of another in their hands just by sitting across from them. Above them, only the Emperor and the Lord of the Desolate Fortress existed.
On their way to make demands of someone who could exert martial force even over government officials, no faction would dare move alone. It was only right to gather together, if only for minimal protection.
This was why they kept their guard up even as they conversed in hushed tones.
"By the way, I wonder where the Lord of the Desolate Fortress has vanished to. I thought she would head to the Northern Region, but she didn't, and she didn't even show herself when the Flood Dragon manifested here in Hangzhou..."
"There is a reason why even secret lines struggle to track her whereabouts. From what I heard in Beijing, she is fighting hard elsewhere."
Before they knew it, all sounds of hooves had ceased.
Many among the eight groups remained on their steeds, staring down at the Mok Manor.
It was due to tension. Countless telepathic transmissions flew back and forth between them.
— There was a massive battle. The Divine Doctor never administers medical aid to those who have accumulated internal energy. The new Purple Rank's body must be extremely exhausted.
— It is said he formed ties with the experts of the Nine Sects at the Mount Hua Agreement martial arts tournament. Since the Lord of Heaven's Bane decapitated the Ancient Sword of the Wudang Sect, it would be wise to focus on praising his achievement in defeating the First Sword of the Outer Paths.
— We must not appear too easy, either. Our words must carry weight to pique the interest of someone like Jeong Yeon-shin.
— While it is only right to elevate Lord Jeong, if we bow to his subordinates as well, our proposal will look ridiculous. Let us act as we normally do.
— Leader! Please, do not make a slip of the tongue!
— Do not worry. Many are misled by his lineage and mistakenly believe Jeong Yeon-shin's temperament is violent, but as long as you do not provoke him first, there is no one as gentle as him. Hasn't his childhood already been brought to light? The villagers of Xinye County used to call him a child like a calf.
A world facing upheaval due to the Emperor's death. The eight groups inevitably gathered here now were proof of these turbulent times.
They were entangled in highly complex relationships.
The various princely households, including Prince Honghwang's forces, had come to secure confirmation of the Desolate Fortress's non-interference in governing their lands.
Meanwhile, the Assistant Military Commander intended to request reinforcements for the earth-shattering battle taking place in the Northern Region.
The Grand Coordinator of Zhejiang Province aimed to commend Jeong Yeon-shin for the recent events in Hangzhou and send him off without incident.
Having previously cooperated with Taemo Mountain Fortress and Heaven's Bane, he had a guilty conscience.
Very few had come with pure intentions after hearing the various rumors. In truth, it was safe to say only the Four Provinces Martial Arts Alliance fell into that category.
Even the Great Merchant Guild sought to borrow martial force from the Desolate Fortress.
When it came to transporting vast amounts of goods, there was still no character that guaranteed safety as much as the character Hwang (荒), meaning "Desolate."
"Since many distinguished guests are waiting, I shall speak directly," said the leader of the Gwanheo Merchant Guild, leaping down from his steed.
He was an elderly man of impressive build, deeply versed in both calculation and martial arts.
"The imperial court's support for the Desolate Fortress may be cut off, if only temporarily. However, our Gwanheo Merchant Guild can make Xiangyang even wealthier. Please send word to your Purple Rank."
The guild leader spoke, looking down at Ak Su-rim.
Although he was a man who held the purse strings of the world, his status was the lowest among the eight groups. Naturally, he tacitly took on the role of the one to test the waters first.
After all, there was no way the grandson of the Hegemon Hero would be lenient to others from the very start.
However, the guild leader thought otherwise.
The rumors about the Wilderness Sunfall are somewhat exaggerated. In reality, he is closer to a gentleman than any Purple Rank in history, a man who can at least be reasoned with.
If one closely examined Jeong Yeon-shin's track record, they would have no choice but to think so.
The Gwanheo Merchant Guild.
They were people who would risk their lives for a single silver coin. In terms of the precision of their intelligence, they were second to none, not even to the Beggar Sect or the Hao Sect.
That was why, at this moment, he could prepare to ask to use the Desolate Fortress's martial force for private gain.
"...Who are you people?"
Ak Su-rim, the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress, stared up at him blankly. She had not shown any particular courtesy, even in the presence of the various imperial banners.
The frosty wind blowing in gusts listlessly lifted her black hair, which fell to the nape of her neck.
The guild leader clicked his tongue inwardly.
To think she cannot read the situation so completely.
Even the Wilderness Sunfall himself, if he were in his right mind, would find it difficult to handle this situation alone.
The problem was the influence of these eight groups, which spanned the entire world.
If one were to combine the sheer weight of the figures gathered here, even the greatest sect would have to tuck its tail. Martial power was a secondary issue.
The peerless master Jeong Yeon-shin was one of the freest existences in the world, but his status as a Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress was by no means so.
How would he untangle such a massive web of interests?
Any sensible person would have to stay awake for seven days and nights to figure it out.
"We have no business with the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. I believe the same goes for everyone else here."
Whoosh!
In an instant, a dense wave of qi spread from several of the groups.
It was an intentional reminder of their presence. The pressure was so pronounced that it even kicked up a faint haze of dust.
The forces spanning the world pressed down on the skin of Ak Su-rim, as well as Heonwon Chang, Shin So-bin, and Jin Mu of the Qingcheng Sect, who had arrived nearby.
"We have matters to discuss on equal terms with the Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress," the Gwanheo guild leader said quietly.
* * *
It was the inner courtyard of the Mok Manor.
Maggots.
The young man, with his back to the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, muttered inwardly. He was crouching casually on the edge of the gently sloping roof of the main quarters.
The hem of his purple robe trailed down to the bricks, mixing with the stone dust.
I am a maggot. Able to do nothing, yet having to do everything...
Rumble.
Suddenly, a monstrous wave of internal power surged from the hand gripping the Divine Sword: Lingering Thunder.