Chapter 499: The Martial World (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 499: The Martial World (2)
A desolate plain.
The winter sun was as short-lived as a martial artist’s life.
The brilliantly spreading sunset was suddenly swallowed by the distant horizon. As the sunlight vanished without a trace, the night sky crept in to dye the land black. Beneath it, the breaths of four people rose in white plumes, the air freezing around them.
A long yet short time passed.
Where the Blood Flame Cult Leader had stood, only blackened, scorched earth remained, stained with patches of white frost. Not even a fragment of his corpse could be found.
This was the result of being struck in succession by the Samadhi True Fire and Ice Arts of peak masters. Hahu Wi-jin, Un So-yu, and Cheon So-so had unleashed their techniques without restraint. The Divine Sword Corps of the Desolate Fortress never left loose ends.
They had fought a great battle and were no longer in peak condition.
"With this…" Cheon So-so began.
Hahu Wi-jin cut her off. "No Blood Ghost could possibly regenerate from that. We froze every last drop of his blood with our divine arts, shattered it, and then melted it all down again. He may have inherited the legacy of his predecessor, but he wasn't the original Blood Flame Cult Leader. There’s nothing more to worry about."
"…True," Cheon So-so replied curtly, turning her head.
Slightly apart from the three of them, Jin Myeong-jo stood tall. He was the man who would one day assist the Flash Art. It was said that the Acting Commander of the Divine Sword Corps had personally appointed him.
The kitchen in the Divine Sword Squad’s pavilion, where the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress resided, had recently been rendered unusable. Cheon So-so, for one, wished Ak Su-rim could keep her position. At the very least, Jin Myeong-jo was not the one who should be left behind to manage things.
"Let's go. It's urgent," she said, her haste justified.
Recently, the atmosphere around Xiangyang had become highly unusual. With the Emperor's death and the ensuing famine, the supply of goods had been cut off. No merchant group was willing to open its storehouses. Even the government officials who served as the eyes and ears of the Desolate Fortress had reportedly gone quiet.
A massive undercurrent was stirring. Anyone could feel it.
The world was holding its breath. The Unit Commanders needed to tend to their wounds and return quickly. There were even rumors that the elusive Yeoryeong Lord was plotting a ‘grand scheme to defy heaven.’ If true, calling the Desolate Fortress’s position precarious would be an understatement.
However, the next Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps paid little mind to his comrades' injuries. Instead, he simply stared into the distance with eyes like pools of coagulated, turbid blood.
"…"
The Seventh Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult was there.
She sat languidly in a red grandmaster's chair, the very one who had single-handedly unsealed the acupoints of the now-deceased Blood Flame Cult Leader. It was a fitting history for someone who now called herself the True Blood Cult Leader. A few strands of hair fell over the back of her hand as she rested her slender chin upon it, exuding the easy composure of a peerless master.
"Strange," her lips moved slowly. Her single, transparent red eye squinted at Jin Myeong-jo, a glance that treated him as something less than an insect. "You, mongrel blood. How did you find me?"
Jin Myeong-jo, who had been staring blankly at her, spoke slowly. "I am Jin Myeong-jo, Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit. Did the Fortress Lord not bestow a fragment of the Moon Spirit Divine Technique upon you? That supreme Yin energy. We tracked that familiar presence."
"...Your sense of Qi is quite impressive. Fine. Now get lost," she said, crossing her legs in the wide chair, looking ready to begin her Qi meditation. Yet, Jin Myeong-jo did not budge.
The Seventh Apostle’s pale eyelids fluttered open. "Are you trying to act as my Dharma protector? If you don't disappear right now, you'll regret it. I'll start by gouging out those eyeballs of yours," she threatened, her voice smooth as silk.
Jin Myeong-jo shook his head. "If we part ways here, you are the one who will regret it."
Whoosh!
In an instant, the dust on the Seventh Apostle's pitch-black eyepatch scattered as if by magic. Her single blood-red eye gleamed with a colorless light. Her slender ankles, faintly visible beneath her red trousers, began to emit the irregular waves of Qi characteristic of the Blood Flame Cult Body Protection Scripture.
It was the prelude to an attack. Despite her severe internal injuries, she still radiated transcendent power.
Meanwhile, the Brightfolk Unit Commanders watched the confrontation from a slight distance. While Cheon So-so and Un So-yu stood ready to intervene with expressionless faces, Hahu Wi-jin furrowed his brow.
"This is an impossible mission," he grumbled in a deep voice, seeking his comrades' agreement. "How are we supposed to persuade someone like her to come to the fortress? Even if she visited as a guest before, it makes no sense. She's basically another Blood Flame Cult Leader now, isn't she? A walking natural disaster. So what if she hasn't raided civilian homes and has only been smashing Blood Flame Cult branches? Do you really think we can reason with that madness?"
At that moment, Un So-yu, Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, adjusted her grip on her sword. The soft sound of leather rubbing against the hilt filled the air as she spoke. "If the persuasion fails and Commander Jin Myeong-jo is severely injured, there's no telling how the Acting Commander might react. With his personality, the laws of the fortress might be thrown into utter chaos long before Xiangyang faces its great crisis."
It was an unusually long speech for her. Hahu Wi-jin nodded heavily. "A textbook case of internal troubles and external threats. I don't know if risking a clash with her is worth it right now. Since we're short-handed, we should at least get that gloomy Bloodkeeper bastard back in one piece…"
Boom!
The surrounding air fluctuated violently. The Seventh Apostle had unleashed a translucent wave of Qi toward Jin Myeong-jo. Clearly, the conversation had not gone smoothly. Jin Myeong-jo merely endured the razor-sharp wind in silence, his pitch-black hair whipping wildly behind him.
Hahu Wi-jin immediately lowered his stance and vented his frustration. "I don't get it! Why on earth does the Acting Commander value that guy above everyone else in the fortress?! I still don't know if appointing him as the Vice Commander was the right choice!"
"It's not about valuation. He said it was respect," Cheon So-so corrected, shaking her head. A hazy, whitish frost was already swirling between her fingers. "Even down to his temperament, he is the one the Flash Art wishes to resemble most…"
Whoosh.
Suddenly, her words cut off. The violent Blood Art Qi that had been scraping the ground vanished without a trace.
"Let's go. You said Xiangyang?" the Seventh Apostle declared, already taking the lead.
When had she even stepped down from the chair? Her bright red Pure Blood Robe fluttered smoothly behind her with a soft rustle. The Graceful Body Technique of the Blood Flame Cult was indeed one of the finest movement techniques in the Jianghu.
"Myeong-jo? You breathe very elegantly. I can't feel any waves of Qi in your breath. I'll learn a bit from you," the Seventh Apostle commented.
Bringing her in as a purple-ranked guest of the main fortress—the task assigned by the Acting Commander of the Divine Sword Corps—had been accomplished. In this chaotic era, it was, in the words of the Grand Steward, the heaviest and most crucial mission of all.
While the Brightfolk Unit Commanders remained silent, the Seventh Apostle's soft voice continued. "If you're the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Squad, does that mean you'll be sticking right by the Commander? You've achieved the greatest success among our cult's clans. Mongrel blood? Nonsense. You're better than any of the past cult leaders."
"…"
Jin Myeong-jo's face hardened like a sculpture. With a flick of his hand, a scroll shot from his breast pocket and landed squarely in Cheon So-so's grasp.
Thud.
Stepping up beside her, Hahu Wi-jin looked down at the scroll. It was a letter. On its surface, the words ‘To Lord Jeong, Personal Delivery’ were inscribed with the grand flourish of a dragon's body.
"Why is this letter so thick?" he asked.
Jin Myeong-jo replied briefly, "That will reduce my role a bit."
"I knew it. Just like a bat, neglecting your duties already… What is this letter anyway?"
"The Magic Sword mnemonic."
The Invisible Sword. It was the desperate measure of a cornered Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit. Sincerity was hard to convey through words alone. So, along with a letter earnestly requesting his resignation, he had included a priceless treasure. If it were Jeong Yeon-shin, surely he could create his own Invisible Sword from the mnemonic, no matter how long it took.
"Since my swallow has gone on another errand, please have Unit Commander Cheon deliver it to the Acting Commander."
"…"
Overwhelming boldness. The Brightfolk Unit Commanders didn't know the exact contents of the letter, but they were now beginning to vaguely understand Jeong Yeon-shin's decision.
Finally, Hahu Wi-jin's mouth was firmly shut.
Step.
Jin Myeong-jo took a step forward, his face as cold as a corpse. Return to Simplicity. Beneath his feet, which carried no aura whatsoever, the dust of the wilderness swirled slightly before dispersing like smoke. From the spot where the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s body had been obliterated, a sudden whirlwind arose and was sucked into the Bloodkeeper Commander's black leather boots.
He was, without a doubt, the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
* * *
For the first time in a long while, the city of the noble clans was bustling. Where thick tree trunks rose like castle walls, long-eared children sat kicking their feet. The cheeks of the experts standing guard on the trees curved into rare, smooth smiles.
This was the heart of the World Tree. These were not people who would act so warmly even when the Ju imperial family came to deliver supplies. Now, they all occasionally whispered a single name.
"It is merely a temporary measure."
Inside the ruined pavilion of the Clan Elder Council, Jeong Yeon-shin did not lower his guard even after speaking. The power gathered here was immense. The Four Great Protectors of the World Tree. Though he had only met three, each was incredibly powerful. If this city were to turn hostile, surviving would be no easy feat.
No, I would definitely die, he thought.
The three people sitting around him came into view: Sword Duke Yongji, Master Golden Thunder, and the Heaven-Piercing Bow Spirit. Each had mastered vastly different martial arts over an immeasurable stretch of time. Who could withstand the combined attack of three peerless masters? It was a situation that would require the Lord of the Desolate Fortress herself.
"Is the tea not to your liking?" a woman's voice came from behind him.
The First Elder of the clan was hovering around the tea table, having dismissed her subordinates. She was busy with tasks like handing over wrapping cloths and reheating the tea. She had personally set the leg that Jeong Yeon-shin had broken earlier, using the powerful True Qi within her body as a splint to secure the bone. Even though her own torn acupoints must have been causing immense pain, she did not rest.
And Jeong Yeon-shin had heard many stories. It was hard to believe, but they were no longer withholding information. The secrets regarding the Lord of the Desolate Fortress were a prime example. They said that whenever her travels grew long, as they were now, she would always come here, stay for a long time, and then set out for the main fortress. This visit was no different.
He could not, however, hear the reason. Sword Duke Yongji had stopped Master Golden Thunder just as he was about to excitedly tell him everything. Jeong Yeon-shin didn't pry further. It was a story best heard from the Lord of the Desolate Fortress herself when she was ready.
He spoke slowly. "When is Master coming?"
"She should be done by now," Master Golden Thunder replied. "Normally, after she comes back from the outside, she takes a long time to wash up. Qi meditation, a bath… If she brings back turbid energy, she can't achieve Unity with the World Tree."
He tilted his head. "But it wasn't usually this long, was it? Didn't Geonreung die the year before last? How many years has it been? He’s going to get bloated. Let's go find him."
No one moved. Perhaps they had grown immune to Master Golden Thunder's nonsense.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at him blankly. Two years after the death of Emperor Geonreung was more than enough time for a proper burial. If there was nothing to be done about one's innate lifespan, then that was simply fate.
Just as his mood began to sink, Sword Duke Yongji spoke. "That power. Did you call it the Law-Transcending Halo Qi?"
"Yes."
"A temporary measure?"
"The energy is consumed quickly, and the suction of the World Tree is as deep as an abyss. Unless I remain in this city continuously, it will quickly return to its starved state."
"…"
"It was something that could not be resolved by human strength alone. Master must have known this as well," Jeong Yeon-shin concluded quietly.
Inwardly, he was worried. At a time when the entire world was in turmoil, he had hoped to obtain at least a little help from this clan. A letter from the Chief Steward's Office had mentioned the movements of the Thirteen Heavens, noting that they were on an incredibly massive scale.
If only two of the Four Great Protectors could watch over Xiangyang, even for a short while…
It would ease his worries about the main fortress considerably.
But the ways of the world were never so simple. Just then, the expression of the First Elder, who was pouring tea, hardened. "If it is a temporary measure, for how long…?"
"It will be difficult to last more than three days. After that, I must inject True Qi again."
"…"
"Even that cannot be considered a fundamental solution. There is a specific energy the World Tree requires to function, and my actions are merely akin to artificially inducing a feeling of fullness…" Jeong Yeon-shin stated the facts plainly.
Even if the Four Great Protectors could step away for a brief moment, it didn't mean the clan was free. Aside from the distance to Xiangyang, it was hard to say the Brightfolk were truly liberated. It was not something a human could accomplish.
For the first time, Jeong Yeon-shin felt he had hit a wall. A solution would only emerge if figures who vied for the title of the greatest of all time—like Bodhidharma, Zhang Sanfeng, and the First Heavenly Demon—gathered for a discussion.
"My word…" The First Elder set down her teacup. Sword Duke Yongji nodded silently, and the Heaven-Piercing Bow Spirit stared at Jeong Yeon-shin with an unreadable expression.
Only Master Golden Thunder was gleeful. "Why? I like having a breather. I should go dry some mulberry leaves while I'm at it. Want a leaf? In the past, Geonreung lit them on fire and inhaled the smoke, and it was just…"
"Yes, we had a breather. For that alone, we are truly grateful. No one in our clan must act ungratefully," the First Elder’s voice was firm, like someone forcing themselves awake from a pleasant dream.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly lowered his eyes. Perhaps because the years he had spent at the Jeong Family Manor were far longer, it was not difficult for him to let go of his expectations. If talent alone could solve everything, his journey through the Jianghu would not have been stained with so much loss.
Whatever Master's purpose was, I must go to Xiangyang alone…
Just then.
Tap.
A soft hand touched the back of his neck. An incredibly warm sensation. A thousand feelings washed over him at once, like a dream. The fine hairs on his neck were gently pressed down. His sense of time was crushed and flattened like a thick blanket, while a gentle breeze like dandelion petals swept down his entire body from the nape of his neck.
Even without turning, he knew.
It was the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
Jeong Yeon-shin could not bring himself to speak. He didn't want to.
"Flash Art."
A resonant voice pierced his ears and slowly dispersed. Out of the corner of his eye, a gold bracelet caught his attention. It must have been brought by his master. A crooked leaf pattern, as if carved by a child, was melting into the air.
In an instant, Jeong Yeon-shin's vision shifted.
Whoosh!
The sound echoed only in his head.
Unity.
He found himself looking down at the back of a young man clad in a purple robe. It was just like when he had consumed a fragment of the World Tree. At this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was staring at himself through the body of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, all while receiving the utterly astonished gazes of those around them.
A feeling of being submerged in an abyss. His senses had changed.
What is that…?
Through the eyes of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, Jeong Yeon-shin discovered something inside his own body. Deep within his heart, a speck of light shone in the shape of the Songmun Ancient Sword of the Wudang Sect. The distinct metallic scent of a blade drifted to the tip of his nose. He perceived it with absolute clarity.
It was the Taoist Three Pure Powers left behind by the Dark Sky Emperor.
Soon after, the Lord of the Desolate Fortress straightened from where she had been leaning toward him.
Whoosh.
A razor-sharp wind, generated as it brushed past her light green, court-dress-like robes, sliced beneath the tea table. With a thud, the tabletop sank down like a platform. Naturally guiding her disciple to its center, she stood facing Jeong Yeon-shin. By then, the gold bracelet that had been melting in the air was floating like a droplet of water suspended in time.
The long fingers of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress brushed against it.
Rustle.
In an instant, her gold-stained fingertips touched Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulders.
Slowly, she began to paint over the originally dark character for 'Desolate' (荒) with shimmering gold. The incredibly soft touch of her fingers tickled his shoulders. After what felt like an eternity, the long, flowing strokes filled the space on both sides.
Before he knew it, Jeong Yeon-shin had returned to his own body.
"…"
Their eyes met.
They had overlapped their bodies and mixed their senses. No words of greeting were necessary. The deep green eyes of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress merely gazed at him quietly.
"I shall grant you two," her lips parted slowly.
"Go."
It was a send-off ceremony.