Chapter 502: The Great War of the Desolate Fortress (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 502: The Great War of the Desolate Fortress (2)
Without a doubt.
Someone was watching.
Having long since sharpened his sense of Qi through the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, Ma Se-in could never dismiss such a bizarre sensation as a mere illusion.
Even the supreme experts who had been locked in a fierce battle on the mountain path froze in their tracks.
Only the hollow howling of the wind, sweeping through the barren branches of a famine-stricken winter, echoed in the silence.
What is this...?
Yet, Ma Se-in forced himself to ignore the suffocating pressure tightening around his body and grabbed the arm of the Red-Day Sword.
Moving his body wasn't difficult. For some reason, the gaze piercing down from the unfathomable heights of the sky felt strangely familiar. There was no killing intent. At least, that was how it felt to him.
Tap!
He began to run again.
At the same time, the presence of the gaze that had swallowed the sky vanished, leaving a faint but deeply familiar intent imprinted in Ma Se-in's mind.
— I am in closed-door cultivation. I'm sorry, just hold out a little longer.
What?
He had pinpointed the location.
The final words ended there. It was unmistakably a voice transmission.
"...!"
It was an incredibly bizarre sensation.
He couldn't even begin to guess how many miles the voice had traveled. Would it feel like this if the Shaolin Abbot used the power of a rare Dharma Treasure to project the Wisdom Light Mind Speak?
As Ma Se-in resumed his sprint, his expression brightened.
He didn't mind dying here. That was the karma of a family under the Desolate Fortress, one that had lived off the state's bounty for generations.
He had no way of knowing what kind of technique the main fortress's Purple Rank was currently mastering. Whatever the circumstances, the only thing that mattered was that Jeong Yeon-shin had entered closed-door cultivation.
He had said it was closed-door cultivation. It would require a vast amount of time.
But.
That was actually for the best.
How many Lords of the Thirteen Heavens had set foot on the soil of Xiangyang today?
Jeong Yeon-shin must not come here. Setting aside the various positions he had to consider as the young master of the Desolate Ma Clan, that was Ma Se-in's personal wish. Instead, he harbored a different expectation.
If a talent closer to the greatest of all time than anyone else in history were to emerge from a long period of closed-door cultivation...
What kind of Purple Rank would the martial world face then?
There was no need to think.
The Desolate Fortress would once again become the absolute ruler over the sects of the Jianghu, and the suffering of the common people at the hands of the unorthodox and wicked factions would be drastically reduced.
This was why Ma Se-in's footwork became even swifter at this moment.
"...?"
Meanwhile, the Red-Day Sword merely kicked off the ground alongside him, looking puzzled.
The intent that had descended from the sky had been transmitted to only one person, and Ma Se-in had no time to explain right now.
"Hooh."
A low murmur of admiration swept in like the twilight. It was directed precisely at Ma Se-in.
"It seems I won't need to send a duel invitation anymore."
The voice of a middle-aged man, filled with immense curiosity, drifted down from the heavens.
A truly colossal presence.
Before anyone knew it, he had positioned himself right in the center of where the Supreme Guardian of the Martial Dragon Association and the two Unit Commanders of the Desolate Fortress were facing off. It felt as if Mount Tai had suddenly pierced through the clouds and risen before them.
Ma Se-in instinctively realized that the middle-aged man—the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association—had detected the presence of that mental intent.
It was a capability granted only to the absolute masters of internal Qi gong, those who commanded the natural Qi of heaven and earth like servants.
Raised as the successor of the Desolate Ma Clan, Ma Se-in had heard this from the Hegemon Hero Ma Yeon-jeok: among the rabble of the Jianghu who roamed the official roads as if they owned them without paying even a single grain of rice, a tiny fraction possessed a realization harmful to the world—one that allowed them to strip away the secrets of others.
The realm of eavesdropping on voice transmissions... Don't tell me he deciphered the actual content as well?
Ma Se-in kept running without looking back.
Then, he felt it with his entire body. A sudden, heavy thickening of the atmosphere. It felt as though the earth was slowly sinking into deep water.
His limbs, which had been pushing through the air effortlessly with the True Qi of the Harmonious Bloom Divine Art, rapidly grew heavy. The hard, dry ground turned muddy, swallowing the propulsion shockwaves from his soles like a swamp.
Far behind him.
Wroooom—
This was caused by a single, sudden wave of internal power released by the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association. This suppression occurred even though Ma Se-in's internal energy possessed the calm and pure nature characteristic of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art.
Suppressing an opponent's internal energy flow just by circulating his own...?!
When had he made his move? Ma Se-in couldn't properly perceive it.
He only felt the world's movements grow incredibly sluggish for a brief moment.
Rumbleeeee—!
Only belatedly did he realize that a tempest had swept far over his head with a deafening roar.
[Supreme Guardian, now is not the time to play with these brats. The time has come, so follow me! Now, let us go and crush the Desolate Fortress!]
The booming laughter of the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association whipped up a gale in all directions.
A suffocating wind pressure tore through the thick dust.
With sharp cracking sounds, multiple fissures split the ground, racing wildly along the mountain path. It was the aftermath of his Void Stepping.
Swoooooosh—!
The shadow of Hyeokryeon Pung-wol, the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association, shot through the sky like a comet toward the Desolate Fortress and vanished.
[How sturdy! You must be the ones from the Divine Sword Corps who specialize in defensive forms!]
Before anyone knew it, the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit and the Master of the Martial Apex Hall had their heads gripped in his broad hands, hurtling through the gale.
The repulsive force generated by the two commanders' profound Body Protection Qi ground against the wind, bursting into a stream of orange sparks.
They were Black Ranks.
Even after suffering a critical blow from the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association, their heads did not burst instantly.
On the contrary, a bluish sword Qi surged endlessly from the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit's precious sword, grinding against Hyeokryeon Pung-wol's shoulder. Meanwhile, the Master of the Martial Apex Hall's pitch-black prosthetic leg repeatedly slammed into Hyeokryeon Pung-wol's cheek, unleashing massive shockwaves.
Yet, the Body Protection Qi enveloping him remained as unbreakable as diamond, only erupting with thunderous booms.
[Excellent! Let's keep going like this!]
While Hyeokryeon Pung-wol's hearty shout echoed and dispersed...
"Brats of the Desolate Fortress, do not die, for I shall come to inspect the dynamic art you have cultivated one day."
Laughing loudly, the Supreme Guardian of the Martial Dragon Association, the Heaven-Scorching Elder, soared into the air with his hands behind his back. He lightly tapped a slender branch and shot through the atmosphere like an arrow, following close behind.
"Exactly south. For the Desolate Fortress, that would be the main gate... Our Martial Dragon Association will rule that battlefield."
Hwayeonbi blocked Ma Se-in's path with a relaxed posture.
Rustle.
A light step onto the ground.
She was accompanied by the man in white she had brought along earlier. Perhaps due to the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association's command, no particular hostility could be felt from either of them. To them, Hyeokryeon Pung-wol's word was absolute providence.
"The Martial Dragon Association rules the battlefield?" Ma Se-in quietly asked.
At the same time, he and the Red-Day Sword assumed a joint attack starting stance. Standing three paces apart, they raised their swords in a mid-level guard, aiming at the chests of Hwayeonbi and the man in white.
Hwayeonbi immediately offered a bright smile.
"Countless like-minded individuals have deeply studied numerous martial arts, teaching and learning from one another. The martial artists of our association participating in this Great Sect War cannot help but be stronger than any other experts. The upper dantians of the Martial Dragon Association's experts will flexibly and instantly adapt to any variable, countering the opponent's moves."
"That..."
Ma Se-in did not smile. He merely continued in a blunt tone.
"Sounds strangely familiar."
"Pardon?"
"Is that what you trained? No, I suppose it's more accurate to say it happened naturally due to the Martial Dragon Association's ethos. Not born with it, but acquired."
At his words, Hwayeonbi tilted her head slightly.
His tone was strange enough to make her wonder, but she didn't press further. She simply spoke, a smile still playing on her lips.
"Young Master Ma is correct. Furthermore, this Great Sect War is a feast where we can witness and absorb many of your Desolate Fortress's martial arts in one place. That is why our association accepted Lingering Spirit's proposal for a joint attack. Right now, you have very few experts capable of handling even our Supreme Guardian, let alone our Lord."
"You just want to rob the commoners of their livelihoods more freely during this famine. And you're taking advantage of these chaotic times to destroy our main fortress beforehand because we stand in your way."
"By doing so, we leave a grand footprint on all creation through the martial apex. It is the most noble challenge in the world. Though, of course, the bandits, pirates, and swindlers who came here seem only interested in this land of Xiangyang."
She dismissed all the great sects allied with the Martial Dragon Association in one fell swoop. It was likely because their pursuits differed greatly.
Indeed, the Thirteen Heavens of the Wicked Way consisted only of factions that could never truly become close. Yet, the scheme for the 'War of Annihilation at the Desolate Fortress'—which the Thirteen Heavens Yeoryeong Lord must have spent a long time crafting—had somehow cast an invisible dark cloud over Xiangyang.
It was more malicious and meticulous than any Unified Martial Transcendence.
"Madwoman," the Red-Day Sword sneered. "Just a bunch of parasites making excuses."
At his words, Ma Se-in tapped the ground with the toe of his foot and spoke. He was preparing his footwork.
"First, we must check on the main fortress. We'll have to keep shaking these two off... Will that be possible?"
Ma Se-in felt a heavy weight of responsibility. He was the only one who knew that Jeong Yeon-shin had entered closed-door cultivation.
He had to convey this to the main fortress, which would be waiting for the youngest Purple Rank in history. He had to ensure that the fortress's martial artists, who would soon face death in scattered battles, would carry honor rather than futile hope.
At that moment, Hwayeonbi chimed in with amusement.
"Will that even be possible? The Flash Art Lineage is exceptionally strong in a single strike, but it consumes too much energy, making it vulnerable in a prolonged fight. Its forms are too refined to be called unorthodox, yet too violent to be called orthodox... To overcome this, one must master the Vast Art Formula to boost each other's Qi waves in group combat. But isn't that a martial art only the Demonlight Wing can cultivate? Not many in this vast land have ever seen it."
She was bringing up a weakness already known to the entire world. The response came from the Red-Day Sword.
"You talk too much."
"The Martial Dragon Association is a sect of records. We store a vast amount of knowledge in our minds and manifest it through our bodies."
"Then tell me this."
Suddenly, a faint wave of light began to shimmer on the blade of the middle-aged Blue Rank expert, and his legs whipped up a harsh wind as if he were about to sprint toward the Desolate Fortress immediately. The Red-Day Sword slowly finished his sentence.
"Which martial artist has ever survived long enough to drag the Flash Art Lineage into a prolonged fight?"
"..."
Hwayeonbi could not answer immediately.
*
High in the sky, overlooking the vast walls of pure white marble.
"Lord, look over there. It has already begun."
An elderly voice blended into the raging tempest. It was the voice of the Heaven-Scorching Elder, who followed leisurely behind the Lord of the Martial Dragon Association with his hands behind his back.
Hyeokryeon Pung-wol, who was hurtling through the sky while gripping the heads of the two Divine Sword Corps Black Ranks in his massive hands, burst into a booming laugh.
"What a magnificent sight!"
The main gate of the Desolate Fortress.
Already, it had become a battlefield for the highest-rising stars of the Jianghu.
Clang! Crash! Boom!
All kinds of shockwaves crushed the air, erupting with recoils more violent than Thunderbolt Bombs.
While shattered fragments of marble scattered in all directions, experts of the Thirteen Heavens were scaling the walls vertically.
From above, arrows of archery martial arts, palm winds, and fist shockwaves rained down like thunder. They clashed against the enemies' hands, causing the very ground to shudder violently with heavy thuds.
No emotion could be detected in the moves of the Desolate Fortress's martial artists. Every single strike was a lethal blow.
It was as if they were extending their forms toward rotten branches that simply needed to be pruned. Their facial muscles moved only when a battle cry was required.
"..."
There were no other sounds. Only deafening roars filled the air.
Thud! Boom! Clang!
A Great Sect War of the world's greatest experts.
Despite its war-like scale, not a single person discussed the battle situation aloud for the enemy to hear. Composed entirely of experts utilizing voice transmissions, the battlefield was fiercely violent yet wrapped in eerie silence.
In the midst of this, an expert from the Thirteen Heavens' Martial Dragon Association finally scaled the wall. At that exact moment, a flurry of razor-sharp winds, pouring down like threads from all directions, silently tore his body to pieces.
Squelch.
Stepping onto the ground slick with blood, the swordsmen of the Azure Sky Unit moved to other positions, simultaneously unleashing the internal power waves of the Great Heavenly Cycle.
Soon after, about twenty giant martial artists naturally filled the vacant space. They were the Blue and White Ranks of the Divine Sword Corps' Forest-Treading Unit.
"Lord, what did you decide to do with the other ringleaders?" the Heaven-Scorching Elder, who had been staring down at the scene, asked abruptly.
However, Hyeokryeon Pung-wol was already plunging into the distance with the two Unit Commanders dangling from his sides. It was a descent accompanied by booming laughter.
The grandmaster of the Great Sun Void-Pulling Qi—a divine art unprecedented in the world—was just that free.
The Heaven-Scorching Elder shook his head.
"Let's see..." he muttered while stepping on the air, sensing the vast battlefield through his Qi perception.
Already, all four sides of the Desolate Fortress had turned into profound battlefields.
To the south, where the main gate was located, the Martial Dragon Association, its subordinate sects, and first-rate rogue cultivators hired by Lingering Spirit were deployed.
The north is the area containing the Lord of the Desolate Fortress's residence. We decided not to enter because the formations are too strict...
The western wall had long since been completely blown away by a single punch from the Lord of the Myriad Phenomena Water Channel Fortress, Tidal Fist Heaven.
He was a peerless expert who had kept a low profile for a very long time before suddenly seizing control of the nation's waterways. At this moment, the midwinter sky, which had been pouring down cool, transparent sunlight, distorted as if it were midsummer. It was undoubtedly due to the Qi of Tidal Fist Heaven, who was said to hold the scorching sun in his grasp.
Conversely, the east was strangely quiet. This was the direction the Lord of the Dreaming Mortal Moon was supposed to enter, yet it seemed as if no battle was taking place at all.
"Monsters, the lot of them."
Whoosh!
Muttering his brief thoughts, the Heaven-Scorching Elder's figure suddenly began to descend.
The Desolate Fortress would not end here.
Even now, the supreme experts of the Martial Dragon Association, Lingering Spirit, and the Dreaming Mortal Moon were clashing with the Unit Commanders all over the Desolate Fortress.
Some of them were being pushed back significantly for a wide variety of reasons—ranging from differences in raw martial prowess to mechanism formations and sword formations that defied imagination.
They might suffer massive casualties if caught off guard.
The Heaven-Scorching Elder was tasked with capturing the main gate. His job was to bring down the Desolate Fortress's plaque. He needed to exert greater influence than the self-serving leaders of the various factions.
He had to ensure that the horde of men and horses currently charging toward the main gate like a landslide, kicking up clouds of dust behind them, could breach the main fortress in a single sweep.
The Horde of Demons Green Forest arrived on time, but...
The Heaven-Scorching Elder's gaze shifted to the center of the main gate.
A single person stood there.
"..."
A figure staring at the Horde of Demons Green Forest with a silver spear planted in the ground. The hem of her black robe fluttered incessantly in the gale, revealing a surface faded to a subtle gray.
Her build was incredibly small compared to the sheer scale of the battlefield, and her short-cropped hair was practically unconventional. The Desolate Fortress's Greatest Black Rank stood ready to face the mounted martial arts of the great sect known as the Horde of Demons Green Forest all by herself.
Wrooom! Wrooom!
The shockwaves accumulated in her spear shaft were so dense that circular ripples of dust constantly spread outward from her feet.
Thud!
Landing with a crack that fractured the ground, the Heaven-Scorching Elder blocked Ak Su-rim's path. Her pitch-black eyes reflected the Supreme Guardian of the Martial Dragon Association.
"Ak Su-rim, do you intend to die in vain? Do not block the path needlessly. They must reach the Lord of the Desolate Fortress's residence, and I fear you might slow them down even a little."
"Bring it," she said.
The Heaven-Scorching Elder gave up immediately. With his decades of experience in the Jianghu, he read Ak Su-rim's resolve.
There was no need for further words. He had to clear her out of the way beforehand.
"A coward of the ages, who kicked away the noble family she was meant to inherit and fled from her main house into the embrace of the imperial family."
Rumbleeeee—!!
Behind him, the dust cloud charging toward the battlefield began to expand rapidly. The Horde of Demons Green Forest, which had already slaughtered several powerful martial clans, was on the verge of arrival.
The earthquake-like rumbling grew louder along with the deafening roar, and before long, a thick fog of soil began to envelop all directions. It was the precursor to the arrival of the Horde of Demons Green Forest.
Soon, a natural disaster wrought of martial arts would arrive.
"Ak Su-rim."
A colorless, swirling palm force gathered in the Heaven-Scorching Elder's hand.
A terrifying, concentrated wave of internal power erupted from the old man, possessing such overwhelming density that it pierced straight through the deafening, consecutive explosions of the charging mounted army. The sheer, oppressive force of this martial aura violently whipped the Heaven-Scorching Elder’s yellow robes into the air, the heavy fabric snapping and billowing around his frame like a storm-torn banner. His killing intent was palpable, radiating with the absolute, unshakable confidence of a seasoned master who had survived countless bloodbaths. In his calculating mind, a single, decisive strike of his gathered palm force would be more than enough to completely shatter her defenses and violently push her back into the encroaching dust of the battlefield.
Directly across from him, Ak Su-rim remained entirely unfazed by the crushing weight bearing down upon her shoulders. Her grip tightened with lethal purpose. With a fluid, practiced motion, she was already pulling the long shaft of her heavy spear free from the deeply cracked earth, the dry soil crumbling away as the weapon rose steadily to meet the imminent threat.
"This is the Jianghu," the Heaven-Scorching Elder declared, his voice cutting through the surrounding chaos with a chilling, arrogant authority. It was a statement of absolute truth in his eyes—a harsh, final reminder of the ruthless, unforgiving nature of the martial world, where the strong devoured the weak without a single second thought.
It happened in the very next fraction of a second. It was right after he had spat out those brief, condescending words, right in the fragile, fleeting span of a single, drawn-out breath as he prepared to unleash his devastating martial art upon her.
Suddenly, without a single warning tremor or shift in the air, a faint, almost ethereal white line was flawlessly etched across the Heaven-Scorching Elder's neck. There was no blinding flash of steel, no roaring shockwave of displaced wind, and no desperate clash of weapons to signal the attack. It was simply there—a perfectly straight, hair-thin boundary of pure, concentrated lethal intent that materialized far faster than the human eye could possibly track or comprehend.
Along that pristine, glowing white boundary, the very fabric of space itself seemed to seamlessly split open. The sheer, terrifying perfection of the unseen strike defied all worldly logic, effortlessly separating flesh and bone, pushing his severed head and his suddenly paralyzed torso apart. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand completely still as the impossible reality of the fatal wound finally took hold.
Thud.
The old man's severed head fell dismally to the ruined earth, a pathetic, abrupt end for a profound master who had stood at the absolute pinnacle of confidence just a heartbeat prior. Yet, it did not even have the chance to roll across the dirt. Before the battlefield dust could even begin to settle around his lifeless, frozen features, a heavy leather shoe stepped down with ruthless, unforgiving force. The elder's head was crushed mercilessly under the heel, bursting instantly into a gruesome, visceral spray of crimson and shattered bone, leaving nothing behind but the brutal, unyielding reality of the martial world he had just preached about.