Chapter 504: The Great War of the Desolate Fortress (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 504: The Great War of the Desolate Fortress (4)
It was, quite literally, a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
Dark red blood trickled from the mounds of men and horses, which were piled up like small hills, seeping deep into the earth. The aftermath of the sound art was a scene of utter carnage.
The stench of death from the Heterodox Sects grew thick and heavy. Above them, the dry winter sun cast a pale, white sheen over the faces of the dead, making their skin look almost translucent.
Clack.
The heavy sound of hooves echoed across the silence. Having leaped over Jeong Yeon-shin and Ak Su-rim, the Leader of the Horde of Demons Green Forest, the sole survivor of the charge, turned his mount halfway around.
He tilted his head slightly, looking down at Jeong Yeon-shin from an angle.
"Where in the world is there such a rule?" Je Gang-cheon, the Great White Axe King, began to speak, his low voice carrying a subtly sly undertone. "You have no idea of the staggering time, effort, and wealth it takes to raise a cavalry of this scale. At the very least, they shouldn't have been annihilated by a single strain of music from a sword."
Indeed, the southern battlefield before the Desolate Fortress's main gate was now dead silent.
“……”
Not only were the rogue mercenaries who sold their skills for coin frozen in place, but even many of the Thirteen Heavens experts had leaped back, their horrified eyes scanning the bloody ruin of men and horses. Only a few forced themselves to move, darting about to reform their ranks.
Meanwhile, the experts on the fortress walls either caught their breath or began qi meditation where they stood. It was as if an absolute being were standing guard beside them; not a single one dared to make a reckless move.
This held true even for those who, due to their duties, had never actually seen Jeong Yeon-shin, the Flash Art.
It was trust born from his rank.
"Blind faith" was the perfect term for it, especially for those who had spent their entire lives in the Desolate Fortress. Throughout history, every Purple Rank had surpassed the expectations of the fortress’s defenders.
Shin Cheon-hwa, Ma Yeon-jeok, Shin Byeok, Yong Hee-myung.
Every one of them was a legend of the Jianghu. Just like them, he was a miracle—a sunset blooming and fading over Xiangyang.
Snort—
The warhorse of the lone surviving Leader of the Horde of Demons Green Forest snorted softly. A faint cloud of breath escaped the steed’s mouth, its body stoked with heat—whether from fear or competitive fire, none could tell. The warhorse, its eyes gleaming with a colorless light, looked past Jeong Yeon-shin at an angle.
The Leader stared quietly at Jeong Yeon-shin from atop his mount, then let out a small chuckle.
"You have an excellent eye, Lord Jeong."
“……”
"That axe you shattered, the Mighty Jade Axe… it belonged to my son. It was forged from precious Black Iron by a demonfolk blacksmith quite famous in the Northern Region. A rather valuable piece of plunder, one might say."
He spoke calmly.
"Though it shattered as pointlessly as the lives of us martial artists, it seems to have served its purpose well. I shall be content with that."
He was saying his own son was among those whose lives Jeong Yeon-shin had just snuffed out, yet his tone was as casual as if he were discussing a dead subordinate.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply.
Haa—
A plume of white steam drifted from his lips—the exhalation of his cultivation method.
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was circulating the Law-Transcending Halo Qi, cooling the backlash at his Baihui Point. The Sword House's technique had proven to be a definitive weapon of mass destruction in this Great Sect War, but the greater its power, the harder it was to use repeatedly. This was especially true after it had been used to wipe out the entire force of a Great Sect charging with a world-shaking technique, rather than just catching them off guard.
The Leader had lost the subordinates who had joined him in casting Grasping Wei, Surveying the World, while Jeong Yeon-shin had paid for their instantaneous annihilation with a massive burden on his Upper Dantian.
"Lord Jeong, you..." The Leader stared at him and smiled warmly. "You breathe in a way that doesn't seem human. Then again, the very silhouette of your body is unusual… Strictly speaking, you look like a spirit beast pretending to be human. Seeing you in person is truly chilling."
His words were a clear attempt to probe Jeong Yeon-shin's physical condition and weaknesses. It was an unfitting response from someone who had just suffered a massive loss. Perhaps he believed he could replenish his subordinates at any time, given how bandits infested every corner of the land.
"You," Jeong Yeon-shin spoke slowly. His opponent was an enemy who sought to trample the Desolate Fortress with cavalry. There was no reason to return courtesy with courtesy.
"Turn and face me."
It was not the Leader who reacted first to those words.
Instead, a middle-aged man and woman standing behind Jeong Yeon-shin, gripping an axe and a spear respectively, glared at him. They were the peak experts who had survived the Sword House's strike.
"Watch your tongue."
"No matter your status as a Purple Rank, there is decorum you must maintain! He is…!"
The two carried themselves like military generals. The slight drop in pitch at the end of their sentences hinted at a dialect from beyond the Northern Region, yet the sheer force in their voices gave their words a sharp, refined edge. They were clearly not born bandits; there was undoubtedly a deep history behind the founding of the Horde of Demons Green Forest.
Jeong Yeon-shin merely muttered a brief remark.
"The underlings are speaking."
"Ah, my apologies," the Leader offered with a slight bow. He was still positioned sideways on his steed. Because of this, the backs of the severed heads hanging from the opposite side of his waist were faintly visible, though their features could not be identified.
Whoosh!
Meanwhile, the breath of the warhorse, which seemed almost like a spirit beast, began to merge with the Leader's exhalations in a cloud of white steam. It was a form of cavalry martial arts, where a powerful wave of internal energy boosted the energy of both rider and mount, much like the sword formations of a Great Sect.
He, too, was preparing to strike.
Even though he must have gauged Jeong Yeon-shin's condition with the eyes of a peerless master, he was deliberately stalling for time, chattering away like a scholar from the Hanlin Academy. Naturally, his next strike would be anything but ordinary.
At the same time, booming echoes of Six Harmonies Sound Transmission rang out from all directions, deliberately amplified.
[Begin!]
[He is the only Purple Rank here!]
[Bypass him! Head for Tidal Fist Heaven's position! We can break in before the Lotus Nezha arrives!]
Hundreds had died, yet hundreds more who cultivated internal energy still remained along the walls on either side of the main gate. Had the northern front not collapsed, the Imperial Army would have marched to brand them as rebels. But now, it was a battle that the remaining martial artists of the Desolate Fortress had to bear entirely on their own.
Flutter! Clang!
The enemies of the Desolate Fortress were vast. Those seeking to avoid Jeong Yeon-shin sprinted and leaped over the walls. Robes fluttered violently and shockwaves of Fa Jin erupted everywhere. The battlefield began to move once more.
The enemy had already witnessed one of the major trump cards of the Acting Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. The experts of the world's strongest Great Sects would not fail to devise a countermeasure. They did not approach him. While another of the Thirteen Heavens kept Jeong Yeon-shin occupied, they moved to avoid him as much as possible.
No matter how overwhelming, a single strike could not suppress them all. And just as the Acting Commander possessed absurd wide-area techniques, the shockwaves that would ripple through the Jianghu if they tore down the Desolate Fortress's plaque would be monumental.
"Come to think of it, the Ak Family has suffered one misfortune after another," the Leader remarked, as if suddenly remembering something. He addressed Ak Su-rim, who stood beside Jeong Yeon-shin. "As far as I know, the former family head fell into despair after the Mount Hua Agreement and entered closed-door cultivation. It hasn't been long since the current head took over… I speak of Pillar Spear Excellence Ak Dae-gyeong. I heard he was the eldest nephew of the Divine Spear. Is that correct?"
“……”
"A tragic affair. I offer my deepest condolences." He then neatly clasped his hands together in an incredibly polite Arching Hand Salute. Unlike the typical fist-and-palm salute of martial artists, he even bowed his head slightly, an etiquette resembling that of a scholar.
Seeing the Leader's demeanor, all expression vanished from Ak Su-rim's face. It was a look Jeong Yeon-shin had never seen on her before. In that moment, it was clear that Jeong Yeon-shin had vanished from her field of vision, leaving only the Leader, Je Gang-cheon.
"He was innocent. He was merely swept away by the currents of the times."
Boom!
With a sudden downward sweep of his axe, the Leader parted the dust to his left and right like a wave. As expected of one who had achieved the supreme Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak, he had been focusing on circulating his qi even while speaking. Before long, the very space around Je Gang-cheon and his warhorse began to distort—the prelude to a strike.
He spoke. "A chaotic age is as impartial as a landslide. It sweeps over everyone—the wicked and the righteous, rulers and commoners, the aristocrats of the Martial World and mere bandits alike. This worthless bandit simply needed the heads of the noble Eight Families. I had to make a name for myself as quickly as possible."
"I told you to bring it," Ak Su-rim muttered, her voice low. At this moment, she was not the renowned spear master of the Jianghu, but a bare-handed martial artist with nothing to her name. The short spear at her waist was her only weapon, as she had thrown her main spear to clear a path for Jeong Yeon-shin. She was in no condition to unleash her killing intent on a formidable foe she would struggle to face even at full strength.
Yet, Ak Su-rim took a step forward without even drawing the short spear, her small face a mask of utter coldness.
Rustle.
As her pitch-black sleeves fluttered—
Whoosh!
A streak of pure white light sliced through the air, brushing past Jeong Yeon-shin's hand. It spun once in midair before flying straight into Ak Su-rim's waiting grasp. Jeong Yeon-shin had used his Myriad Blossoms Rain: Absorption Technique to return the long spear she had thrown.
For the first time since the Leader had mentioned the Ak Family, her gaze flickered toward Jeong Yeon-shin. But he was still staring fixedly at the Leader's waist.
"I told you to face me."
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke again. His breathing had already settled into a calm, steady rhythm.
The corners of the Leader's mouth curved upward. "Since I am not quite ready, could you not wait a moment? A cavalry charge is often finished once it halts… At any rate, this grand scheme is a plan the Yeoryeong Lord has prepared for a very long time. It was designed from the ground up for a war of attrition. Even as you clash with us here, your enemies will flock endlessly. They are the grudges the Desolate Fortress has accumulated over its long history."
Clack.
"Therefore," the Leader said as he slowly turned his steed. Even as he came to face Jeong Yeon-shin head-on, he continued in a leisurely tone. "Do not expect this to end quickly. I assure you, this battle will drag on as tediously as the monsoon rains. Such is the weight of the grudges born from the Desolate Fortress policing the world. We have endless reinforcements. Your only reinforcement is yourself, is it not?"
Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply. Beside him, Ak Su-rim came to a sudden halt.
The severed heads tied to Je Gang-cheon's waist finally turned to face them, revealing a sight that was painfully familiar.
The beautiful head of a Brightfolk, and a face wrapped in bandages, its features obscured.
They were the Commander of the Searing Abyss Unit and the Commander of the Netherflow Unit.
"They did their best. You, the Purple Rank of the Desolate Fortress, must not blame them."
"We mourn them," the male and female peak experts of the Horde of Demons Green Forest said from behind.
With the pile of corpses to one side, Jeong Yeon-shin and Ak Su-rim were surrounded, flanked by the Leader in front and his subordinates behind.
At that moment—
[Yong— Hee— myung—!]
BOOM!
A massive figure landed, his feet scraping violently against the ground. It was Hyeokryeon Pung-wol, Lord of the Martial Dragon Association. He flung the people he had been gripping in his hands to either side.
Thud!
A middle-aged man with a prosthetic leg flipped in midair and slid backward on one knee, while a tall, gaunt swordsman plowed a deep furrow into the dirt as he crashed.
They were the Master of the Martial Apex Hall and the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit.
"Jeong-myeong…!" the Master of the Martial Apex Hall snapped his head up, letting out a low groan upon seeing the head of the Searing Abyss Unit's Commander. Meanwhile, the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit struggled to control his body and could not immediately stand. He looked half-dead, the pulse in his throat faint and weak.
Hyeokryeon Pung-wol clicked his tongue. "The Martial Apex Squad… no, is it the Martial Apex Hall now? You certainly have a knack for holding people back. They say the Martial Apex Lineage stands as an equal to the Flash Art Lineage in the Desolate Fortress. It seems that was no exaggeration."
“……”
"Ah, Flash Art. It has been a while," Hyeokryeon Pung-wol continued, his tone casual. "What you did earlier was truly marvelous. To unleash such a profound sound art with mere blades? It would not be an exaggeration to say your internal energy has reached the heavens. Next time, let me experience it, too. It seems like it would be quite thrilling. Shouldn't you be standing in for Yong Hee-myung here?"
It was idle chatter. Just like that, the leader of the Martial Dragon Association displayed the madness he was infamous for, proving without any formal declaration that the entire martial world had indeed gathered in Xiangyang.
Yet, none of the Desolate Fortress experts replied. Their attention was entirely focused on the Leader of the Horde of Demons Green Forest.
Hyeokryeon Pung-wol smacked his lips. "Well, it is the same for us regarding the deaths of our disciples and comrades. It is truly sorrowful, but what use is trivial human life on the path to reaching the Martial Apex—!"
He trailed off.
A blue-white light had begun to flicker within the young Purple Rank's eyes.
He had snapped. He was no longer in his right mind.
Accompanied by a low vibration, his pupils darted like beams of light—up, down, left, right, and diagonally. A faint, glowing afterimage trailed his gaze, carrying a chilling, murderous intent. Countless fragments of thought flooded his mind, his eyes reflecting the storm within. As translucent winds gathered like swelling clouds behind him, he reached his hand back.
Myriad Blossoms Rain.
Whoosh!
Jeong Yeon-shin frantically pieced together the verses of the art in his mind. He had seen more than enough of the Jianghu. He was utterly sick of it.
Everything was already within his mental image. All he needed now was a state of mind worthy of the technique.
'Ten Perfections. Heterodox Path.'
Rumbleeeee!
Axes, spears, sabers, and swords—weapons that had lost their masters. Hundreds of blades scattered across the battlefield like tombstones floated into the air, shedding their coats of dust.
It was like the moment the Emperor of All Weapons, Lord of the Sichuan Tenth Sect, had boasted of his eighteen weapon arts, each blade pointing in a subtly different direction. Or perhaps like the sea of swords the Lord of Heaven's Bane had summoned with a single stomp of his foot.
“……”
The exact same sight was reflected in the eyes of the Leader, Je Gang-cheon, his warhorse, and the two remaining peak experts of the Horde of Demons Green Forest.
"Today," the young man in the purple robe said, his face expressionless as his lips parted. He stood with his back to a vast sea of weapons, revealing another face of absolute, pure killing intent.
The Acting Commander of the Divine Sword Corps spoke.
"The Jianghu dies."
It was the beginning of the Great War of the Desolate Fortress.