Chapter 522: The Southern Venerable
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 522: The Southern Venerable
Jeong Yeon-shin never slacked off when it came to learning. Even by his own estimation, his growth in both martial arts and character was remarkably rapid.
Once, when gathered with the three seniors who wielded the Sword of Divine Attainment, he had heard the true virtues required of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
Above all else, the first was to never waste mental energy on trivial matters.
He was to keep only the Jianghu affairs briefed by the Grand Steward in his head. Everything else—the internal management of the Desolate Fortress, the political currents of Beijing—was to be resolved with a single swing of his sword.
The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps was the living pillar of the realm; as long as his martial prowess stood absolute, supply issues and underhanded schemes would naturally resolve themselves.
‘It makes sense.’
Looking at the scene unfolding beneath the roof, he couldn't help but agree.
"You... How could you...!"
A dark shadow fell over the face of Prince Jeong, Ju Tae-il, the man Yeon-shin had previously encountered in Hangzhou. The grand and noble dignity he once possessed seemed to have been swallowed by the fading sunset.
He pointed a trembling finger at Shin Cheon-hwa, who floated suspended in midair.
Suddenly, Shin Cheon-hwa turned her head slightly toward Jeong Yeon-shin.
[He is the man who sent a matchmaker to me.]
"Ah."
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the crown of Prince Jeong's head and let out a dry sound.
Because of the official hat with silk wings rising over the back of the Prince's head, the traces of his maternal grandfather's palm technique had been hidden from view.
Regretting that his current achievements couldn't yet compare to those of his maternal grandfather in his youth, Yeon-shin stretched out his arm toward a pitch-black swallow diving from the sky.
It was faint but distinct. The all-too-familiar metallic tang of blood wafted from those tiny, flapping wings.
'What is this?'
[I suppose an introduction is in order. I once went by the surname Shin and the courtesy name Cheon-hwa. Those of the Ju clan gathered over there should know my identity well.]
"The Lord of the Sword of Divine Attainment... from the generation before last...!"
"There was... another Commander of the Divine Sword Corps? The Desolate Fortress... just what kind of organization is this...?"
Groans and murmurs of disbelief rippled through the crowd, declaring it pure pandemonium. But Jeong Yeon-shin no longer paid them any mind. The title of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps from the generation before last was explanation enough.
[You've all come at a very appropriate time. Shall we first draw up a pledge for wartime requisition?]
He could feel Shin Cheon-hwa's presence bearing down on the guests. She was poised to strike. An instant later, a sharp crack echoed from the jaws of a few who had dared to open their mouths in hostility.
Without warning, fist winds surging from below had shattered their lower jaws.
[They say you can never have enough supplies, but we are the sword of the nation in name and reality. We shouldn't have to worry about our rice bowls being empty for the next ten years. We are, after all, the ones who always bleed for you.]
"……."
The guests remained dead silent inside the prison of earth and stone that had sprouted around them like stalactites in a deep cave.
[Moving Prince Jeong's estate to the main fortress, creating a support group of rogue martial artists in Southern Zhili... all of it sounds plausible. Of course, the Flash Art's marriage must be left to my junior himself. And...]
Shin Cheon-hwa shattered the guests' lofty arrogance as easily as dismantling a basic martial art. The way she extracted exactly what the main fortress needed flowed as naturally as water.
It was all thanks to her unhesitating speech and momentum, backed by her overwhelming martial prowess and absolute status.
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin pulled his senses away from the crowd and lowered his gaze to the bird.
"……."
The swallow, which had landed on his forearm without him noticing, stretched out one of its legs. It was a familiar creature—definitely Cheong-myeong's swallow.
A spirit beast that delivered news for the current Commander of the Demonlight Wing. A small note was tied to its extended leg.
Why was it here?
He hesitated to reach out.
The letter was written in blood. Although it had clearly been dried with internal energy to prevent the writing from smudging, the metallic scent remained thick and heavy.
After staring at it for a breath, Jeong Yeon-shin, the former Commander of the Demonlight Wing, unfolded the small slip of paper. Two characters immediately caught his eye.
Perhaps because blood had been wasted writing on another page beforehand, the ends of the strokes were somewhat faint.
—Safe. (無事)
Jeong Yeon-shin knew the minor gestures and physical habits of all the Demonlight Wing warriors. He immediately recognized the handwriting as belonging to the White Rank warrior, Eung Han-so.
It was the handwriting of a senior who didn't usually stand out, but who had meticulously managed their supplies when Jeong Yeon-shin, Heonwon Chang, and even Lazy Flame Dragon had first joined the unit.
—Your martial uniform doesn't fit again? It looks like we'll have to change your sleepwear too this time. You look very impressive as a martial artist, Yeon-shin...
Eung Han-so's personality was simple and honest.
The Demonlight Wing knew exactly how much Jeong Yeon-shin cared for them. Naturally, they wouldn't lie about their safety.
'Brother Han-so... why is it written in blood?'
And why was the letter so short? These were the same people who used to ask how much longer his reach had gotten every single time they met.
Did they not even have the leisure to take a brush and ink from their bundles?
Just what kind of situation had they found themselves in?
At that moment, Cheon So-so, who was standing beside him, glanced at the letter. She had let go of Jeong Yeon-shin's sleeve without him even realizing.
"Trust them," she said.
"Pardon?"
"The kids in the Demonlight Wing are bellicose, but they aren't so presumptuous as to worry about a Purple Rank's skill and safety. If they needed support, they would have written so honestly. It's a situation they believe they can handle. At least for now."
Her clear voice brushed his ears like a dawn breeze. It was flat and emotionless as always, but it was a remarkably long speech for her.
Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent for a moment before nodding.
He could not intervene in everything. Such was the conduct required of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. It was right to wait for the news the Demonlight Wing would eventually send.
Jeong Yeon-shin flipped the letter over on the spot to write a reply. With a quick pulse of internal energy, he pierced the skin of his index finger.
—Recklessness forbidden. (六甲 不許)
It was a strict command not to act rashly and to prioritize their lives. Cheon So-so stared down at his neat, regular script, but Jeong Yeon-shin modestly pretended not to notice her gaze.
He had no intention of boasting about a handwriting style he had only acquired through harsh beatings in his childhood.
'Still, I must send support.'
Sending Cheong-myeong's swallow back into the sky, Jeong Yeon-shin glanced beneath the roof once more.
Down below, Shin Cheon-hwa, accompanied by a servant of the main fortress, was already drawing up a joint signature petition with her hands clasped casually behind her back.
She was forcing the guests to sign the blank ledger held open by the servant—a method that didn't look very elegant in the slightest.
Even so, it was a necessary task. He had to accept it as his senior taking on the dirty work for his sake.
"Please write the contents of the petition first."
[Where is the time for that? I will write it all myself later.]
"Even so, this is absurd...!"
[Does it make sense for people who supposedly care about the nation to come to a main fortress that has just fought a brutal war, just to squabble over a Purple Rank's marriage?]
After taking in the sight for a moment, Jeong Yeon-shin lightly tapped the roof with his foot. There were many things he had to handle on behalf of the Commander.
Whoosh!
The dust accumulated on the roof was swept away by a faint glow. Leaving only a single instruction for Cheon So-so, he vanished from the spot.
"Please summon the Black Rank seniors to the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall."
It was opening for the very first time.
The Desolate Fortress leadership meeting, hosted by Jeong Yeon-shin.
It was a gathering at the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall that encompassed the former and current Vice Commanders of the Divine Sword Corps, the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit, the Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, the Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit, the Master of the Martial Apex Hall, the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit, and even the temporary Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing.
It was also the crucible where the Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword Corps would be reborn as a far more aggressive force than ever before.
* * *
A road still stained with blood in places.
Various guests signed their names on the petition before either fleeing for home immediately or being driven back to their assigned quarters within the Desolate Fortress.
Those who uttered even a single word of objection did not return with their bodies intact. The members of the Ju clan suffered deep internal injuries, while the other guests were left with gruesome external wounds.
Each of them carried a heavy sense of humiliation they never imagined would befall them.
Of course, it was impossible for them to retaliate against the entire Desolate Fortress. However, they could certainly send a petition to Beijing regarding the actions of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps from the generation before last.
Those voices of dissent would by no means be quiet. They walked away, each wearing a similarly grim expression.
"What on earth was that sorcery...?"
"There was another Purple Rank? This is an urgent matter that must be dealt with immediately...!"
"Let's go to Beijing. We had to stop by there anyway."
But to Grand Steward Im Jin-myeong, none of that mattered. He simply expressed his gratitude to the figure who would soon disappear.
"Thanks to you, we avoided a crisis."
[Supplies are indeed a massive problem. At any rate, troubled times are truly troubled times, for the Grand Steward of the main fortress to speak of a crisis over mere post-war cleanup.]
"I meant you stepping forward to handle this on behalf of Lord Jeong."
[Hmm.]
Given Jeong Yeon-shin's personality, what kind of ruthless strike would he have made? Considering the timing, an uncontrollable backlash might have erupted. Nodding with a strange expression, Shin Cheon-hwa spoke again.
[It will only get harder from here. Especially since those who call themselves kings are in such a pathetic state.]
"There are no true Ju clan experts left in this land. They have either gone to the Northern Region, or met their end there... it is one of those two fates for all of them."
[So, Geonreung is dead?]
"...Yes."
[He didn't live out his natural lifespan. He was a man who seemed like he would sit on the imperial throne forever... I can't even fathom what the reason was.]
"He did what was necessary. After you passed away, a Fighting God appeared and unified more than half of that chaotic and vast Northern Region. Furthermore, all kinds of strange, violent, and chaotic supernatural forces are frequently running rampant within the country."
[Are they proof of that?]
Suddenly, Shin Cheon-hwa pointed to one side of the road.
The guests who had been scattering earlier—strongmen from all walks of life, rarely seen gathered in one place—had stopped in their tracks without realizing it.
Rustle.
A sound like footsteps treading upon clouds echoed.
"……."
A group of about twenty people dressed in pristine white robes walked smoothly through the crowd of guests.
Had they been waiting for the commotion to die down? There were guests who, out of sheer pride, refused to make way, yet the group in white wasn't blocked by a single person.
They utilized a body protection scripture that allowed them to slip by without brushing against the opponents' clothes in the slightest.
It bordered on an obsessive level of fastidiousness. This was despite the fact that they were covered in bizarre green blood and had chunks of torn flesh stuck to various parts of their bodies.
"The Cloud-Yang Immortal Sword, the Lord of the Clear Lake Sect, the Gazing-at-Splendor Palm, the Hermitage-Viewing Guest..." Im Jin-myeong muttered in a low voice. "...They are the Wudang lay disciples."
These were individuals who had inherited the true teachings of Wudang—famous as the greatest sword sect of all time—but had refused to become ordained Taoist priests because they still harbored desires in the secular world.
As a result, they were also those who had not been permitted to learn Wudang's peerless martial arts, such as the Taiji Wisdom Sword and the Ten Stages of Brocade.
[Wudang. They still have a temperament that makes them difficult to converse with.]
Shin Cheon-hwa shrugged her shoulders slightly.
[You handle them. I must share my parting sentiments with my junior.]
Whoosh!
Suddenly, her figure stretched like a mirage toward a distant roof. Needless to say, she vanished completely in the blink of an eye.
Im Jin-myeong politely clasped his hands in her direction before turning around. The Wudang martial lineage stood right before his eyes.
The descendants of Zhang Sanfeng.
Would the Flash Art lineage look like this if it were worn down by the long passage of years?
Their leader was an elderly man. His voice was low as he introduced himself as the Lord of the Clear Lake Sect, a lay sect of Wudang.
"For some reason, a newborn Human-Faced Spider, a Gohuik Bird, a Year-Forgetting Golden Turtle, and a Flying Centipede attempted to cross over to Xiangyang. I am here to inform you that they are no longer a threat."
The names of all kinds of monstrous spirit beasts flowed easily from his mouth.
But that was not all. Before the surrounding crowd could even react, the Lord of the Clear Lake Sect brought up what was clearly his main business.
"Furthermore, we wish to invite Lord Jeong, the Flash Art, to the Sword-Releasing Pond of our main mountain. This is the will of the Wudang Sect in both name and reality. I must also inform you that a registered disciple from our main mountain has already headed directly to your leadership meeting place."
Im Jin-myeong immediately shot back.
"I know that the Lord of the Clear Lake Sect's reputation is high, but whose permission did you get to roam our main fortress as if it were your own home?"
It was a sharp interrogation from the Grand Steward of the Desolate Fortress. Anyone else would have been crushed by his fierce momentum, yet the Lord of the Clear Lake Sect's face remained perfectly calm.
"If we were to compare it to the Desolate Fortress's situation, it would be as if the severed head of the Hegemon Hero, who suddenly died, were placed upon Mount Wudang. I dare not represent the entirety of Wudang, but... in any case, I apologize for the rudeness. Please understand."
His tone was unhesitating yet perfectly calm. It was a metaphor referring to the death of the Perfected Ancient Sword, and genuine sincerity was imbued in his apology.
For the first time, Im Jin-myeong opened his mouth, only to close it again.
A long silence followed.
The Lord of the Clear Lake Sect was the first to break it.
"So, even if an expert from our main mountain intrudes upon your important meeting, please do not treat it as a major incident. Lord Jeong's sense of Qi surely encompasses this entire fortress, and since no one but him would be able to harm her... there will be no major clash between our main mountain and the Desolate Fortress. This is due not to pure martial prowess, but to the unique characteristics of the divine art she has mastered. I am speaking of the Taiji Wisdom Sword."
"……."
Im Jin-myeong did not answer.
He thought of the commanders of each unit of the Divine Sword Corps who would be gathering at the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall right at this very moment.
'As many as eight.'
Excluding the grand mobilization order previously issued by Yong Hee-myung, this was an unprecedented number.
And among them were individuals who needed to be watched very closely.
There was the Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress, who was constantly looking for an opportunity to reclaim her position; the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon, whose eyes were bloodshot with the mad urge to leave for anywhere else; and White Qilin, whose mind had gone somewhat awry after suffering consecutive failures and losses.