Chapter 523: The Southern Venerable (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 523: The Southern Venerable (2)
It was the hour when even the twilight had vanished. Dark, shadowy gusts of wind repeatedly swept downward, only to scatter in vain.
Occasionally, they brushed bleakly against the vast sea of sand covering the earth.
There was no moon.
No stars either.
Yet, it was not a dark night. A violet current, looking as if it had been drawn from the very edge of the setting sun, surged across the sky like a long river.
Crossing the heavens with the powerful, grand strokes of a young painter's brush, it shimmered faintly, resembling the dying breath of a giant with only days left to live.
Step.
A man walking beneath it with a dignified stride suddenly paused and spoke.
"A wave of fa jin... Is this the trace of a shockwave? I thought it was just a common aurora..."
It was a murmur close to a whisper. He had spoken aloud deliberately to overcome the fear weighing heavily on his mind and body.
He glanced up at the night sky.
At that moment, the current resembling the dying sunset rippled. Like a human eyelid.
Incomprehensible. It was exactly as the word implied. It was a sight that would send a chill down the spine of any master.
"..."
Fear flickered in the man's blue eyes. His unusually sharp jawline twitched in a spasm.
Even his innate, authoritative temperament withered away, if only for a moment.
The Heaven-Communicating Envoy, Bukgung Myeong.
One of the top ten among the countless young palace masters of the North Sea Ice Palace, he quickened his pace.
This is not a phenomenon a human can manipulate. The Palace Master made the right decision.
After crossing the wilderness in this manner, Bukgung Myeong arrived at a certain manor. It was a place composed of pavilions so massive they almost resembled a palace.
There were no gatekeepers.
Only the breathing of those who filled the walls, the roofs, and the narrow paths winding through the manor could be heard.
Their clothing and attire varied so wildly in color and style that there was no sense of unity, yet the invisible waves of energy slicing sharply through the atmosphere were identical.
About three hundred people.
Just by standing still, their auras subtly gouged the earth. Even the air trembled minutely.
Huuu—
Bukgung Myeong channeled his internal energy into his chest. His breathing had rapidly grown difficult the moment he crossed the manor's threshold, and only after forcing his insides to contract did he manage to catch his breath.
The demons of the Ming Cult.
Their auras were perfectly suited to a night sky that had swallowed the moon and stars.
It was exactly as the legends passed down in the Ice Palace described. It was said that the ancient Ming Cult never bowed its head, not even to the Desolate Fortress.
Bukgung Myeong barely managed to speak, holding up a transparent jade bead in one hand.
"May I enter? As you can see, this is a fragment of Ice Essence, and I am an envoy from the Ice Palace. I have come to deliver our palace's intentions."
No answer came.
Yet, he took a step forward, reading the room. It was enough that these inhuman beings did not pounce on him immediately. Naturally, this meant he was permitted to enter.
Step.
Passing through a garden filled with colorful, exotic plants and rare herbs, he made his way to the inner depths of the manor, which reeked of alcohol.
Bukgung Myeong walked, trying his best not to look left or right. The Lord of the North Sea Ice Palace whom he served was a person with the most terrifying disposition in the North.
Yet, despite the overwhelming presence that loomed over the Ice Palace, this land where the Ming Cultists gathered felt as though even one's shadow would be sucked beneath their feet.
Damn it. What is there for these monsters who used to live down south to eat that they've crawled all the way up here...?
He forced his expression to harden and raised his eyes.
Before he knew it, an incredibly lavish artificial mountain unfolded before him. It was a sculpted valley made of piled pebbles and carved rocks. Instead of water, alcohol trickled down—the very height of decadence.
The figure of a woman standing with the tip of one foot perched on one of its peaks was also mysterious.
Was she practicing her sense of balance?
She was a swordswoman with exceptionally pitch-black hair cascading down her back.
The silk wrapped around her waist was Black Star Satin, said to be imported only from the Western Regions, and the hilt of the sword tucked into her sash was engraved with the character for "desolate" (荒).
She had a deathly pale face, looking as if she had fully mastered the legendary Bare-Hand Demonic Art with her entire body, and an incredibly cold, expressionless countenance.
She did not spare a single glance for Bukgung Myeong, who had just entered the inner courtyard, standing like a statue decorating the grounds.
Desolate...? Surely she can't be a master from the Desolate Fortress.
However, Bukgung Myeong could not observe her for long.
[You have quite some depth.]
"It is a virtue of our sect. We keep in mind all the pleasures and customs that occur in this land."
The voice came from beyond the artificial mountain. One of the two people playing Go on a wooden bench had turned his head. He was a man whose face was hidden beneath a deeply pulled-down bamboo hat.
"Regrettably, I am the first guest. I have come from Lingering Spirit."
A bizarre voice flowed from beneath the bamboo hat. It sounded like metal scraping against metal.
Then, the man in the bamboo hat asked quietly,
"And you are from the Ice Palace?"
However, Bukgung Myeong only glanced at him and did not bother to engage in conversation.
This was because the presence of the woman sitting opposite the man in the bamboo hat was already encompassing the sky with a vast, distant feeling. The master of the faint violet aurora was right here.
The youngest Number One of Tibet in all of history.
She was the Ming Cult Leader, the Heaven-Smiling Invincible.
"Mmh."
She propped up one knee at an angle and rested her elbow on it. It was a sight dripping with extreme boredom, matching the way she rolled a single Go stone in her hand.
Meanwhile, the faint, cascading light of the aurora shattered into shadows against her sharp nose. Her features were soul-stealing.
Bukgung Myeong snapped out of his daze.
Her face was not merely dreamlike; it was a thrilling beauty that in itself evoked the image of ultimate martial arts.
They say the Ming Cult Leader can turn a person into a believer with just a few words...!
Since ancient times, the Heavenly Demon was known to bewitch people by their very existence. An inhuman being whose bearing, appearance, and martial arts were all overwhelming, she proved the legends entirely true.
Fortunately, the current Ming Cult Leader was as straightforward as her presence was immense. She urged him to speak, not giving Bukgung Myeong even a moment to lose his composure.
[Your business?]
The indifferent voice made the surroundings hum.
Bukgung Myeong felt a shock as if a drum had been beaten right next to his ear, but as a direct descendant of the Ice Palace Master, he did not let his expression falter.
"...I ask the Ming Cult Leader. Why do you not stop your march north?"
[The world is in turmoil. To the point where the masters of our cult require a safe haven to secure their lives in the future.]
It was an indirect answer.
Through this brief exchange, Bukgung Myeong gauged the Ming Cult Leader's character.
He intuitively saw through her temperament of never revealing her true thoughts to anyone. This was thanks to his wits, which had been sharpened in the incredibly brutal succession battles of the Ice Palace.
I must remain completely honest. Only then will I avoid getting on her nerves.
It was then.
"This is unexpected... but it makes the conversation much easier. Since I am the first guest, my words should come first, correct?"
Perhaps he hadn't expected to have an audience with the Ming Cult Leader alongside Bukgung Myeong. The Lingering Spirit master in the bamboo hat placed a white stone on the Go board and continued.
"The current strength of the Ming Cult is clearly the greatest among the Thirteen Heavens. Above all, it is not an all-out war; if it is merely a matter of seizing the Ice Essence they possess, it is well within our capabilities. It will be even easier if the Cult Leader lends a hand."
"...!"
Bukgung Myeong realized instantly.
If the Ming Cult Leader accepted that man's request, his life would end here. There was no way they would let an Ice Palace member who had overheard a plot regarding the Ice Essence live.
It was then.
[Mmh... And the price?]
"Whatever you desire."
Such was the reply of the man in the bamboo hat.
At those words, the corners of the Heaven-Smiling Invincible's lips curved into a strange arc.
That was all.
In an instant, Bukgung Myeong's vision was filled with a pitch-black radiance, and the current of the aurora stretching across the sky was dyed from violet to a dark, ink-like black.
* * *
What is the first virtue that the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps at the Desolate Fortress must possess as the supreme superior of the martial artists under his command?
Jeong Yeon-shin was someone who had read the writings of all kinds of sages since childhood. Naturally, he knew the answer.
It is tolerance. Embracing one's comrades...
He slowly looked around.
Seats were arranged in a circle around a massive stone round table, every single one of them carved from precious marble. Furthermore, the grayish-white backrests exceeded the height of an average grown man.
Looking at them again, their appearance was familiar; they were identical to the Grandmaster's Chairs that a certain Yong fellow—swept away by the forward waves of the Yangtze River—had once crafted beyond the door.
Eighteen in total.
This was the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall of the Desolate Fortress. Currently, eight seats were occupied, including Jeong Yeon-shin's.
The Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit, the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit, the Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, the Master of the Martial Apex Hall, and Namgung Hwa-shin—who had entered with his upper body wrapped in bandages—all directed their unswervingly straight gazes toward the Acting Commander.
There was not a single person who had not buried their fallen comrades in their hearts. Even so, not one of them made the atmosphere heavy.
Among these people who deliberately treated death in battle as a common occurrence, the dust in the room drifted silently like a cluster of stars.
Soon after.
"We will begin the meeting," Jeong Yeon-shin's words echoed.
At the same time, sitting to his immediate right—effectively the second seat of honor—the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon, Jin Myeong-jo, twitched almost imperceptibly.
He seemed deeply moved by the sight of his fully grown junior.
"..."
In the seat to his left was Ak Su-rim, her brow heavily furrowed.
It was an expression that perfectly suited her fifteen- or sixteen-year-old face. Although the greatest flag bearer of the Desolate Fortress was currently tossing her sect-exclusive weapon beneath her feet, Jeong Yeon-shin did not rashly try to fathom the period of storm and stress that he himself had bypassed without experiencing.
This was precisely the attitude of a magnanimous leader.
He spoke calmly.
"Supplies have already been resolved, so I have excluded them from the agenda. Next, we must organize our formations."
"That's a topic with a lot to discuss. Seven days and nights wouldn't be enough to debate this. Of course, everyone has eaten their fill before coming..."
Before Ak Su-rim, who chimed in from the side, could even finish her sentence, Jeong Yeon-shin's calm voice overrode hers.
"It is complete."
"Pardon...?"
Ak Su-rim's question slipped out in polite speech. It was a highly difficult task, so it was only natural to be surprised. Jeong Yeon-shin nodded to himself and flicked his fingers.
Fwip—
A scroll shot out from his breast pocket and landed in the center of the round table. As Cheon So-so tilted her head to one side and extended her index finger, the scroll unfurled widely, revealing its contents.
This was accompanied by his unwavering voice, which seemed confident of a successful first meeting.
"First is the Divine Sword Squad. We will take the members of the Divine Sword Squad who survived after cutting off the supply lines of the Net of Heaven and Earth that previously trapped Senior Yong, but we have also drafted a few people from each unit. Aside from the Commander and Deputy Commander, I intend to compose the entire Divine Sword Squad of Blue Ranks."
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin said, the organization of the Divine Sword Squad was written at the very top. It was literally written in a single stroke of the brush. There were only two or three places showing signs of hesitation.
[Under Acting Commander and Commander of the Divine Sword Squad, Jeong Yeon-shin:
Deputy Commander of the Divine Sword Squad, Divine Blood Radiant Star Jin Myeong-jo.
Divine Sword Squad Member, Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress Heonwon Chang.
Divine Sword Squad Member, Keen Pen of the Divine Sword Yeon So-ha.
Divine Sword Squad Lowest Rank, Lazy Flame Dragon Hwangbo So-and-so.
Divine Sword Squad Member, Hidden Fist Sambok.
Divine Sword Prisoner, Red-robed Mad Blood.
Divine Sword Squad Member, Moon-Shooting Bow Ghost Wi Ye-ryeong.
Divine Sword Squad Member, Wise Blade Oh Wol-hyang...]
Although the word "Acting" written at the very front was somewhat faint, no one paid any attention to it.
This was due to the waves of energy that suddenly erupted simultaneously inside and outside the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall. They were incredibly powerful.
Wooooong—!
In an instant, two figures leaped from their seats in a near-spasmodic reaction.
And from the outside, a presence rushed in as smoothly as a divine dragon swimming through the clouds.
...Is this insubordination?
Jeong Yeon-shin's face was tinged with a slight trace of shock.