Chapter 525: The Southern Venerable (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 525: The Southern Venerable (4)
Jet-black hair and a dark robe fluttered in the wind.
"I cannot bear to watch this any longer. Your insolence has crossed the line."
So spoke Jin Myeong-jo, the Divine Blood Ultimate Demon.
"This is the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall of our fortress."
His exceptionally dark hair and the trim of his robe—symbolizing his status as a Unit Commander—blended together like the night sky. The other Unit Commanders seated in the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall stared at his back with startled expressions.
"Was that just...?"
"Has he made a great advancement in his martial arts already?"
A great advancement.
It was a term referring to a massive leap in one's martial arts.
Jeong Yeon-shin, like the other seniors, stared at Jin Myeong-jo, who now stood blocking Wudang's Long Staff. He felt a familiar aura radiating from the man's back—a back that, as always, remained the most reliable sight in the fortress.
It was the same aura as the Blood Flame Cult Leader, who had once crushed Yeon-shin with an irresistible presence during his days as a Blue Rank.
The spirituality that had emanated from that white-haired transcendent when he attacked the Lord of the Desolate Fortress was now flowing from Jin Myeong-jo. Though faint, it carried an incredibly chilling sensation.
I heard he took the head of another Blood Flame Cult Leader.
The spirituality of the Blood Ghost, said to be the most noble under heaven, had been inherited by the current Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
Spirituality.
An intent possessing a mysterious nature, it was a power distinct from internal energy. The higher the realm of the one who forged it, the longer it remained in the world.
Just as it amplified the power of internal energy, spirituality was also the reason Jeong Yeon-shin's Purple Robe could repair its own fabric.
As long as internal energy remained infused within the threads, the robe's spirituality would never fade. This was what Emperor Geonreung had told him when he received the purple garment.
— It was made by my own man, the finest tailor in Beijing. Since even that rascal, the God Thief, coveted it, it is no exaggeration to call him the greatest artisan under heaven.
The same principle applied to the spirituality of the white-haired transcendent who had burned in the blue flames of the Former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps in Sichuan.
The nobles of the Blood Flame Cult ranked themselves and honored the souls of their ancestors through the Innate Qi bound to their blood. For someone who had stood at the pinnacle of that clan for so long, it was only natural for their spirituality to remain behind, much like the sarira of a high monk.
But...
Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
Absorbing and refining it completely was a different matter entirely. The current Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps undoubtedly required deep closed-door cultivation right now.
His very appearance at the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall today was surprising. No matter how the meeting went, he could have simply focused on growing stronger on his own.
It was then.
"If it is not Lord Jeong... I have no business here...!"
Along with a woman's suppressed voice, a scent like pine swept over him. In that instant, Jeong Yeon-shin recalled a certain pavilion from the past.
Yong Hee-myung and the Unit Commanders sharing drinks over a Five-Rhyme Mountain Herb Dish, and the Perfected Ancient Sword, who had slyly challenged Yeon-shin to a grappling duel in the guise of a young boy.
It was the vibration of the Wudang Cotton Palm.
Whoosh!
The Long Staff, currently caught by the neck in Jin Myeong-jo's grip, wrapped her left hand around his arm to pry it off. The movement was firm yet gentle—and blindingly fast.
Having peeled Jin Myeong-jo's arm away in an instant, she suddenly sank downward.
In the next moment, the Long Staff's body arrived at the seat next to Jeong Yeon-shin, right where Jin Myeong-jo had originally been sitting. Her white sleeves fluttered like wispy clouds.
Rustle.
She was incredibly elusive.
The complete absence of any propulsion shockwave vibrations made it clear that this was Wudang's Cloud-Ladder Step. It perfectly suited her aura, which felt as though she were treading upon an immense height.
But her evasion was short-lived. The Long Staff, clad in her pure white Taoist robe, flinched. Before she even realized it, Jin Myeong-jo had taken a position behind her, leaving a trail of red light from his eyes like the tail of a comet.
"Leaping around like a monkey," he muttered, his voice cold enough to shatter ice.
"..."
The Cloud-Ladder Step of the Five Bright Vessels of Huguang Province, said to have surpassed the realm of rising stars, could not shake off the Body Protection Scripture of the Commander of the Bloodkeeper Unit—a man often looked down upon as a mere Blood Ghost.
Moreover, this entire spectacle was unfolding right before the eyes of the Unit Commanders seated in the hall.
Hahu Wi-jin was even clapping his hands. If Jeong Yeon-shin had not stopped Jin Myeong-jo with a silent nod in that split second, the Long Staff's head would have been split open by the Dark Night Radiant Blood Magic Sword.
"...Right now, Mount Wudang is on the verge of being split in half by our Sect Leader's own hands."
With her back to Jin Myeong-jo, the Long Staff spoke clearly. Her attitude suggested she did not care what kind of attack she might face at any moment.
Her face was veiled in translucent silk, revealing only her eyes. At this moment, the eyes looking down at Jeong Yeon-shin held a bluish tint.
It was impossible to tell whether this was due to the glow of an eye technique or the Ju family lineage, which carried the blood of the Brightfolk.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke immediately.
"That is not enough of a reason to disrupt the meeting at the Wish-for-Peace One Sword Hall. I need you to explain the situation properly."
"The reason... lies with my Grand-Disciple Uncle, the Perfected Ancient Sword."
The Long Staff, Ju Se-hwa, squeezed the words out. Her voice was heavily laced with suppressed emotion.
"..."
The death of the Perfected Ancient Sword.
Was she struggling to hold back the urge to blame Jeong Yeon-shin? Most people of the Jianghu he had encountered would have done exactly that. Of course, Yeon-shin himself harbored a bitter pain that could never be erased.
For if he had not lost to the Lord of Heaven's Bane in the first place, a chivalrous hero of the world like the Wudang Ancient Sword would never have closed his eyes forever.
Hangzhou, where the Peerless Grand Festival took place.
The Purple Robe had moved. Wudang must have felt relieved.
And then, the tragedy occurred.
If only the Commander had faced the Lord of Heaven's Bane from the start...
Would anyone have had to die?
The urgency that had sprouted within Jeong Yeon-shin at some point was also rooted in his sense of inferiority toward Yong Hee-myung.
He was prepared to silently accept it even if Ju Se-hwa blamed him here. The Acting Commander, the destined master of the Sword of Divine Attainment, the superhuman of the era who refused to permit the death of any righteous hero...
Then, Ju Se-hwa spoke again.
"I searched for the Commander of the Thread-Annihilation Unit, who was said to have stayed with my Grand-Disciple Uncle until the very end, but I could not reach her. I had no choice but to come here. Aside from the Silent Dawn Lord Shin Hwang, you, Flash Art Lord Jeong, are the only one who spoke with him. I beg of you, will you not ascend Mount Wudang and rid our sect of its calamity?"
"..."
As Jeong Yeon-shin fell silent for a moment at the upright Wudang disciple's plea, the voices of four people echoed from outside, mingled with a dense wave of energy.
Two were gentle voices, one was the polite and neat voice of a young man, and the last was the somewhat raspy voice of a middle-aged man.
"Please, do not do this. Trespassing over the walls of the Desolate Fortress without warning is deeply shameful and regrettable, but we poor Taoists have only come to stop our sect's disciple."
"That is correct. Young Hero Namgung, is there any reason for us to exchange blows? We originally intended to send word and follow proper procedures...!"
"You, Perfected Ones, crossed over the western wall that was destroyed during the Great Sect War. In times like these, there is no greater insult or disrespect. Save the rest of your words for the Thunder Prison. The prison of our fortress has not collapsed. Senior Azure Sky, I will take the lead..."
"White Qilin, that is enough. Do not push too far ahead just because you have mastered Qilin's Judgment. The sharper your sword force becomes, the more Wudang's Taiji skill will... Hey, wait a moment... you bastard."
Two Wudang Taoists.
And the Temporary Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing and the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
As if they had clashed, the influence of their energy waves gradually drew closer, accompanied by gusts of wind that exploded like firebombs.
"Ah."
Ju Se-hwa let out a soft gasp beside Jeong Yeon-shin.
"It seems my two Martial Uncles have come to capture me. I barely managed to slip past when some clear-eyed madman rushed at me."
"They don't sound like ox-noses you can dismiss so lightly, do they?"
Ak Su-rim, who had her head tilted slightly downward, retorted bluntly. Beside her, Un So-yu, Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit, nodded.
"They are of the Seven Star Venerables of Taehwa. Superb experts chosen as the seven pillars of the Wudang Sect's Seven Stars Sword Formation. They are exceptionally strong."
Un So-yu's voice was low and quiet. At the same time, Ak Su-rim shook her head.
"What's so important that two of them came down? If the gate on Mount Wudang has been breached, ordinary experts wouldn't be enough to hold it. Is there something even more urgent than that?"
"It is because of our Sect Leader," Ju Se-hwa whispered softly. "After reaching the 'Peak of Perfection' a few years ago, while he was in the process of resolving a Demonic Possession—something that should never happen to a Taoist—he heard of something even more impossible."
"That is enough."
Cutting her off, Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head.
"Senior Jin, would you stop the fight?" he asked.
Jin Myeong-jo, who had been standing as if ready to tear Ju Se-hwa to shreds, fell silent for a moment.
His eyes, glowing with a red light like precious red jade, met Jeong Yeon-shin's gaze. Soon, Jin Myeong-jo spoke slowly.
"Will the organization of the Divine Sword Corps..."
"Please, speak freely."
"...ultimately be decided according to the Register of Names you brought, Lord Jeong?"
"I am sorry."
Jeong Yeon-shin clasped his hands toward Jin Myeong-jo over Ju Se-hwa's shoulder. His words were filled with deep conviction.
"Your junior believes it cannot possibly be more perfect than this. Please, help me."
"...I will be prepared."
Jin Myeong-jo did not question Jeong Yeon-shin's decision any further. Instead, he turned around immediately, his demeanor perfectly fitting the seat of the Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps.
Unlike the nobles of the Blood Flame Cult, whose breathing would grow ragged after prolonged exposure to Dharma Power, his slow walk out of the meeting hall carried a profound, grounded weight. His slightly sloped shoulders showed that he fully realized the heavy responsibility he was about to bear.
"Long Staff, you should leave as well. I will send word as soon as the meeting is over," Jeong Yeon-shin said, turning back to the round table.
He engraved the responsibility and consideration shown by the new Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps into his mind.
That, too, was a virtue the Acting Commander had to learn.
* * *
Before stepping back into the Jianghu, Jeong Yeon-shin settled the matters that needed to be addressed.
The overall organization of the 17th Unit of the Divine Sword Corps.
The current status of the martial units on missions in dangerous territories, including the Wish-Fulfilling Spring and the Dragon-Treading Unit.
The report from the Desolate Ma Clan stating that because their Jeong Family Dynamic Art had reached a significant level, they had suffered zero casualties other than those of the White Rank.
The welcome news that experts belonging to other subordinate clans wished to join the ranks of the Divine Sword Corps.
And even the new missions and deployment areas for the fortress experts currently remaining in the Desolate Fortress.
"Acting Commander, I apologize for the delay."
In the midst of this, the Commander of the Azure Sky Unit, the Temporary Commander of the Heaven-Aligned Wing, and the new Vice Commander of the Divine Sword Corps returned one by one and took their seats.
On both of Namgung Hwa-shin's cheeks, the palm print of the Azure Sky Unit's Swordless Soul-Shattering Palm and the claw marks of the Bloodkeeper Unit's Flash-Blood Claw Art were deeply engraved, but none of the Unit Commanders paid any close attention to those bruised and bleeding wounds.
"...Commander of the Forest-Treading Unit, please take charge of Hangzhou and its vicinity."
Time flew by. It passed so quickly that the wall Namgung Hwa-shin had completely smashed through earlier was now filled with the dark night air.
Swoosh—
As the winter wind swept the dust in the hall into pale swirls, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly met Ak Su-rim's gaze. Her eyes flickered with colorless lightning. The small face of the First Divine Spear of the Desolate Fortress held no particular expression.
"Senior Ak."
Throughout the meeting, she had spoken only when necessary. She did not raise her spear with her usual bravado. Even the corners of her eyes were slightly downturned.
"In my words and decisions," Jeong Yeon-shin continued carefully, "there is no jest. Even if I have disturbed your peace of mind due to my lack of talent in naming things."
"..."
"The matters we discussed today are the optimal organization that the Grand Steward and I debated."
"...You, even so..."
Whoosh!
The tips of Ak Su-rim's black hair brushed against her shoulders. It was the precursor to a wave of internal power. As someone whose depth of the Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak rivaled the very best among the Black Ranks, the turbulence in her heart manifested outwardly.
But Jeong Yeon-shin did not let her finish.
"From now on,"
"I formally object—"
"no one will die."
"What?"
"No one."
Jeong Yeon-shin murmured softly. It felt as though something inside him had grown blunt. His tone carried the heavy, unyielding temperament of a chipped blade.
"..."
The Acting Commander had spoken of the impossible. Yet, no one pointed it out or offered any advice.
They simply fell into a brief, collective silence. Ak Su-rim's lips also slowly closed.
"Whatever your title may be, it does not matter. Please protect the main fortress. Trusting in you, my seniors, I will briefly go to Mount Wudang to fulfill my duty."
There was no answer.
Only the wind howled along the cracked walls, which looked like parched earth in a drought. The hall was filled with the freezing air of midwinter.
Until, suddenly, the Master of the Martial Apex Hall conjured a flame of Samadhi True Fire in his palm.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin did not sleep.
After settling a few more matters that absolutely had to be finished, he emerged from the Inner Castle of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress around dawn.
Three people in total. The Long Staff and the other Wudang Sect experts, who still felt unfamiliar, were waiting for him.
"Let us go now."
Jeong Yeon-shin carried a stone box, slightly larger than a human head, wrapped in a silk cloth. It was a box carved from marble.
He had no other luggage.
Only a pure, clear fragrance filled his hand as he held the knot.
Though the heavy gazes of the Wudang Taoists fell upon the box, Jeong Yeon-shin cast his eyes past their shoulders.
For a woman in purple stood there, her long hair fluttering in a single stream amidst the mist mingled with bright sunlight.
"I still have the strength to move. You are my restorative medicine."
Shin Cheon-hwa gestured toward him with her chin.
"I will accompany you as far as Mount Wudang. I have a very bad feeling about this."
A faint curve formed on Jeong Yeon-shin's lips.
"Yes, that is fine," he replied calmly.
Though the Long Staff gave him a look of renewed curiosity, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly began to walk. The orange glow of dawn was gently painting the purple fabric covering his long legs.
It was the new year of his eighteenth year.
* * *
It did not take long for the group to arrive at Mount Wudang. Though they had run incredibly fast for several days and nights, to Jeong Yeon-shin, whose mind was filled with complex thoughts, it felt like only a brief moment.
It was also because, among all the Nine Sects in the world, the Wudang Sect was the closest to Xiangyang.
Even so, the immense distance was closed with dreamlike speed.
The foremost of the world's sword sects.
The birthplace of the Sambong Martial Lineage, said to be infinitely close to the absolute pinnacle of martial arts.
"..."
The first thing Jeong Yeon-shin saw upon that land was—
Rumble—!!
—the sight of a massive mountain peak splitting vertically along with the pale clouds.
A place where, to his knowledge, the Taoist temples of the Wudang Sect were densely clustered. It was a place that should never have been split like that.
Perhaps she had felt the exact same bewilderment as Jeong Yeon-shin for a moment; the cry of the Long Staff, Ju Se-hwa, rang out a beat too late.
"Sect Leader!"
Along with the voice that echoed like a reverberation, Jeong Yeon-shin kicked off the ground.
Whoosh!
A faint constellation was engraved upon the earth that Zhang Sanfeng had once trodden.
It was the propulsion shockwave of the Ten-Mile Light Grace.