Chapter 59: Hero of the Desolate Fortress (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 59: Hero of the Desolate Fortress (2)
"I'm Dan Jeong-jeong!"
He had learned the girl's name on his way out of Pingyin County.
Dan Jeong-jeong was a mere commoner who had her acupoints sealed and had been dragged around by the scruff of her neck by a martial artist. Anyone would have worried about the lingering trauma.
Jeong Yeon-shin had been inwardly concerned, but there was no need. She remained perfectly composed after her release.
Even after witnessing the absolute carnage wrought by the Demonlight Wing, her spirit remained resilient.
"Do you know how delicious spring-dried fuzhu is?"
She had been consistently warm toward her peer, Jeong Yeon-shin, even offering him some of the dried tofu skin. However, he had only taken a single bite before leaving Pingyin County.
He doubted they would ever meet again. With that kind of temperament and mental fortitude, he figured she would get along just fine no matter where she went.
"Husband material like our Flash Art is as good as it gets."
Was he trying to repeat the teasing from the Heavenly Sword House?
Cheong-myeong smirked as he spoke, but this time, there was no one to banter with him. Before, he would have traded barbs with Heonwon Chang. Not anymore.
Whoosh!
The moment they cleared Pingyin County, they burst into a sprint. The lightfoot techniques of the three Blue-Ranked experts of the Demonlight Wing whipped up violent gusts of wind.
Their destination had been set the instant they received the letter. But Jeong Yeon-shin was different from his Blue-Ranked seniors, who possessed vast reserves of internal energy. To travel such a long distance, he needed to secure a swift horse from a post station.
Cheong-myeong and Baek Mi-ryeo also agreed, preferring to use the post roads to conserve their internal energy.
An untimely cloud of dust billowed across the official road. The brown dirt kicking up behind and beside them spoke volumes of their urgency.
Kicking off the ground alongside his two companions, Jeong Yeon-shin asked, "Are those martial clans strong enough to defeat five White-Ranked warriors? A typical sect shouldn't have posed a problem for them, unless their opponent was one of the Nine Sects or the Eight Great Families. Though, their prior battle with the Blood Flame Cult must have taken a toll..."
The wind whipped violently against them due to their rapid pace, forcing him to infuse his voice with true qi just to be heard.
Cheong-myeong's reply came back, carrying the distinct, resonant hum of internal energy. "They couldn't fight at full strength. That much is obvious, considering some of them were dragged away alive."
Jeong Yeon-shin let out a soft sigh.
Cheong-myeong's words immediately brought a specific memory to mind—the time he had mentioned a solo mission and brought up the Heavenly Sword House. He knew all too well how a rattled brain could affect a battle between experts.
"Was it because of the aftereffects of my sound art...?"
"It's because those White-Ranked youngsters had shallow martial arts. If you aren't stronger than your enemy, you have no choice but to leave your life in their hands. That is the Jianghu."
Cheong-myeong's words were cold. Baek Mi-ryeo, running beside them with her usual indifferent expression, spoke up.
"Regardless, it is a mess for the Blue-Ranked experts to clean up. We must split up at the post station. The main fortress has no leeway to send help. Exterminating one of the Eight Great Families is no small feat, so we must handle this ourselves."
"You said they headed down to Southern Zhili? The Blood Ghosts."
"There are many routes to consider. About four paths," Cheong-myeong said.
As a member of the Brightfolk at the Desolate Fortress, his mind held a treasure. It was said he possessed a mental map of the Central Plains more valuable than most martial arts manuals.
This kind of knowledge was a privilege on par with the Black Rank Unit Commanders. He was unlike Jeong Yeon-shin, who was only briefed on localized geography for each specific mission.
"The Blood Flame Cult, and the martial clans."
Jeong Yeon-shin fell silent for a moment, muttering the names of their enemies.
He recalled when he had first entered the fortress after passing the Desolate Fortress Entrance Exam. A scholar from the Chief Steward's Office had told him:
Though the Desolate Fortress is called the sword of the imperial court, a martial artist harming a warrior of the Desolate Fortress does not constitute treason.
This was because they were not soldiers directly belonging to the imperial court. It was also a pragmatic concession to the elusive lightfoot techniques and movement arts of hostile martial artists.
In the early days of the dynasty's founding, there had been cases where the court declared it would exterminate nine generations of a family for treason, yet completely failed to capture the culprits. When equating state affairs with the suppression of martial artists, there was simply too high a risk of damaging the imperial court's dignity.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly asked, "But isn't the Desolate Fortress the greatest power in the Jianghu? What gave those clans the confidence to launch a surprise attack?"
"It's one of two things. Our methods are quite ruthless, aren't they? They probably thought their children wouldn't survive otherwise. When parents lose their minds, what wouldn't they do? Though, I'm sure there were some clan heads who simply abandoned their children."
"And the other?"
"They know. They know the Desolate Fortress has no leeway."
"Hmm."
"It's because of that kind of insight that the warriors of our main fortress die in foreign lands. There are two types of sects that dare to oppose the Desolate Fortress: small-to-medium sects that think their tiny world is everything, and large sects that closely observe the ways of the world."
"It's only the mediocre ones who wouldn't dare touch the main fortress," Cheong-myeong muttered.
Jeong Yeon-shin studied his face as he spoke of dying in foreign lands. Cheong-myeong's handsome features were completely devoid of expression.
He was a senior known to have a highly promising future. Even if he went around saying people died because they deserved to, no one would dare criticize him. Seeing him quietly seething beneath such a calm exterior felt deeply unfamiliar.
Cheong-myeong spoke again. "There are seventeen martial units under the Divine Sword Corps, right? Our Demonlight Wing is considered one of the top forces even within the Corps. We're often compared to the elite of the Nine Sects, like the Plum Blossom Sword Masters. The problem is the number seventeen. It's highly ambiguous."
Just then, Baek Mi-ryeo silently glided over and patted Jeong Yeon-shin's head.
She seemed to have taken a liking to doing that ever since Jeong Yeon-shin had called her "sister" during the Purple Grace Pill mission. Her touch was cool and gentle. Even while sprinting at such high speeds, her hand remained perfectly steady.
Running her fingers deep through his hair, she spoke. "The problem is that we have to watch over the entire Central Plains. Governing a Jianghu the size of fifteen or sixteen small nations? It's an absurd duty. We are always short-handed."
"Any sect with decent information-gathering and insight knows this. They are rarely afraid."
Cheong-myeong chimed in, already beginning to accelerate his lightfoot technique.
The howling of the wind against their ears grew louder.
Jeong Yeon-shin channeled more true qi into the Yongquan points on the soles of his feet and spoke. "This mission will have massive repercussions. Sparing precious forces to wipe out one of the Eight Great Families..."
"Indeed. It's something that won't easily happen again."
They already took the extermination of the Hwangbo Clan as a foregone conclusion. It wasn't just because they had witnessed the strength of three martial units firsthand. They had already done their part for the mission. Their minds were elsewhere.
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke cautiously. "...I don't understand why they dragged them away instead of killing them. Is Young Hero Heonwon still alive?"
"Normally, it would have ended in death," Cheong-myeong replied. "If you defeat a warrior of the Desolate Fortress, you silence them to destroy the evidence. Who would leave them alive? That's why taking them alive is a completely different story. There must be an underlying intention."
Heonwon Chang and two other White-Ranked warriors had been captured. It was not the work of an Orthodox martial clan. The clans had no need to invite future trouble when all they had to do was smuggle their children away. No, they had been taken by the Blood Flame Cult.
"An intention?"
At Jeong Yeon-shin's question, Baek Mi-ryeo's dark eyes glanced at him. Cheong-myeong's blue eyes did the same.
"I suspect they are the ones who have been pursuing us since the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. Their movements align perfectly."
"The captured White-Ranks might just be a means to an end. Perhaps the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand is the real issue? It looks like they're determined to kill you by any means necessary."
It made sense.
These were people who had even resorted to using Thunderbolt Bombs. His seniors' speculation struck him with sharp clarity.
'If I create another counter-martial art against bastards like the Thirteen Heavens...'
The phrase "silencing to destroy evidence" crossed Jeong Yeon-shin's mind. However, it was hard to be certain that this was done solely to target the Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress.
This was why the group had to split up and scour the northern part of Southern Zhili.
Discussing their routes, they arrived at the post station. It was a place where imperial officials rested during their journeys. They lightly leaped over the large roof and descended into the courtyard.
As the youngest, Jeong Yeon-shin stepped forward. He flashed his Desolate Fortress Token to the caretaker, who startled awake from a doze.
"It's genuine! Please, take them!"
Mounting the borrowed horse immediately, Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself:
To think we can requisition the state's post stations so easily, yet we aren't even part of the imperial court.
The same went for the privileges of Cheong-myeong and the Black Rank Unit Commanders, who held the authority to execute officials.
The Great Ming Code is meaningless. There are so many things above the law.
The affairs of the world were complex, but now was not the time to worry about them. They had to split up immediately.
"Finding the White-Ranks is the priority, but make sure you don't get caught up in the power struggle. The Namgung Clan is currently at war with the Blood Flame Cult. The Unorthodox bastards have laid a Net of Heaven and Earth in Huizhou, right in their own backyard. They're bound to go wild."
His tone was light. Cheong-myeong, casually stretching his legs from atop his horse, winked.
Jeong Yeon-shin was accustomed to listening closely to his seniors' words. Even if they didn't sound important at first, he treated them as such. He took everything as directly linked to his life and future achievements.
"Since they were captured by the Blood Ghosts, they should be kept alive for about ten days," Baek Mi-ryeo said, mounting her swift horse with elegant movements. "Those bastards extort true qi through their Blood Arts. A warrior of the main fortress is a rare feast for them."
She brushed aside the ebony hair falling past her ears and looked at Jeong Yeon-shin, her obsidian eyes filled with concern.
"What is there to worry about?" Cheong-myeong chuckled, gesturing with his chin. "The extermination of the Hwangbo branch family will be recorded under the Flash Art's achievements. It's more than enough to qualify you for solo missions."
It was time to part ways.
Offering a brief fist-and-palm salute from atop his horse, Jeong Yeon-shin whipped his mount and rode off without looking back. It was a consecutive mission.
He had been told that rescuing comrades would also be recorded as an achievement, but that didn't hold much meaning to him. At this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin's heart was not set on achievements.
He only hoped Heonwon Chang would remain safe until the day he was hailed as the Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress.
*
Heading south from Pingyin County, Jeong Yeon-shin immediately crossed into Southern Zhili.
Using Cheong-myeong's spirit beast as a messenger, the Blue-Ranked experts, having finished their primary mission, decided to scatter across the vast expanse of Southern Zhili. They possessed a fundamental confidence in their martial prowess. After all, theirs was a rank that allowed them to undertake solo missions.
Reinforcements would inevitably be late. Huguang, where the main fortress of the Desolate Fortress was located, was simply too far away. The Hwangbo Clan expeditionary force had to resolve this themselves.
The city is magnificent.
He had been assigned to Xuzhou in Southern Zhili.
Five days had passed since he parted ways with his senior Blue-Ranks of the Demonlight First Team. He went around flashing his Desolate Fortress Token to the county magistrates at the local government offices, inquiring about anyone acting suspiciously.
He was told there were Blood Flame Cultists roaming the city as if they feared nothing under heaven. Such was the overbearing might of the Unorthodox Thirteen Heavens. He heard that even when soldiers stepped forward to capture them, the cultists would easily evade using swift movement arts. Or worse, they would unleash their energy waves to threaten the soldiers in return.
As the cult's influence grew, the Blood Ghosts behaved with utter insolence. Their actions in Huizhou, where they blatantly ignored the Namgung Clan to carry out their deeds, were proof of this. It was said that the cult's once-strict discipline was degenerating into sheer lawlessness.
The timeframe Baek Mi-ryeo had estimated was rapidly shrinking. It was a pressing situation.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood before what was said to be the largest pleasure house in the city. The five-colored lanterns hanging above and below the main gates glowed brilliantly in the evening light.
If the bastards aren't here...
He cleared his mind for now.
This city, Xuzhou, was large. The martial artists guarding the entrance seemed to possess decent knowledge of the Jianghu. They recognized the character 'Hwang' of the Desolate Fortress etched on his token.
"Hwang? Is it that Hwang?"
"But he's so young?"
The five guards hesitated, unsure of what to do. Paying them no mind, Jeong Yeon-shin pushed the doors wide open.
Clack!
The antique wooden doors swung open to both sides, revealing an amber-lit interior.
He had heard that the first floor of such a massive pleasure house was a place where guests openly socialized. In an instant, numerous gazes swept over Jeong Yeon-shin. He could feel the weight of internal energy in their stares. They were all martial artists.
"Who is that child?"
"Hwang? Is he pretending to be from the Desolate Fortress?"
"Boy! There is a time and place for bravado!"
"And he's wearing blue, no less!"
A boisterous burst of laughter erupted through the hall.
Beyond the windows that shut out the twilight, all kinds of people gathered amidst the warm lantern light. Southern Zhili's Xuzhou was a city known for having an unusually high number of small-to-medium martial clans. This was because the Namgung Clan, which influenced the entirety of Southern Zhili, was situated just below it. It was firmly the territory of the Orthodox Factions.
The complexions of the roughly fifty people present varied. Some were flushed red with drink, while others looked sharp and sober.
"I've never seen someone like him before."
"Tell us your sect, boy!"
Women carrying weapons looked at Jeong Yeon-shin and laughed. Their relaxed postures showed they were completely at ease. Looking closely, there were very few courtesans. It seemed women from various martial clans were also present.
The entire first floor was being used as a grand banquet hall. Elegantly decorated, Xuzhou's finest pleasure house was indeed gracefully luxurious. It was grand enough for men and women of the Jianghu to socialize freely, regardless of age.
This was his first time seeing such a gathering since the great war between the Hegemon Sword Sect and the Zhongnan Sect. To Jeong Yeon-shin, a place packed with so many unfamiliar martial artists felt strange.
Step.
He took a step forward. The quiet footstep, seemingly insignificant, carried a strange, oppressive weight. Something that transcended mere hearing and touched their very sense of qi drew everyone's gaze. He was releasing his aura.
"......."
With each subsequent step, a heavy silence began to wash over the room.
A Blue-Ranked expert of the Desolate Fortress.
It was an aura that commanded absolute silence, even without conscious intent. Those who had been tossing out mocking remarks snapped their mouths shut. A swelling curiosity and silent shock spread through the hall.
Jeong Yeon-shin walked straight ahead. In his field of vision, figures seated in the corner were rising to their feet, one by one.
Though they blended in with the crowd, he recognized them instantly. With each passing day, his mastery over the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand grew. He was becoming extremely sensitive to sinister true qi.
"There is a branch office here," he said aloud.
He knew by the sheer size of their auras. There was one Blood Master Sword and five Blood Flame Cultists.
"Since you scatter like fire ants, there must be branches everywhere. You won't be the only ones."
He did not slow his pace even as he spoke.
The young man grinning with considerable confidence in his martial prowess was the Blood Master Sword. He was a handsome youth with an unblemished face.
The bastard smirked. "So you're that brat? Since I never neglect to offer sacrifices, fortune has finally smiled upon me! Your head will take me one step closer to the realm of an Apostle!"
Ignoring him, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke. "You must really want to kill the master of the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand."
The moment he channeled the mnemonic infused with Buddhist mantras, a refreshing energy swept away the stale smell of alcohol in the pleasure house. A pure, profound aura began to radiate from his slightly lowered right hand. A faint blue glow enveloped his straightened hand-blade.
It was a pure, unadulterated blue that refused to blend with the warm amber light of the surrounding lanterns.
"You bastard!"
A sinister aura exploded from the Blood Master Sword. The fingertips gripping the hilt at his waist blurred into motion.
He drew his sword in a vicious upward slash that looked like a geyser of blood. The sudden, sweeping shockwave of his blade was as fierce as a tempest. It was an achievement worthy of a man striving to become a Blood Flame Cult Apostle.
Jeong Yeon-shin met him, striking down with his Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand. His form was clear and straightforward. A smooth smile formed on the bastard's lips. He clearly intended to sever the very hand aiming for his head.
Thud!
It was not the sound of a collision, but of absolute shattering. The fierce wind of force emitted from the bastard's sword was instantly crushed.
In a mere half-move, Jeong Yeon-shin completely shattered the sinister aura and reduced the steel sword to splinters. He followed his straight trajectory all the way down. The split-second strike found its mark right at the bastard's head.
Crack!
Jeong Yeon-shin felt it through the edge of his hand. The strike had penetrated incredibly deep. Accompanied by fragments of blue force, the crown of the bastard's skull completely caved in.
"......."
Brushing past his shoulder, the lifeless body collapsed to the floor. The arrogant grin remained frozen on its face.
Behind him stood the four remaining Blood Flame Cultists. Had they intended to rush forward together? Their faces were stuck in expressions that were hard to describe. They stood frozen in half-stances, completely unable to launch their attacks.
Their branch leader had just died in a single move.
The surrounding martial artists, who had jumped to their feet upon sensing the distinct, foul aura of the Blood Flame Cult, also remained utterly speechless.
"Pass on a message," Jeong Yeon-shin said.
"The Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing is here."
He spoke bluntly and flicked his hand. His blue sleeve fluttered once in the silent hall.