Chapter 62: The Blood Flame Cult
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 62: The Blood Flame Cult
The day before the group departed from Xuzhou was exceptionally clear.
Brilliant spring sunlight cast a vivid glow over Jeong Yeon-shin's dark eyebrows.
He had just returned from the government office, having sent word to his seniors. He had updated Cheong-myeong and the others scattered across Southern Zhili on their progress—a feat only made possible by the Desolate Fortress's vast intelligence network.
The county magistrate had expressed some reluctance, warning that the messages would take time to arrive. Yeon-shin had also wanted to send a courier to Shandong Province, where the main force was likely stationed, but crossing an entire province meant he couldn't expect a swift delivery.
'It can't be helped.'
Leaving the government office behind, Jeong Yeon-shin weighed another pressing concern. Heonwon Chang's mobility was severely compromised. With his body ravaged by internal injuries, putting him on a horse or in a violently jolting carriage wasn't a decision to be made lightly.
'How should I transport him?'
Deep in thought, Jeong Yeon-shin returned to the guest room. On the bed lay the Hero of the Desolate Fortress, his eyes narrowed to slits.
Before the door even clicked shut, Heonwon Chang shifted slightly. Meeting Yeon-shin's gaze, he grinned.
"This is truly agonizing."
"And here I was, worrying about the esteemed health of the Hero of the Desolate Fortress," Jeong Yeon-shin retorted playfully.
The corners of Heonwon Chang's mouth curled higher. He looked as though he would never tire of hearing that title. Indeed, many commoners were already lingering outside the inn, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Hero of the Desolate Fortress, Heonwon Chang.
"I've become a burden."
"Great Hero Sword Dragon is waiting."
"Hmm? Great Heroine Wiji?"
Jeong Yeon-shin recounted the conversation he had shared with her. Instantly, Heonwon Chang's face contorted into a ghastly expression.
"Young Hero Jeong, your heart is as vast as the ocean. I am deeply moved! But you must not do this. The Blood Flame Cult waging war against the Eight Great Families? There is no way they haven't dispatched an Apostle. Didn't you see the martial prowess of the Seventh Apostle with your own eyes?"
"She lost an eye to my hand," Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly, leaning against the wall. He slowly caressed the hilts of the Northern Light Sword and the Desolate Fortress Sword in turn before continuing. "Lending a hand will be enough. It's not as if the experts of the Namgung Clan will be sitting idle, either."
They exchanged a few more words.
'There's no reason not to do it.'
Jeong Yeon-shin had already made up his mind. This was the perfect way to accumulate merit while also protecting his comrade's martial arts.
Heonwon Chang could not overcome his stubbornness. After all, the Hero of the Desolate Fortress was an expert of the Demonlight Wing. Though he appeared lax on the outside, his tactical instincts for battle were superb. He realized that the longer they bickered, the less time Jeong Yeon-shin would have.
"First you save my life, and now you place me in your debt as a martial artist as well." Heonwon Chang closed and opened his eyes, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. "So, Young Hero Jeong, your dilemma is this: how to transport a living corpse like me to Huizhou."
"...They say we have about a month, but traveling from Huizhou back up to Xuzhou doesn't leave us with much time."
"Do not worry about that!" Despite his severe internal injuries, his voice remained robust. Heonwon Chang grinned. "There is a reason why a martial artist who has suffered Qi Deviation and disrupted their energy pathways is so vulnerable to physical shock. It is because of the rigid intent ingrained in their circulation of True Qi from years of training. Trying to regulate internal energy as they normally would becomes a poison, completely oblivious to the fact that their body is already in ruins."
"And?"
"My family possesses a secret version of the Turtle Breathing Technique. And it is no ordinary method. It freezes even the flow of True Qi to protect the internal meridians. Since it is an assassin's secret technique, its stability is unparalleled, even over long periods."
He spoke of an assassin's technique while calling it his family's secret.
'The Turtle Breathing Technique?'
It was a stealth martial art, using internal energy to slow one's breathing and heartbeat while completely concealing one's True Qi. It was a discipline of the stealth category, examples of which were also stored in the Desolate Fortress's martial library.
'An assassin's secret technique,' Jeong Yeon-shin repeated to himself.
It was absurd for assassins to form a noble clan. However, it was entirely possible that an assassin had washed their hands in a golden basin, retiring from the Jianghu to start a family. Since this was the first time Heonwon Chang had shared even a sliver of his family history, Jeong Yeon-shin simply nodded without showing any outward reaction.
A faint sense of relief seemed to flicker in Heonwon Chang's eyes. He slowly continued.
"Even if I were buried underground, as long as there is a breathing hole, I will be fine. The jolting of a carriage is nothing. There is no need to worry about me. You, Young Hero Jeong, must go and display your martial prowess."
"An injured man who can hide himself safely... If transport is no longer an issue, that would indeed be a great relief."
"Of course! This Divine Hero of the Desolate Fortress will never be a burden to anyone!" Heonwon Chang laughed boisterously, only to choke and cough as if blood were rising in his throat.
Shaking his head, Jeong Yeon-shin pushed himself off the wall and left the room once more.
After stopping by the government office to rent a fine horse and a carriage, he explained the situation to Wiji Myo-hwa.
At the mention of the Turtle Breathing Technique, her expression clouded over. She was, after all, the successor of one of the Nine Sects, the pinnacle of the Orthodox Faction. There was no way she would welcome an assassin's martial art.
"...The two of you are righteous heroes. I will guard the rear."
Fortunately, Wiji Myo-hwa possessed a grand character. She was a great hero who did not judge a person by their martial arts.
Jeong Yeon-shin expressed his gratitude with a cupped-fist salute. Thus, the two of them and one half-corpse set out on their journey.
*
The distance from Xuzhou to Huizhou was by no means short. They were traveling from the northernmost tip of Southern Zhili to its southernmost end.
Along the way, they encountered numerous bandits. These were not the Green Forest bandits of the Jianghu. They were merely commoners driven by famine to turn their plows into weapons of murder.
Moreover, famine was not the only disaster plaguing the land. Perhaps due to the uprising of the Blood Flame Cult, the closer they drew to Huizhou, the more bandits they encountered.
"What else would the Unorthodox Factions live on? They do nothing but sink their teeth into the spines of the common folk."
Surprisingly, those words came from Wiji Myo-hwa. Whenever the Blood Flame Cult was mentioned, a sharp edge crept into her eyes. It seemed their bond had grown slightly closer through the trials of their long journey.
Whenever the bandits did not actively seek to take lives, they simply drove them away with sheer intimidation. Before they knew it, they had reached their destination.
"We have arrived," Wiji Myo-hwa said.
The two of them had indeed just buried Heonwon Chang in the ground nearby. They had done so because a fierce battle was inevitable.
Jeong Yeon-shin gazed past the men guarding the entrance of the canyon. This was the border between Chizhou and Huizhou. It was known as Clear Night Valley.
From afar, he could occasionally feel the shockwaves of colliding forces. As expected, this was no ordinary skirmish.
"You there."
The figures in the distance approached. All five of them had red hair. Their identities were obvious even before they drew near. One of them took the lead—a bald man with a square jaw.
The aura brushing against Jeong Yeon-shin's skin was remarkably strong; he seemed to be an ordinary cultist on the verge of reaching the realm of the Blood Master Sword. To an untrained eye, his martial prowess might even be mistaken for that of a Blood Master Sword.
The man spoke.
"You two look rather unusual, traveling with such a fine horse and carriage. Leave everything you have right here and turn back."
A finely crafted carriage was a luxury item. Anyone would guess they carried ample travel funds. The bandits they met along the way had thought the same.
However, the Blood Flame Cultists stopped ten paces away. They didn't draw any closer, strictly maintaining their distance.
'As expected of the Thirteen Heavens of the Unorthodox Factions,' Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
The leader was quite sharp. He seemed to have sensed something from Jeong Yeon-shin and Wiji Myo-hwa. Some of the bandits they had encountered earlier had lacked such sense; they had recklessly charged forward, hoping to lay their hands on Wiji Myo-hwa, only to end up sprawled on the ground.
"Desolate... Blue Rank...?" another cultist muttered, sidestepping slightly. He had a sharp eye.
The cultists immediately began to chatter.
"A Blue Rank of the Desolate Fortress? At his age?"
"He must be from some prestigious family, raised on a steady diet of spirit medicines. Watch out for a single, decisive strike. His internal power is bound to be monstrous. One wrong move and we're dead."
"That's all it is. We just need to overwhelm him with technique. What a magnificent prey."
They babbled amongst themselves. This was the true face of the Blood Flame Cult. They valued the mass of internal energy they could absorb far more than their own lives. They were already making wild assumptions based solely on Jeong Yeon-shin's youthful appearance.
'They don't know who I am.'
A strange gleam flickered in Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes. He seemed to have discovered a weakness of the Blood Flame Cult.
These men were ordinary cultists, not Blood Master Swords. Fire ants. They vastly outnumbered the Blood Master Swords. A cult of fanatics was a place where absolute obedience to superiors was strictly enforced. When the higher-ups commanded, the subordinates obeyed. There was no freedom. Consequently, information did not circulate easily.
The cultists began to stride forward. Eventually, one of them even activated his lightness skill and dashed ahead. It was as if he were declaring that finders were keepers.
Wiji Myo-hwa stepped forward. The moment her palm struck the solar plexus of the leading cultist, a dense wave of True Qi erupted from the point of impact.
Boom!
Dust and dirt scattered in all directions. A shockwave like a gale-force wind swept through, clawing even at the surrounding rocks. The other cultists who had charged alongside him were thrown back miserably.
Jeong Yeon-shin dashed forward, cutting through the residual force of the Zhongnan Sect's Azure Cloud Heavenly Gang Hand. He knew that the battle between the Namgung Clan and the Blood Flame Cult was unfolding just ahead.
Without hesitation, he reached out with his left hand and grabbed a cultist by the face. It was the bald man, the one closest to the realm of the Blood Master Sword.
"Urgh!"
Lately, the only part of Jeong Yeon-shin that betrayed his actual age was his face. His body, tempered by the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, had accelerated through the passage of time. Recently, his physical growth had been astonishing. He was already close to a fully grown adult.
His fingers were long enough to completely wrap around the man's face. This meant that by channeling his internal energy, he could easily run while palming a grown man's head.
Thud!
A tempest erupted beneath his feet as they struck the earth. The moment he propelled himself forward, he felt it. From the sharply defined quadriceps on both sides of his thighs, the layered True Qi of the Scripture of Initial Overcoming surged forth.
It was time.
Boom!
He sprinted, dragging the man by his face. The canyon scenery before him blurred into hundreds of streaking lines.
Whoosh!
The wind whipped violently against his ears, roaring with immense force.
'If I am to establish a prominent military merit, shouldn't it be as spectacular as possible?' He had long thought so.
Jeong Yeon-shin drew his sword even as his lightness skill whipped up a gale. The sunlight shimmered in silver ripples along the wavy patterns of the blade.
His entry into the battlefield took but a mere instant. The bottom of the canyon opened up as wide as a plain. Hundreds of people swarmed below, flaunting their martial prowess. The feast of formidable martial arts generated an oppressive aura akin to a war of thousands.
He paid it no mind. Jeong Yeon-shin leaped down in a single bound, hurling the man he was holding.
Crash!
"W-What is that?"
"Who goes there!"
It was the Body Protection Scripture of the Brightfolk, which seemed to wrap him in the wind itself. Jeong Yeon-shin's blue robes fluttered elegantly, like the vestments of an immortal.
Hummmm!
At that moment, the Northern Light Sword was already vibrating with a resonant hum. The Blood Flame Cultists, who had plagued him so relentlessly, began to spew blood and collapse.
Thud!
He intentionally stamped the ground with force. The thick cloud of dust that rose was instantly torn to shreds by the storm of shockwaves he unleashed.
Upon landing, he sprinted once more. Following the path of Jeong Yeon-shin's Northern Light Sword, the flow of the battlefield warped in an instant. As if an invisible typhoon had expanded with him at its center, bodies were sent flying in every direction.
Most died instantly. This was a level of power that transcended what should have been possible for someone of his age. Fortunately, the sword technique's mnemonic he had adjusted beforehand ensured that none of the Namgung Clan members fell victim to his strikes.
He pierced through the battlefield in a straight line. In the blink of an eye, he reached the area where the leadership of the Namgung Clan was gathered.
A kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across the faces of the gathered figures: an exceptionally handsome man with a gentle impression, a vibrant woman with sun-bronzed skin, a middle-aged man of overwhelming presence, and several elders.
It was then.
"Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing. You've managed to return."
"I still vividly remember your dazed, soulless face, yet you've brought back some bizarre martial arts."
Turning around, he saw familiar faces sneering. They did so even while knowing Jeong Yeon-shin's identity. They were Blood Master Swords, possessing glossy black and red hair. The combined aura the two of them exuded was extraordinary.
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at them in silence. A scene played out vividly before his eyes. The memory could never fade, for it was the very first time in his life he had run away.
He understood why they wore such mocking expressions. They were the ones who had stood at the forefront during the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, hurling Thunderbolt Bombs at him. Every single one of them was mad. They didn't seem to care in the slightest how many ordinary cultists died.
"Did you think you could achieve something just because you're with the Namgung Clan?" one of them said. He held a Thunderbolt Bomb in his hand, retrieved as silently as a concealed weapon.
The surrounding martial artists flinched noticeably.
At the moment the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering was ruined, Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been at the Lotus Pavilion in Huizhou, had been just like them.
Step.
This time was different. Jeong Yeon-shin did not stop; he kept advancing. Even without looking back, he knew. The absolute strongest experts of the Namgung Clan would be watching him.
He slowly parted his lips.
"You bastards. You need to understand one thing clearly."
Sheathing the Northern Light Sword, he simultaneously drew the familiar Desolate Fortress Sword. The transition between sheathing and drawing flowed seamlessly.
It was the bearing of an expert that anyone would recognize. The blade of the Desolate Fortress Sword naturally revealed itself, catching the sunlight. He adjusted his grip on the hilt. The icy sensation instantly turned hot.
"Since you are the ones throwing first, you are the rebels. I am innocent."
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly.