Chapter 68: Reputation (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 68: Reputation (3)
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress stood outside the formation, yet her presence was unmistakable.
Their eyes seemed to meet, yet not quite, brushing past one another. It felt that way even though their gazes had clearly locked for a fleeting instant.
It was highly unusual. There was no reason for her to come all this way only to ignore Jeong Yeon-shin.
She simply stood there quietly. Sunlight fractured along the line of her slender, slightly tilted jaw.
Silence lingered for a moment. She did not turn her head back.
The silence enveloping the surroundings gradually began to morph into anxiety.
Could it be? Can she really not perceive me?
It was an unanticipated situation.
Even if the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation was an otherworldly masterpiece of formation arts, the Lord of the Desolate Fortress was a peerless master whose every movement exuded transcendence.
There is no way she would be deluded by a sorcery formation.
For the first time, Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes wavered.
He had maintained his composure even in the heart of the Blood Flame Cult's headquarters. But this time was different. He could not.
It was then.
—You can take more. I shall give you a day.
A whisper like a gentle breeze tickled his ear.
Rustle.
The moment she took a step—
It happened in an instant. Along with leaves fluttering like flower petals, she vanished.
It did not seem like a movement achievable by human body protection scriptures. Like a sudden gust of wind, she left no trace behind, as if she had never been there in the first place.
"..."
He had clearly felt her presence. He could not doubt his razor-sharp five senses.
His briefly wavering eyes quickly grew calm. Jeong Yeon-shin regained his composure incredibly fast.
I shall give you a day. It was a single sentence that warmly colored his heart, a heart that had been running tirelessly ever since he donned his blue martial uniform.
He could get out.
What I saw and heard was real.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress had come. That was an undeniable fact.
Her words were peculiar.
She seemed to want him to take what could only be obtained within the Blood Flame Cult.
Had she sensed his newly attained Mara Blood-Roaring Art?
Perhaps she had even perceived that he was channeling the subtle wonders of the formation into his Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand.
Take more?
Jeong Yeon-shin stopped paying attention to Go Jong-hak's tailing.
He lingered on the echo of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress's whisper in his ears for a long time. Then, very slowly, he fell into deep thought.
What more could he obtain?
His contemplation continued until his red robe was bathed in the faint light of the setting sun.
*
The day changed in the blink of an eye. He didn't even know how he had slept.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly stepped out of the house where he had been left alone since the Seventh Apostle's departure for the campaign. The words of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress refused to leave his mind.
Is there something to be gained by completely unraveling the mnemonics of the Blood Art? Or must I obtain something from the Cult Leader?
Lost in thought, he moved his feet. He had a destination.
He had received word early in the morning. It was a message requesting his presence at a banquet.
The Blood Flame Cult was also a place where humans lived. He knew this well, thanks to Go Jong-hak, the son of the Third Apostle.
There was jealousy and envy even among the cultists, and given the vast scale of their influence, they also enjoyed lavish banquets.
It was said that these were usually feasts accompanied by blood and corpses.
However, this was the first time he had been invited. They had requested a meeting, even bringing up the Cult Leader. He had no choice but to go.
It was no ordinary matter.
Go Jong-hak tailed me yesterday.
He must have seen traces of someone visiting outside the formation. Or perhaps he had caught a fleeting glimpse of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
Until now, the Blood Flame Cult had left Jeong Yeon-shin, who was nothing more than a prisoner, largely to his own devices.
Though it was under the pretext of protecting the Grand Preceptor's inspiration, they had neglected him to a bizarre degree.
Judging solely by how Jeong Yeon-shin was treated, it didn't feel like an unorthodox cult at all.
Today is the last day. Perhaps I will find out why.
Jeong Yeon-shin walked slowly. The brilliant glow of lanterns was already spreading across his vision.
"Did they call it the Wave Sect? The sect leader's brat had quite a fierce hand."
"I cut down his younger brother. His internal power was quite delicious. The blood, not so much."
It was a banquet held in the inner courtyard of the Cult Leader's Hall. There were many unorthodox bastards present.
They exchanged greetings, discussed the Blood Art and doctrines, and boasted of their exploits during raids on sects they had attacked to absorb true qi, treating them as heroic tales.
Their ferocious auras and mad words created the chaos unique to the unorthodox factions.
"Welcome, Grand Preceptor. To think you would grace the banquet requested by our family! We are simply deeply grateful."
Go Jong-hak stepped forward toward Jeong Yeon-shin, welcoming him with a feigned polite attitude. His mouth, however, told a different story. A faint sneer was etched upon it.
"The Grand Preceptor?"
"You're saying that Desolate Fortress trash has arrived?"
"Hasn't he failed to produce any clear results yet?"
"It's too early. Far too early."
This was a banquet of the leadership. It was different from the reactions of ordinary cultists. Their speech and behavior were far more uninhibited, and they did not bother to hide their auras.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt it the moment he arrived. There were no allies here.
Yet, he did not feel lonely. It felt as though the gentle presence of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress was enveloping his entire body. It had been that way since last night.
"They are just ignorant fools. Please pay them no mind," Go Jong-hak said.
His expression, however, said otherwise. Guiding Jeong Yeon-shin to the seat of honor, he fully revealed a satisfied face.
This is the place where we bring down this lowborn, Go Jong-hak thought.
The Grand Preceptor, Flash Art, had roamed many places within the cult for a month.
Although modifying martial arts was something ordinary people could hardly imagine, a prisoner treated with the respect of a Grand Preceptor had spent a month idling away, using "inspiration" as an excuse.
Even if they had granted him freedom of movement because of the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation, his behavior was excessive.
Naturally, he had been grating on the nerves of the Blood Flame Cult's high-ranking officials. And then yesterday's event occurred.
Go Jong-hak had seen it clearly.
He was certain from just her profile. A member of the Brightfolk had arrived near the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation and then vanished. He couldn't even trace the remnants of her body protection scripture. She was an incredibly formidable master.
He had immediately reported to his father, the Third Apostle, that the Grand Preceptor had been standing before her.
A mere Brightfolk wretch was a master of such super-ascension. Who knows what kind of sinister ability she possessed.
The Brightfolk, the backbone of the Beijing imperial court, were long-standing enemies of the Blood Flame Cult. They clashed frequently, experiencing all kinds of mysterious martial arts and incidents.
It was possible she had communicated with the Grand Preceptor using their unique ability.
The Third Apostle had requested a private audience with the Cult Leader. Immediately, the banquet was scheduled.
The thirty-six steps leading to the Cult Leader's Hall symbolized the authority of the Blood Flame Cult Leader.
It was extremely spacious. Even with luxurious seats arranged on each level, there was still room to spare.
"Isn't this a banquet of a scale rarely seen even in the headquarters?"
"Enjoy it. In places like this, a star of our cult usually falls."
The chatter of the onlookers was correct. This was a place to interrogate and depose someone who had tarnished the dignity of the cult's leadership.
It was an unparalleled opportunity.
Young Sect Leader? Ridiculous.
The corners of Go Jong-hak's mouth curled up high.
He clasped his hands and said,
"My Go family petitioned the Cult Leader to host this. A desire to treat the Grand Preceptor to a fine seat arose in us, albeit belatedly. There was insufficient time to send word in advance. I hope you will show understanding."
He masked his polite posture with a look of feigned regret.
His sharp-featured face was quite handsome. At a glance, he even seemed sincere.
Jeong Yeon-shin, quietly watching Go Jong-hak, smiled faintly.
The bastard's necklace caught his eye. A small piece of jade hung from it.
The Poison-Avoiding Bead.
He had heard about it from the bastard's own boasting.
It was a treasure possessed by only a few of the cult's leadership, bestowed upon the son by the Third Apostle.
It was said to be extremely rare, capable of neutralizing almost any poison instantly.
It would be quite useful when using the blood poison received from the Cult Leader.
Eyeing the Poison-Avoiding Bead, he spoke half-heartedly.
"I should just be glad to be invited."
Unlike when he first entered, his spirit was now hard to find. A strange gleam flashed in Go Jong-hak's eyes.
The bastard's eyes reflected the reactions of those around him. Many who had been on high alert seemed disappointed.
"Is it because the Seventh Apostle went out to battle?"
"Was he really just a useless parasite?"
Words and actions unimaginable in the Desolate Fortress or the orthodox Jianghu ran rampant.
No one stopped them. The Blood Flame Cult Leader, looking down from the seat of honor, also remained expressionless throughout.
"Those who needed to come have arrived. I shall deliver a congratulatory address," the Cult Leader said. His voice was low.
Silence fell in an instant. There was no need for him to infuse true qi into his voice or do anything to draw attention.
Jeong Yeon-shin perceived it clearly. There was not a single person in this vast banquet hall who was not a master.
The extraordinary senses of these unorthodox masters seemed to encompass the entire inner courtyard of the Cult Leader's Hall.
"You are the pillars of our cult. The day is approaching when you will unleash your extraordinary talents through your faith. We have brought in a Grand Preceptor who will blacken the vision of the foolish. He shall modify the Blood Art to wash away the hypocrisy of the world. So first, raise a cup."
The Blood Flame Cult Leader stroked his cup with long fingers, then picked it up very slowly and drank.
Only then did the masters looking up at him raise their respective cups.
"It is Dukang Wine. I heard the Grand Preceptor is from Henan; do you happen to know of it?" Go Jong-hak, sitting next to him, asked with a small smile.
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.
He seemed to recall hearing that his father enjoyed it back at the Jeong Family Manor, but since they had never shared a drink, he wasn't certain.
He did know it was a famous wine of Henan. It was said that Emperor Wu of Wei, Cao Mengde, enjoyed drinking it.
This place. The meaning of the wine is peculiar.
The aroma of the wine drifted and enveloped the banquet hall.
In front of the Blood Flame Cult Leader, who kept drinking the Dukang Wine, the atmosphere grew heavy. It felt as if he were drinking down the very ambition Cao Cao once harbored.
Tension hung in the air.
Everyone seemed to instinctively sense that blood would soon flow down the steps. Such was the meaning of a banquet held before the Cult Leader's Hall.
"Go Jong-hak."
The Blood Flame Cult Leader spoke. As he leaned slightly, his smooth white hair fell out of place.
His gaze brushed past Jeong Yeon-shin. His unnaturally crimson lips curled up slightly.
"Yes, Cult Leader."
Go Jong-hak quickly stepped out of his seat and prostrated himself.
The bastard lay flat with his head completely lowered, yet his broad, exposed back looked strangely triumphant.
The Cult Leader said,
"Interrogate him."
"I obey your command."
Rising immediately, Go Jong-hak turned around. His direction was clear. At the end of his gaze stood Jeong Yeon-shin.
The outcome is obvious, Jeong Yeon-shin thought. He had no intention of listening to a long-winded speech.
I have no time.
He had been given a day by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. The Seventh Apostle had also said as much.
Martial artists from the local Jianghu, including three of the Nine Sects, had arrived.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress, whom he had met yesterday, had sent a voice transmission through the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation.
The sorcery formation would shatter by the end of today. All kinds of martial artists would descend upon the Blood Flame Cult headquarters.
Just as Go Jong-hak cleared his throat, preparing to deliver an eloquent speech, and opened his lips—
"In short," Jeong Yeon-shin spoke first, "there has been no progress in modifying the Blood Summoning Art, and in the meantime, villains targeting the headquarters have brushed past the formation."
"..."
"A native of the Desolate Fortress became the Grand Preceptor, and the timing is terrible. You must have doubted whether I had any intention of cooperating."
"...The Grand Preceptor is not wrong."
Go Jong-hak placed his hands behind his back with feigned leisure. Just as the bastard opened his mouth to say something—
Jeong Yeon-shin raised his head toward the Blood Flame Cult Leader.
"I understand this gathering was held at the petition of Go Jong-hak and the Third Apostle."
"Speak," the Blood Flame Cult Leader gestured with his chin, a smooth smile playing on his lips.
Jeong Yeon-shin calmly continued.
"I am highly displeased. If I prove my utility here, may I take a precious treasure of the headquarters' Go Clan?"
"Insolent brat," muttered the Third Apostle, who sat on the level just below the Cult Leader.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not care.
"If I fail, you may take my head."
"It was something I had to ask you eventually anyway. I, too, was curious about your progress."
The Blood Flame Cult Leader replied with a dizzying, demonic smile.
The solemn atmosphere turned bizarre. A wager with one's head on the line was bound to excite people, regardless of the era.
Although Jeong Yeon-shin had exceptionally become the Grand Preceptor, none of the leadership treated him as direct lineage.
Unlike ordinary cultists, they possessed the power of bloodlines built over generations.
This meant their respect was bound to be double-edged, no matter how extraordinary Jeong Yeon-shin's talent was.
A spiritual beast to change the tide, or a consumable brought in from the outside.
It was time to evaluate the utility of this Desolate Fortress seed they had left free for a short while.
"Come here."
Jeong Yeon-shin gestured to a servant. He was an ordinary cultist.
The red-haired servant, not daring to defy the Grand Preceptor's words, approached.
"Sit down and receive my energy."
The servant immediately sat cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes. There was a blind madness in his posture.
He seemed almost indifferent, as if he wouldn't care even if Jeong Yeon-shin were to kill him.
"..."
An untimely session of qi meditation unfolded in the banquet hall.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently leaned forward slightly. Slowly placing his hand on the servant's back, he activated his Blood Art.
A month had passed since he arrived at the headquarters. It was more than enough time to modify a few lines of the mnemonics, just in case.
Jeong Yeon-shin's Blood Art true qi flowed into the servant's body.
The reaction was instantaneous.
"Huh?"
"What in the world...?"
It was a miracle. Something unprecedented in the history of the Blood Flame Cult was taking place.
The bright red hair rapidly began to dye pitch-black. It was the moment the centuries-old Blood Summoning Art underwent a cataclysmic transformation.
The masters who had been throwing all sorts of remarks at Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed dryly in sheer disbelief.
The duration of the change was astonishingly brief.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly withdrew his hand.
The servant grabbed his black hair, which now fell to his shoulders, to check. His expressionless face shattered instantly.
"Grand Preceptor, O Grand Preceptor... Have I... for the first time, embodied a miracle...?" he muttered, his body trembling violently.
Jeong Yeon-shin was not looking at him.
He couldn't precisely fathom what the Lord of the Desolate Fortress had meant.
If so, he simply had to take whatever caught his eye first—before the various martial artists of the Jianghu stormed this place today.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head and looked at Go Jong-hak. Did the madmen of the Blood Flame Cult have a different blood flow as well?
It was his first time seeing a person's face turn truly pale with fright. Even his hands had slipped from behind his back.
Slowly, he opened his lips.
"The Poison-Avoiding Bead around your neck."
Whoosh!
At this moment, he intentionally unleashed the Mara Blood-Roaring Art. The blood-red robe enveloping his body began to flutter wildly.
Along with a sinister wave, a chilling aura spread from his entire body.
"Present it to me now," said the young Grand Preceptor of the Blood Flame Cult.