Chapter 70: Reputation (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 70: Reputation (5)
Immediately after Go Jong-hak's neck snapped in the hands of the Young Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
The Third Apostle did not care about his son's death. He had surely departed for the Peach Blossom Spring.
Blood Flame Cultists did not mourn the deceased. It was the trivial matters of the mortal world that truly stoked their wrath.
"Lowly bastard."
A mere insect of the Desolate Fortress had spoken out of turn. Though his talent was unprecedented, his martial power was not yet enough to shake the world.
These were merely the antics of a creature that was still nothing more than a bug.
"Bring him to me," the Blood Flame Cult Leader commanded softly.
Resting his chin on his hand from where he sat in his Grandmaster's Chair, his silver-white hair cascaded down like a waterfall.
His expression was unreadable. At the very least, he didn't seem to be contemplating an immediate execution.
This cannot be allowed, the Third Apostle thought.
This lowborn brat from the Desolate Fortress was incredibly dangerous. His innate talent was unfathomable, and his temperament was utterly wild.
To commit such insolence right in front of the Cult Leader while possessing a talent rarely seen under heaven... if left alone, he would grow into an uncontrollable monster.
I must nip him in the bud.
He spoke using Qi Voice Transmission, sending highly secretive telepathic messages to multiple people at once.
It took only a split second. Although the infuriated elders were rushing at the brat, they wouldn't be able to handle him with just the caliber of the Blood Master Swordsmen.
The boy possessed Dharma Power martial arts and had even mastered the Mara Blood-Roaring Art. The swordsmen, who only knew the Blood Summoning Art, were no match for him.
Sixth Apostle. Step forward.
Do not order me around.
The voice that returned sounded raw, as if grating straight from the depths of his lungs.
The Third Apostle glared at the Sixth Apostle—a man with a scrawny build and a harsh, stubborn demeanor.
There were currently four Apostles at the Blood Flame Cult's main headquarters. Excluding the Seventh and Tenth Apostles, who had gone out on reconnaissance, only two remained.
But the Sixth Apostle might as well not be there. He was a rogue who, despite practicing the Blood Art, only cared for pursuing the ultimate heights of martial arts.
To break the limbs of this Desolate Fortress brat without making a disgraceful scene, the Third Apostle had to step forward himself.
He rose from his seat.
He circulated the Mara Blood-Roaring Art. Instantly, abundant Divine Qi sprouted from the fine meridians throughout his body, filling his entire form.
Whoosh!
Driven by his intent, the Third Apostle unleashed his blazing True Qi forward.
A net of overwhelming momentum ensnared the young brat, who stood there with feigned composure.
It was a high-level martial attainment, praised as comparable to the Namgung Clan's Imperial Sword Form. To the boy, it would feel like an invisible prison.
Would he dare to withstand even a single move? He was merely a greenhorn drunk on his own talent, rashly showing off his bravado. Even half a stance was a waste on him.
I will tear him limb from limb.
He looked at the boy, whose eyes were dyed a pale sky-blue. The Apostle's eye technique pierced straight through the young lowborn's gaze.
The movement of the boy's pupils was bizarre. Even while fending off the onslaught of the Blood Master Swordsmen, he was looking elsewhere. He seemed completely immersed in his own inner world.
It was absurd. His mind was focused on something else entirely.
"I know your family well. A worthless, third-rate martial clan," the Third Apostle said as he slowly descended the stairs.
"Xinye County, Henan. The Jeong Family Manor."
The memory was vivid.
"You enjoyed a fertile land that did not suit your station."
Due to the complex dynamics of the Thirteen Heavens of the Unorthodox Factions, they had been forced to cooperate with the Sword Ghosts of the Hegemon Sword Sect.
To drain the power of that monstrous World Tree, he had ordered them to clear out that troublesome, third-rate family and burn their land to the ground.
The Cult Leader had permitted it. In short, this lowborn brat was acting like a grandmaster right in front of his mortal enemies.
"Did you know that your late father, the Jeong Family Head, was a well-known Flower Playboy in Henan? It was said he was involved in countless scandals with all sorts of noble young ladies. With his decent looks, he even seduced your mother. The narrow-mindedness of the Former Commander of the Divine Sword Corps is known to all under heaven, yet when I saw that, I wondered if he was actually a gentleman. To think he let that scoundrel live—the man who took his daughter, who had severed all ties with her family, as a second wife."
There was a hint of laughter in his tone. A sneer.
"Because your father was a scoundrel, you are lowborn. Even if you are the maternal grandson of Ma Yeon-jeok, it changes nothing. Fearing that washed-up old man would beg the Lord of the Desolate Fortress for revenge, I ordered that you alone be spared. Yet you repay our Cult's grace with enmity."
The moment the Seventh Apostle's left eye fell, every secret line of the Blood Flame Cult had been mobilized.
They had even threatened the Hao Sect, where the lower classes exchanged information, demanding they find out everything about the Desolate Fortress's Flash Art.
It was a laughable turn of events. The boy they had spared out of concern for future trouble had turned into an even greater threat. The grievances of the Jianghu were indeed mysterious.
"You did well to alter the Blood Summoning Art."
The Third Apostle's voice grew harsh. His internal energy, which had reached the realm of an Apostle, boiled up to his throat.
"Now, I have no need for your worthless limbs. Your mouth alone will suffice. I will skewer you with large needles, starting from under your fingernails. Even your insolent words and actions will turn polite once I flay your skin."
Clang!
The lowborn brat was fending off the joint attack of the Blood Master Swordsmen remarkably well.
Spinning in a state of selflessness, he struck out with his hands. His movement technique was fluid.
The internal energy, circulated with astonishing delicacy through the acupoints of his entire body, washed over them like a calm wave.
Unleashing the propulsion shockwaves of the Mara Blood-Roaring Art, he shattered the heads of the swordsmen without hesitation, as if using Dharma Power martial arts.
It was shocking to witness. He was a bastard who absolutely could not be allowed to grow any further.
"Step back."
At his quiet command, the swordsmen retreated. In an instant, a path cleared, and the Third Apostle stepped toward the lowborn brat.
"The level of one's martial arts is a concept that encompasses experience in the Jianghu. That is how humans are. They grow stronger as they age. Your measly senses have not yet bloomed. To me, you are merely an opponent of a single move."
He babbled on, even though he knew the boy wasn't listening.
To sever the limbs of a rising star who would have left a great footprint in the Murim... it naturally stirred a strange sensation within him.
"One move. The moment you try to block it, you will be struck dead. So behave yourself as a lowborn should."
It was then.
Rumble!
Suddenly, the sky shuddered. The Third Apostle doubted his own senses.
Even though he had reached the Super-Ascension Realm, he felt it clearly. He wondered if his eyes were deceiving him.
But it was no illusion.
Boom!
The second tremor was different. Something had shattered. For a moment, it felt as if heaven and earth were splitting open.
Immediately, the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation came to mind. If his intuition was correct, this was indeed a world-shattering event.
It was an ancient barrier that had protected the main headquarters for hundreds of years. The destruction of the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation meant the collapse of the Blood Flame Cult's very heaven and earth.
"The Moon Spirit Divine Technique!"
The shout came from behind. The Cult Leader, who had been watching leisurely, sprang to his feet. The dignity of an absolute ruler had completely vanished from his posture.
Roar!
In an instant, a pure white storm swept in. Debris from the shattered and ruined barrier swirled violently.
The Third Apostle felt it immediately through his vast sense of qi.
The energy scattering in all directions, along with the wind from the outside world, pressed down heavily upon the main headquarters.
Roar!
It was the sound of the Jianghu's mongrels invading from all sides.
What on earth had the Seventh and Tenth Apostles been doing? They had gone out on reconnaissance earlier with several elite swordsmen. There was no telling what had happened to them now.
But that was meaningless now.
The Third Apostle fell into a panic. So did the peak experts of the headquarters, who could all feel the destruction of the sorcery formation.
These men, who would be treated as powerful figures anywhere under heaven, all stared up at the sky.
Someone was descending from the distant heavens.
It took a mere instant. A figure that seemed to dissolve into the wind suddenly appeared on the ground.
Her light green hair and the hem of her clothes radiated a transcendent clarity, as if she were detached from reality itself.
"..."
She was a woman who stood lightly on the ground, looking for all the world like a descended celestial maiden.
Yet, the presence emanating from her entire body said otherwise. The bodies of the Blood Flame Cult experts stiffened.
The higher one's martial arts level, the more profound the terror they felt.
She was no celestial maiden. She was Yama of the Underworld.
Rustle.
She took a step, as calm as if she were taking a stroll. The hem of her grass-green martial uniform swept against the ground with a soft whisper.
When had she drawn it? The brilliance flowing down the precious sword held at her side seeped into her clear eyes and pale skin.
It felt as if the sunlight had suddenly grown exceptionally bright.
"Crazy..." the Blood Flame Cult Leader muttered.
There were portraits of absolute masters that anyone who discussed worldly affairs had engraved into their minds.
Her face was the very first among them. It was said to be the same whether for local warlords, great Murim sects, or even the royal families of small nations.
"The Lord of the Desolate Fortress...?"
The Third Apostle's groan carried a tone of disbelief.
The reality of the situation had not yet sunk in. The same went for her appearance, which could never truly be captured by a single portrait. Because of her ultimate beauty, his recognition was delayed.
No.
Her face did not matter.
When the Lord of the Desolate Fortress slowly took another step, only then did the Third Apostle feel a chilling shock, as if an icicle had been driven into the back of his neck.
Our Cult is in danger!
A pressure that seemed to quietly warp space itself sliced through his skin, layer by layer.
The martial power he faced was at a level that could not even be measured.
"Attack!" he roared, ordering the various elders of the Cult.
Swoosh.
The Lord of the Desolate Fortress moved.
She didn't grant the bastards a single second more.
The moment the wide-eyed Third Apostle let out his battle cry, she was already delivering a sword strike right in front of him.
Was it the Earth-Shrinking Art, where immortals compress the ground? It was an unrealistic movement technique; it was as if she had turned into the wind itself.
Her pure white sword shimmered like a transparent breeze.
Thud.
The Third Apostle's head fell. It was an end unbecoming of such a notoriously powerful expert.
A name that had once resounded across the vast provinces of the Central Plains vanished in vain.
Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes widened. He suddenly snapped out of his state of selflessness.
The sense of qi in his Upper Dantian aligned perfectly with the sight before his eyes.
I didn't see the stance.
Jeong Yeon-shin speculated. The Third Apostle must have been the same. He had passed away without even recognizing her move.
He must have only been certain of the death looming before him.
He had only seen her raised hand. He could not capture the path of her sword.
An absolute master. Or a peerless master.
Though the terms differed, the feeling was the same.
No matter who she faced, she held the upper hand. There was no one in the world to match her.
They said the fruit of the World Tree is not something to be plundered.
The rumors of the gossips were true.
The tree, said to bear the most divine spirit medicine in heaven and earth, would remain eternal under her protection.
"..."
A deathly silence enveloped the inner courtyard of the Cult Leader's Hall.
An infidel who had broken into the banquet hall had just slaughtered the Third Apostle—a man second only to one, and above tens of thousands.
Yet, even righteous indignation had to be measured against one's opponent. The silence ran deep.
Only the battle cries and momentum of the Murim warriors echoing from outside grew louder.
Step.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader suddenly descended, standing right in front of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
His blood-red robe, embroidered with a golden dragon, fluttered a moment later. Sweeping his snow-white hair behind his back, he spoke.
"This is our first face-to-face meeting."
"I have nothing to discuss with a sinner."
There was zero emotion in the voice of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
Her sword was the same.
The moment a faint sword light flashed without warning, blood erupted from the neck of the Blood Flame Cult Leader.
The nearby peak experts of the Blood Flame Cult gasped.
The fresh blood of an ancient absolute master had flowed as easily as a dream.
Yet, he did not die instantly. Before anyone knew it, the Blood Flame Cult Leader had taken half a step back.
This was highly significant. He had reacted to the sword strike. He had properly executed evasive footwork.
Hehehe.
Making a sound like boiling phlegm, the corners of the Cult Leader's mouth twisted. His bright red lips tore open to the very sides of his face.
In that instant, Jeong Yeon-shin saw it clearly.
The sight of the sword wound on his neck boiling and rapidly regenerating was even more grotesque than his laughter. He was a grandmaster of the Blood Art.
The caliber of his regenerative ability was on a completely different level from the Blood Master Swordsmen.
At the same time, the figures of the two absolute masters vanished. It was as if they had entered another realm entirely. It was an unimaginable achievement of internal energy.
Boom!
Even though the sound echoed from far away, he almost stumbled. The shockwave that struck his ears was immense. They were still invisible.
Jeong Yeon-shin quickly circulated his True Qi. There was no need to even look inside.
He erected an internal energy barrier in his ear canals. This delicate task was accomplished in an instant.
Through his deep study of the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand and the Mara Blood-Roaring Art, his level of internal energy control had advanced yet another step.
"The Cult Leader, where is the Cult Leader?"
"He is fighting the vile enemy!"
The experts turned their heads. The commotion was coming from the mountain behind the Cult Leader's Hall.
A sound that seemed to shake heaven and earth rang out once more. It was as if hundreds of Thunderbolt Bombs had exploded at once.
An incredibly massive cloud of dust rose.
But that was only for a moment.
The intervals between the roaring sounds became intermittent. The clash of absolute masters was only noisy in the beginning.
One breath.
Jeong Yeon-shin assessed the situation calmly. He had heard of the realm of peerless masters.
To them, a single breath of an ordinary person was no different from eternity. As expected of experts whose depths were hard to fathom, there seemed to be more evasion and feints than direct clashes.
Jeong Yeon-shin soon brushed aside his thoughts.
"Destroy the heretical cult!"
"Crush evil and reveal the truth! Expel demons and eradicate evil!"
The sounds of clashing swords and exploding shockwaves drew closer. It was the Murim warriors, who had finally begun to strike the Blood Flame Cult's main headquarters.
The figures rushing forward while casually deflecting the enemies' weapons looked familiar.
Cheong-myeong was the fastest. Next were Wiji Myo-hwa and Baek Mi-ryeo.
The Body Protection Scripture of the Young Divine Monk Gakjeong was no less impressive than theirs. There were even the Plum Blossom Swordmasters of the Mount Hua Sect.
It was a welcoming sight. It felt as if a bed to rest his weary mind was finally drawing near.
"Young... Young Hero Jeong...!"
He heard it clearly. At the very tail end of the vanguard was Heonwon Chang.
He ran forward, his face looking like nothing but skin and bones. Using his Lightness Skill, he tactfully evaded the sword strikes of several Blood Flame Cultists.
Upon seeing Jeong Yeon-shin, he wore an extremely exhausted smile. He was a reliable companion, as always.
You've recovered your martial arts.
While feeling greatly relieved, Jeong Yeon-shin's mind spun rapidly.
He thought of the inevitable victory of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. However, the Blood Flame Cult Leader was also one of the absolute masters counted among the vast Central Plains.
He could not picture him being easily defeated.
If that was the case, the sacrifices would be immense. He knew this with just a single glance.
"So you were the calamity of our Cult."
The Sixth Apostle, who had begun to radiate killing intent from one side, was a major problem.
The way he stared back and forth between Jeong Yeon-shin and the Murim warriors was highly threatening.
An expert comparable to a Black Rank Unit Commander of the Desolate Fortress was not common.
There is no peak expert who can match an Apostle.
Even if there were hundreds of Murim warriors pushing in from all directions, it didn't change a thing.
The same went for the dozens of Blood Master Swordsmen. The swordsmen of the main headquarters were strong enough to conquer not just a local county, but an entire prefecture.
It meant they were rare powerhouses in the Jianghu.
"The Unit Commanders of the Desolate Fortress are coming!" Cheong-myeong shouted as he dashed forward with his Lightness Skill.
It was clearly a bluff.
Jeong Yeon-shin had already checked when his Upper Dantian's sense of qi was activated. There were no Black Ranks among their allies.
It was the moment the chronic problem of the Desolate Fortress was laid bare. They simply lacked the manpower to cover the vast Central Plains.