Chapter 71: Reputation (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 71: Reputation (6)
'As expected. There are no Unit Commanders from the main fortress here.'
Jeong Yeon-shin scanned his allies once more. The powerful wave of energy unique to the Black Ranks was absent.
It was only natural. The Central Plains were as vast as a dozen foreign nations combined—a territory far too immense for only seventeen martial units to manage.
Moreover, with three of those units currently focused on the Hwangbo Clan, the main fortress was bound to be largely empty. Their forces were already scattered across the continent.
Even the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps rarely returned to the main fortress in Xiangyang, a testament to his dedication to the duties of the Desolate Fortress. If a few Unit Commanders had arrived, they were likely occupied with keeping the absent Apostles of the Blood Flame Cult in check.
There were quite a few Blue Ranks present, primarily commanding the martial artists drawn in by the fortress's cause and authority. They were currently locked in a fierce clash with the cult's main force.
“Have you thrown your lot in with the Blood Flame Cult?!”
Amidst the chaos, a strangely familiar shout rang out. A young Taoist had rushed forward, appearing before him in the blink of an eye. The plum blossom embroidery on his Mount Hua Sect robes fluttered in the wind.
'Yu-hyeon.'
He was the first disciple of the Mount Hua Sect Leader and a man Jeong Yeon-shin considered a close friend. An air of composure, quite unbefitting of a battlefield, drifted around him. He was exactly the same as the day they had first met.
Beside him were Wiji Myo-hwa, the successor of the Zhongnan Sect, and Gakjeong, the young divine monk of Shaolin. These friends from the Nine Sects had even brought their martial brothers along. The moment Yeon-shin saw them, he knew.
They had stepped forward purely out of friendship and a sense of righteousness. They must have had to plead with their sect elders for permission to be here.
'He spoke of the disappearance of righteous heroes.'
The Blood Flame Cult Leader, who had lamented the world's bad harvests and famines, came to mind. Jeong Yeon-shin inwardly shook his head.
Could he still say such things if he knew people like them existed?
Tap.
“These bastards are pretty tough, aren’t they?”
Cheong-myeong’s lightness skill was the fastest. As he spun and landed, his blue Desolate Fortress robe fluttered elegantly. His movements were incredibly light as he stepped beside Yeon-shin.
Whoosh!
Jeong Yeon-shin’s hair fluttered in the cool breeze characteristic of the Brightfolk. Cheong-myeong patted his shoulder with a grin, looking more reliable than anyone else at that moment.
Baek Mi-ryeo and Wiji Myo-hwa also arrived, landing with a gust of wind. But they weren't the last.
There was Yu-hyeon and five plum blossom swordsmen, Gakjeong and four extraordinary martial monks, ten familiar experts from the Zhongnan Sect, and even Heonwon Chang.
Yeon-shin exchanged quick nods with the others. The situation left no room for leisurely greetings.
“The main headquarters of the Blood Flame Cult… it certainly lives up to its reputation,” one of the plum blossom swordsmen groaned.
A standoff ensued.
Jeong Yeon-shin and his martial companions stood in the center, surrounded by the high-ranking members of the Blood Flame Cult, who were beginning to close in.
'They opened up a space. They did it on purpose.'
Jeong Yeon-shin realized their plan was transparent. The Sixth Apostle and the Blood Master Swords clearly recognized the skill of the intruders with the fastest lightness skills. Their plan was to draw them all in at once and annihilate them first.
“We have secured the Flash Art,” Baek Mi-ryeo said. “Getting out is the problem. There's no telling how many exchanges it will take for the Castle Lord to slay the Blood Flame Cult Leader.”
As she spoke, she scanned the Pure Blood Robe Jeong Yeon-shin was wearing, checking to see if he was unharmed.
“Isn’t that bastard over there an Apostle?” Heonwon Chang pointed at the Sixth Apostle, his alarm belated.
The elites who had arrived first had been watching him from the very beginning. He was shrouded in the most formidable aura among all their enemies. The stronger a martial artist was, the more sensitive their sense of Qi, and they couldn't help but be on high alert.
“Mount Hua, Zhongnan… Shaolin. Even the Nine Sects have come.” The Sixth Apostle laughed, his fleshless cheeks hollowing deeply. “Were you afraid of the consequences? Your forces are pathetic. Not a single elder in sight.”
No one answered his taunt.
The Blood Flame Cult was massive. The combined strength of its branches might even exceed that of its main headquarters. It was said that the martial power of the scattered First and Second Apostles rivaled that of the leaders of most major sects.
Relations between major sects were a political minefield. Such was the case between the Thirteen Heavens of the Unorthodox Factions and the great orthodox sects. For an elder-level expert of the Nine Sects to take action was a matter of immense gravity. It was tantamount to a declaration of a sect war. No one wanted to fight with their sect's survival on the line, as the Zhongnan Sect had against the Hegemon Sword Sect.
Even if the orthodox factions cried out for righteousness, the reality of survival always came first.
Slide.
Meanwhile, the Blood Master Swords shifted their footwork. Before long, their battle formation was set. The pressure of their surging momentum was staggering.
It was the moment right before the clash of experts. Perhaps due to the tension, Heonwon Chang's voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
—I don't know why, but the Blood Master Swords here seem incredibly strong.
It was a telepathic transmission. Jeong Yeon-shin replied immediately.
—Your eyes aren't deceiving you.
He had stayed in the main headquarters for a long time. Many of them had sought his guidance. There was no shortage of blood ghosts who offered living humans as tributes, and among them, the Blood Master Swords who presented martial artists were particularly powerful.
—There is a thunder prison holding those about to have their true qi drained. We must win and rescue them.
He had spoken to the Seventh Apostle to secure one of the thunder prisons, gathering those on the verge of being sacrificed in that underground dungeon. He had wanted to protect at least the people who had been brought in as tributes.
Heonwon Chang's expression shifted. Without a word, he adjusted his grip on his sword, radiating a finely honed killing intent. It was the opening stance of a slaughtering sword art.
Jeong Yeon-shin channeled his internal energy once more, meticulously guiding true qi into the Renying points on both sides of his throat and the Lianquan point just above his vocal cords.
—I can kill all of the Blood Master Swords.
It was a telepathic message to Baek Mi-ryeo.
—Will you act as my dharma protection?
—...You are a Blue Rank who has carried out a long-term mission. You deserve our respect.
Her puzzled expression smoothed into one of calm as she replied, even as their enemies surged forward. While the experts of the Nine Sects guarded their surroundings, the masters of the Demonlight Wing watched him calmly.
Hummm!
Jeong Yeon-shin immediately unleashed the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand. His hand, dyed in a blue light, was different from before. A strange wave of energy rippled outward.
The Sixth Apostle seemed to be the first to notice the anomaly, but Jeong Yeon-shin was already channeling the profound principles of the Sword House through his Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand.
Hummm!
It was a martial art that loaded a dispersive type of true qi onto the sword ring. But now, it was different. He infused it not with sound, but with dharma power.
The power of the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand began to spread in all directions—a technique designed to detonate the kindred energies he had planted like hidden thunderbolt bombs. The energies he had sown while watching the sunrise over the Blood Flame Cult more than thirty times began to react. The sound of resonance echoed continuously.
In the midst of this, the Sixth Apostle's figure blurred. The speed of his Body Protection Scripture was like a flash of light.
Boom!
Marble fragments from the inner courtyard shattered and flew in all directions.
Gakjeong and the other Shaolin monks blocked his path. A grand, righteous wave of energy spread out from them as one. For a split second, the image of a Buddha seemed to manifest—a materialization of true qi.
A formation that multiplied their strength through a coordinated attack. Were they executing the legendary Shaolin Eighteen Arhat Formation with only five people?
“The will of the Tathagata rests upon your crowns!”
The young divine monk Gakjeong stood at the center. He blocked the Sixth Apostle's fist with the very same technique he had used during his sermon wager with Jeong Yeon-shin. A majestic power surged from their clashing fists. It was the Shaolin Dragon Fist.
Even so, he was pushed back. Gakjeong let out a Lion's Roar.
“Aaaaah!”
His battle cry was tremendous. The same was true for the four martial monks supporting him, who mirrored his stance and channeled the shockwave. It was said that all martial arts under heaven originated from Shaolin. Their foundational strength was truly immense.
He was deeply grateful. Jeong Yeon-shin immediately closed his eyes. He could feel the presences of Cheong-myeong, Baek Mi-ryeo, and Heonwon Chang in his immediate vicinity.
Guarding a martial artist about to perform a complex manipulation of true qi—this was the duty of dharma protection. Their trust washed over him with an unexpected warmth.
Clang! Crash!
It was a clash of masters. The shockwaves vibrated against his skin like drumbeats. The experts on both sides were tangled in a chaotic melee.
'This fight. I won't let it drag on.'
The scale of this battle was grand, but so were the preparations he had made over the past thirty days.
An extremely faint wave of energy was spreading in concentric circles. It was the Sword House technique of the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand gathered in his right hand.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Hummm!
It began from the railings of the thirty-six steps. A wave of dharma power suddenly erupted.
Jeong Yeon-shin could feel it even with his eyes closed.
“Ugh!”
The breathing of two Blood Master Swords faltered. They were the ones who had been trading blows with the plum blossom swordsmen while moving up and down the stairs.
A split-second opening led directly to death. The moment a plum blossom sword of the Mount Hua Sect flashed, a head was severed from its neck.
“What in the…?” the plum blossom swordsman muttered blankly, even in victory.
This was just the beginning. Gradually, the same phenomenon began to occur everywhere.
The Blood Master Swords began to fall one after another. The source of it all was clear.
Amidst the splattering blood and the Sixth Apostle's wild rampage, both allies and enemies directed their senses of Qi toward the young expert of the Desolate Fortress.
Within that focus, Jeong Yeon-shin slowly took a step forward.
Step.
He began to ascend the thirty-six steps. Escorted by his companions from the Demonlight Wing, he alone was at peace.
The Blood Master Swords could not even approach him, because the ripples of the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand were growing denser by the second.
Wuuuuu!
With every step he took, his dharma power grew more formidable. His long preparation was finally blooming into a flower of demon-quelling. Throughout the main headquarters, righteous energy was detonating in sequence.
Jeong Yeon-shin reached the top of the thirty-six steps of anguish. He opened his eyes.
This was the very spot where the Blood Flame Cult Leader used to look down upon all creation. He lifted his foot to stamp down. He had to; the strain was becoming unbearable. His Upper Dantian, burning within his mind, was turning his thoughts completely white.
Thud!
He stamped his foot.
That was the trigger.
Wuuuuuu—!
A hazy blue light began to billow in all directions.
The core principles of the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation transformed into a demon-subduing formation. Even the fragments of the sorcery formation shattered by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress were completely altered.
The power of the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand, which he had planted throughout the main headquarters over the past month, surged outward like a tidal wave. Starting from the railings, it reached the stairs and the rafters, the impact triggering further detonations in an explosive chain reaction.
Screams of all kinds echoed across the battlefield. They were the shrieks of the blood ghosts. The raw agony of each one filled the sky.
In an instant, a scene from hell was painted before them. The Blood Flame Cultists writhed as if they had fallen into the grasp of Acala, the Immovable King.
“Heh, ugh.”
“What… what is this…!”
The battlefield around the Cult Leader's Hall was even worse. They took the direct hit of the overlapping waves of dharma power. Those who collapsed on the spot died a merciful death. The high-ranking members who merely stumbled were gruesomely hacked to pieces by the swords of the orthodox martial artists.
Compared to the momentum they had shown at the start of the battle, their end was almost pitifully futile.
“Expelling demons and eradicating evil” was a cold, ruthless phrase. The hands of the orthodox martial artists dealing with the heterodox sects were merciless.
Yet, the Blood Flame Cultists in the inner courtyard did not look at their killers. Even as they died, their eyes were fixed on Jeong Yeon-shin, standing atop the stairs.
The young Grand Preceptor.
While his pitch-black hair, falling to his shoulders, swayed in the energy waves, his eyes flashed with a light like a sunlit sea. He stood there, his outstretched hand enveloped in an even deeper blue radiance.
The rippling blue light blended with the hem of his blood-red Pure Blood Robe, creating a strangely mesmerizing sight.
“You bastard…!”
“We let in… a grim reaper.”
“How can a lowborn's bearing be… so noble…?”
“If only you had truly become our Grand Preceptor.”
The orthodox martial artists reacted similarly. Even as they slit the throats of their enemies, they stared at the Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress.
Their original plan had been different. It had been to endure the onslaught of the enemy leadership, Apostles included. The core of that plan was their trust in the absolute martial power of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. They had been prepared to make great sacrifices.
But it had been unnecessary. It felt surreal. The young genius of the Desolate Fortress, who had been held captive, had completely overturned the tide of battle.
“What on earth is happening…?”
“Look! The cultists are killing themselves!”
“It's not suicide. That was an orthodox Buddhist technique.”
“I've never even heard of such a thing. Who under heaven could…?”
These were martial artists from various clans and academies gathered from the surrounding regions. There were other blue-robed warriors as well. Having fought their way up from the outskirts, they witnessed the spectacle on the thirty-six steps.
The vanguard of those rushing forward with lightness skills ground to a halt. A brief silence fell over the area. As martial artists who had awakened their sense of Qi, they could clearly feel the wave of dharma power dwelling in the hand of the blood-robed youth standing at the top of the stairs.
Before they knew it, the only enemy left standing was the Sixth Apostle.
Blood dripped from his fists, which had crushed several experts of the Nine Sects. That was all. The fighting naturally ground to a halt.
“Has the Great Sun Tathagata descended…?” he lamented, his words uncharacteristic of a Blood Flame Cultist. “Grand Preceptor… No, you are the Flash Art. From the very beginning, we should have…”
“You Apostles,” Jeong Yeon-shin cut him off, his voice slow. “Talk too much. Every single one of you.”
He raised his hand, still imbued with the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand. The wave of dharma power, which had yet to subside, continuously distorted and expanded. It was a gesture that declared words were useless. The formation, now transformed into a perfect counter, was on his side. He could handle this.
'It's hard.'
But his body told a different story. The backlash of the Sword House technique was assaulting his Upper Dantian. It felt as though his head were being crushed.
He desperately hid any sign of it. The Shaolin monks who had withstood the Sixth Apostle's onslaught were in a wretched state. Now, he was the only one left with the power to counter the heterodox sects.
“Ha.”
The hollow look vanished from the Sixth Apostle’s face as his eyes widened. He seemed to have cast aside all fame, interest, and dogma. A competitive spirit flared in his expression.
The Sixth Apostle spoke with genuine admiration. “Even if it is just your head…”
Splat!
His mouth, along with his entire body, was blown to pieces. A split second later, a tremendous gale swept through, blowing away even the fragments of his corpse.
Rustle.
A woman landed as lightly as a falling petal from above. She stood right beside Jeong Yeon-shin.
“Castle Lord!”
The blood-drenched Cheong-myeong and Baek Mi-ryeo prostrated themselves. Heonwon Chang also knelt, albeit a moment late. The Desolate Fortress warriors among the crowd also paid their respects.
Many other martial artists followed suit, either kneeling or clasping their hands in salute. Awe and terror were reflected on their faces.
“Castle… Lord,” Jeong Yeon-shin barely managed to speak. In an instant, his entire body grew heavy. The burden he had been holding back poured down like a torrent breaching a dam.
With great effort, he turned his head slightly.
Their eyes met.
Her deep green eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Her gaze was brilliant. Perhaps because she was a peerless master who transcended mortality, it was always like this whenever he faced the Lord of the Desolate Fortress. It felt as if a blade of grass were tickling his very sense of Qi. A dreamlike sensation washed over his entire body.
She slowly parted her lips.
“Your standing is about to change.”
Her voice sounded as if it were echoing from far away. He didn't know when his eyelids had closed. Before he knew it, his vision faded into a dreamlike darkness.
“I grant you a long slumber first. Rest now.”
Rustle.
He felt the soft touch of fabric against his cheek. His body, which had lost its balance and was tilting over, came to a stop.
Had he been caught in her arms? The Castle Lord had spoken of a long sleep. Perhaps he would open his eyes back at the Desolate Fortress. He hadn't actually wanted to be escorted.
'I'd rather she gave me a fruit.'
Even just a single piece.
Even that desperate, stray thought slowly drifted away. He fell into an abyss that dragged him down like a swamp. Without resisting, he let his consciousness fade.
Even the blade of his mind, honed by his grueling journey through the Jianghu, began to dull. Jeong Yeon-shin believed it would only be for a brief moment.