Chapter 72: Rewards
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 72: Rewards
How long had he been drifting in that dreamless, pitch-black stupor?
Suddenly, he sensed sunlight. It was a brilliant white. At the same time, it felt as if a thick, heavy blanket of cotton was being gently lifted from his soul.
“Mmh.”
He was waking. A cracked groan escaped his throat.
The bed felt familiar. It had the distinct softness of the quarters in the Demonlight Wing.
The air carried a familiar, tranquil scent that promised safety.
Ah.
The moment he became aware of his own soul, his consciousness returned in a flash. In an instant, he calculated the time that had passed.
The calculation was instinctual, a deeply ingrained habit.
From the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering to the Hwangbo Clan, then back to Southern Zhili to rescue and heal Heonwon Chang, and finally, to the headquarters of the Blood Flame Cult, right under the noses of the Namgung Clan bastards.
The travel time alone had been immense, and one major incident had piled up after another.
Eighty-seven days had passed.
The lifespan he had sacrificed to the Sword House had cost him roughly a fortnight.
And how long had the return journey taken?
He tried to estimate based on his hunger. His stomach was empty, but he felt fine. His body hadn't weakened to an extreme degree.
He also examined his internal state—his acupoints, the Eight Extraordinary Meridians, the Twelve Meridians, and even his three dantians.
Their strength and elasticity had weakened significantly, likely the backlash from altering the Dual Flame Blood Spirit Formation into a demon-subduing formation.
The strain the Baihui Point exerted on his upper dantian had also intensified.
I'll need to recuperate.
He would have to take his time to return to peak condition.
“I sense movement. Are you awake?”
The deep, thick voice overflowed with power—an internal energy that surged naturally, without conscious effort. An incredibly powerful master had spoken without even opening the door.
He knew who it was immediately.
It wasn't just the familiar voice; it was Ma Jin, who had been walking on eggshells around his nephew ever since learning of their blood relation.
“Yes, Commander. Please come in.”
“Very well.”
The door slid open with a rattle.
A man of massive build entered, closing the wooden door behind him. His tightly-knit muscles were prominent even through his Black Rank uniform, and the scars on his face spoke of a hundred battles. This was the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, whose fame had surely soared after annihilating the Hwangbo Clan’s main house.
Jeong Yeon-shin looked at his maternal uncle with a fresh perspective. After being captured by the Seventh Apostle, he had thought he might never see him again.
“How is your body? You must have fought the Hwangbo Clan Head.”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked, scanning his uncle’s condition.
Ma Jin sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at his nephew before speaking.
“It was a war, so we launched a joint attack. The Clan Head’s martial prowess was exceptionally high. He used some secret technique, a martial art I’d never seen before. I coordinated with the Commander of the Thread-Annihilation Unit, and we only managed to take his head after seventy exchanges. I recovered from my internal injuries on the way back. What about you?”
“There are no issues with the flow of my true qi, and my blood circulation is fine. I think I’ll be good after a few meals and some rest. However…”
“Hmm?”
“What’s today’s date?”
“…It’s five days before the summer solstice.”
The fifteenth day of the sixth month.
Jeong Yeon-shin closed his eyes briefly. He had already spent half of his sixteenth year. He had about three years and six months left, minus the fortnight he had sacrificed to the Sword House.
He engaged his core and sat up.
“I acted on my own quite a lot. I should report directly to the Chief Steward’s Office.”
“There’s no need to rush. The ones who attacked the Blood Flame Cult’s headquarters are still on their way back. And… I returned a bit after you, and by then, the main fortress was already in an uproar. I heard the Lord of the Desolate Fortress personally carried you back. It seems she exerted her lightness skill the entire way on her own.”
“Then?”
“The Chief Steward’s Office is known for its strictness, but even they can’t press you for a report after witnessing a sight like that. It means you can take your time.”
“I understand.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his actions contradicting his words. His physical condition might require rest, but he had to go to the Chief Steward’s Office immediately. He could hardly contain his anticipation for the settlement of his achievements.
Ma Jin was pushed back in surprise.
“…What do you think you’re doing?”
“Recuperation is more than just lying in bed. I need to feel the sun and the late spring breeze.”
“What? You’re not one of the Brightfolk.”
Stopping his uncle from following, he stepped out of the inner quarters.
The moment he was outside, he had to stop. The seniors walking around the Demonlight Wing’s pavilion approached him with bright, welcoming faces.
“The Flash Art is awake.”
“Is your body alright?”
“I heard your journey was eventful. Care to tell us the story?”
“More importantly, is it true the Lord of the Desolate Fortress carried you back herself? Did you feel her peerless Body Protection Scripture? How fast was she moving?”
It had been a while since he’d experienced this.
These were his Blue Rank seniors from the Demonlight Wing. They always showed great interest whenever their youngest member completed a mission. Although Jeong Yeon-shin was no longer the lowest rank thanks to his promotion and Shin So-bin’s enlistment, he was still a young junior in their eyes.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s goal was the Purple Rank of the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps. The Blue-ranked warriors were the backbone of the Desolate Fortress, and he had to mind his reputation among them.
Answering them one by one, he walked with them along the path that passed the grand martial arts training ground. As the area grew livelier, more seniors gathered around them.
Eventually, they began talking among themselves.
“The main fortress has definitely been noisy. The Lord of the Desolate Fortress personally bringing the Flash Art back was just one part of it.”
“Are there other incidents?”
At Jeong Yeon-shin’s question, another senior spoke up.
“The entire Jianghu is descending into an age of chaos. The 17th Unit is severely short-handed, yet the clans under our banner are burning with a desire for fame. Rumor has it they’ve started squabbling over mission allocations. The Desolate Ma Clan, your maternal family, is involved too.”
Their words were unreserved, even when speaking of his family. They had every right to be. A Blue-ranked warrior of the Desolate Fortress was a master who could be considered a powerhouse anywhere in the Central Plains. Their personalities were as bold and expansive as their martial arts, peers of equal caliber who could each defeat a hundred men with a single sword.
“I see.”
Since Jeong Yeon-shin was of the same breed, he simply nodded.
“There’s also that guy. The genius.”
Another senior’s voice came from the side, and the surroundings grew noisy again.
“I’ve heard of him. The one locked up in the Thunder Prison? The one with the Solar Divine Pulse?”
“If you mean the Hwangbo Clan’s Young Master, then yes. There’s a lot of talk about how to handle him.”
“I don’t understand why they don’t just kill him. Isn’t leaving the Hwangbo Clan’s martial arts intact just asking for future trouble?”
“Future trouble? He’s been captured and brought to the main fortress. How could he possibly escape?”
They were talking about the Lazy Flame Dragon of the Hwangbo Clan. Jeong Yeon-shin asked, “Did the White Ranks from the Shandong expedition return first?”
“Yes. Their contribution was significant too. Even after being defeated by the Clan Alliance and the Blood Flame Cult, they managed to secure several prisoners. That Lazy Flame Dragon fellow was one of them. He was dragged in looking surprisingly dignified.”
He recalled the madman who chewed on poppies, a lunatic of a different breed than the Seventh Apostle.
Compared to the conflicts among the clans under the fortress, that’s nothing, Jeong Yeon-shin thought, shaking his head inwardly.
The smiling seniors pestered him to tell them about his mission. These were men who didn’t even enjoy common gambling; they often said they had few pleasures in life. Martial arts, the history of the Jianghu, tales of heroism, and idle gossip were all they had.
“I’ll tell you all about it later. We can even hold a sword discussion.”
He politely shook them off and headed straight for the Chief Steward’s Office.
“Jeong Yeon-shin of the Demonlight Wing. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
The scholar managing the entry register checked Jeong Yeon-shin’s Desolate Fortress token. A vivid golden tree was emblazoned on it. It was an identification token with the characters for “Flash Art” (閃藝) engraved beneath the pattern.
“Flash Art” was no longer just a moniker. It was his courtesy name, formally bestowed upon him by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress during his coming-of-age ceremony.
The scholar returned the token immediately, having clearly only asked for it as a formality. Jeong Yeon-shin was wearing his Blue Rank uniform, and there was no way the scholar could have missed the golden character for “Desolate” (荒) on it, which signified a direct disciple of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
“Young Hero Flash Art. May I ask your business?”
“Mission report and settlement of achievements.”
For a moment, a strange gleam flickered in the scholar’s eyes.
“Understood.”
Jeong Yeon-shin stepped inside the grand pavilion, and the scent of ink washed over him. The long, sprawling desks looked ancient, and the spacious room was filled with scholars, each holding a brush and writing.
It was an incredibly vast office, no smaller than a decent-sized training ground, filled with dozens of scholars.
Ma Jin was right. The solemn atmosphere here was no less intense than that of the warriors.
He sent a telepathic transmission to the person sitting in the seat of honor at the far end.
—Jeong Yeon-shin, the Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing. I am here to report my mission…
A robust man in a brown robe stood up. He was a middle-aged man with a thick, pitch-black beard, and his reaction was incredibly swift.
“Please, come this way!” he practically shouted as he gestured him forward, his demeanor extremely polite. He seemed completely unconcerned by the tense atmosphere. Could this be the head of the Chief Steward’s Office?
It was said that the Grand Overseer of the Desolate Fortress was someone who could scold even the Black Ranks, thanks to his control over budget and personnel. He wondered if this was the man.
But he realized the truth immediately.
It’s because I was bestowed martial arts by the Lord of the Desolate Fortress.
For a moment, all eyes in the room turned toward him. Some scholars quickly returned to their work, while others began to whisper.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not move. His past experiences in the Jianghu dictated his actions. He had learned how to conduct himself after losing a sword discussion.
“I greet the pillars of our fortress. I am Jeong Yeon-shin, the Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing.”
He clasped his hands in greeting to the scholars of the Chief Steward’s Office. Warriors were known to look down on scholars, but he couldn't afford to. He was young, and those who controlled personnel appointments were kings in their own right.
“…”
The silence was brief. One by one, the scholars rose and returned the courtesy.
Their expressions were complex. Jeong Yeon-shin was a direct disciple of the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, a status that had originally belonged only to the imperial family. Never before had a master bearing the golden character shown them respect first.
Good.
This was enough. Planting a small seed of goodwill was sufficient.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned.
Feeling the whispers gradually spreading behind him, he followed the Grand Overseer, who led him onward with an indescribable expression.
They entered another office in the annex, where the two of them sat facing each other.
“I was about to offer you some Longjing tea. Would that be to your liking?”
“I would gladly accept.”
The Grand Overseer called a servant and ordered the tea.
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin studied the man’s face. Because of his large build, his eye level was quite high. Though he was the head of the Chief Steward’s Office, he had clearly trained in martial arts; Jeong Yeon-shin could feel a powerful aura brushing against his skin. He certainly did not look like someone prone to flattery.
“One moment.”
The Grand Overseer pulled a stack of papers from a drawer. It was a thick bundle, densely packed with writing. Scanning the documents, he parted his thick lips.
“The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, the mission at the Hwangbo branch family in Pingyin County, the destruction of Blood Flame Cult branches while traversing Shandong and Southern Zhili, and the elimination of the Blood Ghosts right in front of those Namgung bastards,” he recited.
“These are older events. There were many witnesses, and we have thoroughly investigated them. We received a report from the White-ranked warrior Shin So-bin, as well as letters from the branch heads of two departments, the Blue-Eyed Demon Sword, and the Sun Lotus Sword Enchantress. Even the Sword Dragon of the Zhongnan Sect sent word.”
“…Are you saying the matters you mentioned have already been settled?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked, maintaining a calm demeanor.
“Indeed. After a simple cross-examination, you will receive the rewards befitting a Blue-ranked warrior.”
The Grand Overseer’s lips curled into a wide smile.
He continued slowly, “However, as for the incident at the Blood Flame Cult’s headquarters… the Lord of the Desolate Fortress has not given us any word on this, so we must receive a detailed report. That will take some time. So, before that…”
He paused for a moment before speaking again.
“Let us discuss the settled rewards first. Fifty taels of silver, a martial uniform woven entirely from Heavenly Silkworm thread, the right to request martial arts instruction from the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, and a high-grade spirit medicine of our fortress… Of course, you can choose. If you have a specific preference…”
“I would prefer the spirit medicine,” Jeong Yeon-shin said without hesitation.
The Grand Overseer’s eyes widened slightly. “Hmm? That is not what I meant.”
“Pardon…?”
“I was only asking about the spirit medicine—whether you would take it now or have it stored in the Medicine Hall. You can retrieve it at any time. The Head of the Medicine Hall is of the Brightfolk, and I mention this because they can preserve elixir pills in their optimal state. Since they are unaffected by humidity and temperature, they are certainly worthy of your trust.”
“…I find it difficult to understand what you mean.”
At Jeong Yeon-shin’s words, the Grand Overseer laughed.
“They are all yours, Young Hero. Every single thing I mentioned.”