Chapter 91: The Art of Instant Death (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 91: The Art of Instant Death (3)
Jeong Yeon-shin sat across from Namgung Hwa-shin at the tea table, quietly studying the man who had joined them.
He was a handsome young man who looked to be in his late twenties. His eyes, gentle and down-sloping, held a tranquil depth. His lightly pursed lips, however, hinted at an unyielding resolve.
This was the young master of the Namgung Clan.
'They said he's Young Hero White Qilin's older brother.'
The Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin. He was once hailed as the premier rising star of Southern Zhili, but that was a story of the past. These days, the gossips of the Jianghu no longer counted him among the new generation.
His build was as solid and robust as his features were striking. The robe he wore, woven from luxurious blue silk, seemed a natural part of him—a shade much deeper than the martial uniforms of the Desolate Fortress.
Clack.
A long-haired swordswoman from the Namgung Clan personally served them tea. Despite her solemn aura, her movements were careful and deliberate. She showed no hesitation in acting as a handmaiden; in fact, she seemed to have volunteered for the task.
"Thank you, Yeon Mae."
"……"
She answered the young master with a small smile before stepping back. Soon, she took her post by the annex doorway, standing guard over a place already heavily protected by Namgung warriors. They stood with the rigid posture of men protecting the most dignified person under heaven.
'So the rumors are true,' Jeong Yeon-shin thought. 'In Southern Zhili, they're like royalty.'
"I am glad to see you look well," the young master said, his gaze fixed warmly on Namgung Hwa-shin. "I heard the Desolate Fortress is a sect with strict laws. I was constantly worried, but it seems the air of Xiangyang suits you. You've grown much stronger."
"…It is thanks to you, brother."
"I suppose I played a small part." A playful smile touched the young master's lips. "You have no idea how much the elders scolded me. I was severely punished for helping you leave the clan. They forced me into closed-door cultivation for a month."
"Ah…"
"And because I was so worried about you, I achieved very little. The Imperial Sword Form is a difficult art to master. I wonder when I will ever reach the stage of great completion."
"I am sorry."
Namgung Hwa-shin bowed his head, his demeanor completely different from how he treated Namgung Mi. Sitting beside him, Jeong Yeon-shin had to admit that, on the surface, such respect seemed well-deserved.
The young master continued, "I understand why you volunteered for the martial duel. Since it was impossible to stop the Desolate Fortress's event, you must have wanted to settle things with your own hands. I am sorry, and my heart aches for you."
"Brother…"
"This is merely our clan's karmic retribution." Murmuring as if to himself, the young master suddenly turned his head. "And you are…"
An upright, intense gaze fell upon Jeong Yeon-shin, who met it without flinching.
"The Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress. We have met before. The sound art you displayed in Clear Night Valley… was incredibly impressive."
"Let me tell you what happened with Namgung Mi," Jeong Yeon-shin said, calmly holding his teacup.
The young master shook his head. "The Unorthodox expert who suddenly appeared? There is no need. Though she is my sister, Mi is a child who has accumulated much bad karma."
"Hmm…?"
"As the young master of our clan, I investigated the matter of the Hyeonsa Gate in Wuchang. She handled it in her own way. I only lament that, as her older brother, I failed to guide her properly. She has been collecting grudges day after day; it was bound to happen sooner or later."
"Brother!" Namgung Mi's sharp cry echoed from the guest room.
The young master closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, completely disregarding his sister. Whether it was due to the powerful internal energy he possessed as the clan's successor or simply his nature, the clear light burning in his eyes was exceptionally distinct. He stared silently at Jeong Yeon-shin for a moment before speaking.
"I, too, am a narrow-minded, petty man, much like the elders of our clan. Even after meeting you today, I hesitated. However, this is the right way to do things."
"What do you mean?"
"Apologizing to you should have come first."
With those words, the young master stood up.
Slide.
He moved to the side of the tea table. Slowly, his body leaned forward. He bent at the waist, extending his hands until his upper body was lowered all the way to the floor. Sharp intakes of breath echoed from all around.
Just like that, the young master of the Namgung Clan bowed deeply to a sixteen-year-old boy from a hostile sect.
"There is a saying, 'a hundred bows of apology,'" his voice echoed from the floor where he remained prostrate. "This is an apology that must be made. Though it is not my place to say this to you in the name of Namgung, this is… my deepest gratitude for your support in Clear Night Valley, an apology from the young master who repaid grace with betrayal, and the self-consolation of a coward who wishes to face you in a martial duel with at least a shred of honor."
"…"
The surrounding silence was heavy. It was said that a martial artist who held hegemony over a province of the Central Plains was no less than the king of a small nation. This meant the man destined to rule the Jianghu of Southern Zhili was practically a crown prince in both martial prowess and authority.
Jeong Yeon-shin looked down at him with a calm expression. The back of the young master's head showed no sign of rising. His resolve seemed unshakable.
'This man's swordsmanship will be terrifying.'
The boy's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he was stunned. This was a righteous man who clearly distinguished between gratitude and grudges. He had never expected to find the scent of chivalry he’d sensed from the seekers of the Nine Great Sects within a noble family—much less in his opponent for a life-or-death duel.
"This is not something for which I dare ask forgiveness. I know that Namgung's sins cannot be absolved by such a gesture. Since the martial duel is already scheduled, please simply accept this."
The young master did not raise his head for a long time. Namgung Hwa-shin remained silent, a bitter expression on his face. While the Namgung guards wore looks of shock and confusion, Jeong Yeon-shin took a sip of tea.
"You are right," he said. "The duel is set. Since one of us must die, there is no point in debating its meaning now."
"…"
"I will consider the young master's apology accepted. You should stand and state your business."
"Thank you."
The young master brushed himself off and rose to his feet. When he slowly raised his head, he wore an embarrassed smile.
'His mind is as refined as his skill,' Jeong Yeon-shin thought. The man before him possessed an unyielding inner strength. It was chilling, but it also made him curious. 'What kind of sword path does he walk?'
*
"I heard you encountered some trouble on your way here. I came to escort my sister, Hwa-shin, and you. Of course, I will dismiss my men. How could you possibly trust us, Flash Art?"
The young master did exactly as he promised, dismissing all the Namgung warriors who had accompanied him.
"It is only right for the young master to maintain his entourage."
"Wandering the Jianghu alone is for rogue cultivators."
Some of his men refused to leave, which was only natural. The Namgung Clan of Huizhou was considered one of the greatest families among the Orthodox Factions. As its young master, he could not simply roam the Jianghu unprotected.
"Do not bring any more shame upon me. I am embarrassed to face the experts of the Desolate Fortress. Abandon any thought of following from a distance. I will punish any disobedience with the Young Master's Decree."
He dismissed them with a calm but firm command. Namgung Mi wanted to leave with them, but the young master stopped her with a shake of his head.
"The spiritual energy of the Human-Shaped Snow Ginseng is miraculous; I know your body has recovered. This might be your last journey in the Jianghu. Besides, when have we siblings ever traveled the world together in peace?"
"What do you mean, last—!"
"Obey me. Huizhou is close. It will only take a few days."
And so, only four remained.
Jeong Yeon-shin's group departed from Huangju after an unintentional five-day stay, now with an unexpected traveling companion. They walked in silence down a forest path, their eight footprints occasionally marking the dirt dappled with golden sunlight.
Of course, with the Seventh Apostle still tailing Jeong Yeon-shin, perhaps it was more accurate to say ten footprints.
Namgung Hwa-shin and Namgung Mi. Jeong Yeon-shin and the young master. It was a group that could hardly walk in harmony, knowing that one by one, they were fated to die. Only the young master's heavy-handed jokes occasionally broke the silence.
"This is a good thing," the young master said suddenly. The smile he wore as he looked back and forth between Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin was strangely elegant. "The Flash Art and the White Qilin. The names of these two experts have begun to spread beyond Huguang. If you both survive, cherish this bond. A worthy rival is what tempers a man into a divine sword. For me, it was the Lazy Flame Dragon of the Hwangbo Clan, but I hear he is now imprisoned in the Desolate Fortress's Thunder Prison?"
"I don't know how he's still alive," Jeong Yeon-shin replied, recalling the man chewing on poppies with a crazed expression. It was hard to imagine him and the young master getting along.
"Though he seemed free-spirited, he was a foolish friend. He wanted to escape his family, but it remained a mere wish. We had much in common. It seems he found his own way to achieve that dream, but… indeed, one can never predict what will happen in the Jianghu."
The young master murmured with a bitter smile. Just then, the entire group spun around as one.
"Is the Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress there?!"
A voice infused with internal energy boomed through the forest. It was less a question and more an announcement. A group of armed men was rushing toward them from behind at a terrifying speed. There were about twenty of them, and the collective energy they exuded was extraordinary. The tranquil forest air began to tremble as if struck by a gale.
"You brat of the Desolate Fortress's Blue Rank! Face the punishment of the Eldest Son of the Deep Martial Alliance!"
One man stood out among them. The apparent leader lunged forward at an astonishing speed, his sword already drawn.
Swoosh!
He struck without warning or reason.
'The Deep Martial Alliance.'
Jeong Yeon-shin immediately recalled his journey to create the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand. He had boarded a ship with the rising stars of the Thirteen Heavens alongside Zen Master Won-jong of Shaolin. He had decapitated a woman named Geomyehwa for threatening an innocent. Afterward, Ma Jin had warned him to be wary of her fiancé.
The Hegemon Sword Sect, the Blood Flame Cult, and the Deep Martial Alliance. These were the factions from the Thirteen Heavens of the Unorthodox Factions that now held a grudge against him.
The Desolate Fortress had sent a formal challenge to the Namgung Clan, shaking the entire Jianghu. The duel's roster would be well-known, their route to Southern Zhili was obvious, and they had been delayed in Huangju for five days.
'It's no surprise that pursuers caught up.'
He had been prepared for this. Jeong Yeon-shin grabbed the hilt of his Desolate Fortress Sword.
Clang!
He drew his blade and met the man's head-on. The shockwave from the impact shot up his arm. It was an incredible force, far exceeding that of an ordinary expert.
Jeong Yeon-shin muttered, "The Eldest Son?"
"I am a centurion of our alliance! The Eldest Son sent me to punish you!" the middle-aged man bellowed.
'So you're not him,' Jeong Yeon-shin noted internally. The fact that he'd only brought twenty men was a secondary concern. His time was running out, yet his enemies kept multiplying. A flicker of worry arose. Would he die in this foreign land before he could even taste the fruit of his labor?
Just then, an overwhelming presence erupted. It came from the direction of the centurion's subordinates. In the wide, open space of the forest path, a monstrous momentum exploded from the young master of the Namgung Clan.
Whoosh!
It felt as if all the air was being forced out of the area. Simultaneously, the movements of the Deep Martial Alliance warriors slowed dramatically.
'No.'
They weren't just slow—they were practically frozen. The bodies of the twenty men were almost completely still. It was an unreal sight. These were warriors who had mastered the internal arts of the Thirteen Heavens.
It was a miracle. His martial prowess transcended common sense.
"The Imperial… Sword Form…" Namgung Hwa-shin, who had also drawn his sword, let out a low groan.
While Jeong Yeon-shin clashed with the centurion, the young master had stepped in front of the man's subordinates. A divine art was unfolding before Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes—the unique martial art of the Namgung Clan, said to be peerless under heaven.
"Azure Qilin! Why do you interfere?! The Desolate Fortress is the public enemy of the Jianghu! Shouldn't we slay these bastards first?!" the centurion shouted, still locked in a contest of strength with Jeong Yeon-shin.
The young master did not answer. Maintaining the divine art of the Imperial Sword Form, he looked at Jeong Yeon-shin and spoke.
"The news of you taking the head of the Eight-Fanged Rakshasa Sword of the Hegemon Sword Sect only recently reached Southern Zhili. Did you know the beggars of the Beggar Sect were watching? They call themselves freeloaders, but their discernment is second to none. I was able to buy some high-quality information."
He then turned back to the warriors of the Deep Martial Alliance, who stood frozen with their weapons drawn.
"I heard you are skilled at deciphering and destroying sword forms. That you unravel them and shatter them with ease. Therefore, I have no intention of showing you my swordsmanship beforehand."
"Haaah!"
The warriors trapped within the domain of the Imperial Sword Form let out strained battle cries, but not a single one could budge. Among them, the young master stood alone, lofty and aloof.
Drawing his brilliantly shining sword, he began to stroll down the forest path, slicing the necks of the immobilized enemies one by one. There was a chilling dignity in his leisurely steps. Not a single person could withstand his strikes, which weren't even special techniques. It was more accurate to say they couldn't even resist.
One man died with every breath, his life severed along with a despairing gasp. The saying 'expelling demons and eradicating evil' was no empty phrase; members of the Orthodox Factions showed no mercy. The young master's hand was resolute as he swung his sword, as was the way of all orthodox warriors when dealing with the Unorthodox Path.
Finally, when all the centurion's men lay dead, the young master asked quietly, "How about this? Flash Art, can you shatter this?"
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. In an instant, he flipped his Desolate Fortress Sword into a reverse grip and threw it. With an explosion of internal energy, he drove it forward with full force.
He lunged straight into the chest of the centurion, who had barely managed to deflect the thrown sword. Grabbing the dazed man's blade along with his own, Jeong Yeon-shin pressed his left palm against his opponent's abdomen. He had already activated the Mara Blood-Roaring Art and the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand simultaneously, the sorcerous formation in his palm binding the two opposing arts into one.
Swoosh!
Jeong Yeon-shin made no attempt to hide it. He fully revealed his incomplete palm technique. His opponent was clearly an inferior fighter, so he unleashed it without concern for casting time or precision.
Boom!
A tremendous vibration shook the air. The surrounding trees trembled, and flocks of startled birds burst into the sky.
"…"
The centurion's unrecognizable corpse was blasted far into the distance.
Jeong Yeon-shin shook the blood from his hand and turned his head. He caught sight of Namgung Hwa-shin's slightly furrowed brow and Namgung Mi's look of sheer shock. Then, his eyes met the young master's, which were wide with surprise.
"I have shown you mine," the boy said.
The psychological warfare had begun. The martial duel was already underway.