Chapter 93: The Art of Instant Death (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 93: The Art of Instant Death (5)
Jeong Yeon-shin’s thoughts drifted to the martial arts he had left behind in the Gold-Piercing Martial Library of the Desolate Fortress. With the sole exception of the Jeong Family Dynamic Art, he had donated every single one.
His martial path was in a state of constant advancement. Compared to his dwindling lifespan, martial arts bound to the mundane pages of a manual were trivial.
Just how much merit would he receive in return?
Donating sect-exclusive martial arts to the main fortress yielded merit. He had heard their value was assessed based on how much they universally bolstered the fortress's overall strength.
This meant the assessment didn't rely solely on the subjective discernment of top-tier experts. It was a departure from the traditional values of ordinary Jianghu martial artists; word had it that the Imperial Family employed their own unique standards.
‘The Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand had no other practitioners, yet it yielded high merit. They said it was because dharma power martial arts are so rare.’
There was a distinct reason his mind had wandered to the merit system. Jeong Yeon-shin looked up, remaining silent.
“I asked for your hand, you know,” Namgung Mi said, smiling provocatively right in front of him.
Her wet hair clung to her pale neck. She gazed intently at Jeong Yeon-shin, looking as though the summer rain had never bothered her in the slightest.
‘Did she notice something?’
He recalled his disguised identity as a Blood Flame Cultist. Exposure would be troublesome.
A sudden curiosity sparked within him. Would Namgung Mi's head be worth as much merit as the Infinite Flower of Time Fist? She was, after all, a direct descendant of the Eight Great Families.
It might even rival the Eight-Fanged Rakshasa Sword of the Hegemon Sword Sect. Setting martial prowess aside, her political value alone was astronomical.
Namgung Mi spoke again, a playful smile on her lips. “Don't get the wrong idea. I'm just curious to see how much you've polished your swordplay.”
“You're openly trying to measure an enemy's attainment?”
“Enemy? How could you possibly be an enemy? Unless, of course, you count being the fertilizer that spreads our family's prestige once more.”
“You have no shame. Your opponent is the Young Hero White Qilin.”
“But I'm curious about you.”
She leaned in slightly, her demeanor incredibly coquettish. Yet, the sharp glint in her eyes reminded him of the Seventh Apostle—a clear sign she harbored ulterior motives.
“……”
Jeong Yeon-shin didn't reply. He simply walked past her. They had finally arrived at the Namgung Clan estate, and there was no reason to give them any pretext to act.
“You two might have made a fine match,” the Young Master remarked absurdly. As he looked between his younger sister and the boy, his smile was gentle—a stark contrast to Namgung Mi's venomous vibe.
Deciding not to waste his breath on the siblings, Jeong Yeon-shin silently fell into step beside Namgung Hwa-shin. Soon, they stood before the largest complex of pavilions in Huizhou.
The walls stretching out on either side were as massive as fortress ramparts. He had seen it once before on his way to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, but it remained far too grand to be called a mere family estate.
The reason people revered them as a "Noble Family" was glaringly obvious from the exterior alone.
南宮.
“Namgung…” Namgung Hwa-shin muttered, staring up at the plaque on the main gate.
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly observed his companion. The steadfast, unyielding spirit Namgung Hwa-shin usually carried was nowhere to be seen.
The only reason Jeong Yeon-shin had so easily suppressed Namgung Mi earlier was the elemental compatibility between his Jeong Family Dynamic Art and her ice-based martial arts.
Could Namgung Hwa-shin defeat her? He would have to overcome both the sorcery-induced oath of loyalty and her bone-chilling cold energy.
‘The Chief Steward's Office spoke of a total victory.’
They had declared that this mission would only be meaningful if the Desolate Fortress Expeditionary Unit executed every single opponent, paving the way for the collateral branch to replace the current Namgung leadership.
“It is an honor to welcome such outstanding individuals to our main estate,” said the Young Master, nodding to the gatekeepers.
His gesture toward the main gate exuded effortless grace. Nodding slightly, Jeong Yeon-shin stepped forward.
At last, they had entered the Namgung Clan.
* * *
After unpacking his bags and bathing, Jeong Yeon-shin changed into a spare Desolate Fortress martial uniform in his assigned guest room.
Soon after, he was invited to the Namgung Clan's formal banquet.
‘Is there a martial art that trains one to have a thick skin?’ Jeong Yeon-shin wondered dryly as he took his seat in the elegantly decorated dining hall.
Men and women clad in luxurious silk robes, the Young Master, and Namgung Mi were all present.
They were seated around a massive oval dining table. Beside the boy sat Namgung Hwa-shin.
Namgung Hwa-shin was trembling ever so slightly—a detail that all ten people at the table undoubtedly noticed. At a glance, every single person present was a high-level expert.
Unlike the Young Master, they all seemed to treat the illegitimate son as if he didn't exist. Not a single soul spared a glance for Namgung Hwa-shin. The eyes of the direct line were focused entirely on Jeong Yeon-shin.
“So, you are the Flash Art.”
Jeong Yeon-shin looked toward the speaker. It was a middle-aged man who perfectly suited his elegant indigo robe. This was the man said to embody the Namgung Clan itself.
His features were sharp and distinct. The faces of the Young Master, Namgung Mi, and Namgung Hwa-shin could all be traced back to his.
Jeong Yeon-shin's gaze drifted to the Namgung Clan Head's waist. A bluish hilt hung from his belt.
The words engraved on the guard were faintly illuminated by the lamplight.
Though one's ambition may rise above the clouds, the southern wall is too high. (凌雲之志 南牆太高)
—Even if one possesses an ambition that transcends the secular world, one cannot scale the southern wall.
Due to the legend surrounding the weapon, this phrase was famously interpreted as a warning. This was the Southern Wall Sword, the ultimate symbol of the Namgung Clan.
It was said to be a peerless masterpiece forged by the Ironfolk. A divine, mystical aura enveloped the master of the Namgung Clan.
Sensing Jeong Yeon-shin's gaze, the Namgung Clan Head smiled faintly.
“Are you familiar with the Ming Cult rebellion that erupted in the Tianshan Mountains? Our family's former Supreme Elder personally slew the Three Venerables of the Ming Cult. This sword is an heirloom bestowed upon us by the Emperor himself, and there have been few occasions to draw it. Thus, I can only be grateful to you. When else would I have the opportunity to test my martial prowess against the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps?”
“I find it difficult to accept your self-praise, Clan Head. I have already received enough apologies and gratitude from the Young Master,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied flatly, pointedly calling out the Clan Head's refusal to apologize for the Clear Night Valley Incident.
Beside him, he immediately felt Namgung Hwa-shin's breath hitch. At this point, it was simply pitiful.
“It is astonishing that you can speak so boldly even while looking at the Southern Wall Sword.”
The woman seated to the Clan Head's left spoke. She was the most lavishly adorned expert at the table.
“The wall that protects Southern Zhili is my husband and my children. The Desolate Fortress dares to speak of the people's livelihood? If you truly cared for them, you would never have sent a challenge for a life-and-death duel. This entire farce is the result of your narrow-mindedness. How dare you demand an apology when you lack the vision to see the bigger picture?”
This was the Grand Madam of the Namgung Clan. Her shamelessness easily surpassed even Namgung Mi's.
“I see now that Changryeong Hwaju's personality takes after her mother's side of the family,” Jeong Yeon-shin stated flatly, implying that her daughter, Namgung Mi, was exactly like her.
The Grand Madam's brow furrowed. As a noble lady, she had likely never experienced such blatant disrespect. Instantly, powerful waves of energy erupted from five or six experts surrounding her.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not hesitate to stand up.
In any case, they couldn't touch him or Namgung Hwa-shin right now. They had traveled here in broad daylight, and the eyes of the entire Jianghu were fixed on this event.
He had sensed various presences trailing them when they entered the Namgung Clan estate. The Beggar Sect of the Nine Sects and One Gang, the bat-like Hao Sect, the Yeoryeong of the Thirteen Heavens... they were far from alone.
“Last time, you discarded me like a useless hound when I was an ally. Now, I am an enemy who has walked defenselessly into your inner sanctum, yet your family's restraint in not striking me down is truly marvelous. You manage to suppress your true nature quite well. I wonder if it is because the eyes of the entire world are focused on this duel.”
“Young Master. Do not let that child die a peaceful death,” the Grand Madam of the Namgung Clan spoke coldly.
The Young Master grimaced in distaste; he had been listening with an uncomfortable expression the entire time.
“This is my affair now! Elders, please...!”
It was then. A powerful vibration erupted from beyond the high ceiling. The table and the surrounding furniture shook violently.
[You insolent wretches! What did you just babble—!]
An elderly voice struck in all directions like a massive earthquake, infused with an immense amount of true qi.
Six Harmonies Sound Transmission. It was a super-ascension technique where a single shout filled the entire universe.
With a deafening crash, the ceiling shattered.
Boom!
A purple figure plunged straight into the center of the table like a bolt of lightning.
The violent wave of energy whipping around his robust frame threatened to choke the very breath out of everyone present.
A thick cloud of dust rose belatedly. From within the haze, an old man stood up.
“Say that once more.”
The voice that had unleashed the Six Harmonies Sound Transmission rang out, dripping with fury.
He had sharp, blade-like eyes and a massive build. His pure white beard hung down to his solar plexus, carrying the elegance of a masterfully crafted brush. The purple robe draped over his muscular frame had a stiff collar that stood upright, mirroring the old man's unyielding temperament.
‘Grandfather.’
Jeong Yeon-shin stared at Ma Yeon-jeok in a daze. He was not the only one.
As the experts of the Namgung Clan stood dumbfounded, the old man sitting to the right of the Namgung Clan Head groaned.
“Commander of the Divine Sword Corps...”
“Namgung Elder Council Head. Are you still living in the distant past? How long has it been since I passed my Sword of Divine Attainment to the next generation?” Ma Yeon-jeok, Head of the Desolate Ma Clan, spoke coldly.
He turned his gaze back to the Grand Madam of Namgung. A woman with absolutely no justification had dared to persecute his grandson.
It was utterly absurd. Rage flared once more across Ma Yeon-jeok's wrinkled face.
“How dare you ungrateful wretches speak of my grandson's death! The Castle Lord may not have ordered the extermination of this Namgung mongrel family, but—!”
“My wife made a slip of the tongue. Head of the Ma Clan, please calm your anger,” the Namgung Clan Head said calmly. He alone looked peaceful amidst the surging waves of internal power.
Ma Yeon-jeok glared at him for a moment before speaking again, having seemingly suppressed his fury. Only his eyes, which looked ready to ignite at any moment, smoldered with colorless heat.
“The date of the duel is the Qixi Festival. Prepare yourselves with humility.”
“Very well,” the Namgung Clan Head replied.
Only then did Ma Yeon-jeok turn around. His eyes trembled slightly the moment they met Jeong Yeon-shin's. He tilted his head a fraction, almost as if he were walking on eggshells around his grandson. His fierce demeanor vanished in an instant.
“I'm sorry I couldn't accompany you from the start.”
“It is fine. I heard you were on a mission from the Castle Lord.”
“I completed it ahead of schedule. I spotted you just as you were entering Huizhou, but a rather powerful Blood Ghost was targeting your back from nearby. I couldn't easily make my move.”
“A Blood Ghost...?”
“It appeared to be an Apostle of the wicked cult.” Ma Yeon-jeok grimaced in annoyance and continued. “You don't need to worry anymore. The Elder Council Head of the main fortress is pursuing her. Clumsy as that old man may be, his martial prowess is the real deal. He will bring back that wench's head soon enough.”
“The Elder Council Head...”
“Let's move our quarters. How can anyone comfortably perform Qi Meditation in such filthy water?”
Nodding slowly, Jeong Yeon-shin followed Ma Yeon-jeok. Namgung Hwa-shin silently fell in line beside the boy, casting only a single glance back.
* * *
They relocated to the largest inn in Huizhou. Everything, from the bedding to the drinking water, was of the highest quality.
Jeong Yeon-shin immersed himself in the flow of time and consciousness.
In the meantime, a proposal for a "winner-stays-on" format arrived from Namgung Mi. She proposed starting with the youngest, with the victor continuing on to the next duel.
It seemed she intended to surrender only after cutting down both Namgung Hwa-shin and Jeong Yeon-shin.
“A worthless wench who doesn't know her place. The Namgung lot are truly something else, turning a blind eye to such blatant arrogance.” Ma Yeon-jeok clicked his tongue as he scanned the letter.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned to look at Namgung Hwa-shin. “I would like to accept. What do you think, Young Hero Namgung?”
If they accepted, there would be no opportunity for White Qilin to shine. His turn would only come after Jeong Yeon-shin was defeated and killed by the Young Master.
The boy actually preferred it that way. Having traveled with the Namgung siblings earlier, he knew that Namgung Hwa-shin's mental state was the real issue.
He had been raised as the leader of Sword Night, the Namgung Clan's assassin group. The mental block forbidding him from harming the direct line had penetrated deep into his consciousness through sorcery.
Hoping for a dramatic victory from White Qilin was a vain expectation. Realistically, it was impossible.
‘That's the kind of thing you only hear in heroic legends.’
“……”
Would he bring trouble upon the Desolate Fortress? Or would he struggle to personally avenge his mother?
After deep consideration, Namgung Hwa-shin agreed to accept the winner-stays-on format. Another opportunity for him to overcome his past would surely present itself.
That day, Jeong Yeon-shin silently stayed by his companion's side for a long time.
Days flew by. As he refined his martial arts, the Qixi Festival arrived. Perhaps because he had been constantly on the move without rest, he had merely begun to quietly contemplate his martial arts, yet a completely different world unfolded before him. A massive shift in perspective occurred.
‘Infinite Flower of Time Hand: Fourth Form... I can perfect it in actual combat.’
The day of the life-and-death duel between the Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Clan arrived.
Jeong Yeon-shin leaned back against his bed. He closed the copy of the Diamond Sutra he had been reading, folding away the phrase: Abide Nowhere, Yet Let the Mind Arise.
“It's today! I'm truly excited.”
“Who did you bet on?”
“In Southern Zhili, it has to be the Namgung Clan. There are barely any rising stars in the world who could hope to defeat their Young Master.”
“That's meaningless. How can you overlook the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps of the Desolate Fortress?”
“Then what about the Namgung Clan Head?”
It felt like only yesterday that the Young Master had lamented a poor harvest, yet Huizhou was now enjoying an unprecedented boom. It was all thanks to the crowds flocking from every corner of the Jianghu to witness the earth-shaking duel. Martial artists, merchants, commoners, and even royalty had gathered.
The clamor of the massive city reached its absolute peak on this day. He heard that high-stakes gambling was rampant. A feverish madness seemed to boil in the streets.
“Young Hero Jeong,” Namgung Hwa-shin called out to him, his face tense.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly stood up.
‘Namgung Mi is not the problem.’
The boy thought of the Young Master. Every time he did, his mind burned white-hot with anticipation.
The fear of death, the competitive spirit he had acquired as a martial artist, his curiosity about the peerless divine art of the Imperial Sword Form...
That was enough. Nothing else mattered now.
Not the bustling cityscape that unfolded the moment he stepped out of the inn, nor the Commander of the Divine Sword Corps who glanced at him for the first time, nor even the Divine Sword Squad—said to be the strongest unit under the 17th Unit of the Divine Sword Corps.
Before he knew it, he was standing in the middle of Clear Night Valley, the very place where he had once been cornered by the Seventh Apostle. He had walked here completely lost in thought.
―――!
The vast canyon was packed to the brim with spectators.
“Changryeong Hwaju! Please look this way just once! I adore you!”
“Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress! Don't you dare touch a single hair on our lady's head!”
“Young Hero Jeong, the Flash Art! Please uphold the justice of the Jianghu!”
Gathered like armies preparing for a decisive battle, their clamor roared like thunder. It was a spectacular sight, as if the entire Jianghu of the Central Plains had converged on this single spot.
“I wanted to find out who you really were, but I suppose I'll just have to examine the inside of your corpse instead.”
Namgung Mi stood there with a spiteful smile. The duel was about to begin. They were surrounded on all sides by martial artists of the Namgung Clan and the Divine Sword Squad.
“You and Hwa-shin... try as I might, I could never grow fond of either of you,” Namgung Mi murmured.
The precious sword in her hand shone brilliantly. A coiled, surging power carrying a bone-chilling cold rushed toward him.
Whirrr!
Jeong Yeon-shin unleashed the Jeong Family Dynamic Art to its absolute limit. Since consuming the high-grade spirit elixir, this was the first time he had pushed his power this far outside of his battle against the Seventh Apostle.
He envisioned the enemy before him as the Seventh Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult. Only by doing so could he end this instantly.
His dynamic art, now at the Stage of Great Completion, erupted. A majestic flame began to flood his Eight Extraordinary Meridians and Twelve Primary Meridians.
Swish.
Namgung Mi executed a profound footwork. She glided forward so lightly that it was impossible to predict her next position.
It was said that the martial artists of the Namgung Clan studied the Book of Changes from the Four Books and Three Classics, making them exceptionally well-versed in the Eight Trigrams. They had even incorporated the principles of formation arts into their Body Protection Scripture.
In that instant, Jeong Yeon-shin executed the Radiant Wing Second Step. It was just like when he had broken through the Lord of the Desolate Fortress's overwhelming pressure to seize the Thunder Immortal Treasure Wine.
Tap.
The wind rising from his foot swept away all competing energy waves. With a single step, he unraveled everything that sought to deceive his eyes.
Namgung Mi's elegantly swaying figure came to a sudden, jarring halt, as if a curtain had been violently pulled back.
“Ah...?”
Had the terrifying foresight granted by his Upper Dantian somehow reached her senses as well? A look of sheer, unadulterated terror suddenly washed over Namgung Mi's striking features. The elegant beauty she had maintained just moments ago completely shattered, her face twisting and distorting beyond recognition as the suffocating reality of her impending death finally set in. Perhaps the incomplete palm technique he had deliberately shown her during their previous encounter had lulled her into a false sense of security. It had made her arrogant, complacent in her noble pedigree. She had underestimated him far too much, blinding herself to the true depths of the monstrous talent standing before her.
‘Even though we are no longer traveling companions,’ Jeong Yeon-shin thought, his mind as cold and unyielding as the steel resting at his waist. There was no room for hesitation in the martial world, and no lingering sentiment for the brief time they had shared the road.
Shiiing!
A brilliant, blinding ray of light rapidly coalesced in Jeong Yeon-shin's right hand. It was an explosion of pure, lethal intent. He drew his blade with the explosive, unstoppable velocity of a falling comet, the pristine steel tearing through the very fabric of the air as he slashed upward in a flawless, inescapable arc.
Squelch.
The sickening, visceral sound of tearing flesh and violently shattering energy echoed out into the gorge. The razor-sharp edge of the Desolate Fortress Sword met the Namgung Clan's highly vaunted, secret body protection qi—and tore right through the glowing barrier as effortlessly as a sharp blade parting wet paper. The legendary defenses of the orthodox faction's noble clan meant absolutely nothing against the sheer, overwhelming concentration of his martial intent.
The deadly trajectory of the Radiant Brilliance Sword Style extended without a single fraction of hesitation. It was a masterpiece of lethal efficiency. In a fraction of an instant, a blinding flash of white light cleaved cleanly through the air, completely severing Namgung Mi's neck before she could even draw a breath to scream.
A heavy, gruesome sensation traveled down the length of the blade and straight into the hilt, vibrating heavily against his palm. The tactile feedback of bone and muscle giving way was undeniable. He had completely and perfectly severed her head from her shoulders.
Whoosh!
The immense martial force concentrated at the very tip of his blade violently whipped up a sudden, fierce gale, scattering the surrounding dust and fresh blood into the night air. Without breaking his fluid, practiced motion, the Desolate Fortress Sword returned to its starting position. The gleaming steel traced a breathtaking, circular path through the air, leaving behind a lingering afterimage that looked exactly like a pale lunar halo.
Brushing past Namgung Mi's instantly collapsing, headless body, the blood-slicked blade slid flawlessly back into Jeong Yeon-shin's scabbard with a sharp, definitive click.
It had only taken a single strike. One breath, one movement, one life abruptly extinguished.
“I don't care. Whoever you are,” the young boy muttered flatly, his voice devoid of any warmth, hesitation, or remorse as he cast a cold, indifferent gaze down at the ruined corpse bleeding out at his feet.
In the wake of his chilling words, the vast expanse of the Clear Night Valley fell completely, utterly dead silent. The ambient sounds of the night, the rustling wind, and the echoes of their brief, violent confrontation vanished entirely, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating stillness that settled over the gorge like a violently extinguished ember.