Chapter 320
Chapter 320
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 320
Chapter Title: Yi Seong-ji Heads for the Red River
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The Imperial Palace of the Qin Kingdom.
A general was reporting the situation at Guizhou Fortress to Crown Prince Yang Mu.
"Fierce back-and-forth fighting continues without respite. However, the northwestern front has been pushed back twenty li to the south by the enemy."
"The Yi Tae-ji who defected to the Zhao Kingdom is rampaging unchecked?"
"Yes. They say his martial prowess is truly formidable. Over ten generals have already fallen to him."
"What the hell were our fighters doing to let so many generals get taken out?"
"The first day caught them off guard, but even after beefing up their escorts, it didn't help."
"Hmm..."
Yang Mu's eyes burned with anger.
"Then we should have sent the White-Clothed Sword God there."
"He's assigned to guard the Grand General..."
"The Grand General is surrounded by more than enough fighters! Send the White-Clothed Sword God to the western front right now. That's an order from me!"
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The general withdrew.
Yang Mu sank deep into his chair, his gaze cooling. He was furious, yet perplexed at the same time.
"Who would've thought some nobody would pop up out of nowhere."
When reports came in that the Zhao Kingdom was on the move, the Qin Kingdom had swiftly identified the key martial artists to watch—over a hundred in total. Yi Tae-ji hadn't been among them.
That was when it hit him. The Third Prince, Yi Seong-ji.
A faint smile tugged at Yang Mu's lips.
"I wonder if he can really swing his blade at his own flesh and blood."
* * *
Blood-red breastplate adorned with sturdy yet ornate pauldrons and helmet.
Yi Seong-ji, transformed into a Qin general, cut an imposing figure that drew gasps of admiration from all who beheld him.
Thanks to his stellar merits in quelling the Dark Heaven Cult's rebellion, he had risen to command a unit, but his face was not just grave—it was frozen stiff. It was all because of Crown Prince Yang Mu's recent order.
Lead your unit to the Red River at once and engage the Zhao forces.
Yi Seong-ji, who had learned through various channels that Yi Tae-ji was at the Red River, roughly grasped Yang Mu's intentions.
Gong Ya-un gazed at Yi Seong-ji with a heavy expression.
How could he not know what was in Yi Seong-ji's heart? Yet he couldn't bring himself to say a word.
Yi Seong-ji remained silent for a long while. Only after a considerable time did he lift his bowed head and meet Gong Ya-un's eyes.
"Are you worried about me?"
Gong Ya-un couldn't bring himself to reply.
A wistful smile crossed Yi Seong-ji's lips.
"Don't worry. He's the one who tried to kill me anyway. Any brotherly bonds vanished long ago, so if we cross paths on the battlefield, don't hesitate to strike."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Yi Seong-ji stood.
Clang!
The ornaments on his armor clinked and rattled. It was a gift from Crown Prince Yang Mu upon appointing him acting commander.
Gong Ya-un rose to follow.
Moments later, as Yi Seong-ji and Gong Ya-un stepped outside, several generals approached.
"Leaving right away?"
"Has everyone finished preparations?"
"Yes!"
Yi Seong-ji looked up at the sky. In stark contrast to his tangled emotions, the sky seemed exceptionally blue and vast today.
When he lowered his gaze moments later, his eyes had turned chillingly cold.
"Let's go, Master."
* * *
"Urgh..."
Yi Tae-ji looked down at the dying enemy general's eyes and sneered coldly.
"You were at least somewhat brave."
Stab!
Thud!
Blood dripped from the drawn sword.
The blood soaking the ground stained even Yi Tae-ji's pupils red.
Yi Tae-ji slowly raised his head to survey the battlefield. Fierce clashes raged everywhere, but the tide was steadily turning in favor of the Zhao forces.
"What a bore."
Yi Tae-ji was utterly relaxed, as if savoring the war itself.
A man in blue robes approached.
"Shall we press further?"
"No, that's enough for today."
"We could push down plenty more."
"Pass. Show too much too soon, and they'll start expecting even more. Better to dampen their spirits."
"Understood."
Yi Tae-ji wiped the blood from his sword on the dead man's armor and turned away.
Fighters gathered from all sides—his close aides or those assigned by the Empress.
A man in yellow robes handed him a flask of liquor.
"Have some, Your Highness."
"Thanks."
Yi Tae-ji drained the flask in one go.
"I'll rest a bit, so handle the wrap-up yourselves. Oh, and no accepting surrenders. More heads just means more hassle."
"Got it."
Yi Tae-ji entered the woods with a small escort and didn't emerge, as if the battle had nothing to do with him.
How much time passed?
"Argh!"
"Ugh!"
"It's the White-Clothed Sword God!"
"Fall back!"
Sudden uproar erupted on the battlefield.
A warrior rushed to Yi Tae-ji, who lounged leisurely in repose.
"The White-Clothed Sword God has appeared! He's brought a bunch of elites too!"
Yi Tae-ji bolted from the woods. The battlefield, where victory had seemed secured, was flipping in that short span.
He fixed his gaze on the group shredding the Zhao lines—there stood Baek Woo-kyeong, the White-Clothed Sword God.
'The White-Clothed Sword God...'
The moment he spotted him, all leisure vanished.
Baek Woo-kyeong, Qin Kingdom's proud strongest warrior. Who in the world could face him with ease?
An aide spoke up.
"We can't take him on. Withdraw quickly, Your Highness."
Yi Tae-ji silently furrowed his brow, eyeing one of the enemy generals—the commander of the unit fighting here.
"What an idiot. Order the retreat already."
Scarce had his mutter ended when the retreat horn blared across the field.
Bwooo!
Yi Tae-ji turned without regret.
"Pull back."
* * *
Several days later, at the Qin camp south of the Red River.
Yi Seong-ji arrived leading his troops. He first paid respects to Grand General Won Gae-se, then headed to his assigned tent.
Word of his advance had preceded him, so the tent for him and his men was fully prepared.
Yi Seong-ji entered and removed his armor.
Gong Ya-un, returning late from somewhere, stepped inside.
"I looked into it. Apparently, the Second Prince dealt heavy blows to the Qin forces in the meantime. The northwest front where he is retreated twenty li south, only barely recovering once the White-Clothed Sword God stepped in."
"I see."
"But I heard something odd."
"Odd?"
"They say the bodies of those he defeated bore burn marks like they'd been scorched by fire. Did you know he had mastered some such technique?"
"No, I didn't. Her Majesty the Empress has collected martial manuals from all over the world for ages—probably picked one up from there and trained in it. Either way, we should stay vigilant. I don't know what technique he's mastered, but he showed exceptional talent in martial arts from a young age. That very talent led him to dreams he shouldn't have harbored, bringing him to this point."
"..."
Clang.
Yi Seong-ji removed even his pauldrons and continued.
"The Grand General wants us on that front where he is. We leave at dawn tomorrow, so rest up, Master."
"Such ruthless bastards. Forcing brothers to fight each other on purpose..."
"It was our fate the moment the Crown Prince sent us here. I'll go wash up now."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Yi Seong-ji left the tent and headed to the lake north of the camp. Gong Ya-un watched him go, letting out a quiet sigh.
'Killing the Second Prince might solidify his position more firmly. But I worry if he'll overcome the pain and anguish afterward.'
Meanwhile, Yi Seong-ji waded into the lake fully clothed. Originating from towering peaks, the water was bitingly cold, like midwinter.
Yi Seong-ji submerged all but his face. The chill seeped to his bones, yet his mind cleared like a mirror.
'So he mastered Hellfire after all.'
Hellfire was an ancient demonic art whose origins were utterly unknown.
So how did Yi Seong-ji know of it?
Because he too had mastered Hellfire.
In the past, Yi Seong-ji had visited Yi Tae-ji's quarters and chanced upon an ancient manual on the table—none other than the Hellfire manual inscribed with its formulas.
At the time, nursing deep resentment toward Yi Tae-ji's favored Hong Seon, Yi Seong-ji sought to prove his own martial genius und inferior to his brother's. He memorized the entire Hellfire formula on the spot.
In truth, he had been overlooked merely for being the younger brother, but Yi Seong-ji's aptitude was in no way inferior to Yi Tae-ji's. Fully devouring and committing the manual to memory in that brief time proved it.
Hellfire's formulas were profoundly abstruse and difficult to comprehend.
Yet over long years of rumination, Yi Seong-ji gained insights bit by bit, finally perfecting Hellfire during his last visit to the secluded chamber before leaving the capital.
Even his master, Gong Ya-un, knew nothing of this.
'If fate decrees one of us must die...'
Splash!
Yi Seong-ji lay flat on the lake bed.
He remained motionless for a long time.
* * *
Several days later, Go Mi visited Yi Hwan's office.
"I've investigated as you ordered."
Days prior, Yi Hwan had tasked her with probing how Jo Yun was funding his operations.
Go Mi detailed her findings. Yi Hwan sipped tea, listening silently.
When she finished, he nodded gravely.
"A gold mine... I thought he was overextending to placate the people, but he had this ace up his sleeve."
"Yes. Securing that massive resource let him pour funds into disaster relief without restraint."
"Turning that gold mine into a useless hole could deal a serious blow."
"Pardon? You don't mean..."
"Yes. We're heading there. With Jo Yun distracted elsewhere, this is our only shot."
Yi Hwan donned his outer robe and stood.
"I'll see His Majesty first, then tell the others to prepare to depart—everyone except Yang Chan. He needs to whip up a new poison ASAP."
"Understood. When do we leave?"
"Dawn tomorrow."
"Got it."
Moments later, Yi Hwan boarded his carriage. He promptly unrolled an ancient tome.
It was from the Imperial Palace Treasury.
The tome chronicled major events in the murim world from its birth up to a century prior, along with figures who profoundly shaped it.
And more: rare divine weapons, spirit herbs, and martial arts unknown to the wider world, all meticulously documented.
Yi Hwan skimmed past other sections to focus on the martial arts entries. One passage made his eyes gleam.
'Rankings of demonic arts...'
It ranked the strongest demonic arts in murim history by the author's reckoning.
Top was the Heavenly Demon Divine Gong of the Heavenly Demon, revered as the progenitor of the demonic path.
Next, the author named the Blood Demon's art. Noting they weren't contemporaries, direct comparison was impossible; perhaps the Blood Demon's was even superior.
'The Heavenly Demon clawing out of his grave, huh.'
Several more demonic arts followed, none matching the Heavenly Demon or Blood Demon but each the pinnacle and nadir of their era.
One snagged Yi Hwan's attention.
'Hellfire?'
Among the myriad listed, it alone matched the traces left by Yi Tae-ji's techniques perfectly.
The entry closed with this assessment:
Should one reach the pinnacle of Hellfire, it could upend the demonic rankings.
A staggering claim—especially given the author's prior praise for the Heavenly Demon and Blood Demon.
Thud.
Yi Hwan tucked the murim chronicle into his bosom and leaned against the carriage wall.
Yi Tae-ji's arrogant visage naturally surfaced, narrowing Yi Hwan's brows ever so slightly.
'He might just be the most troublesome foe of all.'