Chapter 182 – Swordsman (5)

Rustle.

A massive circular table brushed against a variety of robe hems.

Figures cloaked in exceptional bearing took their seats. Their glossy, multicolored garments shimmered with refinement.

Each piece was pristine silk. True to the orthodox martial aristocracy who devoted their mornings to cultivating supreme techniques, their complexions were extraordinary.

These were individuals who sweated daily in prestigious families. Not one skipped their ritual cleansing.

“The blue sky is strikingly vivid today. It felt almost like spring.”

A middle-aged man with a refined demeanor sat at the farthest seat from the door. In his left hand, he held a white crane fan adorned with teal tassels.

His snow-white robe paired impeccably with his equally pristine skin, complemented by a slender jawline and thick eyebrows.

A visage befitting the father of the Fan Dragon, Zhuge Xian.

It was the Zhuge Family Head.

Also known as the Reincarnation of the Crouching Dragon.

He didn’t possess the miraculous strategies of divine calculation. Rather, it meant he carried the appearance and dignity worthy of comparison to Zhuge Liang of the Shu Kingdom.

His mastery of mystical martial arts, fitting for a family head, contributed to his moniker, Reincarnation of the Crouching Dragon. Rumors even circulated that he could occasionally influence the weather.

The Zhuge Family Head continued calmly.

“The sword of youth slicing across the heavens was so splendid it was hard to believe. Wasn’t it dazzlingly beautiful?”

“…”

This was about Jeong Yeon-shin, the Lightning Genius.

They had gathered to devise countermeasures.

The Radiant Demon Wing Leader had finally joined the Opening Tournament. Muddy waters were about to taint an event meant to elevate the Alliance’s reputation.

The domineering might displayed by the boy in black from Desolate Fortress reminded some veteran martial artists of Ma Yeon-jeok, the Tyrant Hero.

The monster of the Desolate Fortress, clad in purple robes at age thirty.

“We were prepared to endure the shame. It was a hard-won decision, but it seems human affairs indeed return to justice. Our wretched schemes didn’t work.”

The Zhuge Family Head gave a faint smile.

Silence followed. The atmosphere in the room contrasted with his expression. A chill permeated the air around the elegant round table.

No one present was unaware that the true power of the Alliance Conference was greatly displeased.

“What of the Alliance Leader?”

A middle-aged swordsman with piercing eyes abruptly asked.

It was the Murong Family Head. He wore a deeper pink robe than his son, Murong Ming-jun.

His casual resting of a hand on his sword in the meeting hall felt oddly natural. For Liaodong’s foremost swordsman, any eccentricity was permissible.

“Ah, I’ve been disorderly.”

The Zhuge Family Head’s smile deepened.

“The words I just recited came from the Alliance Leader.”

“That solitary wandering swordsman?”

The Murong Family Head frowned as he countered.

It was a solemn meeting hall. Only the light filtering through the window entered quietly. Dust swam lazily amid the glow illuminating the table.

No one reacted to the Murong Family Head’s casual reference to the Sword Star, except for a slight disturbance in the expressions of some younger talents like Zhuge Xian and Gong Sun-min.

Zhuge Xian and Yue Ye-lin, parting ways with the Radiant Demon Wing Leader at West Peak Road, had returned safely.

They hadn’t pointlessly headed toward Sevenfold Gorge and encountered the Swimming Heaven Sword Ghost.

This was thanks to a short letter delivered via a spirit beast from the Diancang Sect, held by Little Sword Queen Qu Su-yu. The two had long shared a rapport.

‘Uncomfortable.’

Zhuge Xian thought.

Regardless of what others said, the Radiant Demon Wing Leader he’d met was a boy with a certain purity.

Despite wielding supreme martial prowess at a young age, he listened attentively to Zhuge Xian’s words.

When dealing with common folk, he was a boy befitting his years. He even carried the death of the Azure Qilin in his heart.

He could have easily vilified the entire Namgung Family alongside them.

‘Had Jeong Yeon-shin been a family scion, he’d likely have disparaged the character of those he killed with his own hands, claiming his actions just. I’ve seen it too often. Even in our own family…’

The young Radiant Demon Wing Leader didn’t do that. He was a verdant hero, like a fresh sprout. He shouldn’t be the target of such schemes.

As disillusionment rose to his throat, Fan Dragon Zhuge Xian heard a single voice transmission.

—“Don’t show it, foolish elder brother.”

The girl seated beside him cast her eyes downward impassively. Sweeping her black hair, tied with sky-blue silk, to the side of her neck, she avoided looking at the others in the room.

Tranquil Depth Gaze Zhuge Qing-ya. Zhuge Xian’s younger sister.

She had earned renown early as a prodigy of ocular techniques. Her beauty, rivaling her brother’s, was equally famed.

Hearing her transmission, Zhuge Xian adjusted his expression. He immediately fixed his gaze on their father.

Fortunately, the Zhuge Family Head was nodding slowly without glancing their way.

The father of the Zhuge siblings spoke gently.

“Our Sword Star seems thoroughly captivated by the qualities of Desolate Fortress’s young leader. Quite surprising, isn’t it? Many of Jeong Yeon-shin’s well-known feats were achieved not with swordsmanship but with palm techniques. He’s more a born fighter than a sword talent, yet the Sword Star’s eyes saw something else.”

“In truth, the Alliance Leader’s thoughts are none of our concern. We should focus on the uninvited guest. Quite a spectacle, isn’t it? His rampage has reached a point we can’t ignore.”

“Murong Family Head, please share your esteemed opinion.”

“I closely observed Jeong Yeon-shin. I confirmed a sword wound on his lower left abdomen. The scar exuded an extraordinary sharpness. It wasn’t an ordinary profound sword mark.”

The Zhuge Family Head laughed.

“I saw it too. Likely a strike from the Swimming Heaven Sword Ghost.”

“Since it’s not a wound that heals easily, arranging a way to stall for time gracefully might suffice. The more he fights without resting, the worse his internal injuries will grow. Perhaps our children under our wings could claim victory.”

A colorless gleam flickered in the Murong Family Head’s eyes as he concluded.

At that moment.

Lady Ye, seated at one end of the round table, slightly raised her head. Sunlight dappled her elegant jawline.

The Ye Clan Family Head beside her reacted immediately. A man dressed neatly in pure white martial robes, like a prestigious family’s steward.

He raised a hand to draw attention, then spoke slowly.

“To begin with, calling him an uninvited guest is inaccurate. Didn’t we invite him? We summoned the Desolate Fortress envoy to bolster our Alliance’s reputation, proclaiming to the world that we fear no imperial watchdogs.”

“Are you criticizing our hasty schedule adjustment?”

The Murong Family Head asked.

“I’m saying we need more substantial discussion. Stalling gracefully? No suitable method comes to mind… Instead, how about a ten-exchange victory rule?”

It was a statement that seized focus. The Ye Clan had risen alongside factions like the Blood Flame Sect and other notable families during the late Yuan era.

Their wealth, derived from a merchant group’s history, was immense.

They poured vast sums into founding the Martial Alliance Conference and still served as a primary financial pillar.

This meant their influence within the Alliance was significant.

The Zhuge Family Head showed interest.

“A ten-exchange victory. You mean to impose conditions on the Opening Tournament?”

“Isn’t the current priority to uphold the Alliance’s reputation? Struggling against a young prodigy, losing to him, or barely winning after mid-tier supreme masters exhaust him in a gauntlet—all are major losses. Limiting exchanges means it’s a contest but not fully so; whether they lose or win, both sides can save face. Let’s look at the bigger picture—not be shackled by an individual like the Radiant Demon Wing Leader.”

The Ye Family Head spoke. The Zhuge Family Head lightly stroked his smooth chin.

“Indeed, that could allow a lesser fighter to seize an advantage over a master… It’d be a battle with many variables. There’s merit to it.”

“We can attach various pretexts. In these chaotic times, preserving the strength of righteous martial heroes isn’t a bad rationale, is it?”

The discussion continued.

Zhuge Xian and Zhuge Qing-ya listened silently.

So did Yue Ye-lin, Gong Sun-min, and Murong Ming-jun. They weren’t in a position to voice opinions rashly.

The adults’ discourse, wielding influence over the martial world’s upper echelons, was grave. It remained so until the meeting’s end.

The Radiant Demon Wing Leader, whom Yue Ye-lin and Murong Ming-jun had once carelessly invited to a banquet, walked a realm starkly apart from these younger talents.

“You and Jeong Yeon-shin. I heard you bonded while heading to West Peak Road.”

The Zhuge Family Head said as he left the meeting hall, accompanied by two of his younger-generation children.

He spoke without looking at them, staring ahead. Zhuge Xian lowered his head slightly and responded.

“We only exchanged a few words.”

“How absurd. You didn’t even dare to deceive that child? Had it been your sister, she’d have uncovered even the name of a maid Jeong Yeon-shin fancied in his youth. Every piece of information about Desolate Fortress’s black rank should be treated as treasure.”

“…I apologize.”

“Enough.”

The Zhuge Family Head said indifferently.

“Qing-ya, listen.”

“Yes.”

Zhuge Qing-ya, walking a step behind, replied softly.

“The Azure Qilin’s body has been re-transported. We also secured a few corpses of the Heart Martial Alliance members defeated at West Peak Road.”

“…”

“Examine them. You’ve already discerned the diverse methods of Jeong Yeon-shin’s martial arts… but a ten-exchange victory rule introduces great uncertainty. From a fresh perspective, miss no subtle clue and report back. The Radiant Demon Wing Leader is exceedingly strong.”

“Understood.”

The girl replied expressionlessly.

For a moment, Zhuge Xian’s face contorted. Nothing sat right with him.

Not the siblings submitting to their authoritarian father’s oppression, nor their father scheming under the guise of righteousness.

He’d shared such sentiments with his friend, Namgung Se-jin.

As young family heirs, they were strong; as righteous martial artists, they were weak. Even after twenty-eight years of life.

Zhuge Xian watched his sister walk away with monotonous steps.

He thought absently. He envied Namgung Se-jin, who’d met his end on his own terms.

The transparent sunlight tilted. An autumn breeze stole time as it passed.

Zhuge Qing-ya had to examine the bodies felled by the Radiant Demon Wing Leader. Wounds from martial arts revealed much.

The texture of shattered meridians could indicate force patterns; sword scars could trace blade paths.

For her, it was especially easier with the wounds of the living.

She had mastered the Zhuge Family’s secret ocular technique early on. Born marked as the family’s eyes, she’d been forced to perfect only that skill.

Her exceptional talent among the family’s younger generation played a role too.

Yet analyzing martial arts through corpses was a first. Her father often pushed her and her brother’s limits this way.

He taught them to wear a mask of chivalry while pursuing family gain.

“Miss, why are you in a place like this…?”

“I was ordered.”

She replied in an emotionless tone.

Passing startled subordinates, she crossed the threshold of a secretive pavilion. A guide immediately joined her.

An expressionless man led the girl deep inside.

The sights brushing her vision were familiar yet strange. Faint sunlight, dark flooring, a cold texture against her feet.

Upon entering a room at the corridor’s end, an old family retainer stood guard outside.

Zhuge Qing-ya faced five bodies lying with closed eyes. Her gaze wavered slightly.

Rustle.

The girl bowed twice toward them. Her tied black hair flowed down darkly, and her sky-blue robe swept the floor twice.

Rising, Zhuge Qing-ya looked down at Namgung Se-jin’s corpse.

His closed eyes rested gently. His pallid complexion stood out.

Even preserved by Mosan Faction sorcery, a corpse was a corpse. No peace in death. The price of being born into a powerful martial family.

Their fates were tragic. The Azure Qilin’s life, and Zhuge Qing-ya’s own existence.

“Setting aside its power…”

The girl muttered deliberately, tracing the sword marks on Namgung Se-jin’s body.

She wanted to escape this place quickly. She examined the scars reaching his ribs and confirmed the collapsed side from palm techniques.

She fully etched the martial arts of Jeong Yeon-shin, the Radiant Demon Wing Leader, into her eyes.

A gleam of forceful energy flickered in Zhuge Qing-ya’s pupils. A leaf-green hue passed through her jet-black irises.

‘There’s an intent threading through all his techniques.’

Her eyes widened. Something approached the realm of intuition.

The inspiration that flashes in the minds of geniuses reacted to Jeong Yeon-shin’s traces. It raced with a prodigy’s sensitivity.

Blue flames sparked in her eyes. A gaze brimming with intellect.

She thought.

‘Intuitive, desperate, fast.’

A strange emotion surfaced on the girl’s face.

What could a boy deemed the greatest of his generation lack? She’d once thought it irrational for such talent to exist.

Though Hwangbo Faction’s Lazy Flame Dragon was said to have the family’s finest potential, the Scorching Divine Meridian came with a cost.

Why had the Radiant Demon Wing Leader infused such intent into his innate martial arts? As Desolate Fortress’s youngest black rank, he should possess everything.

‘The wounds deepened progressively. That means the sword energy was fully applied. The increase in effective meridian strikes shows his martial prowess rose steadily during a life-or-death bout… There’s no other monster like this under heaven.’

For the first time.

Interest flickered across the girl’s face.

She deliberately nurtured the small emotion. To endure the guilt of examining corpses.

Zhuge Qing-ya pondered. What flaw did the martial world’s most perfect boy harbor?

Just as her brother Zhuge Xian bonded with the Azure Qilin and then Jeong Yeon-shin, could she and Desolate Fortress’s young leader find mutual empathy in their sorrows?

 ***

Read only at nineheavens.org

Translated by Nine Heavens!

***

Radiant Demon Wing Leader.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s streak of victories continued unabated. Even after accepting the ten-exchange victory rule.

The boy was somewhat perplexed. It was a format highly advantageous to him.

Physically, and in facing Mount Hua’s Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint was the Opening Tournament’s mightiest master.

Said to rival Ma Jin in his prime. A realm where the sword blooms flowers.

His experience with the blade would differ vastly from that of Desolate Fortress’s new leader. The longer the exchanges, the darker the odds of defeat.

‘So I aimed to end it quickly, and they set it as a rule.’

The boy thought, facing the leader of the Murong Family’s Heaven-Treading Sword Squad.

“I heard rumors you’re a grandmaster. That all supreme techniques were tailored to your body from birth, so it’s no wonder you’ve flaunted such prowess since youth. Is it true? I can’t quite believe it.”

A middle-aged swordsman in red robes asked.

Beneath a broad forehead, his narrow eyes gleamed with sharp scrutiny.

The Martial Alliance’s upper echelon had fully analyzed Jeong Yeon-shin’s demonstrated martial arts.

The Radiant Demon Wing Leader’s skills favored single-strike forms.

A force influenced by orthodox sects, paired with explosive, single-blow techniques. It would excel in survival-driven realms.

‘The world of true masters is different.’

The Heaven-Treading Sword Leader scanned the boy’s frame.

In battles between supreme masters, flow was contested. Connecting moves to form systems of fist or sword techniques was key.

That’s why a wanderer couldn’t defeat a master honed in orthodox martial learning.

If an opponent could withstand a single strike and seize the advantage with systematic swordsmanship, defeat was inevitable.

The ten-exchange rule was unnecessary. The leadership had erred, preemptively fearing a grueling defeat.

They’d rushed to craft a format where even a losing Alliance warrior could save face. Their stance differed from the young Radiant Demon Wing Leader’s.

The Heaven-Treading Sword Leader continued, addressing the silent boy.

“Your existence is so monstrous it spawns all sorts of rumors. Most are likely nonsense. The ten-exchange rule is a pity. Swordsmen share their spirit through the vibration of their blades, but it won’t even reach my grip.”

“Is discourse long? Has the duel begun?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked.

A long smile curved the Heaven-Treading Sword Leader’s lips. With leisurely poise, he tapped his still-sheathed sword.

He intended to turn the ten-exchange rule against him. He held a personal grudge against Desolate Fortress.

“Am I not yielding distance even now? Come at me anytime. I’ve already crossed swords with the Spirit Lord of the World Tree among your black ranks…”

At that moment.

A gust of wind blew in.

Suddenly, a blade flashed in the Heaven-Treading Sword Leader’s vision.

‘What…!’

A sword imbued with staggering force cleaved toward his brow. The air’s edge seemed to transform into a blade in an instant.

He couldn’t tell when it was drawn. A storm erupted from the blade tip rushing in a fleeting moment.

A chillingly eerie force wave. The surroundings blurred. His vision filled with a single point.

The Murong Family swordsman drew his blade like lightning. No time to stamp a stance. He struck upward.

Swish!

The air warped translucently along the blade. No impact reached his grip. It was a feint piercing the blind spot of psychological warfare.

Only the cold sensation slicing straight along his nape stood vivid.

The boy, pressing his sword from the side, appeared belatedly, his black robes fluttering.

The white gleam spreading from the blade settled in the Radiant Demon Wing Leader’s gaze.

A strange transcendence emanated from the boy’s frame. An uncanny presence.

Would Bodhidharma have been like this if he lived as a mortal? Perhaps the situation made it feel so.

“You truly didn’t feel it! What remarkable insight!”

From the spectator stands. A ruffian with a sky-blue hero’s bandana on his forehead shouted.