Chapter 231 – Treasured Sword (4)

“Heart Martial Alliance, Baek Seo-goon.”

A woman with ash-gray hair cascading down to her nape like a lion’s mane spoke. An unparalleled luster flowed from her orange silk robe.

She carried a single sword and a flamboyant orchid-patterned satchel, which stood out. Her attire was as succinct as her self-introduction.

It had been since Swimming Heaven Sword Ghost defeated the Brilliant Sound Twin Demons and encountered Wei Zhi Myo-hwa.

The time was not short. Several days had passed.

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa had seized the moment when the evil faction’s giants clashed, not missing the opportunity. The saying “the enemy of my enemy is my ally” was a luxury. The situation dictated otherwise.

It was not just her own life at stake but also that of young Jeong Hye. She could not readily seek aid from the second-in-command of a major evil faction.

Thus, seven days and nights had elapsed.

Besides the Brilliant Sound Twin Demons, there were many pursuers. Yu Ling and Tyrant Sword Sect had allied. They lacked no manpower. It was a heavenly net.

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa hid Jeong Hye in a mountain cave and lured the enemies away. She unleashed loud energy waves to draw attention. It was her best effort.

She was utterly cornered. Even until Baek Seo-goon suddenly appeared and slew twenty-two foes with a single stroke of sword-control technique, it had been so.

“You evaded well. Even this seat struggled to catch your presence.”

Mist shrouded the Qinling Mountains, unfurling like an ink painting.

The Heart Martial Alliance and Mount Zhongnan Sect were not far apart. Baek Seo-goon recognized Wei Zhi Myo-hwa’s identity at once.

She recalled the appearance of Mount Zhongnan’s chief disciple, a five-star talent who had mastered noble clan divine arts.

Mount Zhongnan’s Cloud Dragon Sword, Wei Zhi Myo-hwa, was a well-known rising star. Her martial arts, appearance, and status were all exceptional.

From the Sword Dragon’s perspective, Baek Seo-goon was such a figure.

“…Swimming Heaven Sword Ghost.”

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa murmured.

Even as she questioned, she kept her hand on her sword hilt. She was the heir of a prestigious sect that had suffered the calamity of annihilation.

Her wariness was at its peak. Her usually straight gaze now arched slightly.

She was alone, and her condition was poor. Her once-pristine robes were stained with dirt and blood.

Due to internal injuries, blood marked her lips. The noble aura of a Mount Zhongnan swordmaster had shifted toward the rugged spirit of a fighter.

A glint flashed in Baek Seo-goon’s eyes.

‘She was connected to Lightning Genius, wasn’t she?’

She thought as she observed Wei Zhi Myo-hwa. Her striking features and clear eyes left an impression.

More striking was the energy wave enveloping her body. It was sharp, as if she wore a cutting wind.

‘She maintains a state of sword-spirit unity constantly… A finely honed blade.’

Cloud Dragon Sword Wei Zhi Myo-hwa.

Even the odd feather ornament tying her jet-black hair stood out. So did her waist.

A white sword hung from a jade-adorned belt, which, though uncharacteristic of a Taoist disciple, suited her oddly well.

“Didn’t you take Jeong Family’s kin with you?”

Baek Seo-goon asked bluntly. She was not one to mince words.

Her reaction was swift.

A surge erupted.

An intangible energy wave bristled from Wei Zhi Myo-hwa’s body. It was a colorless surge of power.

It spread with a fiercely sharp edge. Her dirt-faded blue robes tightened, infused with energy.

“For what reason does a senior of the Heart Martial Alliance…”

She spoke, rousing internal energy befitting her title, poised to strike if needed. The black-and-white of her eyes stood out vividly.

It was less recklessness and more resolve. Even if driven to death, she would not reveal Jeong Hye’s whereabouts.

The corner of Baek Seo-goon’s mouth lifted.

“Your spirit is impressive. But you lack the right to hear this seat’s story. It’s enough for you to recognize my aid.

Haven’t I personally removed the leeches trailing you? Tyrant Sword Sect or Yu Ling, it wasn’t easy for me either.”

The ties of the Thirteen Evil Sects were a tangled mess.

As major evil factions of the martial world, their actions lacked order.

They might unite to strike the orthodox factions or wage war among themselves. Unlike the righteous martial world, they were not amicable with each other.

Yet the balance between good and evil persisted, so it was often said that if the Thirteen Evil Sects formed an alliance, the martial world’s landscape would shift. That was the consensus among martial enthusiasts.

“…Even so, I cannot trust a warrior of the Heart Martial Alliance.”

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa’s gaze was steadfast.

She would protect Jeong Hye. She weighed every possibility as if crossing a stone bridge. If she died, so be it…

Her resolve was beautiful. It was the face Lightning Genius had once called heroic.

Baek Seo-goon’s smile deepened as she gazed at her.

“You’re a child of integrity. With spirit alone, you could debate the martial world. Worthy of Lightning Genius’s camaraderie.”

“Lightning Genius…?”

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa’s eyes widened slightly. Baek Seo-goon continued calmly.

“I’ve heard the rumors. You’re tied to Radiant Demon Wing Leader, I understand. So am I. A bond no less deep than yours. It spans generations and was forged through the sword.”

“What?”

“Have you shared a drink with him? With your five-star talent, worthy of being called Shaanxi’s top rising star, memories from years ago should be as vivid as today.”

Baek Seo-goon asked abruptly. Wei Zhi Myo-hwa couldn’t respond immediately. Yet the gray-haired Sword Venerable pressed on, undeterred.

“Be it wine or tea, it doesn’t matter. If you’ve mastered orthodox observation techniques, you’d have noticed Lightning Genius’s habits. Each time he grips a cup, he observes his companion. He doesn’t grasp it hastily but brushes it with his fingertips, lifting it only when the other does. Every single time. Like second nature, ingrained caution. Born to a prominent family, he must have learned tea etiquette early.”

“…!”

“I was curious. Was it wariness of me, or a habit from his upbringing? If it were just me, it’d be the former. But seeing your face… it’s not that.”

A heavy breath laced Baek Seo-goon’s voice. Bitterness tinged it.

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa’s eyebrows rose. Surprise and doubt mingled in her expression.

“So it was true.”

Baek Seo-goon muttered, her long lashes now lowered.

“Jeong Pan Yue keeps shaming me. Endlessly. That madman must have raised his child that way. Had I been there, it might’ve been different…”

The emotion in her soliloquy was deep and natural. Shame and anger seeped through. It felt unforced.

Her slightly twisted lips matched it. It was an expression Wei Zhi Myo-hwa never imagined seeing on Henan’s Sword Venerable.

Shaanxi and Henan bordered each other. Wei Zhi Myo-hwa had long heard of Swimming Heaven Sword Ghost’s renown.

Sword Venerable Baek Seo-goon. An absolute figure with no need to feign emotion. Her claim of sharing a drink with Jeong Yeon-shin was no lie.

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa had often enjoyed tea with Lightning Genius during his stays at Mount Zhongnan. She even recalled the subtle habits Swimming Heaven Sword Ghost hadn’t mentioned.

‘He’s the younger half-brother of my junior brother Jeong.’

Was he uneasy in his family? Despite seeming every bit the noble scion.

“…I will draw my sword. Please grant this junior a hair’s breadth distance.”

She said. It meant she’d guide Baek Seo-goon with her blade at close range. In dire need of aid, she accepted the Sword Venerable’s goodwill.

The condition—that she’d thrust her sword if needed—was bold.

‘Her protective aura must be solid. A scratch might be the limit.’

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa thought.

Her reaction speed would far outstrip her own. Still, there was no choice. She’d left Jeong Hye alone for nearly three days, and the Thirteen Evil Sects’ heavenly net kept tightening.

Just now, a sharp whistling arrow echoed faintly in the distance. Wei Zhi Myo-hwa had little room to choose otherwise.

Baek Seo-goon, looking up, showed no particular anger. She merely nodded slowly.

“Make haste.”

They spoke no more after that.

The two moved like the wind. With refined lightness skills, they descended to an unnamed gorge in the Qinling Mountains.

They dropped without hesitation. The cave nestled between vast cliffs loomed swiftly.

The Sword Venerable and Sword Dragon landed and stepped inside.

A chilling wind, like a ghostly wail, seeped through.

A hollow breeze brushed their collars, then the faintly shadowed stone walls fell silent in an instant.

“Ah…”

Wei Zhi Myo-hwa let out a groan.

The cave they reached was empty.

Dim sunlight filtered through a cracked ceiling. The flattened grass where a child had crouched basked silently in the light.

Shattered sword fragments lay scattered around.

***

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Translated by Nine Heavens!

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***

Xi’an, Shaanxi.

A land sprawling endlessly with quarters encircling Mount Zhongnan. Its scale dwarfed other Shaanxi regions. It teemed with people.

Merchants chattered as they folded their stalls, inn boys hung lanterns above entrances at midnight, wanderers sought alleys to rest…

It was vast.

Even in famine, immense goods flowed through caravans and armed escorts.

A thriving metropolis since before the dynasty’s founding, it housed bustling crowds of all classes. Even after sunset, it pulsed with varied vigor.

So did the strike of Xi’an Chivalry Sword Ge Du-jin.

A loud crash resounded!

He seized a man’s nape and slammed it onto the table. The energy wave’s aftermath flared like a gust.

Cracks spiderwebbed from the man’s forehead, and soon the wooden table splintered and collapsed. The man sprawled alongside it.

“Nothing in his pockets. Clear him out.”

Ge Du-jin, clad in lavish brocade, growled with a stern gaze.

An inn lit by rows of orange lanterns hung from the ceiling.

It lay under the control of Reverend Remaining Earth Sect, a sect submissive to the Thirteen Evil Sects’ Yu Ling.

Ge Du-jin, Reverend Remaining Earth Sect’s First Protector, bore the moniker “Chivalrous Sword,” a self-aggrandizing title used among evil faction peers.

Guests silenced their voices, quietly working their chopsticks. Amid recurring famines and the loss of Great Mount Zhongnan’s protection, this was routine.

In such times, those dining at inns were hardly ordinary. They’d grown numb to common brawls.

A burly subordinate obeyed.

The unconscious man was dragged away.

A boy beside Ge Du-jin snickered. With striking black-and-white eyes beneath a vivid blue hero’s band, he was a promising evil faction talent who suited his look well.

He was also Ge Du-jin’s sworn younger brother.

The boy spoke.

“Freeloaders haven’t dwindled, have they?”

“Speak right. It’s the rice-leeches that’ve multiplied. Shamelessly.”

Ge Du-jin replied with an impassive face.

The boy, Xi’an Little Gallant So Yu-rang, laughed.

“Why spare him? A guy bold enough to taste delicacies at Xi’an’s top inn without a coin. Should’ve smashed his limbs… Want me to handle it? Can I kill him? Might hone my sword path too.”

“I said kill him outside. So our esteemed guests don’t lose their appetite.”

“Really…?”

“Didn’t plenty piss themselves from pain? Cleaning costs money. Time is cash.”

“Oh, right. My thinking was short. Been caught up in Mount Zhongnan martial arts lately.”

“Focus harder on training. The sect leader’s cutting you slack.”

“My ears’ll callus.”

“You lunatic. The Nine Yang Single Form you were granted is the signature art of Mount Zhongnan’s Sword Dragon. Without this mess, even glimpsing it would’ve been a pipe dream. Quit your damned gambling and focus on mastery, got it?”

“Don’t use bookish words. Who’d think you’re not some rustic scholar?”

“You brat?”

Evil faction warriors spoke of a sword legacy restored by Desolate Fortress’s Lightning Genius and Mount Zhongnan’s Sword Immortal.

Despite Mount Zhongnan’s secular factions dotting Shaanxi, none objected.

Since Mount Zhongnan’s fall, Xi’an’s ecosystem had shifted drastically.

Tyrant Sword Sect and Yu Ling’s lackeys swept in. They seized control of caravans, escorts, shops along highways—every profit.

Even officials like subprefects and magistrates were swayed by wealth. In famine, all goods were precious. Even upright officials succumbed.

Xi’an’s order solidified anew. It happened in a flash.

The silent diners now proved it. Warriors mingled sparsely with merchants and commoners, none lifting their heads.

It persisted until a winter breeze slipped through the inn’s reopened door.

A faint whistle sounded.

A figure stepped in, cloaked in clear air. Perhaps heavier than his frame suggested, his footsteps were oddly loud.

A steady tread followed.

He was a boy of decent height.

Long lashes cast shadows. His sharp features and eerily calm demeanor stood out.

Then, with a creak, the door shut. His black fur-lined cloak fluttered long behind him.

Beneath his collar, a plain white sleeve peeked out briefly before vanishing.

“Welcome!”

A boy in brown hemp, despite winter, stepped forward. He’d been casually watching Ge Du-jin and So Yu-rang’s banter.

“No companions? Rough world to roam alone.”

The inn boy grinned slyly, asking in a subtle tone.

It sounded odd. The inn’s mood was subdued. Everything in Xi’an had become a familiar scene.

It verged on a lawless zone where Ming Dynasty law held no sway.

“Three more should come. They said you can’t sleep here, so I was told to find lodging.”

The stranger answered readily.

The inn boy nodded with a broad smile.

“Reverend Remaining Earth Sect’s great heroes are staying here. Thanks to them, our inn still boasts the world’s finest flavors.”

“Any seats?”

So Yu-rang’s eyebrow twitched from afar. Reverend Remaining Earth Sect was known locally as Yu Ling’s proxy among the Thirteen Evil Sects.

Their prestige was immense. It wasn’t a status a random wanderer could slight.

“Fresh off the martial path.”

So Yu-rang clenched and unclenched his fist once.

Ge Du-jin, sensing his sworn brother’s faint ire, said nothing.

Having mastered the Sword Dragon’s Nine Yang Single Form, So Yu-rang could vie for Shaanxi’s strongest among peers. He merely observed the fur-clad wanderer silently.

‘He’s fairly neat. Good complexion, no gauntness. Well-fed, then.’

Ge Du-jin thought. A rare look.

A noble scion from a decent sect, hiding his identity.

The reason was unclear. A trivial one might mean weak martial skills; a grave one, he’d conceal his prowess as well as his status.

Disciples on covert missions from major factions excelled at masking their abilities.

A steady tread sounded.

By then, So Yu-rang was striding toward the guest.

An evil faction warrior with his own turf was more beast than man. He adhered strictly to survival of the fittest.

Valuing the sword in hand over Ming law made him an outsider; using strikes as emotional release made him a demon.

To someone steeped in the Four Books and Three Classics, he didn’t seem human.

So Yu-rang’s nature was the same. Utterly bizarre.

He approached the fur-clad boy drinking water from the inn boy’s pour without hesitation. He grinned brightly at the stranger who ignored him.

In Xi’an’s evil faction, one who disregarded their honor wasn’t a guest but an intruder. Raising a corner of his mouth, So Yu-rang mimicked his sworn brother Ge Du-jin’s demeanor.

“Your speech and bearing defy Xi’an’s code. The moment you finish that water, you’ll need my lesson. How about I smash that throat first…”

Then.

It began from the intruder’s lips as he raised the cup.

A soft hiss spread.

The wooden cup started crumbling to dust. Fine particles caught the orange lantern light, scattering like an illusion. It broke apart finely up to the fingertips holding it.

His smooth, calloused fingers seemed to draw in the sunset. It was so natural it felt uncanny.

So Yu-rang’s steps halted.

“What.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had shattered the cup, spoke curtly.