Chapter 191 : Xinjiang
Xinjiang
While the Black Sword was being repaired, Jeong-un spent his days sitting cross-legged in his sleeping quarters.
From the very first time he picked up a sword and recklessly repeated the Three Talent Sword Technique, he didn't have any clear goal aside from simply wanting to reach the end of martial arts.
All he had done was delight in witnessing his own body develop day by day.
Now, things were different.
It was cultivation of mind and body with a purpose.
The Demonic Cult Leader was someone who not only wielded masterful fist-and-palm arts but also set up formations inside and out of his body, wielding arts almost like magic.
This time, it was difficult even to predict what kind of formation he might set up and wait with.
Surely, he would enact some mysterious and unexpected scheme.
'Whatever it is.'
For Jeong-un, the best he could do was to maximize the efficacy of his true ki.
The efficacy that comes from internal energy was almost miraculous.
It wasn't just that his body movements had reached superhuman levels.
He could extend his senses to detect even the slightest presence in the area or catch minuscule whispers, and at times, he could even pierce through lies in a person's words with his inner eye.
He had even learned to pick up on certain discordances in the environment.
It was through this same sense that Jeong-un had pinpointed the core of his foe's formation in the last encounter.
It was the reason why, in the short time remaining, he had no choice but to devote himself to cultivation of sensitivity.
Whoosh.
Jeong-un, sitting in silence, softly swept one arm through the air.
It was a movement with no clear intention, like a casual thrust during a duel.
But Jeong-un was recalling the moment when he had severed the flow atop the core of the enemy's formation.
He went over it again and again, striving to revive that sensation. This was the objective of his current training.
Previously, he had used Powerless Steps to discern the core of the formation and act.
When the enemy let down his guard, Jeong-un cut off the stream of energy at its core.
It was a stroke of luck not likely to be repeated. Once, it had worked, but twice would be much more difficult.
Causing successive waves of true ki to cut off the current had only been possible because Jeong-un was standing right on the core of the formation at the time.
Naturally, his foe would have taken precautions this time.
So he had to prepare something beyond that. He had to weave together a miracle unique to the efficacy of his own internal energy.
'It's not enough to just extend my sensitivity. I need to be able to unfold my own domain.'
Hoo-wook—
Once more, Jeong-un's hand moved through the air.
This time, unlike before where he seemed to be severing something, his finger-tips moved lightly, as if caressing an unseen surface.
At last, he unleashed his vast reservoir of internal energy. The bedding on which he sat cross-legged began to vibrate in a mysterious way.
It was due to the undulating ki wave that seemed to flare up like fire from his body.
Then, with a sudden gust of wind, his energy spread throughout the entire room.
Saaa—
The transparent air faintly tinged, as if it had been dyed with golden pigments.
It would have been an astonishing scene to witness. Jeong-un was now releasing his true ki outward, constructing his own domain.
No one could have imagined such a feat. Even ingesting a supreme elixir would make no difference.
No matter how vast one's internal energy, replacing the ambient natural energy within a certain spatial area with one's own was an entirely different matter.
But Jeong-un was different. Even just by rough calculation, that was clear.
He had ingested two supreme elixirs, no less.
Fwaaa!
Then, as if a whirlpool had formed, the energy began to rotate around Jeong-un.
It was a wondrous scene, like a golden vortex. Yet it did not disturb the furniture nearby.
It swept around gently, as though respecting the temperament of its master.
Jeong-un clenched his outstretched hand into a fist.
Whoosh.
With that, the swirling energy vanished in an instant.
The ki, rotating in a perfect balance, disappeared into the air the moment he withdrew his power.
The golden haze that had hovered like mist also faded away.
Jeong-un slowly opened his eyes.
"......"
His clear gaze seemed directed toward something beyond mere sight.
For a brief moment, a flash of yellow light flickered across his eyes like sparks bursting forth.
He pursed his lips, murmuring softly to himself.
Only now, he thought, had he begun to get a feel for it.
* * *
Jeong-un woke early in the morning and prepared to leave.
Technically, Heavenly Martial Hall's official departure was scheduled for the next day, but he planned to set off one day earlier.
He informed the General Affairs Department via a servant. In truth, not having to report personally to Yeom Baek anymore felt a bit awkward.
Tak.
He picked up the sword resting on the small table next to the bedding.
It had been brought to him with hot water by a servant once he woke.
Jo Yoo-hyeon from the General Affairs Department had delivered the sword at dawn, before sunrise.
Having heard Jeong-un would be leaving a day early, he had rushed it over.
It was easy to imagine him waiting at the smithy until the repair was done, even through the night.
Worried that Jeong-un—whose senses were sharp—might wake if he came too close, he apparently gave the sword to the servant to bring from a distance.
It was an exceedingly considerate gesture.
Yet, Jeong-un had no intention of seeking him out before leaving to express thanks.
The General Affairs Department would be extremely busy with preparations at this time.
Besides, the early-morning delivery was meant as a message not to bother about such formalities.
'There are other ways to repay him.'
Cutting down his foe with this sword—that would be repayment enough. Jeong-un was a warrior. All he had to do was the thing he did best.
With that, he accepted the servant's send-off and headed out through the main gate.
"......"
There, he found his comrades waiting for him.
"Surely, you weren't planning to leave without saying goodbye?"
"Would the Young Hero Yu really be so cold-hearted?"
"You must have sensed us standing here anyway."
Each of them made a light comment. Even with the great task ahead, their faces were free of gloom—as if only a short farewell lay between them.
After returning from their previous mission, they had already shared a round of reunion.
But with such a major battle looming, they'd all been busy with their respective preparations.
They already knew he would depart ahead of the main squad of the Heavenly Martial Hall.
He had even told them about leaving a day earlier, and they'd remembered, coming to see him off.
"Wait, what are you wearing?"
At that, Jo Gwang cried out, as if having discovered a serious flaw.
"Why are you in such plain clothes? Where's your dignified four-stripes martial garb?"
"I figured it'd be inconvenient to move alone in troubled times."
When Jeong-un replied, Jo Gwang's eyes grew round.
"What are you talking about? Inconvenient? It'd be the opposite! You'd be hailed as a hero wherever you go...!"
"How about you stop wearing the Heavenly Martial Hall's formal attire for once? Sometimes I feel a little awkward when we're both in full garb."
"Watch your tongue!"
Jeong-un laughed quietly as he listened to his comrades' playful banter.
Then, he met Tang Yerin's gaze. She simply smiled at him without a word, and he nodded back with a gentle smile.
They exchanged a few more words.
At last, Baek Il-gang quietly spoke.
"See you in Xinjiang."
"Yes."
Jeong-un gave a nod and turned away. He could feel his comrades' gazes from behind. No need for regrets.
As Baek Il-gang said, they would soon meet again—their destinations might slightly differ, but their goal was the same.
'The faster I cut him down, the less harm will be done.'
The Heavenly Martial Hall warriors would depart for Xinjiang with the Murim Alliance the next day.
Each orthodox sect was to gather by the appointed day in the vicinity.
Though he wasn't sure of the numbers, they would surely be immense.
Even so, this war could not be allowed to drag on. The various orthodox sects had to defend their own regions from unorthodox villains, as well.
If a sect's main forces left their region, it would naturally create favorable conditions for the unorthodox faction to run rampant.
To guard against this, at least a minimum force would be left behind, but drawing out the conflict would benefit no one.
'I must do my part well.'
As he walked the road from Heavenly Martial Hall, Jeong-un quietly muttered to himself.
The true strength of the Demonic Cultists was still a mystery.
But judging by those deployed to catch his attention during the Blood Cult's eradication, their level was formidable.
Moreover, as befitting a chilling cult, they likely had several high priests.
And above all, this was their very stronghold. Surely, they would be waiting, surrounded with strange formations.
It was inevitable there would be severe casualties.
'The Zhuge Clan will have their own preparations, but...'
Jeong-un couldn't name any particular expert who came to mind when thinking of the Zhuge Clan.
Though some had reached a substantial level, fundamentally, they were not a clan focused on martial training.
Still, they were powerful enough to be counted among the five great families of the land.
It was said their bloodline was extremely gifted with intelligence, and they delved deeply into formations and mechanical trap formations.
The third trial of Heavenly Martial Hall, after all, was a formation that created illusions.
Now that he thought about it, that formation itself was an astonishing art.
Heavenly Martial Hall, too, was undoubtedly making thorough preparations for the departure to Xinjiang.
Step, step.
As Jeong-un walked the main road of Heavenly Martial Hall, he reflected. Still, his own role was most vital.
In the end, the amount of harm the orthodox sects would suffer depended on how quickly he could eliminate his foe.
He felt a certain pressure from the responsibility.
Yet, he did not try to dismiss it with other excuses. Instead, he chose to face it head-on.
Before being the enemy of the martial world, his foe was his own nemesis—a matter of life and death.
The sense of pressure weighing on his heart was almost welcome. He hoped it would drive him to stay diligent until this was all over.
Soon, he arrived at the warriors' designated entrance.
Unlike its usual bustling state, it was quiet now. With a great war looming, no minor tasks were being given to the warriors.
Step.
The gatekeepers silently stepped aside when they saw Jeong-un. He nodded slightly and passed through. This time, he hadn't arranged for a horse.
Just as Baek Il-gang once said, he no longer even needed to ride to travel such distances.
Though Xinjiang was far, with the lightness skill of Moonlight Swift Steps, he'd arrive in no time.
The market streets of Hanyang Prefecture were crowded with merchants preparing to open for business.
Soon, the streets would be filled with people pursuing all manner of purposes.
"......"
Several merchants stole glances at Jeong-un as he quietly walked the main road.
The rumor of an impending Great War between orthodoxy and demonic factions had long since spread far and wide.
A young martial artist with a sword at his side walking alone was bound to draw attention.
Secretly, he was glad not to be wearing the Heavenly Martial Hall's attire; it would only have made people needlessly tense.
Jeong-un calmly ignored their stares and passed through the main gate of the city center.
Once he had crossed the long avenue and passed over a low hill, a cool breeze brushed his face.
As he prepared to move on—
"......"
He sensed familiar presences ahead. Were they waiting to ambush an unsuspecting traveler?
He could sense their numbers one by one with his acute ki sensitivity.
Tak.
He stopped and spoke.
"Come out."
At his words, several figures sheepishly emerged from the bushes, looking embarrassed.
There were six in all.
It was a band of thieves, of the kind commonly encountered crisscrossing the Central Plains.
The only surprising thing was their camp's proximity to Hanyang Prefecture, halfway up the mountain.
Perhaps they were trying to take advantage of the chaos recently sown across the Central Plains, or perhaps they were simply too clueless to realize the risks.
"......"
He swept his gaze over them, and recalled the first time he had left through the main gate with a sword at his side.
Back then, too, he'd been blocked by such ruffians. It had been the first time Jeong-un wielded his sword against another person.
"Well, seems you've got sharp senses. If you want to live, first get down on your knees—"
Jeong-un didn't wait for the man to finish. In a flash, his right hand gripped the sword handle and drew the blade.
At the same instant, golden light flashed.
Chakakakang–!
The weapons the bandits were holding were all cut in half and dropped to the ground.
Jeong-un spoke as they gaped in shock.
"Go to some quiet countryside and take up farming. I'm giving you a chance—there won't be a second."
"A-Aaagh!"
Clang!
Once they understood the situation, the men dropped their empty sacks and scrambled away.
Jeong-un watched them steadily as they fled. Maybe they really would go become farmers.
No way to know.
But they surely wouldn't resort to robbing again anytime soon.
Tak.
He took another step forward. This time, his steps carried the lightness of Moonlight Swift Steps.
Unconsciously, he muttered to himself, without any particular reason.
It was, indeed, a refreshing departure.