Chapter 636: Kunlun Sect vs Blood Thunder Sound Temple (12)

Qing worried juuust a little.

What if he even tried to teach me the Sovereign Sword Form—what do I do then, fake being clumsy?

Of course, she knew that was never going to happen.

Still—what if.

But “teach something before you ask” didn’t mean “hand over your secret transmission,” like a highway robber’s demand.

“Now, a little more. First you have to feel the inner grain, right? Hey, hey, you’re letting Mind-and-Sword as One slip. Hm. Unexpectedly, you’re a bit dense in this area. I thought if I showed it a few times you’d pick it up.”

It was, truly, “miscellaneous craft”—the shavings that fall as a Translucent Realm expert explores the Way.

Qing’s hands—and the iron club in them—shook.

It had the shape of an iron sword, but not only did it lack an edge, even the form itself was only roughly roughed-in, a half-made skewer; “iron club” was the truer name.

Sweat poured; her hands just trembled.

“This is... not easy.”

“Would it be easy? But once it’s in your hands, there’s no lifesaving desperate trick like it.”

“Mm.”

Qing had been eating martial arts raw; even so, getting the knack of a “miscellaneous craft” wasn’t easy.

Because the “miscellaneous craft” a Translucent Realm expert used carried a very steep climb from Qing’s standpoint.

Hold Mind-and-Sword as One while shoving Steel Qi into the blade like a brute, continually compressing it and packing it inward.

Put that way it sounds simple?

But the amount of qi you must pour into the blade without breaking it is massive.

In the hometown joke: you’re putting an elephant in the fridge.

“Mm. Why can’t you do it? Just hold the sword well, keep Mind-and-Sword as One and ‘hold’ the structure, and with the sense of spreading the qi along the blade’s interior—don’t ‘insert,’ manifest.”

Namgung Daero’s explanations were easy—but only if your level matched.

One: open the door.

Two: put the elephant in.

Three: close the door.

That tier of “how-to.”

Oh, come on. Is that supposed to be an explanation?

A flicker of irritation crept up.

“Oh—that feeling just now was good! Yes, that feeling. If you remember it and spread it a little at a time—hm—you really can manage it?”

What feeling?

Does it work better when I’m annoyed?

Qing clenched on the grip hard enough to crumple it, putting stupid strength into it, even focusing her eyes.

It felt like something was working?

But what does irritation have to do with compression?

But if it works, do it.

You don’t need to know the principle to do something.

Speaking of irritation—think of that bad woman with the pretty, brazen face—Onyeonyeong—and it sours your mood a degree more.

In truth, it wasn’t irritation; it was the ability of Light-Roaring Murderous Steel Qi reacting to killing intent. But Qing didn’t know, and neither did the Sword King.

Namgung Daero wore an ambiguous look.

He’d thought she’d half-ass imitate; instead, she was methodically stepping through stages.

Disappointing for the Heavenly Flower Sword; for early Flower Realm, astonishing achievement.

The technique was called the Endless Sky Sword.

Endless sky—just hearing the name you’d say “so very Namgung,” and what can you do, it really was made by the Namgung House Head.

Not enough to call it a formal stance—just a single move.

But the power the Sword King had shown wasn’t “just a single move,” so Qing had rushed in saying she liked it and wanted to learn.

“Mm. At this point you can practice alone. Looks like we’ll set out soon—thought I’d go look over Kunlun’s sword formation. All right with you?”

“Of course. I’m grateful for what you’ve already taught me.”

Namgung Daero smiled, pleased.

If only that son of his would, somehow, do well...

No matter how he thought about it, the brat wouldn’t—still, you never know how things turn out between a man and a woman.

To tell the truth, even if it wasn’t the Heavenly Flower Sword, the Sword King wished the boy would bring home any woman at all, already.

So the three Translucent Realm figures turned to making ready to march.

Time was drawing near to set out against the Blood Thunder Sound Temple.

Meanwhile, Qing gripped her sword and trembled.

It felt like it would work—but didn’t—and that was quietly infuriating.

Fine. Let’s see who wins. Out of sheer stubbornness, she devoted a day, then another day, then another and another, to drilling the Endless Sky Sword.

A few days later—

BOOM!! A thunderous blast like a thunder-bomb going off shook the monastery during Kunlun’s final pre-departure inspection.

Namgung Daero smiled, satisfied.

The three Translucent Realm experts only revealed themselves right before the march, and a roar went up like a spear thrusting the sky.

With the Foremost Under Heaven, the Foremost Among Women, and the Sword King gathered in one place, it was only natural for the disciples’ morale to crest.

Even alongside the Foremost Under Heaven were two swordsmen worthy of reverence—how could they hold it in?

They couldn’t reveal themselves earlier.

If the disciples saw their idols and got excited, there’s no way they’d keep their mouths shut; someone would blurt “Translucent Realm!” for sure.

If a single word leaked to Sining, in a quiet winter a day was more than enough for it to spread everywhere.

With the addition of three Translucent Realm experts, the operation grew... strange.

Before, on the eve of battle, the mood had been grim and solemn, swallowing nerves.

But—come on.

Three Translucent Realm?

They have only one Flower Realm?

Can’t we just watch?

A fight to the death suddenly turning into a picnic outing was only natural.

Thus:

Kunlun Sect—advance on Blood Thunder Sound Temple.

****

Simaanggeum. “Siang” is a common women’s name on the Plateau; in the plateau tongue it’s Nima Yangzun, Niyang; meaning, “a girl born when it’s hot.”

She’d once hated a name with no surname you could look up, but no more.

From the moment the lowly plateau girl died beneath that burning summer sun and opened her eyes as something new—

She began to like the name, thinking, Isn’t it a fated name.

Siang lifted the silk that fell to the floor at the bedside, poked just her head out, and spoke:

“[Celestial Sovereign? I hear Kunlun Sect has set out?]”

Tsk. Seeing Siang’s face as if she’d glimpsed traces of someone’s vomit, the Great Pagoda Celestial Sovereign sprang up without a word.

And without even looking back—slam—he went out the door.

But Siang smiled, beaming.

“[Ah, off without hearing the rest. They say there’s a man who looks like the Sword King. Hee-hee. Not that he would’ve told me anyway.]”

Because the Heavenly Flower Sword would be there.

Of course, Eon Yeonyeong had never once said “go easy on her” or anything like that.

But everyone knew.

The Heavenly Flower Sword was Eon Yeonyeong’s special person.

So how could we be cruel?

Siang smirked and thought of her beloved Creator.

“Oh my, I didn’t bring you back expecting anything? I just failed at making a friend. So live as you please, will you? Then—have a delightful second life.”

That had been the answer to what price must be paid for a new life.

But most of the self-willed corpse-puppets wanted to help their beloved Creator; so did Siang.

Of course, there were sisters who thought themselves monsters and left.

Why are we monsters, exactly?

I can’t understand it.

Understanding aside, even so the self-willed corpse-puppets still get along.

That’s the kind of beings we are.

Life is endless and we need nothing to survive.

Even if our opinions part ways, there’s no reason to hate one another.

We are no longer human.

There’s no reason to fight, seize, and hate as humans do.

Only—

We are failures.

But we bear no regret for that.

We merely failed to become something greater.

We realized the moment we opened our eyes again that we had already become beings superior to humans.

But the Heavenly Flower Sword was not like that.

She could become the Creator’s true friend and understander.

The way to cure the great being’s loneliness we cannot cure—absolutely without failure.

“[Heeeh. They say the Heavenly Flower Sword is that beautiful—I should go see her face.]”

Siang slid right out from under the bed.

The Celestial Sovereign told her to keep not a single hair showing, but he had no authority to command her to begin with; whether she listened or not was entirely up to her.

****

“[By my divine power I have looked and seen—Kunlun Sect’s lot are beginning to swarm. From now I’ll deploy the array, so all disciples of the Blood Thunder Sound Temple will vacate the main temple.]”

The Great Pagoda Celestial Sovereign spoke glibly of “divine power,” lips not even wet.

“[At last!]”

Rinchen clenched a fist and let out a cry.

The august Celestial Sovereign possessed many wisdoms to exterminate those invaders from the Central Plains.

One of them was precisely an array.

And that fearsome Great Blood-Annihilating Heaven Array!

In fact, Rinchen didn’t know what that was.

But doesn’t the name sound terrifying.

He’d heard it was an Extermination Array—no life gate at all, no “way out”—an awful array that kills everyone, including those who deploy it.

The trash that had been littering the precinct anyway.

If they deployed the array and died together with the Kunlun dogs, they’d be given a chance to bestow merit—they should be grateful and die.

If the people of the Central Plains heard it, they’d be horrified at such a grisly method.

It was a Blood Cult absolute array that required at least three thousand human lives as entry offerings—and even then, brains, eyes, hearts, and so on all had to be used thriftily with nothing wasted to make it three thousand.

But the Blood Cult did it.

Because if you’re going to burn three thousand non–Blood Cult lives anyway, catching even a single enemy is a massive gain, right?

Besides, how many people are in the Central Plains? A mere three thousand.

Only then did the Great Pagoda Celestial Sovereign lick his lips.

He would dismantle those caught in the absolute array, one by one, and kill them.

If you mean to go into an absolute array that kills everyone, aren’t you going to die too?

Of course not.

Arrays do not work on true experts.

By the Translucent Realm, one acquires the sense to see through at will the flow of natural qi that arrays twist.

So to the Great Pagoda Celestial Sovereign, once the array unfolded, it would become a pleasant playground.

Cheonbija, was it?

If he manufactured the Kunlun Sect Leader into a blood fiend and sent him back, how delighted would the orthodox dogs be!

Already the grand undertakings were failing one after another.

If he pulled this off, the Society Head would recognize the superiority of the plateau people and honor him in the new age.

Anyway—

In the Celestial Sovereign’s head, a glorious future for the plateau people took shape.

Every one of the plateau people would hold twenty Han slaves.

All Han are slaves anyway; the number would overflow.

Every Han woman must carry, as her first child, a plateau child; the plateau people would fill the Central Plains.

For reference, this had actually been implemented in the Yuan dynasty—swap “Mongol” for “plateau people,” and it matches perfectly.

Only—his face was... sloppy, a bit.

“[Celestial Sovereign?]”

“[Ahem. In case you get caught up in it, withdraw beyond the southern ridge.]”

“[Then when should we withdraw?]”

At that, the Great Pagoda Celestial Sovereign scowled as if to say, What are you talking about.

“[What do you mean ‘when’? Not immediately.]”

“[Sorry? Right this instant, you mean? Not when the enemy draws near—deploy right now?]”

Because the Blood Thunder Sound Temple would be entirely decked with human organ displays—the wonders of the human body.

He couldn’t show that sight.

“[During preparations, if a layman fiddles with it, the whole thing turns to foam. Don’t even think of peeking; go far away.]”

“[You mean—not even come back for food?]”

“[What did you hear me say?]”

Rinchen was flummoxed.

Don’t approach at all?

Say they packed plenty of food—

Even if Kunlun came at top speed, at least ten days; how were they supposed to pass the nights in the meantime.

Still—what could he do.

“[I will obey.]”

If you’re aggrieved—should’ve become the Celestial Sovereign.