The Divine Sword Squad Leader's eyes were seeing straight through Jung Yeonshin.

His tone had been casual, but his gaze flashed like lightning, enough to raise a faint prickle of gooseflesh.

The boy knew instinctively. The squad leader's words had not merely skimmed the surface. He had seen right through his constitution and spoken of it as though in passing.

"..."

Lightning Genius would die young. The Divine Sword Squad Leader had realized it.

'This could always have happened.'

He had no reason to think the squad leader's internal qi art inferior to the Zhongnan Sword Immortal's. Just as that old immortal had immediately recognized his constitution, it would be nothing strange if the squad leader had discerned his doomed, short-lived fate as well.

He had even stroked Yeonshin's head himself, where the Baihui point lay.

Jung Yeonshin glanced unconsciously at his maternal grandfather.

Before their encounter with the Martial Dragon Society, he had heard that the old man's martial prowess had declined in his later years. Apparently, the divine technique of the Desolate's Ma Clan that he had mastered as the former Divine Sword Squad Leader had a distinct period of prime strength.

Burdened by his past deeds, Ma Yeonjeok did not even dare lay a hand on his grandson. With the Desolate Fortress Master keeping silent as well, he had no way at all of discovering the constitution that condemned the boy to an early death.

"That brat from the Yong family isn't entirely wrong. You must take care of yourself."

His grandfather spoke when their eyes met.

'So the squad leader's surname is Yong.'

Jung Yeonshin realized anew how little the man's name was known compared with his formidable reputation. It was peculiar.

While the boy pondered this, Ma Yeonjeok smiled in satisfaction, as if agreeing with the squad leader. His snow-white mustache lifted at both ends.

"Yeonshin, you are a true treasure of this fortress. Young talents who have only just entered the martial world and are making names for themselves are the future of their respective sects."

"Honored predecessor, surely you're not going senile..."

The Divine Sword Squad Leader frowned. He had meant something entirely different.

Jung Yeonshin watched the operatic spectacle in silence. The squad leader and his grandfather were talking at cross-purposes.

Clad in the purple robes of the Desolate Fortress, the aged master Ma Yeonjeok widened his eyes and continued.

"That remains true even if a martial artist cannot avoid duels to the death. Life must come first. I do not say this because Yeonshin is my grandson. Just how valuable is the Radiant Demon Squad's Lightning Genius? Whatever the mission, the fortress must actively support him so that he can stand on the winning side..."

"So it is senility of another kind. What a pity. There was a time when catching up to you was my goal."

"Nonsense. You reckless whelp."

At Ma Yeonjeok's rebuke, the squad leader turned his head. His eyes, flashing with colorless qi-light, seemed to ask what on earth had happened.

Meeting his gaze silently, the boy merely started to lower his head a fraction, then stopped.

Had it looked like a full nod? The squad leader clicked his tongue like an old man and shook his head.

"Good grief. Just how much bad karma has our old man piled up...?"

Ma Yeonjeok, head of the Desolate's Ma Clan, did not know. Was it because his abilities had declined, as he himself had said?

There was no telling how he would react if he learned of Jung Yeonshin's constitution. Would his devoted attitude change completely? Or would he make every effort to save his grandson?

'I've already received a fragment of the World Tree's fruit from the fortress master. There's no need.'

So Jung Yeonshin thought. There was no reason to go out of his way to entangle himself in complications. He could not advance in rank on merit points earned for him by someone else. Besides, rising to a higher realm was entirely his own responsibility.

"You're old man Ma's grandson? I never heard the Desolate's Ma Clan had a child like you."

Ak Surim leaned in, frowning.

Jung Yeonshin merely nodded without a word, and she shook her head.

"I was rather fond of you, but you've got some nasty blood in your veins. What a shame. There are plenty of people in the Ma clan you shouldn't have anything to do with."

She seemed utterly unconcerned by Ma Yeonjeok's fearsome expression. Turning her cheerful face away from the former squad leader came perfectly naturally to her. Perhaps it was the combination of her uninhibited temperament and martial prowess said to contend for the strongest among the fortress's black robes.

As Jung Yeonshin inadvertently recalled Ju Yeonjeong, a member of a collateral branch of the imperial family, Ak Surim continued.

"Well, the squad leader and the old man are right. And our predecessor Ma does seem to be such a doting fool that it's verging on senility."

"..."

"A winner-stays-on format, honestly. Lightning Genius, you overdid it too. How many young talents could defeat the Blue Qilin unscathed? Even with the strength, you need luck on your side. Every martial artist has days when a fight goes exceptionally well. You're lucky today was one of them, child."

Like the squad leader, she had many facets. Her expression now was utterly innocent. She even looked younger than Yeon Soha, who chimed in beside her.

"I wasn't particularly worried about the squad leader either. I've seen the Zhuge clan head before, and from appearances, he didn't quite live up to what I'd heard. If anything, I was surprised the Namgoong clan head left our leader in that state. I thought the Eight Great Family heads were about half a step below the leaders of the Nine Great Sects, but I suppose the Namgoong clan head was different."

"It is Namgoong, after all. They must be counted among the most outstanding of the Eight Families. Their greatest masters' martial attainments would not fall far behind those of most of the Thirteen Skies or the Nine Great Sects."

Yeon Soha nodded at the other Divine Sword Unit master's words.

"Unless we're talking about somewhere like Shaolin or Wudang, I suppose... I was more worried when Lightning Genius faced the Blue Qilin. You really can't know how a fight in the martial world will go until it starts. Who could have predicted that? There are so many variables."

"Your reputation will spread tremendously. Give it a little time, and it might easily cross two or three provinces."

Ak Surim beamed, tapping Jung Yeonshin on the shoulder. By now, she seemed to be treating him like a plaything she had grown rather fond of.

She was a black-robed supreme master who had undergone Rejuvenation. Should he consider it an honor? Jung Yeonshin stood still.

Yeon Soha gave a short laugh and nodded.

"His reputation, eh? Well, it's not as though only one or two people watched those duels."

"Exactly."

As the Divine Sword Unit masters chatted lightly with Jung Yeonshin between them, a voice called out.

"Lightning Genius, come here. Let us speak alone for a moment."

The squad leader wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He seemed to have finished coughing up all the blood he needed to.

Pale-faced, he beckoned to Jung Yeonshin. The unit's martial artists calmly stepped aside, but Ma Yeonjeok moved forward among them, looking displeased.

"You Yong brat. You're not about to make some rash proposal, are you?"

"Your needless worrying certainly does justice to your senility."

The squad leader smiled briefly.

"The boy clearly means the world to Ma Jin. I have no desire to take him on a whim and suffer that eunuch's curses..."

"What did you just say?"

"You seem to think I mean to requisition him for the Divine Sword Unit, but we have no particular need for Lightning Genius at present. Your concern is pointless. Perhaps the unit was weak in your day, honored predecessor. Wasn't that how it was before I joined?"

"What?"

"Now you're angry. What are you waiting for, Lightning Genius? Let me hear your story."

The squad leader beckoned with a roguish expression.

"Just the two of us."

That brief addition weighed heavily on him. Jung Yeonshin slowly nodded.

* * *

Fragments of softly glowing stone were embedded in the hall's ceiling. Precious night-shining pearls hung like lamps, illuminating the place as though moonlight had been drawn down into it.

There were two visitors. A man carrying a purple-clad figure over his shoulder led the way.

STEP.

The instant he took a haughty step forward, the light of a nearby night-shining pearl abruptly went out.

He treated the natural principles within those treasures as though they were mere candle flames. His hair, caught in the light, was snow-white.

The same thing happened with every step. Pitch-black darkness spread in his wake like the breath of a great demon. Even the inscription hanging along one side of the corridor—"Sword Gate, the Road to Shu; Tang Clan, the Way of Heaven"—vanished silently into the dark.

"They put up new ones every time I come. I shall have to tell them to take them all down."

The man continued in a gentle voice.

"They are more than a little irritating. Those Tang Clan people are unusually fond of brightness. Most unbecoming behavior, is it not? Perhaps it is because they themselves are so dark."

"..."

"Seventh Apostle, why so quiet? You have been this way all along. Even after your Cult Leader saved you."

"I have a lot on my mind."

At the woman's brief answer, the man laughed heartily.

"Was coming so close to death a shock?"

"..."

"Come to think of it, you too were noble from birth. You were raised with exceptional care in our cult."

"With care?"

"When else have you encountered an unrivaled master like one of the Desolate Fortress's purple robes? The Lords of the Thirteen Skies and the leaders of the Nine Great Sects stand in such realms as well. There are few such powerful figures in the world. Even I acknowledge them. Do not be intimidated."

His languid yet alluring voice continued. Every night-shining pearl they had passed was now extinguished.

Abyssal darkness swirled around him like silken robes. It was a sight beyond the mortal world.

"Had my exalted body been whole, I would have taken the exhausted Divine Sword Squad Leader's head. What a precious opportunity wasted. It is all very well that the wielder of the Supreme Sword acts as I wish, but the trouble is that he always stops after a single intervention. A pity indeed."

"..."

"I hope the Namgoong clan head has at least taken an arm from the squad leader. Their contest should be settled by now."

"Tell me the result too. You must."

At last, the Seventh Apostle spoke freely.

Perhaps pleased by this, the Blood Flame Cult Leader's next words carried a smile.

"I know you cherish the young Grand Preceptor. I shall do so. He is a boy we must bring here eventually."

After that, only footsteps echoed. The two who presided over the world's terror of blood fiends walked differently.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader's footwork held alluring, profound mysteries, while the Seventh Apostle's steps were simply light. Only the ease with which they moved through the dark, as though in their own home, was alike.

At last, they reached the darkness deep within the hall.

"I have told you so many times, yet you simply will not listen. I asked you not to disturb my practice."

An aged voice rang out, tinged with anger.

It was a large stone chamber, built within the hall. An old man holding a small dagger glared at the Cult Leader and the Seventh Apostle. His body was gaunt, but his silk robes looked as though gold might rub off them. Light from the one remaining night-shining pearl gathered in his eyes and along the dagger, flowing in intricate gleams.

A high-legged bed stood in the center, likewise made of stone.

A Blood Master Swordsman with dark-red hair lay bound upon it, eyes wide open. The tip of the old man's blade was resting against his chest.

"Disturb your practice? How could that be? I am the very one who promised you my full support."

At the same time, the Cult Leader dropped the person slung over his shoulder with a thud.

"The Desolate Fortress's Elder Council Leader," he said.

"What did you say? This is madness...!"

Madness spread across the old man's face. First came disbelieving shock, then, in less than two breaths, it began turning to ecstasy.

The Cult Leader spoke.

"An unrivaled purple-robed master. He may be no match for the Divine Sword Squad Leader, but is he not a superlative specimen for your practice? I nearly died yet again, with my body still damaged from the Desolate Fortress Master's attack. Had the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord not arrived just then, I would have. I heard he had entered seclusion after losing to the Zhongnan Sect. The swordsmanship he displayed upon emerging again was astonishing."

"With this man, I can greatly hasten the grand procedure."

The old man paid him no heed. He hurriedly crouched beside the Elder Council Leader's head and muttered.

"I had been wanting to study a body brought to the pinnacle through orthodox cultivation. It was a source of considerable concern, since I could hardly cut you open, Cult Leader. You blood fiends have truly splendid bodies. Words cannot describe the advances your regenerative abilities have brought to medicine."

"Your insolence pleases me. You understand my generosity."

"My grandchildren will receive the grand procedure first."

"How many can benefit from it?"

"As I told you before, five is the limit. Even with every medicinal ingredient we can gather. Three for you, two for us. Was that not our agreement?" the old man asked.

"Yes, indeed."

After that brief reply, the Cult Leader's clear gaze swept through the stone chamber before stopping on a large illustration mounted in the middle of the wall.

It was a diagram of the human body. It depicted everything from the grain of the muscles throughout the body to the pressure points, the twelve primary meridians, and the eight extraordinary meridians.

Among them, the Baihui point at the crown of the head was exceptionally broad. Noticing his gaze, the old man's mouth split into a grotesque grin.

"The Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius," the old man said with a maddened smile.

"That... is not a body like ours. It is truly wondrous. Even including your Blood Flame Cult's bloodlines and those noble-race wretches. I am nearly mad with anticipation for the grand procedure. Its crux lies there: how closely we can approximate the body in that diagram."

"Not a body like ours? What does it look like to you?"

The lovely voice was heated. It was the first time the Seventh Apostle had spoken since entering the chamber. As though he had been waiting for the question, the old man continued.

"With a configuration of pressure points as inexplicable as a supernatural abomination, and having even mastered a Movement Art that ranks among the world's divine techniques..."

The old man's breathing grew ragged, suffused with supreme longing and excitement.

"He is closer to a spirit beast pretending to be human."