Xiangyang was only one post station away from Wuchang.

The return was swift. With blue-, black-, and purple-robed masters in their party, they ran without rest until they reached the Desolate Fortress itself in Xiangyang.

Their speed was refreshingly brisk. The only shadow was Namgoong Hwashin's gloomy expression, unchanged since he had awakened after Ak Surim knocked him unconscious on the day of the duels.

"I'll deliver the mission report, together with Senior Ak."

Jung Yeonshin offered him this small consideration. White Qilin Namgoong Hwashin had been unable to do anything at his own family home.

It was a wretched outcome, especially after all the anguish he must have endured before reaching Azure Wild Valley, where the duels were held.

"... Thank you, Young Master Jung."

Namgoong Hwashin nodded and turned away. The hem of the long blue robe hanging from his tall frame fluttered listlessly.

He looked ready to go straight to his quarters at the Suncheon Wing and lie down.

Jung Yeonshin watched him silently. How must he feel? Yeonshin scarcely dared imagine.

"It was the best option."

Standing beside the boy, Ak Surim spoke offhandedly.

"The Vast Heaven Sword Corps Leader isn't someone a rising young martial artist can handle. He's in the realm of black robes, on par with the leader of the Plum Blossom Swordsmen. You or Namgoong Hwashin—either of you would have died the moment your swords crossed. You wouldn't have lasted more than a few moves. You had grounds to withdraw, but saving Namgoong Hwashin meant forcing the issue."

She was referring to knocking Namgoong Hwashin unconscious just before his duel.

Jung Yeonshin agreed.

"I don't blame you, Senior Ak. Not me, at least," he said. "It's just that Young Master Namgoong seems to think he would have been better off dying there."

The boy never took his eyes off Namgoong Hwashin's retreating back. They had formed a friendship through competition and gone on a mission together.

Was it because Hwashin's family circumstances were pitiable too? That strange sense of kinship made it hard to stop caring.

"Hmm."

Ak Surim closed her lips. She seemed to have no answer to that.

"Yeonshin."

An aged voice rang out, full of vigor. It was his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok.

Seemingly indifferent to Namgoong Hwashin, he looked only at his grandson as he continued.

"I know Se-In's mother treated you rudely. It was just before this mission. In all the commotion, I never had her apologize. Please visit the Ma clan's residence within the fortress. Our house will welcome you with all sincerity."

His words brought Ju Yeonjeong to mind. She was said to belong to a collateral branch of the imperial family.

She was the mother of Ma Se-In, heir to desolate’s ma clan. She had tried every means to win over Jung Yeonshin, who carried Ma blood.

He felt nothing about it now. That incident had allowed him to open his heart to Heon Wonchang, Baek Miryeo, and Chung Myung.

"There's no need."

Just as Jung Yeonshin was about to shake his head, Ma Yeonjeok's stern expression crumbled. He even looked desperate.

"I know what worries you. You fear I might draw you into the Ma clan and bind you to the family. I swear I will not. Think of this as the regret of a foolish old man who first severed his bond with his daughter—your mother. Everything... was the result of my own failings."

"Ah, so that's what happened."

Beside them, Ak Surim nodded in understanding. Ma Yeonjeok shot her a glare as if warning her not to meddle in family affairs, but she merely returned it with a contemptuous sidelong look.

"No wonder I never saw him at the Ma clan. A boy like this, too."

"Shut your mouth, whelp. How dare an outsider meddle in matters of blood?"

"Your tongue's as rough as ever. I wonder if your skills are still what they were. You were terrifying when you were Divine Sword Squad Leader, but these days, you look rather manageable."

"Do you truly wish to die?"

"Aren't you the one wasting away because you couldn't achieve Rejuvenation, Grandpa Ma? I'm starting to consider a purple robe myself. I wonder if the Command Bureau would count beating up a feeble old man."

A fierce smile curved Ak Surim's lips as she reached for the spear shaft behind her back.

"I'll be going ahead."

Jung Yeonshin calmly shifted his feet, poised to turn away.

The qi waves of a black robe and a purple robe of the Desolate Fortress had been on the verge of colliding. He had intended this, at least in part, and fortunately it seemed to work.

The two supreme masters' aggression vanished without a trace.

They had made a spectacle of themselves in front of someone generations their junior.

"I'll consider what you said, Grandfather."

Jung Yeonshin clasped his hands in a martial salute.

His grandfather nodded, his face even reddening. It lent weight to his admission that practicing domineering martial arts made maintaining his prowess difficult.

Orthodox martial arts, which refined both body and mind, were said to advance endlessly, however slowly.

The old masters of the Nine Great Sects who were around Ma Yeonjeok's age must have cultivated their minds deeply.

"... Thank you."

Ma Yeonjeok nodded. He could not possibly know what his grandson was thinking.

"What a shame."

Ak Surim would not stop provoking him to the very end. When the boy finally turned and walked away, she gave a little laugh and followed.

Jung Yeonshin headed for the Command Bureau with the Desolate Divine Spear, Ak Surim. He delayed no longer.

As soon as they reached the Command Bureau's main building, a man in a long brown robe greeted them.

He had a jet-black beard and a broad, imposing build.

It was Im Jinmyeong, the Desolate Fortress's Chief Administrator. Beaming at Jung Yeonshin, he looked like a hearty mountain bandit.

"I've heard of your victory. Our fortress master's direct disciple distinguished himself greatly. I've been eagerly awaiting you."

"Speaking so respectfully to a blue robe because he's the fortress master's direct disciple? You're the same sort as ever, Chief Administrator."

Ak Surim seemed to know him as well. Naturally enough.

Jung Yeonshin and Ak Surim were promptly shown to the Command Bureau's annex, where he had discussed merit points with the Chief Administrator before.

The three sat around the desk.

There were no teacups or other refreshments. Something urgent must have come up. Only the faint scent of ink drifted across the starkly bare desktop.

THUMP!

They had scarcely taken their seats before the Chief Administrator mentioned the Elder Council Leader.

"Senior Ak, I received an urgent letter. It says the Elder Council Leader never joined you. Is it true that all word of him ceased while he was pursuing a Blood Flame Cult Apostle...?"

The welfare of a purple-robed master was indeed a grave matter. Yet at the same time, it was not.

It was an ambiguous problem that might simply be left alone. Such were his martial prowess and status. Who would worry about the safety of a peerless master so rare in all the world?

"So he hasn't returned to the fortress ahead of us after all."

Both the Chief Administrator and Ak Surim sounded uncertain. They could not tell whether to take this seriously or dismiss it as an absolute master's whim.

"He's always been so free-spirited. Perhaps he's enjoying a rare excursion..."

Ak Surim shook her head at the Chief Administrator's words.

"I wonder. If that were all, he'd at least have sent a messenger pigeon. I have a bad feeling about this."

Jung Yeonshin listened without a word. He felt this was no place for a blue robe with his limited experience to interject.

"You have a point. We shall have to send a search party after all. And we're already short of skilled personnel."

The Chief Administrator immediately took a sheet of paper from a drawer and spread it out. Holding his inked brush upright, he began to write.

Ak Surim watched him for a while before speaking.

"I'm concerned about the gap in our strength. If anyone on the level of a major sect leader makes a move, we'll be in trouble. Especially those Thirteen skies bastards."

"As long as word doesn't spread, we'll be fine. We can still manage."

Jung Yeonshin inwardly agreed with the Chief Administrator.

The strength sustaining the Desolate Fortress did not lie in its handful of purple-robed masters.

They were symbols of the fortress and cards played on missions requiring the swiftest possible kills, not a force to rely on in ordinary circumstances. There were too few of them.

The Divine Sword Squad's seventeen combat units—those were its true coercive power.

The Radiant Demon Squad's masters had fought Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Swordsmen to a draw. He had been told this happened before he joined.

The Plum Blossom Swordsmen had been hailed as an elite force since before the Nine Great Sects were known by that name.

And that was the strength of just one combat unit under the Divine Sword Squad.

The Nine Great Sects and the Thirteen skies.

Each of those major powers possessed only one such elite force, while the Desolate Fortress had seventeen.

That was why its missions to secure the people's livelihoods could encompass the entire land, however difficult the undertaking.

"Ah."

The Chief Administrator suddenly looked up, his expression deeply apologetic.

"I've been discourteous, Young Master Jung. You came to report on your mission, didn't you? Since everyone in the surrounding Jianghu already knows what happened, I'll consider the report delivered. Please go rest and recover from your journey."

"Yes. I'll be standing by for a mission at the Radiant Demon Squad."

The Chief Administrator's face took on an awkward expression.

"But must you...? You've only just returned... We haven't even finished settling the rewards for this mission."

"I'll await my next mission."

Jung Yeonshin deliberately said it again. Opportunities to express his resolve directly to the head of the Command Bureau rarely came along.

He emphasized it once more to the Chief Administrator, who now looked thoroughly overwhelmed.

Ak Surim spoke with a cheerful smile.

"Yeonshin, I'll visit the Radiant Demon Squad hall soon. I plan to laze about a little before heading out."

"Yes. I'd appreciate your instruction."

There was no reason to refuse. Jung Yeonshin resolved to look forward to the black-robed supreme master's visit as well.

"Until then."

He rose, paid his respects, and left the annex. At once, several people approached him.

The Command Bureau scholars, whom he had won over with his first impression, rose one after another to greet him.

"Young Master Jung, we've heard all about your martial renown!"

"You killed the Namgoong young clan head, I hear? You're now one of our fortress's rising talents in name and deed!"

"You'll have all sorts of missions coming your way now."

Jung Yeonshin returned each greeting. Any of these men might someday hold authority over assignments. Only then could he leave the Command Bureau with an easy mind.

STEP.

The ground beneath his foot was unexpectedly muddy. Was it because of last night's rain?

'Time passes so quickly.'

It was midsummer already.

WHOOOSH.

A bright breeze suddenly swept over the softened earth. It brushed through the hair of the boy standing there in a daze.

His heart, too, was soft earth. It held his fear of a life with less than three and a half years remaining.

'Any unforeseen turn... could have killed me.'

The Blue Qilin had been strong. The Namgoong clan head had been formidable.

And the Divine Sword Squad Leader was sublime. Exalted was the right word for him. Even when he vomited blood.

The boy always had to send his useless emotions away on the wind.

He feared, too, the primal terror that would come if he failed to do so. This was the right way if he wished to survive in the turbulent Jianghu.

His disposition and temperament were crafted things. His composure was something he had forged himself—his own divine sword for winning every battle.

"..."

Jung Yeonshin stood motionless for a while, thinking of nothing. A boy from a village in Xinye County had to do this if he was to survive at the heart of the Jianghu.

And so this mission came to a close.

The summer breeze returned, lukewarm, lifting the hem of his robe. It seemed to tell him in silence:

You have survived once more, earned the merit points you deserve, and taken another step toward life.

After a brief silence, the boy agreed.

* * *

Jung Yeonshin had just reached the Radiant Demon Squad's hall when cries rang out.

"Brother Jung!"

"It's Lightning Genius!"

People poured out of the building, whose very roof ridge was elegant.

Most were young—boys and girls.

Only a scattering of youthful-looking young men stood among the group of fifteen or so.

"You beat the Namgoong heir, right? Hurry and tell us about it!"

"No, let Brother Jung rest first."

There was something endearing about the way they caught at Jung Yeonshin's blue robe and chattered around him.

They were the Radiant Demon Squad's trainee warriors.

The Desolate Fortress's masters followed the hierarchy of white, blue, black, and purple robes, but they were not its only martial practitioners.

Those wearing colored martial robes dealt with the upper echelons of the Jianghu.

Even the white-robed warriors of the combat units under the Divine Sword Squad were masters far beyond the reach of third-rate wandering fighters.

But there were also those without a color. They were known as unranked disciples.

"Please teach me the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. I read the secret manual, but I couldn't understand it. Now they say I can't even look at it. That ugly scholar said so."

"You said I could ask first! The Radiant Sword Art! Please show me the Radiant Sword Art, just once!"

The hands tugging at his robe were surprisingly strong. Their clamor was intense.

These children had always liked Jung Yeonshin, but this felt a little more extreme than usual.

'My personal martial arts.'

They meant the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike and the Radiant Sword Art. His decision to donate his arts—for merit points, and to counter any counters others might devise—seemed to have borne fruit.

Then it happened.

"Senior Lightning Genius."

Someone approached hesitantly. It was a girl wearing her long white robe like a court gown.

Her steps were exceptionally supple and light. She had clearly learned footwork of a very high order.

She was Shin Sobin of the Desolate Fortress's Shin Clan, a warrior who had joined after Jung Yeonshin.

The assignment of a cherished daughter of such a distinguished clan to the Radiant Demon Squad had once caused quite a stir.

"Congratulations on your successful mission."

"Shin Sobin."

Jung Yeonshin gave her a slight nod. A smile briefly touched her lips before disappearing.

"I'm practicing the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike too. I think I've made fairly good progress through the third form, even by my own standards. The principles behind its combat paths are so novel. Thank you for letting us see such an exquisite martial art."

"Congratulations."

The boy offered his praise.

Shin Sobin cautiously studied his placid face.

"Um, could I ask when the fourth form will be available? The flow of the combat paths is clearly designed to continue."

She spoke with an earnest look.

'She's talking about Radiant River.'

That seemed to be what she had come for. Unbidden, Namgoong Sejin's face came to Jung Yeonshin's mind.

His smile as he spoke of the River of Three Paths, his eyes filled with Jung Yeonshin alone, the spirit with which he had spoken of freedom at the very end...

"That one, I'm not going to donate."

The boy answered without hesitation.