The entrance swung wide with the grinding of stone. Jung Yeonshin smoothly lowered his hand from the recess.

He had already extracted the traces of a core-energy diagram at the threshold of Spring District, working backward from them to create a key of core energy, just as he had now.

“What was that about thirty percent?”

Heon Wonchang abruptly addressed the man who had been discussing the treasure plaque’s core-energy diagram. A hearty sneer played on the lips of the great hero of Desolate Fortress.

He had never doubted Jung Yeonshin’s talent when it came to manipulating internal energy, even without having witnessed him open Spring District’s stone gate.

“What, what...?”

The man who had spoken with such refinement stammered. He hastily looked Jung Yeonshin up and down, apparently searching for a treasure plaque, but anyone could see that both the boy’s hands were bare.

He held nothing.

“What trick did you use?!”

He shouted in bewilderment. He lacked the discernment even to guess at Jung Yeonshin’s method.

“We should kill them all before we leave, shouldn’t we?”

Tang Ryeoryeo stepped forward to ask. She gazed up at Jung Yeonshin while adjusting her sleeve, and he detected the hidden weapons inside it.

She was a noble daughter of the Tang Clan. However demure she might seem before him, she had no qualms about unleashing hidden weapons.

“Wait! I am the son of a concubine of His Excellency the prefect of Shunqing! I am Seo Gwonil, the founding patriarch who left home and established the New Pillar Sect! Treat me as befits my station, and I will never forget your kindness!”

The man with the elegantly groomed beard shouted, only his lips trembling. He could not move his body. The Supreme Flame Dragon’s rough hands had sealed his paralysis points.

“Founding patriarch?”

“He calls himself a patriarch. I suppose he really is a prefect’s son.”

Several Wing-Returning Unit warriors curled their lips. All belonged to the Lightning Genius lineage and revered their temporary captain as their founding master.

Establishing a sect meant founding an entire school. The unit’s warriors could hardly take those words lightly, for a founding patriarch was a Grandmaster who had created a school of his own.

“Your station? Are you begging for your life?”

Jung Yeonshin asked with only a slight turn of his head.

Seo Gwonil, master of the New Pillar Sect, bit his lip, making his beard lift slightly.

“They say the brutes of Desolate Fortress neither speak nor act as martial artists should. How true that is. I am not begging for my life. I am giving you an opportunity to show me kindness. Are you not, after all, the authorities’ swords?”

Perhaps it was because he was the son of a high-ranking official’s concubine. He maintained his dignity to the bitter end.

The Central Plains held every sort of person. Across that vast continent, widely differing notions of common sense prevailed. Each province was like a small country in its own right. Someone from Huguang Province could not easily understand Sichuan’s customs and values.

The same applied to this Seo Gwonil. Jung Yeonshin had no particular reason to accept his way of thinking.

The boy turned away completely. He gave no further orders. A single step toward the wide-open gate was enough.

He felt the wave of force from Hong Joogeom’s sword strike surge sharply behind him.

“Gah...!”

A death throe. Seo Gwonil’s body crumpled.

He had tried to enslave innocent artisans. In this troubled world, that was reason enough to die.

“Really, it’s hard to call these artisans common folk. They live in hiding without paying tribute to the state, don’t they? Are they even subjects of the great Ming? They hardly seem like people whose livelihoods Desolate Fortress should protect.”

There was laughter in the Supreme Flame Dragon’s voice. His characteristic languor sharply exposed the vulnerability of the City of Master Artisans’ residents.

Spring District’s headman, Jang Jongmyeong, drew a faintly trembling breath. Then Heon Wonchang spoke.

“Even if they fall outside the Ming taxation system—the system for levying taxes—they, too, live and breathe in the Central Plains. If they suffer hardship through no fault of their own, helping them is right. Of course, now that the City of Master Artisans has been revealed to the world, I trust they will contribute as they ought to the livelihoods of the Central Plains.”

“...”

Jang Jongmyeong and the other members of the iron race fell silent.

Such were the principles of Desolate Fortress. Its protection was not unconditional.

Heon Wonchang, who called himself the Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior, was no simpleton in his convictions. His justice was not something others could readily exploit.

Chivalry took so many forms in this world.

Jung Yeonshin walked on in silence, pushing aside the face of Blue Qilin Namgoong Sejin that had risen unbidden in his mind.

‘Shouldn’t deciding how to live come after surviving in the first place?’

He murmured the words inwardly.

TAP.

The Wing-Returning Unit’s experts followed their young captain.

The captured enemies breathed their last at the hands of the Tang warriors. They seemed to have received some instruction from the Tang siblings. Had they been ordered to support the Lightning Genius’s advance?

Jung Yeonshin, who held the introductory techniques of Blossoms Raining Across the Sky, walked on without concerning himself. He felt the eyes of the Beggar Heir and the other Beggars’ Sect experts trailing after him.

It was a peculiar feeling.

* * *

The party broke through the City of Master Artisans’ districts with ease.

With Jung Yeonshin leading, no one could stop their passage through the city. The Wing-Returning Unit’s experts raced onward without a moment’s hesitation.

It took less than half a day. They conquered Summer District and cut down the warriors of the evil and unorthodox paths, along with those between the two paths, stationed in Autumn District.

Most of the Thirteen skies’ elite appeared to be in Winter District. Those left in the other three districts were largely warriors from small and midsized sects between the two paths.

Here and there, an expert from the Pure Demon Alliance or Ten Perfections Sect was among them, but none could withstand Namgoong Hwashin and the Supreme Flame Dragon.

And so they reached the entrance to Winter District, the City of Master Artisans’ final district.

Jung Yeonshin stood before the stone gate, his hand against the recess meant for the treasure plaque. He could now scan the traces of energy noticeably faster.

A boy and girl standing to one side stared fixedly at him. They were the Tang siblings. Tang Yeohwa and Tang Ryeoryeo never took their eyes off him, their expressions suggesting that he amazed them every time.

“Please, please let them be safe...”

Heon Wonchang muttered. Beside him, the Beggar Heir spoke.

“A futile hope, though I hesitate to say it.”

“What did you say?”

“You were separated from the Radiant Demon Squad. You should know perfectly well. The groups of experts sent by the Pure Demon Alliance and Ten Perfections Sect are every bit the squad’s equal. Each group individually, at that. Simple arithmetic puts the difference in fighting strength at two to one.”

“...”

“If they clash head-on, annihilation is the natural outcome. That is why the Radiant Demon Squad has been driven back so helplessly. They seem to be holding on somehow because they are all seasoned experts.”

He met Heon Wonchang’s gaze with easy composure and slowly continued.

“The combat units under the Divine Sword Squad were originally created to oppose the elites of the Thirteen skies and the Nine Great Sects. Conversely, that means the elite force of one major sect can contend with one Divine Sword Squad combat unit. That is how it looks from the outside. I point this out because I, too, have no wish to see you all wiped out for nothing.”

“...”

There was no reason to argue over facts. Heon Wonchang kept his mouth shut. Nothing useful would come of prolonging the quarrel.

“The child from the Beggars’ Sect is right. Those men are exceedingly powerful. The Thirteen skies always have been.”

The voice came from overhead.

Jung Yeonshin hastily looked up. He had not sensed the stranger’s presence until the man spoke.

“Such brilliantly shining martial talent. You, you, and you. It has been a long time since I saw such a refreshing sight.”

A man stood upside down on the lofty cavern ceiling, the soles of both feet clinging to it through exquisite Mobility Arts.

His eyes indicated members of the party—apparently the Supreme Flame Dragon, Namgoong Hwashin, and Jung Yeonshin.

‘Could it be...?!’

The instant he noticed the man, an immense force of spirit washed over him. The presence was truly formidable, belying the man’s extremely short stature.

Jung Yeonshin guessed the middle-aged man’s identity by instinct. Since entering Sichuan, he had heard of only one supreme master with an iron-race appearance who could be so impressive.

“My name is Tang Unhwang.”

The middle-aged man wore a long green robe.

Poison Lord Tang Unhwang. It was a famous name, known even in Xiangyang, far from Sichuan.

“The Tang clan head...!”

Heon Wonchang’s voice sank low. Tang Unhwang dropped lightly from his inverted perch on the cavern ceiling.

With supreme Mobility Arts, he righted himself in midair. It seemed to be the wondrous workings of the Tang Clan’s secret Heaven-Treading Nine Firmaments Movement Art, which Jung Yeonshin had only heard of.

He alighted smoothly, making scarcely a sound, and approached Jung Yeonshin with gentle steps.

The Tang siblings watched in shock, but he did not so much as glance at his children.

“The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad said reinforcements might be worth waiting for. I never imagined such an unexpected young talent would come, but he has proven right in the end.”

“My respects, Clan Head Tang.”

Jung Yeonshin offered a clasped-fist salute, taking care not to give the impression that he was looking down on him.

The boy had been growing rapidly of late, ever since his Dragon-Phoenix Summit mission. His whole body was approaching adulthood. The clan head’s head reached only a little above his waist.

Poison Lord Tang Unhwang’s lips curved slightly.

Just then—

COUGH.

Tang Unhwang coughed up clotted blood. It came without warning, leaving dark red droplets in his beard.

“... Pay it no mind. It merely attests to how ruthless my father’s blows were.”

He spat out the remaining blood as he spoke.

The Tang clan head. They said he had lost his wife to the Ten Perfections Sect and Pure Demon Alliance. He had wished to pour the Sichuan Tang Clan’s martial might into vengeance, but the retired clan head had opposed him, so he had severed ties and left home.

‘It didn’t end with an argument.’

Jung Yeonshin could not know whether they had fought openly or whether the retired clan head, who truly ruled the Tang Clan, had laid a trap.

Normally, the Eight Great Family heads were said to look down even on most of Desolate Fortress’s Black-ranked warriors.

Now, however, Tang Unhwang did not feel stronger than Ma Jin. His internal injuries had not healed.

For a moment, he overlapped with the image of Jung Yeonshin’s maternal grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok. Both were men pressing toward their goals, burdened by their diminished martial strength.

“There is no time for a lengthy discussion. I intend to help you. I will lend my strength to annihilating the men inside Winter District. Frankly, I had no intention of joining a hopeless fight, but now it seems worth taking a stab at it.”

As Tang Unhwang spoke, Tang Ryeoryeo and Tang Yeohwa hesitantly tried to approach. He turned away with a single remark.

“This is not the time. We must settle matters in the City of Master Artisans first.”

“...”

That was the end of it. The mission to rescue the Radiant Demon Squad gathered momentum.

Tang Unhwang gave them detailed information about the Ten Perfections Sect and Pure Demon Alliance, enough for them to know precisely the identities, martial arts, and numbers of those in Winter District.

“You need no treasure plaque? You were born with an ability to deploy internal energy rarely seen through the ages. I would like to see how you use that talent in actual combat.”

He addressed Jung Yeonshin, who had once again placed his hand against the stone gate’s recess.

The boy closed his eyes.

‘The decisive battle begins the moment this gate opens.’

As he extracted the core-energy diagram in his mind, he also reviewed the qi-circulation route of his nearly completed internal martial art.

He had been working on it for a truly long time, ever since the Desolate Fortress Master had taught him the Moon Spirit Harmonization Art.

‘I have to change the properties of my core energy all at once. Can I achieve it in actual combat?’

He revisited his starting points: the teachings of the Diamond Sutra, the Moon Spirit Harmonization Art, the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike, the Demonic Asura Blood Art, the Movement Art...

Meanwhile, he heard the amiable Heon Wonchang conversing with the Tang clan head.

“Are you not after Winter District’s treasure as well, Clan Head? They say Great Master Bodhidharma’s crystallized core energy can create a spiritual nature.”

“I have no need of it. I can create that myself. When you put your soul into each hammer blow, a weapon takes on a spiritual nature. That is what people commonly call a divine sword or a divine weapon.”

“Create it...? What exactly is a spiritual nature?”

“To human eyes, it is an exceedingly faint intent, but it is a power distinct from internal energy. A wondrous quality. Only artisans who have reached the requisite heights can handle it.”

“Are you praising yourself?”

“Imagine a chipped piece of iron repairing itself. What a magnificent thing it is to create such a divine weapon. Like the giant Pangu in the creation myth, one creates life with human hands.”

The Tang clan head seemed a more jovial man than expected. Unlike his dealings with his children, he got along splendidly with Heon Wonchang.

‘Putting a spiritual nature into iron makes it a divine sword? Then what if I put it into a martial art...?’

The thought struck Jung Yeonshin. The Desolate Fortress Master’s advice flashed through his mind, a teaching that ran in the same vein as Tang Unhwang’s words.

[“Imbue the flow you have fashioned with intent. If you breathe through a divine technique, you will ascend to the black rank.”]

Meanwhile—

RUMBLE!

The gate opened beneath the boy’s fingertips.

The assembled warriors who revered the Lightning Genius martial lineage drew their swords in unison.

Hazy light spilled through. The City of Master Artisans’ final district was coming into view.