The Tang clan head and the Tang siblings looked perfectly calm. No one rebuked Heon Wonchang. Nor did they seem offended; they merely stood quietly, watching Jung Yeonshin.

The great hero of Desolate Fortress's muttering went ignored.

“It must sound baffling. This water develops mysterious properties after gathering the light of several full moons,” Tang Unhwang said with a faint smile.

The exceedingly deferential language he had briefly used had given way to ordinary courtesy. Jung Yeonshin had asked him to speak less formally at Desolate Fortress's Kuizhou branch.

Even ordinary courtesy felt burdensome coming from one of the Eight Great Family heads. That held true even for a boy relatively indifferent to worldly affairs. Tang Unhwang's standing was among the most exalted in the martial world.

Yet he had never gone so far as to address Yeonshin as an inferior.

“We call it spirit water. It can substitute for the spiritual nature an artisan imparts only when heaven's timing is right. It is something mysterious, like a dragon vein or a spiritual vein. It is why the great founding patriarch who established our martial lineage settled here.”

The clear sound of water flowing down the artificial mountain seemed to wind around Tang Unhwang's gentle voice. It was a place of lovely atmosphere.

Jung Yeonshin nodded, running his hands over the hilts of his two swords.

“I can only thank you.”

“The extraordinary weapons our clan produces from time to time owe their existence to this spirit water. They are not common, but neither are they rare. This is still too little to call repayment, so please, Teacher, do not thank us just yet.”

He spoke with a slight smile. The bushy beard covering his mouth gave him an affable air.

He possessed both a cheerfulness that seemed his true nature and the aspect of a ravaged avenger. The boy could still picture it clearly: the utterly merciless motion of the Tang clan head's hand as he swept Fell Sword Gal Saryang and the assembled Thirteen Skies warriors to their deaths with Blossoms Raining Across the Sky.

Compared with his manner toward Jung Yeonshin, he hardly seemed the same man.

“We will melt it down again, mixing in some dark iron that has already been immersed once in the spirit water. Weight and surface area are the issue, but the water can accommodate your sword, Teacher. Both are conventional three-chi swords. Less than a cun wide. Weapons for martial artists.”

Tang Unhwang's eyes swept over Jung Yeonshin's twin swords. He had already seen the Desolate Sword's blade, but had deduced Northern Radiance's shape from its hilt and scabbard alone.

He was also right to call them weapons for martial artists. Three chi meant roughly one meter—a blade long enough that an ordinary person without martial training would have to wield it with both hands.

Tang Unhwang and the siblings followed the movement of Jung Yeonshin's fingers over the hilts. When his fingertips briefly touched the Desolate Sword, Tang Unhwang spoke again.

“Common, and famous as well. Exceedingly well made. Enough to make me curious about the artisan, though it is a standard-issue Desolate Fortress weapon...”

It was the sword that had long carried Jung Yeonshin's Radiant Sword Art. Rumor held that iron-race weapons grew alongside their owners, and even if this sword had been mass-produced for issue, it was the one most familiar to his hand.

Once, he had thought no sword under heaven could suit him better.

Things were different now. He had created the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art and attained Black rank, however temporarily. He would now face supreme masters one after another, yet his blade was already badly nicked.

'The sword cannot withstand it.'

It could not easily endure his enemies' terrifying internal energy and sword force in succession.

Weapons were, by nature, expendable. There was a reason the Desolate Sword was called standard issue. Whenever the fortress's warriors returned from missions, they were continually supplied with quality weapons. Most masters the Desolate Fortress's martial artists had to face possessed techniques capable of damaging metal.

There were limits to protecting a blade with internal energy.

SHING.

Jung Yeonshin drew both swords at once. Tang Unhwang's gaze immediately swept down Northern Radiance. Sunlight broke across the rippling pattern running along its blade.

It was the sword Yeonshin had been awarded for his accomplishments at the Blood Flame Cult's headquarters.

“A rare treasure of a sword,” Tang Unhwang said.

It appeared to satisfy even the discerning eye of the Tang clan head, renowned as a master craftsman.

Jung Yeonshin, too, had sensed something special about Northern Radiance's grain. It rode the wind well. The Desolate Sword's balance was also faultless, but this blade felt different—harder, yet better able to cleave the air.

He had merely had few opportunities to put his sword arts into it.

'Because the Desolate Sword was what I wielded when I created the Radiant Sword Art.'

With so many urgent situations, he had unconsciously kept using the sword familiar to his hand. It was a small vicious cycle. Now, it seemed, the time had come to let go.

After surviving numerous mortal struggles with a standard-issue sword, Jung Yeonshin had entered a new domain. However attached he was to it, a divine sword would help him fight his way toward resolving his short lifespan.

“An excellent choice. This one is far better, after all. Its underlying quality is much finer,” the Tang clan head said, accepting the hilt of Northern Radiance from Jung Yeonshin.

“An extraordinary weapon is one whose edge scarcely ever breaks. With its blade standing firm, it entrusts the outcome of battle entirely to its owner's martial arts. You know well, Teacher, how powerful a form can be when unleashed without concern.”

“Yes. Forgive me for asking, but might I know how long it will take?”

The boy asked quietly. Tang Unhwang immediately burst into hearty laughter.

“Such caution only makes me feel hurt. Speak freely, and I will answer anything. As for the time needed to reforge it into a divine sword, we will need a month or so. I intend to blend the spiritually imbued dark iron into it in the most ideal fashion. I have already sent word to the clan's master artisans. I will be the one wielding the hammer.”

“Clan Head. I heard you mention it earlier, but did you say you would melt dark iron into it?” the Supreme Flame Dragon asked, looking a little startled.

It was an exceedingly precious mineral. Some said it was metal taken from a comet that had fallen to earth. If tempered according to a proper blending method as closely guarded as a secret manual, it was said to produce a mighty sword that would never break through the ages.

Dark iron was called a treasure despite weighing more than an equal volume of iron. For some martial artists, even that weight was a means of increasing sword force.

Even a trace amount was difficult to put a price on. All the more so if it had long borne spiritual nature in an illustrious clan renowned for its smithing.

Worked by a master artisan alongside a Northern Radiance steeped in spirit water, it might acquire some property worthy of the name divine sword.

Everyone present knew it.

“Enough of that. Teacher, leave the sword to us. We should discuss something else now.”

Tang Unhwang waved a hand, seemingly trying to ease Jung Yeonshin's sense of indebtedness. Carefully laying Northern Radiance in the stream flowing down the artificial mountain, he spoke again.

“There is something no less important than the divine sword. I know what you and the other Desolate Fortress masters suspect, Young Master. Thunderclap Bombs.”

“...”

“The Beggar Heir of the Beggars' Sect already gave me a hint. He said he had come to the cliffs of the City of Master Artisans to convey that information. Apparently, several Blood Master Swordsmen he had watched for a long time had been coming and going from our clan. He said they were all bald.”

“The Blood Flame Cult...!”

As Heon Wonchang groaned, Jung Yeonshin spoke.

“Our Elder Council Leader also vanished while pursuing an Apostle. I hope to find even the smallest clue.”

“But uncovering the culprit will be exceedingly difficult. If someone has been colluding with the Blood Flame Cult, of all organizations... they cannot be an ordinary figure within our clan. Secrets are not easily kept in the Tang Clan's ancient stronghold.”

Tang Unhwang's mouth looked strained. The clan head himself was speaking of a possible disgrace to his house.

The boy thought that the Hwangbo and Namgoong clans he had encountered would have slaughtered the Desolate Fortress masters before them to silence the witnesses.

The Tang clan head before him was different.

'He does not have the air of a pure sanctuary like the Nine Great Sects, but he has honor. A great hero of the secular world.'

The conversation continued as Jung Yeonshin inwardly admired him. Yet the more they talked, the clearer the difficulty of the matter became. At last, the Supreme Flame Dragon sighed with a bored expression.

“Of course an old serpent who's spent years in the Tang Clan would be hard to find. He'll be a terrifying viper. In cunning and in poison arts alike.”

Heon Wonchang looked incredulous, but the Tang clan head actually agreed.

“Young Brother Hwangbo is right. Most of our elderly kin are devious and deeply calculating. They may be hiding behind the curtain, laughing at those searching for them.”

“But why would anyone in our clan collude with an evil cult...? I simply cannot...”

Tang Ryeoryeo's delicate brows drew together. She had looked troubled throughout the conversation.

Poison Dragon Tang Yeohwa was no different. With gifts that inspired awe in everyone, they had mastered the Tang Clan's martial arts. Their lives had been short, but they had never known want. With the Tang Clan far from weak, it was all the harder to understand.

Tang Unhwang smiled at his daughter.

“I know your martial talents have blossomed with astonishing brilliance. But it has been far too long since our clan last saw Blossoms Raining Across the Sky. Perhaps someone sought an alternative. They may have coveted a Blood Art formula that would let them build strength separately from the Origin-Reversing Three Yang Art, or joined hands to investigate something else...”

“It might be both,” Namgoong Hwashin interjected.

But this discussion would yield no answer. Like the affair sinking deeper into a mire, their first day at the Tang Clan drew to a close.

* * *

“That young talent of yours is truly astonishing. Desolate Fortress enjoys far too much good fortune.”

“The White Qilin...? Or you mean Lightning Genius.”

It was a cavern deep underground. Aged voices echoed in the darkness.

“Both are here. The whelp called Lightning Genius has had his edge polished first. He was Black, no less.”

“Heh, heh heh...”

An old man's laughter emerged in broken bursts.

“Black... I saw him in the selection contest, before the match with Namgoong. I thought him overflowing with talent... but he truly was coming into full bloom... Astonishing. Astonishing.”

“He fulfilled my lifelong wish on his very first visit to Sichuan. I cried out to heaven, and heaven did not hear. All my life, I beseeched it for inspiration for Blossoms Raining Across the Sky, yet my worthless son was the one who received my dearest wish. That young Lightning Genius of yours... is exceedingly dangerous. He was born with the martial talent to bring supreme divine arts down into the realm of mere skill.”

Those words lent robust strength to the feeble voice. The voice that had struggled merely to answer became remarkably clear.

“That, too, is astonishing. All the more reason I do not wish to hold him back. You—why are you keeping this old body alive?”

“Because it is still insufficient. Something is strange about my grandchildren's bodies. I have clearly reproduced a considerable portion of Lightning Genius's anatomical diagram, yet the results are unsatisfactory. My grandchildren cannot wield talent as that boy does. And I have examined every inch of your body with the core energies of the Blood Art and Three Yang Art.”

A booming laugh broke out at once.

“You do not understand the word genius. His martial talent was literally bestowed by heaven. How dare a human attempt to encroach upon it through acquired means? Your struggles are futile. Know your lot and be content.”

“Prattle as you please, Elder Council Leader of Desolate Fortress.”

* * *

The next day, Jung Yeonshin was invited to a banquet hosted by the retired head of the Sichuan Tang Clan.

He had expected it. The conflict between the current and retired clan heads was not over. This was a martial clan where blood and power changed hands. The retired patriarch, who had held absolute authority, would not relinquish his influence easily.

The banquet hall was splendid, its interior rivaling a sizable training ground. The scent of grass drifted through the windows along with the noisy cries of summer cicadas.

The aged-wood tables, arranged in a hollow square, had an antique elegance of their own. Ten people sat along each row.

With dancers performing in the center and musicians playing zithers to enliven the mood, the banquet was already in full swing beneath the glow of red lanterns. Guests raised cups or helped themselves to delicacies, exchanging greetings and discussing martial arts.

Some were debating the state of Sichuan.

“I hear the youngsters of the evil and unorthodox paths held a gathering in Shunqing Prefecture. Truly, these are the end times. Unorthodox scum strutting about in broad daylight, calling themselves promising young talents.”

“There is also word that the Qingcheng Sect Leader has passed away. They say a peerless swordsman killed him.”

“The Red Cloud Sword Venerable? What utter nonsense... Far more credible and interesting is the rumor that the Diancang Sect's Young Sword Empress has ventured into the world with disciples of Emei and Qingcheng. Our Twin Poisons of Dragon and Phoenix ought to put them in their place at least once.”

Jung Yeonshin had already accepted several cups of wine. Every person offering one belonged to the retired patriarch's faction. Having learned how to entertain through sword debates in Xuzhou, he needed only to engage them moderately to bring smiles to their faces.

Then it happened.

“Even beating around the bush grows tiresome. Now, then.”

It was the retired patriarch, seated beside Jung Yeonshin. He wore the same golden robe as when they had first met. His eyes were half-lidded as he regarded the boy sidelong.

Had he deliberately refrained from expelling the alcohol and allowed himself to become drunk? Or was he merely feigning a clouded gaze?

[“He'll be a terrifying viper.”]

The Supreme Flame Dragon's words flashed through his mind.

“Now, Lightning Genius. What has you so deep in thought? You look troubled. Yet you are a young talent with the whole world in your grasp.”

“...”

“Is that not so, black-robed expert of Desolate Fortress?”

The retired patriarch asked quietly. Something like an abyss seemed to linger in his aged breath.

At some point, silence had settled over the hall. The masters' fiercely gleaming eyes were focused entirely on Jung Yeonshin.

“I was merely...”

The boy spoke calmly.

“Wondering what you wanted. Did you not just mention beating around the bush?”

“Ah... yes. Quite understandable.”

The corners of the retired patriarch's mouth lifted. There was a faint madness in his smile, the movement almost splitting his face.

“I invited you because I was curious. That day, did you not pass the skill of Blossoms Raining Across the Sky to my son? It took a form I found truly baffling. You merely held his hand and released it, so how did our clan head come to command the petals? As a martial artist, I felt I ought not ask, yet it is also because I am a martial artist that my curiosity became unbearable.”

The hall was filled with masters loyal to him, seated to either side and before them. In such a setting, even words that were not demands became pressure. The retired patriarch asked quietly,

“Could you tell this old martial artist? Quite apart from Blossoms Raining Across the Sky, which has already returned to our clan's embrace, I am deeply curious about your martial skill. Is that too shameless a request?”

“... No. It is not difficult.”

Jung Yeonshin slowly parted his lips.

“It is a request from the most venerable person in the house whose hospitality I enjoy. Surely no one in the Tang Clan stands higher than you, Retired Patriarch?”

“Not at all, not at all. The young people supporting our house are the truly exalted ones.”

The retired patriarch demurred with a slight shake of his head, a smile on his lips. Small cheers rose from the masters in the banquet hall.

“Then.”

Jung Yeonshin extended his hand to the retired patriarch. At the same time, he activated the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art.

The retired head of the Sichuan Tang Clan was unlike the Thirteen Skies warriors who had witnessed him slay the Saber-Fist Demon at close range.

The Dharma power of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art was not ostentatious enough to observe from afar. He had built the framework of its divine-technique formula from passages of the Diamond Sutra and Discourses on Vegetable Roots. Within his body it was weighty; outside, it was subtle.

The properties of a divine technique practiced by a major faction's master were exceedingly valuable intelligence.

Every Thirteen Skies master who had detected the Radiant Wheel Art's Dharma power was dead. Only the Ten Perfections Sect was likely to have learned of it through Halberd-Surpassing Sword So Jinrang.

But Sichuan was vast, and there were limits to how quickly informants could travel. Yeonshin had even recovered all the valuables So Jinrang carried, including the wondrous treasure.

Apart from the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike, which had been known beforehand, the capabilities of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art remained top secret.

His hand moved smoothly forward. A wrinkled hand met a youthful one.

Even then, the boy thought to himself that surely it could not be the retired patriarch of an entire clan.

“Aaaaargh!”

A cry of agony burst from the retired patriarch's mouth.

“...?”

For once, Jung Yeonshin was flustered. Within his mind, Heon Wonchang and the Supreme Flame Dragon spoke in unison.

Was there another martial clan under heaven that was such an utter mess?

“You bastard!”

“Release his hand at once!”

Those seated on either side sprang up. Their reactions were extraordinarily quick, their attacks flashing into motion. Before anyone could see them reach inside their robes, the retired patriarch's warriors had weapons in hand.

They hurled them without a moment's consideration. Hidden weapons and silver threads came streaming from every direction like rays of light.

Jung Yeonshin extended his left hand. Waves of qi that drew in and expelled spread from the Palace of Toil and Lesser Mansion points in the center of his palm. With them came the rotating wave of force from the radiant wheel, which had begun spinning in an instant.

As cups, plates, and other furnishings flew into the air and shook the room, the formula of a supreme divine art stirred with a genius's pulse.

'Blossoms Raining Across the Sky.'

WHOOSH!

The incoming hidden weapons halted for a moment, then whirled as though to scour the entire room clean.

In an instant, their master changed. Along with a storm that battered the air, every streak of light flew straight back.