The Tang Clan's physicians had just examined Ma Yeonjeok's injuries. For them to assess his pulse properly, Jung Yeonshin had needed to reveal at least something of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art's effects. They could hardly judge his internal injuries and condition without knowing the circumstances.

["We shall treat this as the strictest secret."]

Before Clan Head Tang Unhwang, the physicians had staked their lives on an oath to keep their benefactor's martial arts confidential.

The boy had spoken of Dharma power, explaining that Ma Yeonjeok's blue flames were also a Dharma-powered martial art. Among the physicians struck speechless with astonishment was one man of broad learning.

The elderly physician spoke of resonance between core energies of the same kind. He cited joint attacks by masters and disciples who cultivated the same energy, and sword formations that amplified core energy. If powers as wondrous as Dharma power had resonated with one another, he said, a miracle that prolonged the life of a robust, peerless martial artist was conceivable.

He added that this was only conjecture. Cultivation of Dharma power was uncommon, making a thorough understanding difficult.

["Are you saying Dharma power affects a person's vitality?"]

["No. I mean resonance between core energies of the same kind."]

Once they learned the circumstances, the Tang physicians showed tremendous interest. But under the clan head's stern gaze, they had to bow and withdraw, with only instructions to prepare a nourishing medicinal decoction.

'It's enough that he's alive. But...'

Something else they had said mattered to Jung Yeonshin as well. He looked down at his maternal grandfather, sleeping soundly in bed. His wrinkled face had come to resemble that of an ordinary old villager.

They had said that if he concentrated on recuperating, he could regain a healthy body for his age, but cultivating martial arts again would be difficult. The pressure points throughout his body and his twelve primary meridians had weakened severely.

Even Jung Yeonshin could see this was no small problem. To temper a body in this condition with the Movement Art again, it would likely take a full ten years to recover his former physique.

He had tried to be satisfied simply that his grandfather had not perished together with the Blood Flame Cult Leader. Yet seeing him before his eyes, he could not. The boy gazed down at him for a long time.

Just then, the Supreme Flame Dragon, standing beside him, cleared his throat. Still lost in thought, Jung Yeonshin merely dipped his head and raised it again, signaling him to speak.

"Well, you know. That Martial Alliance founding ceremony."

"Founding ceremony?"

"You just glanced over it. The friendly sparring competition."

"Go on."

"There was a prize. They said they'd offer a Great Restoration Pill. There was a rumor that before the Sword Star was acclaimed as Alliance Leader, he earned one by doing the Shaolin abbot a favor. Anyway, isn't it the best thing for restoring someone's health? Though who knows if they'll really hand it over."

"... Thank you."

"I believe that's a first from our acting captain. What did you say?"

A faint, mocking smile curved the Supreme Flame Dragon's lips, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. He simply seemed to be treating the boy like an unsociable younger brother.

Jung Yeonshin told him once more to fetch lunch. After shifting his weight onto one leg for a moment, the Supreme Flame Dragon let out an exaggerated sigh and left.

The boy turned back to his grandfather. An old man sleeping soundly. It was difficult to find any trace of a peerless master's bearing.

'Still, he survived. Even after facing that Blood Flame Cult Leader.'

Beneath the weight in the boy's heart, relief soothed him. Whatever else had happened, the crisis had reached a resolution for now.

The Ten Perfections Sect had retreated after suffering a crippling blow, and the Blood Flame Cult had also sustained devastating losses. The Cult Leader's remains and the Pure Demon Alliance troubled him, but that was all.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader had failed to withstand the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art and the perfected Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike. The Pure Demon Alliance had lost many of its elite warriors at the City of Master Artisans and on Kuizhou's main avenue.

'The Tang Clan should be able to handle what's left.'

They had even regained Blossoms Raining Across the Sky. Now that the Tang Clan held supremacy over Sichuan Province, the boy's attention lay with his grandfather's recovery and the Elder Council Leader's whereabouts.

Jung Yeonshin intended to deploy the Wing-Returning Unit if the search proved difficult, regardless of Tang Unhwang's confident assurance that he could find the captive.

'We need to go back now.'

Ma Yeonjeok had briefly regained consciousness while the physicians examined his pulse and smiled at his grandson. Then he had mentioned the Desolate Fortress Master. He said he needed to see her soon and tell her something in person, but would not say what.

'A Great Restoration Pill... Could I receive a mission to attend the Martial Alliance's founding ceremony?'

The boy considered it. His Black Promotion Exam would probably come first. Such were the Desolate Fortress's laws. On this journey to Sichuan, Jung Yeonshin had amassed an astonishing number of great achievements—enough even without donating the Movement Art.

He closed his eyes for a while. Leaning back in his chair, he let sunlight like translucent ripples wash over him. He remained that way for quite some time. The summer air was warm.

"Here we are. Turning away servants who want to help is a task in itself."

The Supreme Flame Dragon had brought in an entire large table. Jung Yeonshin slowly opened his eyes.

"Let's eat. You need a full stomach to nurse someone."

They placed the table, laden with delicacies, beside the bed and sat opposite each other. They left Ma Yeonjeok's thin rice gruel untouched. The physician had said it would be better served cool.

Jung Yeonshin followed the physician's instructions to the letter. The Supreme Flame Dragon silently picked up his utensils without teasing the boy about that.

As the two were finishing their meal, a young man and woman called to Jung Yeonshin from outside the door.

"Benefactor."

"Benefactor...!"

It was the Poison Phoenix and Poison Dragon.

The twins approached with quick little steps, behaving almost like servants. The Poison Phoenix, Tang Ryeoryeo, carried a bundle of rolled papers. Once inside, she handed Jung Yeonshin a small letter. The writing on the envelope was impeccably respectful.

[For Teacher, the Lightning Genius, to Open Personally]

It was a message from Tang Unhwang. The Twin Poisons of Dragon and Phoenix had apparently come because the Tang Clan's stronghold was so vast. They had not even delegated the task to a servant. Their conduct testified to how deeply they honored Jung Yeonshin.

The boy carefully unfolded the letter and scanned it.

*'At last...'

* * *

The hastily written lines conveyed good news. Certain traces had been discovered on a peak at Sichuan's Jianmen Pass. It was news of the Desolate Fortress's Elder Council Leader. The boy slowly parted his lips.

"I'd like to send a mounted messenger to our fortress's Kuizhou branch. There's something I need the clan head's permission for, too."

"Please, tell us!"

Tang Yeohwa answered with shining eyes. Tang Ryeoryeo also inclined her head forward slightly.

"I'd like to bring the Radiant Demon Squad and the Wing-Returning Unit into the stronghold for a short while," Jung Yeonshin said.

He had made the decision in two capacities: as the man entrusted with Ma Jin's black martial robes, and as acting captain of the Wing-Returning Unit. It was a summons of sorts.

* * *

Seven days and nights passed within the Tang Clan's stronghold, whose grounds dwarfed most large estates.

"Aaaaaargh!"

The scream of Tang Taedok, the retired clan head, rang out. From far away, it pierced the air with shrill clarity. Jung Yeonshin paused briefly in the middle of packing.

He had been told they had administered Gut-Severing Poison, whose effects were exactly as its name suggested: agonizing pain as though the entrails were being torn apart.

The family laws of Sichuan's Tang Clan were strict. These were not merely the people who had shown the boy only gentleness until now. He had learned that the infamy underlying the Tang Clan's reputation arose from decisions as sharp as blades. Perhaps he should count himself fortunate not to have met them as enemies.

For colluding with a cult designated heretical by the imperial court, even a retired clan head could not escape severe punishment.

This had come after the Desolate Fortress's Elder Council Leader arrived, supported by Tang masters. Clan Head Tang Unhwang's actions followed chivalry and propriety, yet were decidedly ice-cold. With debts and grudges exchanged on both sides, he wished to conclude the affair without making an enemy of the Desolate Fortress. There was also the respect he owed his teacher, the Lightning Genius.

He had poisoned his own father, the clan's retired head. He had publicized the affair widely and carried out the punishment before the entire household. That scream was the result.

Jung Yeonshin decided not to concern himself with it. Preparing for the long journey was more urgent.

STEP.

He left the hall he had grown attached to over the past few days. His steps carried him unhesitatingly through the summer breeze, all the way to the broad entrance at the stronghold's main gate, where the fierce battle had taken place.

"Captain."

"Lightning Genius!"

The waiting Desolate Fortress warriors greeted him with clasped-fist salutes or waves. Their formation was unusual, arranged around a huge carriage at the center. This was the boy's doing. With Ma Jin, Chung Myung, and Baek Miryeo's help, he had organized the formation for their return journey.

Jung Yeonshin was in charge of the journey home. Ma Jin had temporarily transferred the authority of the Radiant Demon Squad captain to him. The boy's seniors had agreed without a word of dissent, citing his rapidly advancing prowess and his great contribution to resolving the City of Master Artisans affair.

To martial artists with energy detection, martial prowess and battlefield command were closely related. The range of one's awareness in every direction was also the radius within which one could think and act.

"You must be particularly wary of discharged martial force. If they are caught in a wave of force from core energy, there is no knowing how their minor channels and meridians might react. Please take exceptional care in guarding them."

The elderly physician stressed the warning repeatedly.

He stood beside the three enormous carriages at the center of the procession. They could scarcely be called carriages, with their sturdy, dark-brown construction and interiors large enough for five people to lie down comfortably. War wagons was a more fitting term, though they were luxuriously furnished with entire beds of the finest quality.

Ma Yeonjeok and the Elder Council Leader lay in one carriage each. The remaining vehicle held the Desolate Fortress masters who had difficulty moving. Radiant Demon Squad Captain Ma Jin and the blue-robed expert Oh Wolhyang, each missing a limb, along with Baek Miryeo and Chung Myung, who had suffered penetrating wounds, would be sitting comfortably within.

The vehicles were the work of the City of Master Artisans' iron race. Many of them would remain with the Tang Clan, while twenty had chosen to accompany Jung Yeonshin's party. It was an unusual decision for such insular Sichuan people: they had chosen the Desolate Fortress as their next home.

They said it was their clan's decision, made to repay the Radiant Demon Squad and the Wing-Returning Unit. Including the servants and physicians the Tang Clan had assigned them, nearly seventy people had gathered.

"Thank you for your kindness."

The boy offered the short elderly physician a clasped-fist salute. The old man waved his hands, insisting such thanks were unwarranted.

"This is nothing compared with what you have done for us, Benefactor. We owe Great Hero Ma and Council Leader So as well... I can only feel ashamed."

WHOOSH!

Suddenly, wind swept in from every direction, a gale raised by the Mobility Arts of dozens of Tang masters. Had the retired clan head's execution ended? Tang Unhwang landed at their head with a grave expression, accompanied by the Twin Poisons of Dragon and Phoenix.

Green sleeves rose to chest height amid the rustling of cloth. Raising their joined hands, the Tang masters offered formal greetings. They had come to see the party off.

Jung Yeonshin returned their salute without adding anything. They had already exchanged farewells once. There was nothing left to discuss.

"Benefactor, will you be coming to the Martial Alliance's founding ceremony?" Tang Ryeoryeo asked cautiously.

"I'm not sure."

"We're going. It would be nice if you came."

The Poison Dragon, Tang Yeohwa, murmured dejectedly.

With a faint smile, Jung Yeonshin stroked each twin's head in turn. The Poison Phoenix and Poison Dragon flushed slightly.

"May all go well for you, Clan Head."

"May fortune in battle favor you as well, Benefactor."

Tang Unhwang, who had just returned from killing his father, lifted the corners of his mouth slightly and bowed his head.

Under their gazes, Jung Yeonshin walked to the front. Northern Radiance hung at his waist, transformed into a divine sword. The blazing summer sunlight shimmered dazzlingly along its silver hilt.

"Move out."

The boy gave the order calmly, with Heon Wonchang, Namgoong Hwashin, the Supreme Flame Dragon, and Hong Joogeom behind him on either side. The company began moving, more lavishly equipped than most escort agencies' guarded caravans.

Four fine horses drew each of the three war wagons. The masters on guard formed three protective rings around the vehicles, iron race, servants, and physicians. Hoofbeats sounded at a measured pace.

They passed through the stronghold's main gate. The two elderly masters' poor condition prevented them from traveling at speed. Moving at about a brisk walking pace, the great company entered the broad imperial highway with Jung Yeonshin at its head.

"What's going on? That way leads to the Tang Clan's stronghold..."

"Look at their martial robes. They're Desolate Fortress warriors."

"Those carriages look unusual. Could he be inside one of them? The... Indomitable Hero..."

The highway ran straight through Chengdu, Sichuan's provincial capital. There were plenty of onlookers: merchant caravans and escort agency processions transporting goods, vendors calling for customers at their stalls, and inn attendants and wandering warriors stepping out of inns with a stretch. Every eye immediately turned toward them.

The boy walked silently with his hand on his sword hilt, ready to draw at the slightest suspicious sign.

At last, he had reached the final stretch of his mission as Wing-Returning Unit captain. Together with the Radiant Demon Squad, he was properly on the road home. The high sky stretched blue above him, but his heart could not share the scenery's serenity.

Word of the battles between Sichuan's great factions was spreading throughout the martial world. Ten Perfections Sect disciples had seen Ma Yeonjeok reduced to a mummy-like state.

'I have to stay alert.'

The Desolate Fortress had many enemies. He even had to account for reckless pests.

The Central Plains held all kinds of people, and many acted solely for their own gain. Common sense often failed to reach them. So did the discernment needed to compare their strength accurately with an opponent's.

There would be fools who charged in, hoping to break through the party's guards and do something to a purple-robed master.

'He said to be wary of core energy of a different kind.'

As the boy recalled the old Tang physician's words, a voice spoke.

"My greetings to the warriors of the Desolate Fortress."

The people whose unsettling presence he had sensed ahead to the left approached him. Their movements were exceedingly light. Jung Yeonshin was gauging the distance between them in one corner of his mind.

There were three, all young. Every one possessed an outstanding energy signature, but the swordswoman at their head stood out above the rest. She wore an ink-dark treasured sword.

Dressed in light vermilion silk attire, she let her jet-black hair fall to her waist. Though her presence was clearly restrained, it felt extraordinarily sharp.

"I am Chwi So-ok of the Diancang Sect."

Her clasped-fist salute was precise and disciplined.

Her appearance was utterly unlike her energy signature. Her large eyes drooped gently at the corners, giving her a kind look. She even seemed somewhat frail, but no one underestimated her.

The Diancang Sect was one of the Nine Great Sects, renowned as a sword sect. And when martial artists spoke of Diancang's Chwi So-ok, they openly called her someone with the potential to become a sovereign of the sword, even while remaining mindful of the imperial court.

"Young Sword Empress. It has been a long time."

Namgoong Hwashin, on Jung Yeonshin's left, greeted her. They appeared to know each other.

"I have heard much of the name you are making for yourself at the Desolate Fortress, Young Master Namgoong. It is a great pleasure to meet you again like this."

Chwi So-ok returned his greeting with a warm smile in her eyes.

Even then, Jung Yeonshin did not stop walking at the head of the procession. He had no room in his heart for this. Though he had begun the long journey at his grandfather's request, he needed to reach the Desolate Fortress as soon as possible so the old man could rest in safety.

Chwi So-ok's party therefore had to keep moving with them as they spoke. The man in blue martial robes beside her frowned slightly, but she spoke first.

"I have heard much of the Radiant Demon Squad's Lightning Genius as well. I would like to make your acquaintance, Young Master."

"What is your business? You seem to have another reason for coming."

He answered indifferently. Only Heon Wonchang, who had spent so long with him, noticed the unusual edge to the boy's demeanor.

Since arriving in Sichuan, the boy had endured several extreme ordeals. He had lost a number of seniors and watched his uncle's arm fall severed. Then there was his grandfather's mortal wound.

Heon Wonchang knew about Jung Yeonshin's constitution. How were the fear born of a shortened life and the events of Sichuan's Murim changing this young boy? He did not yet know.

'Just leave, you lot.'

Heon Wonchang adjusted the hero's headband covering his forehead. He only hoped nothing would happen.

Chwi So-ok spoke with a faint smile.

"I have long admired the Indomitable Hero's swordsmanship, so I ventured here to inquire after his health. As a junior of little learning, might I have the opportunity to pay my respects to the former Divine Sword Squad Leader?"

The Young Sword Empress and her companions were not warriors of his fortress. Was it because he had no reason to worry about his reputation with them? Or perhaps because anyone who knew the circumstances would understand?

The boy's true feelings slipped out before he could think.

"Fuck off."

"..."

The words brought silence. For a moment, only the flutter of Jung Yeonshin's long black robes could be heard. Unlike the frozen stillness, the wind of the Sichuan Basin kept moving without pause.

Then Heon Wonchang hurriedly interjected from beside him.

"Our captain says that the timing is most unfortunate, and that it would be best to wait for another opportunity."

A choking sound came from the roof of one of the war wagons. Lounging there, the Supreme Flame Dragon stopped chewing his poppy and burst out laughing.