To an uninformed onlooker, she would have seemed to have frightened herself. Her expression was that peculiar.

The Young Sword Empress no longer looked like a renowned swordswoman of the martial world. She looked like one of the common folk scurrying past on the roadside or standing frozen in place.

'It isn't so much that she's lost her confidence...’

Something seemed to have startled her deeply. Jung Yeonshin could hardly tell what.

"Are you saying you'll come willingly?"

The boy had returned to polite speech.

The Supreme Flame Dragon clicked his tongue, still holding the Young Sword Empress's junior brother, the Sun-Piercing Sword Sa Doryeong, by the scruff of his neck.

He whispered impishly into Sa Doryeong's ear that it was hard to imagine such mercurial behavior suiting anyone so well.

With his paralysis point sealed, Sa Doryeong could only stare wide-eyed at his senior sister.

His gaze alone conveyed his feelings. He looked as though he were witnessing something all but impossible.

"Yes... Well, after basking in your sword domain, Young Master, my own rashness has become as vivid to me as a flower in full bloom."

She smiled brightly, as though she had never broken into a cold sweat.

"Why not treat it as a chance to broaden my horizons? Surprisingly few martial artists of the Nine Great Sects have ever entered the Desolate Fortress."

"I won't tolerate any rash behavior," Jung Yeonshin said evenly.

The Young Sword Empress's eyes curved into narrow smiling crescents.

"There's still plenty of time before the Alliance's founding ceremony. Traveling the martial world with the masters of your order doesn't strike me as an entirely bad prospect."

The way she looked at the boy had changed. She was no longer treating him as a gate to pass through before gaining an audience with the purple robes.

Her eyes examined him from head to toe with meticulous attention. It felt less like probing than a passion for martial learning.

Even as she volunteered to become a prisoner, she revealed her nature as a swordswoman.

Then she gave a small sigh.

"If only my juniors weren't here."

Having achieved a measure of rapport through their exchange of qi waves, Jung Yeonshin immediately understood what she meant.

Had the Sun-Piercing Sword and the Dancing Sword of Diancang not been subdued, she would have tried taking his sword.

'She's completely different from the Sword Dragon.'

She said unsettling things so lightly. Her values were firmly her own. Regardless of the disadvantage she had faced, her desire to experience sword arts seemed tremendous.

With Namgoong Hwashin's Desolate Sword still beneath her chin, the Dancing Sword of Diancang looked close to tears.

"Senior Sister..." The address marked her as an elder sister in their shared sect.

The previously stalwart-looking woman now wore a pitiful expression. But Namgoong Hwashin's white blade remained as motionless as a stone statue.

The fortitude of a Desolate Fortress warrior now colored his former bearing as a courteous man of chivalry.

The events in the City of Master Artisans had changed more than Jung Yeonshin alone.

The White Qilin's resolve was growing firmer.

The death of the half brother he had followed so devotedly, the vengeance against his sister he had been unable to finish with his own hands, and the deaths of his fellow fortress warriors he had witnessed in the City of Master Artisans.

He was growing alongside Jung Yeonshin, the comrade with whom he had crossed swords, learning firsthand the harsh ways of Murim, where it was difficult to protect anything without a stern hand.

"That's enough," Jung Yeonshin said.

At the command, Namgoong Hwashin withdrew his blade. With a clear ring of sword resonance, the Desolate Sword traced a graceful arc back into its sheath.

The single fluid motion of sheathing it attested to his attainment in sword arts.

The Supreme Flame Dragon tapped the back of Sa Doryeong's neck, releasing his sealed pressure point.

"You...!"

In an almost convulsive motion, Sa Doryeong seized his sword hilt again.

But he could not draw it.

He had met the Supreme Flame Dragon's blank eyes. They were nothing like the eyes of the man who traded jokes with Jung Yeonshin.

The dry flame born of a short-lived existence burned in his heart as well. It revealed itself in the colorless light within his eyes.

"I have many fond memories of the Nine Great Sects. I hope you won't disgrace the name of your great mountain sect."

His words came with the Blazing Yang Core Energy of the Solar Divine Meridians. A hot, overwhelming presence bore down on Sa Doryeong.

The Supreme Flame Dragon continued slowly.

"Are there any martial lineages in today's world besides yours that deserve to be called orthodox? As far as I know, only the Nine Great Sects do. We live in a world where fairness and integrity can only be found on sacred religious mountains. Buddhist or Daoist."

His languid tone carried the dignity befitting the young heir of a great regional noble clan. Sa Doryeong's expression wavered.

At last, he slowly removed his hand from his sword hilt, lowering his head as he did.

"That's right. Quite docile, aren't you?"

The Supreme Flame Dragon stepped back with those teasing words. Heon Wonchang welcomed him from beside him.

"Quite a silver tongue for an unranked disciple. You'll make a useful junior."

"..."

Meanwhile, Jung Yeonshin watched the Young Sword Empress speaking with the Dancing Sword of Diancang.

"You made the right choice, Senior Sister. I weighed fortune against misfortune, but clashing with the Desolate Fortress here could only have brought us misfortune."

The Dancing Sword of Diancang's clear, steady eyes reflected her disposition.

Fingering her sword hilt, the Young Sword Empress answered distractedly.

"Oh, really?"

"As disciples of the orthodox righteous path, we cannot fight without just cause. It would disgrace our sect."

"Uh... That's right."

"The Sect Leader would have thundered at us. Even if heaven favored us with victory, what came afterward would have been a problem... And losing in full view of everyone would have been the utmost humiliation. Frankly, I believe you would have lost. Just looking at that man's black robe, it's easy to see that the rumors about Lightning Genius are no exaggeration."

The Dancing Sword of Diancang happened to meet Jung Yeonshin's eyes and hastily looked away, as though faced with an unsettling Thunderclap Bomb.

"Surely it's better to appear to be accompanying them than to be dragged along? You brought this upon yourself, Senior Sister. I urged you so many times to restrain your curiosity."

"Sorry, sorry."

"The Desolate Fortress treats the Nine Great Sects relatively gently. We should take this opportunity to stay in Xiangyang for a while, then attend the Alliance's founding ceremony. At any rate, I'm glad you finally chose the best course."

"Hmm...? Right? Yes, exactly."

The Young Sword Empress turned toward Jung Yeonshin with a sheepish smile.

Their eyes met, and the boy nodded slightly.

There was a reason he had waited for them.

Having Diancang's foremost disciple and her companions join them offered an opportunity.

Traveling the martial world with people to protect and a force the size of a single Desolate Fortress combat unit was bound to be different from traveling with important figures from the Nine Great Sects among them.

It could bring a profound change to their situation, in which they needed to avoid conflict altogether.

'A change very much for the better.'

As it happened, he had not exchanged a single sword strike with the Young Sword Empress. They were traveling companions. Diancang's next sect leader, famed for her sword arts, was lending her assistance.

It would be no exaggeration to say they had the Diancang Sect behind them. The journey could only become smoother.

He considered it a good outcome.

Compared with the vast world, the Desolate Fortress was small.

To deter ignorant provincial noble clans and small or midsized sects, the names of the Nine Great Sects, rooted throughout the Central Plains, were more effective.

That was true outside Huguang, where the Desolate Fortress was established. The lofty prestige of the Nine Great Sects was certainly worth exploiting.

"Um... Where should I stand?"

The Young Sword Empress approached with hesitant steps, oddly conscious of his mood.

Her repeated glances at the sword hilt at Jung Yeonshin's waist made her interests clear.

Swords and martial arts.

Her wish to meet the purple-robed masters had likely sprung from the same source.

The boy answered briefly.

"I'll need you to lead the way."

"... Couldn't I walk beside you? Your grip looked rather unusual."

The remark came out of nowhere. She seemed to be referring to the opening stance of his Radiant Sword Art.

The boy shook his head. It was not worth considering.

"Please take the lead."

"I'm curious about your sword arts, Young Master. I'd like to get to know you. Couldn't we become friends?"

Her tone had become entirely relaxed. Jung Yeonshin did not answer. There was no need to indulge the Young Sword Empress's peculiar temperament.

He gave the carriage drivers a silent nod, signaling that their long journey should resume.

"Hyah!"

The procession of four-horse carriages began moving once more.

The crowd that had been watching from a distance started and drew back.

The clatter of hooves drowned out all other concerns.

"Ah, I've never found anyone my own age this interesting."

As the Young Sword Empress lingered, the Dancing Sword of Diancang hustled her onward. Burdened with such headstrong fellow disciples, her voice dissolved into a sigh. "Senior Sister, please."

And so the Diancang party joined their journey.

It was a decision made on the spur of the moment, but it soon produced astonishing results.

Seven days and nights.

That was how long Jung Yeonshin's procession went undisturbed.

* * *

"Xiangyang already."

Heon Wonchang murmured as he walked beside Jung Yeonshin.

A hot breeze brushed the hero's headband tied about the brow of the great hero of Desolate Fortress.

Hoofbeats filled the silence of the secluded mountain road.

Their progress was leisurely and untroubled.

'Very effective.'

Jung Yeonshin thought as he watched the backs of the Diancang disciples walking ahead.

He had originally expected some measure of pursuit.

In the provincial martial world, the Desolate Fortress was not an all-powerful organization. There were two sorts of sects that might oppose them.

Small and midsized sects that believed their own little world was all there was, and great factions that kept abreast of worldly affairs. In effect, that meant everyone.

The world was vast, vast enough to deserve the word boundless.

Ignorant little sects might attack in pursuit of fame. Great factions could weigh the timing and circumstances before contemplating murder to silence every witness.

"... Nothing's happening. It's getting downright boring."

The Supreme Flame Dragon lay atop a four-horse carriage with his hands behind his head.

Such was the power of Diancang's name, one of the Nine Great Sects, whose prestige stretched from Yunnan to the far reaches of Sichuan.

It rivaled that of the great noble clans whose magnates privately spoke of themselves as royalty.

The Young Sword Empress of Diancang was, in effect, comparable to the heir of a commandery prince.

Hers was an exceedingly exalted position. All the more so now, with the Thirteen Skies and the evil and unorthodox factions in Sichuan all but annihilated.

Long hair swayed some distance ahead.

"Young Master Jung...! There's no one around, so perhaps a sparring match... Never mind."

The Young Sword Empress had turned to speak with a gentle yet awkward expression, only to turn away again.

After holding back for so long, she had finally blurted it out, then suddenly remembered that Jung Yeonshin's maternal grandfather lay in one of the four-horse carriages.

She seemed intensely interested in the Radiant Sword Art he had briefly revealed during their contest of sword domains.

Martial etiquette prevented her from openly asking about the origins of his swordsmanship. Instead, her desire to cross blades with him seemed to billow like a cloud.

"..."

Jung Yeonshin gave no answer.

He felt none of what the Sword Dragon wiji myohwa or the Blue Qilin Namgoong Sejin had inspired in him.

The Young Sword Empress might be renowned for chivalry, but to the boy, she remained a thoroughly strange person.

He treated her only as a highly effective tool.

'Which she is.'

He was thinking this calmly when a voice rang out.

"There you are. My sister, Miryeo."

Ahead and to the left, beside the broad, well-cleared mountain road, stood someone who had appeared like a mirage from the great desert said to lie beyond the Great Wall.

A person of the Western Regions, like the demonic practitioners of the Pure Demon Alliance.

Her hair was black like that of the Central Plains rather than their characteristic gold, but her eyes were a vivid blue.

Her slanted stance seemed rather raffish. She did not give the impression of a sect leader.

Yet the instant Jung Yeonshin saw her, he set his radiant wheel turning.

Disaster had arrived without warning. Her presence resembled the demonic core energy of his senior Baek Miryeo, but felt far denser and more profound.

He immediately guessed her identity.

'The Pure Demon Alliance Leader.'

Had she sensed the boy's gaze? The Pure Demon Alliance Leader smiled and stepped out through the undergrowth.

With sharp eyes and a slender jaw, her face bore many resemblances to Baek Miryeo's.

"So you're the one who tore my alliance's children to pieces. Your martial fame seems poised to pierce the lofty skies of Sichuan."

The force of her presence against his skin was astonishing.

WHOOOOSH!

A colorless gale swept over them. It approached with pressure that seemed almost tangible.

Her demonic core energy seemed capable of suppressing even the Dharma power of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art. It was hard to believe anyone could cultivate demonic arts to such depths.

"Try taking a move from me."

With a smile, the peerless master, who might well rival the Blood Flame Cult Leader, unveiled her presence.

"Ghk."

"The Pure Demon... Alliance Leader...!"

Groans rose from the Diancang disciples ahead and some of the Desolate Fortress warriors. What manner of footwork was this?

She had merely stood before them, yet he sensed people dropping to their knees at scattered points behind him, as though in audience with a sovereign.

'I did send a report, but surely...’

The boy was not looking at the Pure Demon Alliance Leader. With a rare look of surprise, he stared beyond her shoulder.

When had she appeared? Had she come to check the condition of Ma Yeonjeok, whom she had called her friend?

Had she been targeting the Pure Demon Alliance Leader from the outset, only now reaching the moment when she had to act...? Into his sight came a being whose name alone dispelled all such scattered questions.

Suddenly. Yet unlike any calamity, at precisely the right moment.

She stood there in elegant grace.

First to catch his eye was a beauty that could topple kingdoms, an emblem of immortality.

Even in the shade of the arborvitae, her long, pale-green hair stood out clearly.

Her deep-green eyes, holding an abyss within them, seemed to silence the entire forest-clad mountain.

"An astonishingly well-tempered body. Your presence, too, is enough to have dealt with my alliance's Saber-Fist Demon."

Behind the smiling Pure Demon Alliance Leader as she spoke, the Desolate Fortress Master took a light step forward.

She held a divine sword lowered in her hand, sunlight gleaming brilliantly along it through gaps in the shade.