A little later, the curtain of qi surrounding Ma Yeonjeok's carriage vanished. The Desolate Fortress Master emerged with an inscrutable expression, then entered the Elder Council Leader's carriage.

Two of the Desolate Fortress's three peerless purple-robed masters were traveling bedridden. This was a matter of grave importance to the entire institution. As its leader, she was examining her injured people herself.

“This must weigh heavily on the fortress master.”

“That's hardly something we can presume to understand.”

Even Jung Yeonshin's seniors seemed to find it unusual to witness the affairs of the fortress's highest ranks at such close quarters. Whenever the fortress master appeared, they fell silent as though frozen. The moment she entered the Elder Council Leader's four-horse carriage, they all began talking again.

“Those two will have to devote themselves to recuperation now.”

“They should. Who knows what fraction of the fortress's fighting strength we've lost?”

“Imagine two masters on par with sect leaders of the Nine Great Sects washing their hands in golden basins. No, I can't even picture it.”

They were speaking of Ma Yeonjeok and the Elder Council Leader. Washing one's hands in a golden basin meant retiring from Murim.

Jung Yeonshin looked over the seniors scattered casually around him. Some fifteen blue-robed experts were discussing the fortress's future with somber faces. Their tones were far from cheerful.

Purple robes.

That color was practically a symbol of the Desolate Fortress. It was also a deterrent that kept the outlaws of the martial world from running rampant.

“How much trouble will those jackals stir up now?”

“There'll be more than a few local sects openly picking fights with us.”

“I've heard we've already lost contact with the Xinjiang branch. They say that heir to the Ming Cult who's mastered spell-based martial arts is incredibly strong. An unprecedented genius in the realm of spellcraft, apparently.”

“We need to do something about the Martial Alliance first. I hear the noble clans are its backbone, not the Nine Great Sects. It's bound to be rotten before it even opens.”

“Um, the Diancang Sect's experts are right over there...”

Heon Wonchang spoke cautiously, pointing out that this was hardly the place to discuss the fortress's most important affairs. The three Diancang experts, who had been gathered together, looked up one after another at the mention of their sect.

The Young Sword Empress smiled at Jung Yeonshin, looking rather absentminded. Was it because she had seen him remain unfazed by the Pure Demon Alliance Leader's qi waves? Diancang's foremost swordswoman of the younger generation no longer concealed her fondness for the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius. She spoke.

“We really do know how to keep our mouths shut. We're not particularly close to the noble clans, either. The one I'd like to befriend is you, Young Master Jung, looking so dashing in that black robe.”

The boy ignored her. He knew thoughtful people such as Zhongnan's wiji myohwa and Mount Hua's Yoo Hyun. The Young Sword Empress did not seem ill-natured, but neither did she seem worth going out of his way to befriend when his time was already so short.

“It's all right. We've reached Xiangyang safely.”

Oh Wolhyang, the middle-aged blue-robed expert, shook her head. A faint smile lingered on the lips of the woman who regarded Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang as sons. With her remaining hand, she smoothed the empty sleeve over the left arm she had lost at the City of Master Artisans, just as Ma Jin had, and continued.

“We can hardly conceal what's happened to our two purple-robed masters anymore. How many warriors were there from the Blood Flame Cult, the Ten Perfections Sect, and the Tang Clan? And how many more people belong to their households? Our Lightning Genius brought the Diancang warriors along to delay the rumors from spreading. To get us home safely. Isn't that right?”

She asked with a gentle smile, tipping her chin toward where Jung Yeonshin sat. Leaning against a tree much as the Desolate Fortress Master did, the boy silently nodded. Oh Wolhyang's smile deepened.

“You've handled yourself admirably as acting captain. We owe you our gratitude. Thank you for guiding us safely to Xiangyang, until the fortress master could reach us. You've done wonderfully.”

“...”

“Once you're officially a black robe, I won't be able to speak so freely to you, so I'm thanking you now.”

Her words were filled with genuine warmth. The seniors beside her nodded, then began lavishing him with embarrassingly effusive praise. The fortress's next black robe had extraordinary potential; they had been watching him since he first joined the Radiant Demon Squad; he had been rather frightening when he provoked the Pure Demon Alliance Leader.

“I'm looking forward to your Black-rank promotion. That's one of the rare occasions when the fortress holds a really grand event.”

Chung Myung spoke from his casual perch on a branch, his headcloth loosened. Reclining leisurely among the sunlit leaves, he hardly looked like an injured man. The noble-race swordsman who had guided the boy in his white-robed days wore his usual dazzling smile. It was his own way of showing his pride.

Debts and grudges formed even among the fortress's warriors. This was a moment for acknowledging a debt of kindness and wishing to repay it.

The Desolate Fortress experts who had seemed so far above him when he was the third young master of the Jeong Clan Estate were now placing the boy above themselves. It was something he could feel, even if he could not see it.

This was separate from the warriors of the Lightning Genius lineage, whose future assignments remained uncertain. The Radiant Demon Squad's seniors had begun preparing themselves to accept a new captain. That mattered more than anything.

“All this warmth is making me blush.”

The Supreme Flame Dragon muttered, glancing at the very young acting captain's expressionless face. For a moment, Jung Yeonshin sensed a certain envy in his voice, but did not press him. He knew that same feeling himself.

Sometimes the boy, too, pictured himself reaching the end of the life heaven had allotted him and dying alone, with no one around to mourn him.

Jung Yeonshin suppressed that familiar feeling and looked around. Before him lay the sight of what he had truly accomplished over all this time.

A broad clearing in the forest outside Xiangyang. Experts of the fortress standing on high branches with their arms folded, or finding places to sit at ease.

“...”

The brief silence was not awkward. Bright summer sunshine filled the surrounding leaves with vivid green. As though a renowned painter had composed a landscape, a circling breeze swept past, drawing together these masters who were neither wandering martial artists nor government soldiers.

A new Black Captain had been born before they even returned. Without anyone at the fortress knowing, before anything else could happen.

* * *

They arrived in Nanzhang, at the approach to Xiangyang. It was a lively city, brought great prosperity by its noble-race magistrate and prefect. Well-maintained ocher roads stretched in every direction, and the clamor of trade and hawkers' calls echoed along the walls of its fairly tidy buildings.

They had none other than the fortress master traveling with them. Yet the government offices had little room for guests, as befitted a place renowned for its honest officials. This tendency grew more pronounced the nearer one came to the Desolate Fortress itself, so Jung Yeonshin enlisted Hong Joogeom of the Wing-Returning Unit.

The middle-aged blue-robed expert served as something of a representative of the Lightning Genius lineage. He was adept at dealing with people.

Dragon Splendor Inn.

They rented an entire five-story building, the sort that might stand on a local magnate's estate, to accommodate the elderly purple-robed masters and the fortress master.

They would reach the fortress tomorrow. For the first time in a while, the injured members of the Radiant Demon Squad and Wing-Returning Unit could also lie down in comfortable beds.

“They say they're warriors descended from heaven. A celestial maiden and divine generals are staying here.”

It was noisy outside. Dozens of people had gathered near the entrance.

“I heard they're from the Desolate Fortress. Someone saw the character for ‘desolate’ on their robes.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

The party would have drawn attention anyway, starting with the Young Sword Empress, who was desperate for a chance to speak with the Desolate Fortress Master. Beyond her fame as a master qualified to discuss swordsmanship with Zhongnan's Sword Dragon, she possessed exceptional beauty.

The same was true of Jung Yeonshin, the Supreme Flame Dragon, Namgoong Hwashin, and even Heon Wonchang. They had the sort of appearance best described as imposing, and drew people's gazes. Had Chung Myung not gone back into a carriage, they would have attracted even more attention.

“A heavenly maiden has descended?”

“Watch your tongue. She's the manifestation of the supreme Jade Emperor.”

“The guardian has ventured out into the world. The Desolate Fortress Master herself.”

Peerless beauty drew eyes as surely as the supreme moves of an advanced martial art. Combined with unique status and power, it became a rare spectacle. People simply did not dare make a greater commotion.

Meanwhile, Jung Yeonshin stood facing the Desolate Fortress Master in the clearing between the rear of the inn's main building and its annex.

“You may relax your body and mind. Think of it as lifting yourself out of this tumultuous world for a moment.”

Her clear voice reached him like a gentle breeze, seeming to softly enfold his keen senses. He had been using the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art's energy detection to scan the bodies of those gathered in front of the inn. Her words softened his bearing a little.

'There doesn't seem to be anyone suspicious.'

So Jung Yeonshin thought.

Vigilance had become second nature to him, honed naturally through his encounters with so many supreme masters on the journey to Sichuan. He was always like a drawn sword.

“You will not relax easily.”

The Desolate Fortress Master, who had been quietly watching him, gave a slight shake of her head. The long hair falling along her elegant jaw swayed green.

“It is difficult, with your disposition.”

“Forgive me.”

“It is all right.”

The corners of her lips lifted slightly.

“It is because your goal is so distant. Yours is a nature that should grow gentler as your mastery deepens, so today's lesson will be of some help.”

There were moments when meeting the Desolate Fortress Master alone left him strangely dazed. This was one of them. Her dark-green eyes were overwhelming, making him feel half stripped bare.

She was an immortal, peerless master said to see into people's hearts. Quite apart from her martial attainment, she seemed clothed in a transcendence befitting the supreme being of her people.

Jung Yeonshin spun the radiant wheel in his heart. The wheel of light turned within him, circulating his internal power throughout his body. The Dharma power of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art seeped into his heart and head, and he barely managed to bring his eyes back into focus.

After regaining his composure with two inhalations as he faced her, he noticed that the corners of her lips had lifted a fraction further.

'I hope I didn't make a spectacle of myself.'

As Jung Yeonshin worried needlessly, the Desolate Fortress Master spoke.

“At the Jeong Clan Estate, you polished the vessel. In Sichuan, you breathed through a divine technique. You have begun to fill it with water.”

“Your advice was a great help, Fortress Master.”

The boy recalled the note the chief administrator had given him just before he departed on his mission. The Desolate Fortress Master's handwriting was still etched clearly in his mind.

She gave a small smile.

“Now you must learn to govern that breath. Are you prepared to receive a new sword art?”

“Will you be teaching me the sword of the heart?”

Jung Yeonshin answered her question with one of his own.

After a brief silence, she spoke.

“I know what you were thinking. You must have imagined killing with a mere thought.”

An absolute art that formed a sword with the mind and cut down one's opponent. A realm of legend, existing only in rumor.

“Then...?”

“What I intend to teach you is different. It would be more accurate to call it a sword art that toys with the senses. It is not an art that cuts the mind. I created it recently, so you will be its first inheritor.”

“Toys with the senses...”

Jung Yeonshin quietly repeated the words.

Her jade-green eyes gazed steadily at the boy. Her expression remained as unchanging as ever. She seemed merely to be asking whether he was disappointed. But Jung Yeonshin was not.

He had seen the strike that brought down the Pure Demon Alliance Leader's Soaring Through the Void. It had been a peerless sword move.

“What is its secret? I felt nothing at the time.”

The boy asked boldly. The Desolate Fortress Master slowly nodded.

“It is a feint. A method of engraving a sword strike upon your enemy's mental image. With tremendous intensity.”

“How?”

“You need only act as the complete master of your qi waves and the wind of your sword.”

This was a lesson from the Desolate Fortress Master. It did not end with words that were difficult to understand.

“Come here.”

Her lips moved softly.

They were already only two steps apart. The boy hesitated for a moment.

SCUFF

The pale-green silk shoe covering the Desolate Fortress Master's foot brushed the ground. The peerless master spoken of as a contender for the greatest under heaven in the vast martial world drew closer.

His second lesson had begun.