A rising master had attained Black rank in the Radiant Demon Squad.

Word spread in an instant, along with the claim that he was barely past fifteen. It was an extraordinary event unlike anything anyone had heard of. Even in a martial world full of unfathomable mysteries, this was truly bizarre—his talent, his achievements, and his martial prowess alike.

Even the city center of Xiangyang Prefecture, which surrounded the fortress, was abuzz. Naturally so. A supreme master had emerged who stood on par with the heads of the Nine Great Sects’ combat units.

This was an event that would put not only all of Huguang Province but even the major sects throughout the Central Plains on alert. Such was the significance of a Desolate Fortress captain.

'Hmm.'

Jung Yeonshin felt keenly that the world around him had changed, through the hands delicately passing over his entire body. A middle-aged man dressed in indigo silk was examining the boy’s figure with the dexterity of someone who had mastered a hand technique.

“Please extend your arm this way.”

Despite his fierce face, his words and manners were deferential, as though he were attending a lord. Jung Yeonshin silently raised his right arm. At that small gesture, the man bent his knees slightly to take the measurement. Lightly holding either end of a woven silk cord, he laid it from the boy’s shoulder to his wrist.

His hands moved with exquisite care. Even at a glance, he was clearly taking his work seriously.

“You seem accustomed to this.”

The chief administrator spoke, the sides of his jet-black beard lifting slightly.

Jung Yeonshin did not answer. There was little he could say. He had come at Chief Administrator Im Jinmyeong’s summons. After having his astonishing achievements tallied in the Command Bureau’s main building, he had arrived at the annex to find himself in this situation.

The annex office, with its faint scent of natural wood, was different from usual. A tailor claiming to be from Xiangyang’s finest cloth shop had been waiting for him.

Ordinarily, a cloth merchant would only buy and sell fabric, but Xiangyang Prefecture had developed sophisticated trade networks and ways of living in many respects. It owed this to the vast Desolate Fortress established there. Even white-robed warriors received their pay in silver. The city could hardly help thriving.

“Come to think of it, Captain, you were born and raised in a great landowning family, were you not? That would explain...”

“I am only pretending to be composed,” Jung Yeonshin answered quietly.

The chief administrator’s casual mention of the Jeong Clan Estate did not offend him. If anything, it made the man more approachable. The head of the Command Bureau, seated to one side watching the boy, was an old hand at this. His cadence and manner of speaking put the young supreme master at ease—enough for the boy to voice a minor concern.

“Lately, I feel my self-discipline has grown shallow. It troubles me a little.”

The chief administrator smiled in his seat.

“That is only natural at your age, Captain Jung. It is the season when thoughts turn to spring. Even reasonable things can provoke resentment at that age, and how much worse must it be in Murim, full of haughty martial artists? After ambitious rising talents around twenty, it is youngsters of your age who most often die far from home.”

“Die far from home.”

As Jung Yeonshin repeated the words, the man continued.

“That has been this old fellow’s experience, at any rate...”

His smile deepened as he gazed at the boy.

“But that concern would be more fitting for other newcomers your age. Your martial arts are so formidable as to make your years irrelevant. And your standing is incomparably higher.”

“It is too early to call my martial arts formidable.”

The boy spoke with the other captains in mind. The chief administrator shook his head.

“The world inhabited by the Divine Sword Squad’s captain of the Radiant Demon Squad lies in the upper reaches of even this boundless Murim. You will not be seated among the young rising talents at the Martial Alliance gathering, either. That is enough. Surely you would not address the sect leaders of the Nine Great Sects or the Lords of the Thirteen Skies with arrogant disregard, Captain Jung?”

“...”

His words gave Jung Yeonshin something to think about. While he fell briefly silent, the middle-aged tailor stepped away from his side.

“All finished.”

“Making a garment from Thousand-year Silk normally takes a good month, but since your mission is urgent, I will try to reduce that to seven days and nights. It should be possible if I set all my other work aside.”

He was said to be a craftsman of a caliber rarely found in the world. Every black robe in the Desolate Fortress had been woven by his hands. He made blade-proof treasures that ordinary waves of force could not even scratch.

He might humble himself before the Desolate Fortress’s chief administrator and captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, but among the common people of Xiangyang Prefecture, he was a celebrated artisan and a wealthy man who wanted for nothing.

“Thank you, Master Zhang.”

Jung Yeonshin offered a clasped-hands salute in gratitude.

“On the contrary, the honor is mine. I know of your deeds, taking the heads of countless blood fiends. It has been an honor to lay my hands upon the person of such a noble hero.”

The craftsman surnamed Zhang bowed his head, his expression composed.

Jung Yeonshin found the response almost unbearably embarrassing. He immediately turned to the chief administrator.

“My height and arm length change by the day. Even if I have a robe made now, I will soon need another fitted. Is it all right to repeat this over and over? Thousand-year Silk is hardly an ordinary material.”

“That is not something you need concern yourself with as captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. The fortress draws its wealth from all under heaven. With the Son of Heaven on our side, a few scraps of cloth are of no consequence, however many sets you have made. It has always been so. Our captains do not win every battle unscathed, after all.”

The chief administrator spoke calmly. His explanation brought a nod from the boy.

Being fitted for a new robe made him feel the reality of his position as captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. He had also received the chief administrator’s advice before venturing into the martial world again, and the accounting of his achievements in Sichuan was now complete.

He had been promised that a greater reward than ever before would be delivered. Wealth would be piled up at the Radiant Demon Squad’s quarters, he was told. A premium spirit pill had also been sent through Chung Myung, the azure-eyed demonic swordsman.

'Most standard-issue spirit medicines will not help me much now. The Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art is so dense.'

The boy wondered whether a premium pill would be any different.

After thanking the chief administrator, he left the Command Bureau. He had been told that Law Enforcement Squad warriors would be guarding the rewards delivered to his residence.

He felt sorry for his seniors, who would have to keep company with those enforcers of the law whom everyone found uncomfortable. Yet his feet turned in precisely the opposite direction from his quarters.

TAP.

He continued walking.

Desolate Fortress captains were not entirely free to do as they pleased. Unlike when he had worn blue, he now had a schedule. This time, he had to attend a captains’ meeting.

He had heard it would be held in the Hall of the Sword That Seeks Peace, a building deep within the sprawling fortress. It was where he had previously clashed with the captain of the Suncheon Wing.

'The mission has been decided. They said we would discuss the details.'

Now that the Black-rank promotion ceremony had made his face known to every warrior remaining in the fortress, he drew the eyes of everyone he passed. Some whispered with flushed faces. Girls his own age and masters fingering their swords were no different in that respect.

Unlike when he had worn blue, however, no one gave in to competitive urges and challenged him to a match. Nor did anyone approach him casually.

The boy walked on with a faint sense of satisfaction.

'No nuisances. This is convenient.'

A captain’s rank commanded solemn respect.

* * *

Ordinarily, around three combat units under the Divine Sword Squad were stationed at the fortress. Some argued that even this was too many to leave behind, given the task of keeping order across the vast martial world. There were even captains who never saw one another throughout their tenure.

That made the current number of Black-ranked supreme masters in the Desolate Fortress all the more unusual.

The deputy leader of the Divine Sword Squad’s Divine Sword Unit. The Law Enforcement Squad Captain, the Radiant Demon Squad captain, the Azure Heaven Squad Captain, the captain of the Suncheon Wing, and the Annihilation Squad captain.

Including the former Radiant Demon Squad captain, there were seven Black-ranked masters alone. Add their respective combat units, and they constituted a force unmatched anywhere under heaven.

There was a reason some of the captains deployed elsewhere had returned to the fortress. They needed to discuss the Martial Alliance gathering. The justification for the Alliance’s formation was the Desolate Fortress’s use of force.

To respond to the martial world’s rapidly changing situation amid a poor harvest, they could not leave only three seats occupied in the Hall of the Sword That Seeks Peace.

But there was an uninvited guest. That was how Jung Yeonshin saw it, at least.

“Diancang?” the boy murmured.

Before him stood a round table surrounded by eighteen stone seats. At one side of the enormous table, Diancang Sect’s senior disciple occupied a separately provided chair. Her face was beautiful as she smiled at Jung Yeonshin.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, brushing the marble chairs. The white light reflected off the stone seats suffused her cheeks.

“Good to see you. That was a very impressive match.”

The woman waving at him with a somewhat vacant expression was Chwi So-ok, the Young Sword Empress.

After accompanying them back from Sichuan, she had stayed to watch his Black-rank promotion ceremony. She showed no sign of leaving, but Jung Yeonshin had just been thinking that this was for the best.

The Martial Alliance gathering was unknown territory. It would abound with orthodox martial arts he had never experienced, and orthodox masters he had never encountered. Now that he had safely escorted the elderly purple-robed masters back to the fortress, Diancang’s senior disciple would make a useful ally.

'It is enough if she takes my side when I need it. A senior disciple of the Nine Great Sects should carry weight in the Alliance.'

He gave the Young Sword Empress only a slight nod, and her lips curled upward in a curious smile. She seemed somewhat excited. What an odd person. Her inner thoughts were difficult to fathom, yet she showed him open affection.

She reminded him of the Seventh Apostle.

'... Let us not trust her with my back. Or ask her for favors.'

He had already been indebted several times to someone he considered an enemy. He did not want to add to his confusion.

He turned away as though avoiding the Young Sword Empress, and his smiling uncle came into view.

“Chwi So-ok of Diancang is here to provide information. Take a seat, Yeonshin.”

Ma Jin patted the place beside him. He meant for Yeonshin to occupy a stone seat, unlike the Young Sword Empress. It was only natural for a captain of the fortress. Jung Yeonshin sat down beside his uncle.

“The robe suits you.”

It was a woman’s voice. The breath behind it was firm. That single remark was enough to reveal how deeply she had cultivated her mental cultivation method.

Jung Yeonshin turned, slightly surprised. Law Enforcement Squad Captain Un Soyu was gazing steadily at him with jet-black eyes.

She had greeted him first. Had his attempt at diplomacy, modeled on Heon Wonchang, achieved its intended effect?

The boy became conscious of his clothes once more. He wore a black robe with the lower part of its left sleeve missing. His uncle had offered to lend him a new one, but he had specifically requested this one instead.

“It complements your distinctive bearing. It is not unsightly. Along with your famed ultimate techniques, it could become something of a personal symbol.”

“My distinctive bearing?”

“Dry and still. Like an old master who has already lived out his life.”

She fell silent after that brief answer.

Judging by the faces of the other captains and his uncle, Jung Yeonshin alone disagreed. These days, fierce winds and raging waves swept through his heart at every turn.

'Again.'

A sudden ache chilled both knees. The boy drew his brows together slightly. The cartilage that had hurt only when he was younger was beginning to trouble him again. It was not enough to affect his martial arts.

But in the realm of supreme masters, the smallest distance could decide life and death. Each day, he had to reacquaint himself with his visibly changing reach and eye level. The need had grown more pressing lately.

'I have to pay attention to the kicking techniques of the radiant demon arts, too. Though longer legs do help my Mobility Arts and kicking power.'

He was inwardly sighing when a voice spoke.

“If everyone is here, let us begin.”

The short-haired girl who had been watching him with an older sister’s gaze spoke. Of the seven Black-ranked masters present, she was the strongest.

Ak Surim, the Desolate Divine Spear. Having regained her youth, she grinned like a mischievous child and continued.

“We settled on Lightning Genius to go raise hell at that insolent Martial Alliance, right? Any objections?”

Her uninhibited speech and conduct were characteristic of the Divine Sword Squad’s Divine Sword Unit. It befitted a warrior so formidable that she was considered a candidate for the next Divine Sword Squad Leader.

Jung Yeonshin thought that, with her putting it that way, he really need not focus exclusively on reconnaissance.

'The looser the mission rules, the better. I just need to avoid causing trouble.'

Inside him, Lightning Genius was nodding along, looking ready to dance. The boy did his best to ignore him.

“...”

For a moment, no one could say anything in response to her request for objections.

Then one man raised his hand. Ha Doun, captain of the Suncheon Wing. His sleeves clung to his arms in a manner unusual for a long robe, revealing the muscles beneath.

As the immediate superior of Namgoong Hwashin, the White Qilin, he was the captain who had taken a hostile stance toward Jung Yeonshin. His expression was quite stiff.

“Nobody, just as I thought! Our dear Lightning Genius, go do everything your heart desires! Dismissed!”

Gripping her spear, Ak Surim pounded its butt against the floor.