'Is that a human hand? The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad?'

Zhuge Cheon, captain of the Worthy Heaven Squad, raised his eyebrows. Shock showed in the folds that abruptly creased his forehead. His expression stiffened as he stared across the room.

The hand slid through the curtain, its five fingers held in a knife-hand that looked both smooth and firm. It had pierced more than a mere sheet of silk.

HUM.

The go stones scattered nearby trembled slightly. There were a dozen or so black and white stones, used to activate the Enchantment. The Enchantment installed when the Alliance was founded was subsiding.

Activated with just a few go stones, the Layered Wind, Spreading Wall Formation was in fact a supreme art that had taken far more painstaking work than appearances suggested. Every building material held sorcerous power, installed according to the principles of geomancy and the Book of Changes: the roof ridge, beams, eaves, foundation stones, rafters, and all the other pillars. In short, it should never have been neutralized like this.

“What...!”

Sorcery was an art difficult to define in a few words. Unlike martial learning, its formulas followed no fixed pattern. Its branches were also innumerable. They shared only one thing: all were disciplines that toyed with the principles governing the myriad things of existence.

For a martial artist, it was difficult to contend with unless one had cultivated the sorcerous martial arts of the evil and unorthodox paths. This was all the more true for orthodox martial artists who had cultivated steadfast, deep internal energy. Neutralizing it through Burst Discharge required tremendous power, and the Layered Wind, Spreading Wall Formation installed in this office could withstand even one move from a sect leader of the Nine Great Sects.

'How in the world?'

Piercing it outright with a single strike meant stepping into the realm of miracles. It made no sense unless he had mastered an exceptionally rare and extraordinary martial discipline, like the two Grandmasters who had left imperishable marks on all of Murim.

Zhang Sanfeng, who had mastered the Eight Great Divine Incantations, the foundation of Daoist sorcery. And Bodhidharma, the Buddhist Grandmaster who had incorporated the Buddha's Dharma power into martial arts.

HUM!

A numinous pulse spread from the outstretched knife-hand, an invisible wave of qi enveloping the office. Zhuge Cheon, the Illustrious Master of Wind and Water, had cultivated both martial arts and sorcery, and sensed it immediately. The Layered Wind, Spreading Wall Formation was vanishing as though it had never existed. The wealth and accumulated achievement invested in the office were disappearing in an instant.

'As I thought, this is no mere core energy cultivated through breathing! Daoist? No, is there Buddhist power mixed into it...!'

It truly happened in a flash. The pulse of internal power felt utterly clear and pure. Could there be any other internal energy this unadulterated in the world? An installation that had cost immense time and money had been rendered useless without warning. Would it not have been far easier to oppose him in a straightforward clash of martial arts?

“Truly...?”

The questioning word escaped like a troubled murmur. An answer came at once.

“I stepped inside because you told me to enter.”

A single gesture swept aside the curtain that had formed the sorcerous formation's boundary. The green silk fluttered down, revealing a boy in a jet-black robe. He wore the black leather shoes that had shown beneath the curtain earlier. Shaking the green silk curtain off his hand, he stepped lightly inside, a peculiar dignity emanating from his entire figure.

“I trust I haven't committed a breach of etiquette merely by clearing an obstruction from my path.”

The boy spoke with an indifference unsuited to his years. Or perhaps it was precisely what one expected of his age. His standing and martial prowess were such that he could hold his own among the great figures of the world, lending weight to his every action. His mood was almost impossible to read.

'He is unquestionably a Black-ranked master of the Desolate Fortress.'

So Zhuge Cheon thought. Regardless of his age, the boy possessed skill worthy of his attire. In other words, he was a monster. This black-robed boy had torn apart a sorcerous formation with a single move. The pressure emanating from his entire body far surpassed the realm of rising generation disciples. To many martial artists, he would scarcely seem human.

“... Welcome, Captain. I am Zhuge Cheon, acting chief strategist of the Martial Alliance.”

With difficulty, Zhuge Cheon maintained a calm expression. He felt that something terrible would happen unless he acted as though nothing had occurred. Regret overwhelmed him. Testing the boy's temperament had certainly been necessary, but he had not known the boy possessed martial arts capable of neutralizing sorcerous power. He had intended to irritate him a little, then release the Enchantment as though nothing had happened.

As expected, the young captain before him did not let the matter pass.

“Is this how your Alliance treats an envoy?”

“... I have no idea what you mean. You seem to be suffering lingering fatigue from your long journey. I believe it would be best to arrange another suitable day for an audience. We shall provide fine accommodations, so why not get some rest?”

“I am Jung Yeonshin, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. Show me the courtesy due my station.”

The Desolate Fortress's young supreme master gave him no chance for further excuses. He slowly stepped toward the grand armchair in which Zhuge Cheon sat. The rustle of his robe, like a piece of the night sky, sounded unusually distinct. He had raised his Protective Aura. He was fully prepared. That single step forcefully conveyed his resolve: since Zhuge Cheon had plotted to humiliate him, he would not hesitate to strike.

“Surely this was not undertaken on one man's initiative. This is an official reception for an envoy, after all.”

The black-robed boy spoke again.

“Apologize to me on behalf of the Alliance.”

He did not frame it as Zhuge Cheon's personal misconduct. He had expanded the clash with the Enchantment into an issue between the Martial Alliance and the Desolate Fortress. His terse, relentless eloquence was a consummate art, like a swift sword.

The white-robed warrior of the Desolate Fortress, the captain's sole attendant, smacked his lips. Their captain had truly mastered the art.

“...”

Zhuge Cheon fell silent for a moment. He understood why the boy before him had risen to the rank of captain. He was already a man of the martial world, even setting his fighting prowess aside. He spoke well and possessed decisiveness. Zhuge Cheon saw a savage beast that had sunk its teeth into an enemy's neck and would not let go.

The go stones he had laid out to activate the Layered Wind, Spreading Wall Formation had become a self-defeating move. A losing play. He had damaged his own Alliance's prestige at their very first meeting. He gazed steadily at the boy's expressionless face. As acting chief strategist, Zhuge Cheon considered the situation.

'What if this humiliating situation cannot be confined to a personal matter?'

Zhuge Cheon, the Illustrious Master of Wind and Water, had not become captain of the Worthy Heaven Squad through personal fighting strength alone. He commanded sorcerous formations with consummate skill, possessed broad knowledge, and had cultivated considerable martial prowess. These qualities had earned him a place among those the Zhuge clan head valued highly.

Should he summon the warriors stationed in this hall? How many men and how much time would it take to bring down this Black-ranked master? Zhuge Cheon himself would not escape unscathed. And what would he do after gathering men to subdue a captain of the Desolate Fortress? Kill him to silence him?

The Alliance was not, at its core, a single unified entity. There would be a tremendous commotion. Once everyone had witnessed it, he would be unable to stop the rumors from spreading. Nor did he believe they could capture the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad without a disturbance. Their losses would be enormous.

He could not simply insist he had done nothing, either. There were traces left by the activated Enchantment's destruction. This captain of the Radiant Demon Squad appeared well versed in sorcerous formations. The way he surveyed his surroundings with his hands behind his back was enough to suggest as much. Where else could he have seen an Enchantment of this caliber? Reports on his activities said he had distinguished himself in the annihilation of the Blood Flame Cult's headquarters. Perhaps he had something to do with the destruction of that wicked cult's sorcerous formation.

'It's no use.'

He had destroyed the Layered Wind, Spreading Wall Formation with a single form. Possessing martial arts that affected sorcery and having the eye to discern a sorcerous formation's structure were separate things. A man this resolute would search the office and find the cracked building materials.

'I must abandon a hard-line response. There is more to lose than to gain.'

Zhuge Cheon slowly spoke. His hands trembled slightly as he raised them to his chest in a martial salute.

“... I have shown disrespect to the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. As a member of the righteous Martial Alliance, I offer my apology.”

An apology. Words he had never spoken to anyone as captain of the Worthy Heaven Squad slipped out quietly. He had said them only before the clan head, and even then, back when he had been a mere cog in the squad.

The boy's lips curved faintly.

“I'll take one thing with me. We can't have you denying this ever happened.”

The young captain raised his left arm. The loose sleeve of his robe slid down to his shoulder, exposing an arm sharply defined by rigorous training. A stormlike force arose in his palm.

“...!”

ROOOAR!

A tremendous suction force surged forth. The qi-absorbing formula governing his core energy had gone beyond all bounds. Amid the wood splinters scattering overhead, the office ceiling was being torn down in its entirety.

A haze of dust spread. Through the dirt obscuring his vision, Zhuge Cheon's eyes filled with shock.

'Blossoms Raining Across the Sky...?!'

THUD!

“It certainly bears an inscription.”

Jung Yeonshin caught a broken fragment of a beam and simultaneously stilled the formula. He lowered the piece of wood in his left hand to examine it.

The words “As the Law Commands” were written in bold, majestic calligraphy. It was indeed a remnant of the Enchantment. A numinous energy lingered about it, similar to what he had felt from the Blood Flame Cult's Twin Flame Blood Spirit Enchantment.

“This seems no ordinary power. Is this the Zhuge clan head's handwriting?”

The boy murmured. Zhuge Cheon had recovered his color, and a fierce look entered his face.

“... Do not speak so casually of the clan head.”

“Hm?”

“He is a man above your standing, in both seniority and status.”

“I received instruction from the Desolate Fortress Master.”

“...”

No martial artist argued seniority before the noble race. That was especially true of the Desolate Fortress Master, said to be the most exalted member of her people. Zhuge Cheon's mouth closed. The dozen or so Alliance warriors who had rushed into the office at the tremendous disturbance also fell silent. Their faces suggested they had some inkling of what had happened.

“Mind how you conduct yourself.”

Heon Wonchang spoke. It was what Jung Yeonshin had once said to the Supreme Flame Dragon. The young captain gave Heon Wonchang an unnecessary tap on the shoulder, then turned away.

For all the commotion, only property had been damaged. Zhuge Cheon, the office's occupant, bore no signs of combat. As the Martial Alliance's masters stepped back one after another, Jung Yeonshin's voice rang out briefly.

“We'll arrange another day to meet. I presume my accommodations have already been assigned. I'll have a servant show me the way.”

* * *

The relationship between the worldly orthodox sects and the Desolate Fortress was not simple. This had been especially true before the Martial Alliance formed. Until then, the righteous martial schools had not openly displayed hostility toward the fortress. It was the faction most active in protecting the people's livelihoods. Though they might curse its methods of wielding force behind its back, they could not denounce it openly before the world. So long as orthodox Murim upheld chivalry and justice as its banner, they had no choice.

Yet they did not draw close to it, either. The Desolate Fortress's conduct saw to that. It made no allowances for martial artists' circumstances. In tending to the people's concerns, it did not defer to orthodox sects. It exposed their hypocrisy for all to see and never hesitated to wield its blades until a sect was annihilated.

In name, orthodox martial schools pursued both chivalry and justice. The righteous path, the white path, orthodox lineages, orthodox factions: these were martial traditions seeking renown under designations that signified righteousness.

In reality, however, chivalry in the Central Plains was not synonymous with justice. They were quite different. Measured against the teachings of the Four Books and Three Classics, it was a deeply bizarre creed.

“For example, suppose a clan that committed a crime faces annihilation...”

The Supreme Flame Dragon tapped the table with his large hand. Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin sat around it with him.

“If a third party with ties to that clan dies fighting alongside them against their enemies as the clan is destroyed, he's called a chivalrous hero. Because he upheld his loyalty and convictions to his last breath. That's how the martial world actually sees things.”

“I thought I'd seen quite a bit of the martial world.”

Jung Yeonshin spoke. The Supreme Flame Dragon smiled languidly.

“The world of lofty, principled fighters is fundamentally crude and foolish. They can't be friends with the Desolate Fortress. Not if they want to uphold that chivalry of theirs.”

The Court of Graceful Fragrance. This was the lodging assigned to Jung Yeonshin's party. True to its name, it possessed extraordinary charm.

They need only open the door to see the loft built above the outer gate. The entrance was two stories high. The miniature mountain in the center of the courtyard was also beautiful, a small arrangement of carved rock set beside the garden lake.

They were certainly being treated as honored guests. Except for one thing: the location of their lodgings was suspiciously convenient.

“So you're saying someone might pick a fight at any moment?”

Jung Yeonshin asked. The Supreme Flame Dragon tilted his head toward his shoulder.

“I'm saying it's possible. Can't you hear voices on every side? And those constant footsteps sound like thunder. Well, it's only natural, since we're occupying a house right in the middle of the Alliance. I hear the Alliance is made up of a hundred-odd martial schools... Even without knowing their intentions, doesn't this feel like a very blatant scheme?”

“I see.”

“Hmm... But why are you smiling? I'd rather like to die of old age.”