The sparring continued day after day. Many people came and went from the Court of Graceful Fragrance, seeking fellowship with the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad through their swords.

Word was apparently spreading through the Alliance's enormous headquarters: the young captain from the Desolate Fortress was offering instruction.

Even now, voices could be heard outside the gate.

"Interesting things are happening before the founding ceremony has even begun. I've heard rumors that the Namgoong clan has come to see the White Qilin. And those fellows going out to welcome Zhongnan's Sword Dragon are quite amusing."

"Every sort of person in the martial world has gathered here. Though even among them, a Black-ranked warrior of the Desolate Fortress is bound to stand out."

"I heard from the Clear Unity Sect leader that a single spar gave him the beginnings of an insight... I simply cannot understand it. Why would a master of the Desolate Fortress offer instruction to our Alliance's warriors? If he did it deliberately, that would make him a great hero, not a radical."

"Isn't he rather young to be called a great hero?"

"If that's what you think, why have you come all this way to loiter outside?"

Jung Yeonshin thought that neither side understood the other's intentions.

'There's no need to hear any more of this.'

He stopped the radiant wheel revolving within his heart. As he drew in his core energy, his hearing dulled again.

The Martial Alliance could hardly know nothing about Jung Yeonshin. Even his publicly known exploits gave them reason to be puzzled.

Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin had always earned merit beyond his robe rank. He had slain opponents he should have struggled to defeat.

The most striking example was killing an elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe while still a white robe.

The Vicious Rakshasa Swordsman.

That had been after repeated encounters with Zhongnan Sect masters. He had been exhausted enough to show the first signs of qi deviation.

Jung Yeonshin had reviewed the Vicious Rakshasa Swordsman's habits, the waves of force in his strikes, and the trajectories of his sword paths that he had witnessed, preparing a single countering form.

It had been a gamble. Had the Rakshasa Swordsman used a different form, Yeonshin would have been the one struck down.

It was an exploit that could hardly escape notice.

'The Martial Alliance's leadership must be on guard. Yet they aren't stopping these masters from challenging me...'

Perhaps they had weighed the gains against the losses and decided they stood to gain more.

That was the shape of things now. Many people were concentrating on the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad.

Jung Yeonshin, on the other hand, exchanged blows with each of them only once.

Compared with the information the Martial Alliance was uncovering, what he acquired was shallow. It was much like facing a succession of fresh opponents.

'This is different from the Blue Qilin. Which approach is right?'

["I hear you excel at both dismantling forms and destroying them. At unraveling them as well as breaking them. So I have no intention of showing you my sword forms beforehand."]

Those had been the words of Namgoong Sejin, the Blue Qilin.

He had been an exceptional man. After hearing that Jung Yeonshin had beheaded the Tyrant Sword Tribe's Vicious Rakshasa Swordsman during the fighting between Zhongnan and the Tribe, he had established that the Beggars' Sect had witnessed the battle.

When the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius was chosen as his younger sister's sparring opponent, Namgoong Sejin had bought information from the Beggars' Sect.

'Blue Qilin. Perhaps you were right.'

The Namgoong young clan head had drawn his own conclusion from the intelligence his clan had gathered: he must not show Lightning Genius his martial arts.

"Move over."

Jung Yeonshin pushed the Supreme Flame Dragon aside and sat down on the ornamental rockery. The unranked disciple, displaced before he could react, spoke with an incredulous look.

"I find myself wondering what it would be like to reach Blue rank. Is this what ambition feels like?"

Grumbling, the Supreme Flame Dragon pushed off from the lakeside and crossed to the other bank.

Once in the garden, he laced his fingers behind his head. He looked like an idler, utterly at ease.

"Our young captain is far too indifferent. The Desolate Fortress is all well and good, but a domineering sect would have suited you perfectly."

"Earn some merit, and I'll treat you differently."

The boy tapped the base of the rockery with his heel as he spoke, his gaze fixed quietly on the main gate ahead.

His face was as indifferent as the Supreme Flame Dragon had said.

Compiling the Comprehensive Compendium for Breaking the Righteous Path and continuing to revise his swordsmanship was all well and good. But the Court of Graceful Fragrance was a house in the heart of enemy territory.

He could not afford to overlook the Alliance's intentions entirely.

"Splendid."

After watching Jung Yeonshin for a moment, the Supreme Flame Dragon chuckled, his head still resting against his interlaced fingers.

"This poor, neglected subordinate will take a look around the Alliance. Our captain seems curious about what the bigwigs are plotting."

"You want me to entrust the spying to you?"

"Actually, I'll do better than Hwashin, who went out earlier. The righteous orthodox world is still a place inhabited by people. Unless they're from the Nine Great Sects, they all enjoy drinking and making merry. Whether it's a lavish drinking party where everyone speaks freely, a battle of nerves over the dishes, or a sword dance once the wine takes hold. And..."

The curve of the Supreme Flame Dragon's smile deepened.

"The Hwangbo clan's Supreme Flame Dragon was quite renowned in Jinan as a Flower Young Master..."

Jung Yeonshin briefly considered whether he ought to keep listening to this nonsense.

Just then, something happened.

The side door beside the main gate opened. A man in neat green clothes entered, shut it behind him, and hurried over to present a letter.

He was the servant of the Court of Graceful Fragrance who had gone out to buy ingredients. The Martial Alliance had assigned him to them.

A commoner born and raised in Hanzhong, he had learned only the Three Powers Heart Method promulgated by the imperial court.

"Captain, a message."

"A message? From where?"

Jung Yeonshin dropped down from the rock and accepted the letter, opening it as he asked.

"The Murong clan. Young Master Murong Mingjun asked me to deliver it."

The servant answered respectfully.

The Supreme Flame Dragon came over and peered at the letter beside him. Jung Yeonshin paid him no mind.

Silence fell briefly as they read together. Then the Supreme Flame Dragon's lips twisted slightly.

"An invitation. They're moving to keep you in check before the founding ceremony. Will you accept?"

"I need information too. A warrior of our fortress won't have another chance to come this far inside."

"A captain's duty, then. Let's go together."

* * *

CLATTER.

The antique wooden doors opened to either side. Jung Yeonshin, the Supreme Flame Dragon, and Heon Wonchang stepped into a banquet hall filled with orange lanterns.

It was evening, with the Mid-Autumn Festival not far off.

The night breeze was refreshing, but the heat of the crowd was anything but. The waves of qi radiating from dozens of people were tremendous.

"Wasn't I right?"

The Supreme Flame Dragon's earlier words had proved true. The interior was lavish. Many martial artists were eating and drinking, most of them young.

Their liveliness outshone the lanterns. The place brimmed with vitality.

Even at a glance, the stone ornaments and landscape paintings on the walls looked valuable. This was a pavilion built entirely for banquets.

Yet the Martial Alliance's warriors themselves were the hall's finest adornment.

The air surrounding them spoke of outstanding skill. Deeply cultivated bearing mingled with youthful vigor.

Martial lineages of renowned sects and illustrious clans. The banquet possessed both splendor and refinement.

They asked after one another's teachers and discussed martial arts. Here and there, people probed one another's intentions with pointed remarks.

Others exchanged glances with those who had caught their fancy.

TAP.

The hem of Jung Yeonshin's pitch-black trousers shifted. One step. The quiet footfall held a peculiar power.

The core energy of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art belonged to a divine technique imbued with spiritual nature. It bestowed an immense presence upon its practitioner. He had stepped forward without any particular intention, yet silence spread.

Only then did the others turn their eyes toward him.

"..."

The qi waves of a supreme master. They brought stillness even though he had made no effort to attract attention.

The character for "desolate" near his forearm gleamed gold in the lantern light. His jet-black robe looked like the formal attire of a Beijing noble.

His bearing and appearance played a large part in that impression. So did the black hair swaying darkly against his shoulders.

It shone as though he were confident even in close-quarters, barehanded combat. No one could fault him for it.

How many masters in this banquet hall could break through a Desolate Fortress Black-ranked warrior's sword domain and seize his hair?

"The character for 'desolate,' and black robes... Someone invited the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad?"

"Who on earth?"

Few voiced such questions. Most of the gazes turning toward Jung Yeonshin were composed.

The Supreme Flame Dragon had called it an attempt to keep him in check. Martial artists' schemes, he had said, were fundamentally crude and blunt.

Those who had not agreed to participate simply were not here.

Mount Hua's Yoo Hyun was nowhere to be seen either. Apparently his sect elders had yet to lift his confinement.

Jung Yeonshin thought it was just deserts.

'What would Yoo Hyun think of this?'

As the crowd silently regarded the lone boy, a swordsman in pink martial robes approached.

He was a handsome young man.

"Captain of the Radiant Demon Squad."

He smiled and clasped his hands in a martial salute.

"I hadn't expected you to accept the invitation. Please, enjoy yourself without reservation."

There was something oddly grating about his manner, as though he were asking, You actually came? A few people whispered.

Some frowned off to one side. Most did not. Jung Yeonshin sensed hostility bordering on resentment toward an outsider.

'A few of them are whispering... Blue Qilin? I see. It's because of the Namgoong young clan head's standing among them.'

Namgoong Sejin's name reached his ears several times. They were questioning whether a boy so young truly possessed that much martial prowess.

Lowering his clasped hands, Murong Mingjun spoke again.

"The wish to invite you occurred to me rather late. There was too little time to inform all our comrades of your arrival, Captain. It was foolish of me. I sincerely apologize."

"The Murong young clan head?"

Jung Yeonshin asked, and Murong Mingjun nodded slowly.

"I am Murong Mingjun, the young master of the Murong clan."

The boy smiled faintly.

"I see. Thank you for inviting me."

He spoke as a superior. For an instant, Murong Mingjun's sharp brows drew together. He could no longer maintain the air of a host receiving a guest in his own home.

The Murong regional noble clan carried itself like royalty in Liaoning. Its heir was not someone to receive approving thanks from a boy far younger than himself.

"Is there a problem?"

The boy asked calmly.

Inwardly, Jung Yeonshin was the puzzled one. Had the fellow really meant to test his character at a banquet?

Was he stupid enough to expect the Desolate Fortress's captain of the Radiant Demon Squad to address him deferentially?

'The young clan heads I know are frightening, deeply calculating people.'

Namgoong Sejin's face came to mind. The Supreme Flame Dragon's mug was an added bonus.

"I can see right through you, Murong whelp."

The added bonus happened to be standing beside him, smiling languidly.

"A Black-ranked warrior representing the Desolate Fortress can't defer to a mere member of the rising generation. Isn't the sword the proper way for those who live by it to show respect? Our captain has perfected that particular art. If you don't like it, challenge him to a spar. You'll witness some extraordinary etiquette. If you want to earn the captain's respect by flapping your mouth, shatter your energy core and become a commoner first."

Judging by his words and manner, he had become a Desolate Fortress warrior through and through. Jung Yeonshin shook his head and nudged him aside.

When Yeonshin said he would see to his own enjoyment, Murong Mingjun nodded silently.

He looked as though he had been about to retort to the Supreme Flame Dragon. Having put an end to the confrontation, the boy sat at one side of a table.

The banquet resumed.

Murong Mingjun was the first to pour him a drink and accept one in return, then excused himself and left.

After watching his dignified retreat beside Yeonshin, the Supreme Flame Dragon departed as well. He said there were people here he had known during his days as the Hwangbo young clan head.

As far as Jung Yeonshin was concerned, it would be a relief if he did not go begging for poppy. He barely had any silver left now.

Only Heon Wonchang remained. He lifted a jade wine pot and poured water for Jung Yeonshin, who did not drink.

"Murong Mingjun, the Sword of Mercantile Acumen. I hear he plays the Confucian scholar as much as anyone in the Zhuge Clan, but is actually closer to a merchant. A scholar's skin over a merchant's nature. They say he's quite good with a sword too. Apparently, if you mean to keep him close, keep him right beside you. If you mean to keep your distance, it's best not even to look his way."

Their table was conspicuously empty.

The banquet hall was immense, some forty zhang across, which made the vacant seats stand out all the more.

Neither paid any heed to the many glances cast their way from afar. They simply shared their drinks in silence.

'I can see quite a lot.'

Jung Yeonshin openly studied the Martial Alliance's warriors as he thought.

There was no lofty master on the level of an elder here. That meant none could fully conceal their core energy.

The qi waves brushing against his skin alone let him survey the properties of the core energy they had cultivated.

The pain that sometimes visited Jung Yeonshin's knees had grown markedly worse of late. The capabilities of his upper dantian had strengthened accordingly.

They were sufficient to analyze the distinctive fluctuations of the Alliance warriors' internal power.

When he then devised a counteracting wave of force in his mind, it became the next page of the Comprehensive Compendium for Breaking the Righteous Path.

"Over there. The fellow wearing the yellow hero's headband."

"A layabout from the Jinju Eon clan."

Whenever Jung Yeonshin asked someone's identity, Heon Wonchang answered at once.

The great hero of Desolate Fortress had memorized every booklet of likenesses kept at the fortress.

He knew the identities of all the martial-family members who paid tribute to the authorities.

About a quarter of an hour passed that way.

Suddenly, a slender shadow fell across the table. A long braid was the first thing to enter his vision. Jung Yeonshin looked up.

Their eyes met. A woman with very dark eyes wore a smooth smile.

"I'm Ak Yerim of the Yue clan of Shandong."

"Jung Yeonshin, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad."

"I understand you witnessed the Blue Qilin's final moments. I was his betrothed."

Her red lips moved. There was no goodwill in her eyes. The bluntness with which she went straight to the subject made her feelings plain enough.

"The man I knew was a hypocrite. He was always busy hiding his clan's shame behind seemingly fair and honorable conduct."

"..."

"I'm curious what you think, Young Master. You faced him in a duel to the death as an accomplished martial artist. You must have felt Namgoong Sejin's character more deeply than anyone."

Ak Yerim whispered. Her approach was inexplicable.

Jung Yeonshin's time in the martial world had been short but intense. He knew the novice before him was trying to deceive him.

The trembling at her lips and the sound of her heartbeat gave her away. Neither was natural.

A thought suddenly occurred to the boy. What were these amateurs trying to do?

"You."

The young captain of the Radiant Demon Squad slowly began to speak.

"You speak far too lightly of the Blue Qilin."

Emotion colored his words. That was rare indeed.

"You're tarnishing his dignity."

A sword rose within the boy's heart.