He looked utterly bewildered. Jung Yeonshin gazed calmly at the Sword Star.

As silence returned to the garden of the Alliance Leader’s Hall, he abruptly became aware of the undergrowth beneath his feet. The venerable senior meant what he said. He had no intention of saddling a junior novice with a debt. He seemed to be saying that since Yeonshin had taken it for himself, it belonged to him.

There was nothing petty about him. This was the bearing of a genuinely magnanimous man.

The boy shook his head.

“Having gained such profound insight from observing your person, Senior, I cannot shamelessly claim to have reached it all on my own.”

“...”

“Your very existence has indeed granted me a fortuitous opportunity, Sword Star. Thank you once again.”

The young captain of the Radiant Demon Squad offered another martial salute.

Only then did the Sword Star’s lips relax. He shook his head as though something had been stolen from him. His expression suggested he had been robbed with his eyes wide open. The hollow laugh escaping his astonished face betrayed his incredulity.

“Calling it a kindness makes me feel stranger still.”

“And you aren’t even trying to provoke me,” the Sword Star muttered.

“This is hardly a profitable bargain. I felt nothing but pride in you, yet now I find myself getting peevish for no good reason. You’ve stirred up an old man’s ugly side. Why didn’t you simply deny it? Say you found nothing remarkable in the stance of a senior who also happens to wield a sword?”

His words and conduct were astonishingly unconventional for a first meeting, all the more so from the Martial Alliance Leader of the orthodox righteous path.

Yet Jung Yeonshin’s expression was now calm. He had earned an interim reward from his mission to the Martial Alliance. He had raised the central beam of a new sword art. It was an enormous achievement.

'From my second divine technique onward, I can’t expect anything like Bodhidharma’s spiritual nature.'

He would have to reach that height through his own skill alone. He had to pour his overflowing inspiration into a single blade, Northern Radiance.

He had already decided that his second divine technique would be a sword art. Meeting the Sword Star had helped him more than any spirit medicine could.

“I know that look well. You’re itching to wield your sword.”

The Sword Star smiled mischievously.

“There, we have quite a bit in common. Nothing compares to the pleasure of refining your own swordplay. Born a mere human, you begin to feel omnipotent. You flustered this old man with your martial arts without even drawing your blade. I’m exceedingly curious about the sword art you’ll create.”

“You flatter me.”

The boy hastily assumed an impassive expression. The Sword Star’s smile deepened.

“Those aren’t just words.”

“...?”

“There’s a place where you can practice your swordsmanship to your heart’s content. No... perhaps I should say a group of fellows. A blade is perfected in an enemy’s flesh and bones, after all, and some demonic foot soldiers playing at being an army happen to be loitering near the Alliance.”

“You mean the Martial Alliance?”

“You know them? Ah, come to think of it, you were the one who rescued Mount Hua’s hidden dragon, weren’t you? This is late in coming, but you did splendidly. That boy Yoo Hyun has considerable talent, and an upright character as well. I don’t know what will become of this Alliance, but that child, at least, has the makings of a great gallant hero. You have my sincere thanks.”

“Mount Hua’s elders have already thanked me. Saving a friend hardly merits praise.”

With that cursory reply, Jung Yeonshin lowered his clasped hands. Any more praise would make his ears itch. Glancing slightly aside, he spoke again.

“So, what is it you wish to say?”

“Our current captain of the Radiant Demon Squad was certainly born with the seed of dragons and tigers, yet...”

The corners of the Sword Star’s mouth rose playfully.

“You have something of a cat about you. When you live out your full span of years, I hope the companion who spends a lifetime beside you will be drawn to that disposition. What do you say? Countless daughters of distinguished houses gather here at our Alliance. I’m willing to play the Old Man Under the Moon—the matchmaker. If you were to wed the cherished daughter of a martial house under the Alliance, relations between us and the Desolate Fortress...”

“Thank you for your kind wishes.”

Jung Yeonshin interrupted the incorrigible senior with a brief tilt of his chin. He wanted him to get to the point.

He had only recently become newly conscious of having been born a man. He did not want his thoughts unsettled further.

'I won’t die young and leave a child behind. At least, I won’t...'

So the boy thought, needlessly shaking out the sleeves of his black robe.

After gazing at him steadily, the Sword Star spoke.

“You said you were indebted to me. Deal with the Martial Alliance’s martial army, and we’ll call it even. I cannot let riffraff from the Thirteen skies dampen the excitement over our founding ceremony. Annihilate the ones prowling around Hanzhong.”

“Does the Alliance have no masters to spare?”

“The elders of the great sects apparently intend to show their faces only once the founding ceremony begins. The clan heads are too busy pushing one another forward. Our Alliance is a sheep in a tiger’s skin at present. Nothing but a fine exterior with no substance. Hmm? Perhaps I shouldn’t be saying that to a master of the Desolate Fortress.”

“And you, Alliance Leader?”

“If even I leave my post? I foresee a complete mess. Even if I do little of consequence sitting here. I’ve become a petty man who can scarcely speak of chivalry anymore. I cannot readily abandon this Alliance, which is meant to root out the hypocrisy of those righteous-path bastards. Even with the other Martial Alliance wreaking havoc outside, I must keep the larger picture in view.”

The Sword Star leisurely surveyed the garden and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Besides, nothing good will come of you staying here. You’ll only give the clan heads an excuse to pick a quarrel. The Desolate Fortress’s envoy is a focal point of conflict. Go cut off some Thirteen skies heads until the founding ceremony begins.”

“Why should I?”

Jung Yeonshin asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“Because the championship is yours anyway, Captain, and I need a separate achievement from you that will let this old man save face,” the Sword Star said with a hearty laugh. “You can hone your sword arts in real combat against reasonably worthy foes, while I can ease my political burden. It will be difficult to advocate harmony after handing the Great Restoration Pill to a master of the Desolate Fortress.”

He had spoken of harmony. The Sword Star, Hyeon Sobaek, did not seem to want to turn his blade against the Desolate Fortress.

He had also spoken of rooting out the righteous path’s hypocrisy. He appeared to be locked in a political struggle with the clan heads.

At the same time, a demon whispered within Jung Yeonshin. An image of the Seventh Apostle moved its lips.

Wouldn’t you have to make an enemy of the Martial Alliance to put the Comprehensive Compendium for Breaking the Righteous Path to good use?

“...”

The boy fell silent for a moment.

Had he sensed something amiss? The Sword Star spoke again.

“Refine your swordsmanship while you’re at it, and wait for your turn on the opera stage. The star of this founding ceremony can only be the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, who reached the realm of a supreme master at such a tender age.”

Jung Yeonshin slowly parted his lips.

“You mentioned elder-level masters. This hardly seems a matter to discuss so lightly. If you wish to entrust me with a mission, give me the intelligence your Alliance has gathered. How can I accept without knowing whether you intend to kill me with a borrowed blade?”

“A borrowed blade?”

The Sword Star echoed the words. The boy’s remark was outrageously bold. He was asking whether the man meant to borrow the other Martial Alliance’s sword to murder a warrior of the Desolate Fortress.

And he said it to the face of a peerless master who stood at the pinnacle of the world’s righteous path. He freely voiced what most people would never dare utter, even if they harbored the thought.

Zhuge Hyeon, who had remained silent all this while, cautiously spoke up.

“Captain, even so, your language...”

Just then, the Sword Star grinned.

“Very well. Select your companions from the Alliance’s young people. I’ll handle the clan heads. Even if you die, you’ll meet your end alongside direct descendants of the martial clans. As Alliance Leader, I’ll entrust them to you in the belief that you’ll bring them all back alive.”

Zhuge Hyeon could not hide his surprise. Only the boy nodded.

The Sword Star was an eccentric. This was no occasion to ask, in turn, how he could trust Yeonshin.

What mattered now was the sword art yearning to sprout from Jung Yeonshin’s arm. He also recalled the horrors he had witnessed in the village where he had beheaded the prefect.

In any case, taking the heads of Thirteen skies masters amounted to meritorious service for the Desolate Fortress. The more merit points, the better. He decided to set aside his concerns about the Comprehensive Compendium for Breaking the Righteous Path.

“Read it carefully. I didn’t mention the elders of the great sects without reason.”

The Sword Star handed him a rolled letter. It appeared to contain information on the nearby masters of the other Martial Alliance. Asking this favor had been his purpose in inviting Jung Yeonshin all along.

The boy organized what he would report to the Command Bureau upon returning to the fortress: the Martial Alliance had more than enough supreme masters available, but political games had reduced it to asking a Desolate Fortress warrior for help.

“Then I’ll be going.”

Tucking the document into his robe, Jung Yeonshin turned without hesitation. He had agreed to repay the Sword Star’s kindness through this commission. There was no further business to attend to.

“I’ll take Ak Yerim, Murong Mingjun, Gongsun Min, and the Young Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok.”

He spoke with his back turned. They were simply the only names he remembered. He excluded Yoo Hyun of Mount Hua.

For warriors of the rising generation, this could prove a death trap. He had no desire to bring a friend along. The same went for Fan Dragon Zhuge Hyeon, whose fan he had burned after courteously requesting a spar.

Beside him, Zhuge Hyeon flinched and stared at Jung Yeonshin.

The boy looked away. So what?

Laughter colored the Sword Star’s voice.

“You’re taking only the cream of the crop. Direct descendants of the Eight Families and Diancang’s sect leader’s direct successor-disciple, no less. The Martial Alliance’s armies stationed throughout the land are as numerous as the Blood Flame Cult’s and as powerful as the Martial Dragon Society and Tyrant Sword Tribe. I don’t expect you to wipe them all out. Don’t overreach.”

“You seem to have changed your tune now that I’m taking the younger warriors.”

“That’s what I mean by burdens. The sorrows of a powerless Alliance Leader. You cannot change this rotten orthodox martial world with one sword. Even swordsmanship worthy of contending for supremacy under heaven has proved insufficient.”

Jung Yeonshin looked back at the Sword Star. The venerable senior with the handsome face of a middle-aged man smiled at him. The founding ceremony had yet to begin, and already he looked ten years older.

The clan heads had established the Martial Alliance to preserve their vested interests. The Sword Star was merely the symbolic leader they had placed above themselves.

Among those determined to preserve things, one man struggled alone to change them. He seemed to stand on another battlefield, separate from Jung Yeonshin’s world.

“What is that?”

The boy suddenly gestured with his chin. A Go board sat on the flat stone paving beside the Alliance Leader.

The Sword Star gave a faint smile.

“It seems he didn’t want an utter puppet for an Alliance Leader. The Zhuge clan head has been teaching me Go. He says it contains the art of navigating the world. You should make time to learn it too. Life holds many wonders. Once you’ve obtained that fruit, I hope you’ll experience them all at least once. Be it Go, friendship, or love.”

The peerless master spoke with clear eyes.

His words carried weighty implications. The boy nodded calmly.

All the great sects were said to monitor the activities of the Desolate Fortress’s captains. The same would likely hold true for Jung Yeonshin’s background and his movements before joining the fortress.

'He saw through my constitution, so he must have guessed my goal too.'

The boy spoke one last time.

“May I ask you to keep this to yourself?”

“Just refine your sword art well and show it to me. You know the winner of the founding tournament must withstand one move from this old man, don’t you? Your bearing is quite numinous, yet still rough in places. I’m curious what sword art you’ll perfect through your encounter with me.”

The Sword Star answered obliquely.

There were fifteen days left until the founding ceremony.

Half a shichen later, Jung Yeonshin returned to the Court of Graceful Fragrance and sat with his older subordinates.

Inside the spacious room, Namgoong Hwashin sat upright while Heon Wonchang rolled his neck from side to side. The Supreme Flame Dragon lay on the floor, turning onto his side. There was little Yeonshin could say about it. The man even chewed poppies because he could not endure the heat of his Solar Divine Meridians.

“So, let me get this straight... The Martial Alliance is smugly celebrating, we came to cause a little trouble for them, and those sinister, vicious bastards from the other Martial Alliance are prowling around nearby?”

“That’s right.”

“We did hear about them from the late prefect. A three-way struggle?”

“Speak respectfully.”

“I’m talking to myself.”

“...”

“Actually, don’t you already have debts and grudges with that Martial Alliance, Captain?” Heon Wonchang interjected.

At a gathering of that Alliance’s rising young warriors, Yeonshin had cut off the head of someone called Sword Flower for attempting to harm commoners during a boating excursion. Later, while he was traveling with Blue Qilin Namgoong Sejin, Sword Flower’s betrothed had sent men after him. The fellow was that Martial Alliance’s eldest young master.

“They’re already our sworn enemies, and they routinely plunder villages. We can strike without hesitation. I’ll perform deeds worthy of being called a divine hero, rather than merely a great hero.”

Heon Wonchang tightened the blue hero’s headband around his forehead as he spoke. Jung Yeonshin nodded absently and stood.

“I obtained two copies of the Alliance Leader’s orders bearing his official seal. I attached one to a carrier pigeon and sent it to the fortress as evidence. We leave now. We need to collect the young warriors before the clan heads catch wind of it. Those clan bastards might be colluding with the other Martial Alliance.”

He had witnessed the retired head of the Sichuan Tang Clan joining hands with the Blood Flame Cult. The Namgoong clan had stabbed him in the back as well.

Jung Yeonshin was now a young but worldly-wise denizen of the martial world. To draw his sword with the Martial Alliance at his back, he needed hostages.

“Leave that to me. That besotted Young Sword Empress will follow of her own accord. She seems thoroughly smitten with our young captain. As for the others, their martial arts wouldn’t even make a light snack for me.”

The Supreme Flame Dragon sprang to his feet.

“Let’s stop at the market first. I need supplies.”

“We have enough jerky. Wound medicine and internal-injury medicine too.”

“Not those.”

* * *

One shichen later.

Three young warriors, including Ak Yerim, had been hauled out before they quite knew what was happening. The long-haired Young Sword Empress smiled at the black-robed boy. Zhuge Hyeon was there too, having volunteered to accompany them out of Alliance headquarters.

Jung Yeonshin was not interested in them. He did not consider them fighting assets. Nor did he care that, for some reason, the clans had offered no resistance.

“Supplies, my ass,” the boy muttered.

They were in an alley behind the bustling marketplace. The Supreme Flame Dragon was haggling with a merchant. Behind him, red poppy blossoms piled in heaps danced in the autumn wind.

After staring blankly at the scene, the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad slowly turned away.

“Let’s go.”