They ran for an entire day, traveling by lightness skill rather than on swift horses. Exterminating the hostile Martial Alliance was no trivial undertaking. Their lives depended on concealing their presence as they approached.

They had left Namgoong Hwashin at headquarters in case something happened to Jung Yeonshin. At least one envoy of the Desolate Fortress had to remain with the Martial Alliance. Only a Blue could fill in for a black-robed expert, even temporarily. Hwashin ranked immediately below Yeonshin and was also his most dependable companion.

'He'll keep a close eye on affairs within the Alliance, too.'

The boy held the White Qilin's martial prowess, resourcefulness, character, and standing among others in high regard.

The hostile Martial Alliance was a formidable enemy: masters of a major faction against whom victory was far from assured. They had to allow for the possibility that the entire party might perish or be delayed. That was why Namgoong Hwashin had stayed behind.

"Couldn't we simply not go? Clashing with the Thirteen Skies is hardly an everyday affair."

The Supreme Flame Dragon had come up beside him and was patting his chest, where he kept the bundle of poppies he had hastily bought two days earlier. Jung Yeonshin shook his head.

He felt Hwashin's absence keenly all over again. He had been such a reassuring presence.

"We have to go through this if we're to avoid disgrace. Unless my swordsmanship is honed in real combat, I won't be able to withstand his sword move. As things stand, I'll tarnish the prestige of the Desolate Fortress's Black rank."

As the boy spoke, the Supreme Flame Dragon bit into a poppy stalk.

"Is losing to the Sword Star disgraceful? He's hardly some middling master."

"It makes no difference that he's the Alliance Leader. If I let everyone see me defeated without putting up a fight... that alone means I've failed my mission. I'll have come to uphold our prestige, only to end up receiving instruction instead."

"The Alliance cooked this up because they're wary of you, Captain. It lets them save face even if they concede the founding tournament."

Heon Wonchang stood with his back straight. As he spoke, he glared needlessly at the Alliance warriors walking ahead, as befitted their role as hostages. Yet one hand lightly gripped the fabric at Yeonshin's shoulder.

He was using his young captain as a shield while talking so boldly. The boy silently shook his arm free.

The Supreme Flame Dragon's lips twisted upward.

"True, refusing their 'instruction' would look odd, too. The Sword Star is offering to teach a move to the master who wins the founding tournament, after all..."

"The Radiant Sword Art can't withstand a single move from the Sword Star. Even the Law Enforcement Squad Captain's sword strike interrupted its flow."

"And the Infinite Blossom Hand wouldn't do either, I suppose? Even something like Radiant River?"

At the Supreme Flame Dragon's question, Jung Yeonshin gazed at him for a moment. The fellow seemed bored with everything, yet apparently knew his unique martial arts inside out. He had gone on about martial talent at their first meeting; when it came to martial arts, he was exceptionally perceptive.

The boy slowly nodded.

"Reach is the problem. The moment I close in with fist and palm arts, my arm will be severed. My protective force qi can hardly withstand the Sword Star's blade."

"Then it does seem you'll have to rely on skill with a sword in the end. The Hwangbo clan has some fairly useful swordsmanship, too... an art called the Southern Blossom Sword Command Forms. After mastering it, my great-grandfather was hailed as Shandong's foremost swordsman of the decade. There's a famous story of how his lone sword drove back the spears of more than a dozen Yue clan masters."

"Utter nonsense!"

A clear voice cut in.

"That's not what happened! He shamelessly threw his weight around against rising generation disciples! Surely a young clan head would know that?"

It was Ak Yerim, elegantly dressed in pure white martial robes, a long spear strapped to her back. Its shaft swayed with each step alongside her long braid. The Yue Clan Spear Art she practiced belonged to the Yue clan of Shandong.

The Yue clan had competed in renown with the Supreme Flame Dragon's family, likewise based in Jinan, Shandong Province. They had been the lesser of the two until three Desolate Fortress combat units swept through Jinan. The destruction of the Hwangbo clan had benefited them greatly.

Originally counted among the Eight Great Families only north of the Yangtze, the Yue clan of Shandong had come to Hanzhong with the Alliance's inauguration to gain recognition throughout the land.

The Yue clan could ill afford to spare even a single master now. The clan head's eldest sister, Divine Spear Ak Surim, had joined the Desolate Fortress. That had cost them a tremendous fighting asset decades earlier. The story of how she had relinquished her claim to clan leadership for some undisclosed reason was famous.

The Supreme Flame Dragon chuckled.

"And was it your sense of shame that made you act that way? Quite a spectacle you put on, from what I saw."

"What?"

"Our captain is nearly ten years younger than you, yet you tried to call him to account at a banquet for a fair duel. Your little ploy was obvious. Everyone knows how deeply you loved Sejin. If I ever dreamed of behaving like that, I'd bite off my tongue and kill myself the moment I woke up."

"You...!"

Ak Yerim's eyes flashed, but she abruptly shut her mouth. Her gaze shifted toward Jung Yeonshin, complicated emotions filling her eyes.

She had brought up that sensitive subject without restraint in front of so many young warriors. She had never expected the boy to defend the Blue Qilin then and there. No one could have expected it. His declaration that they would remain equals even if he reached Purple had been a topic of conversation among them for some time.

'Did he mean it?'

That alone had not quelled her hatred. She was not inhumanly impartial like the White Qilin, nor an eccentric who would abandon even her family for the common people, as her eldest aunt Ak Surim had. For all her exalted status among Murim's powerful clans, she was an ordinary person at heart.

'The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. The White Qilin.'

She was confused. Unlike Namgoong Mi, Namgoong Sejin had been a good older brother to the White Qilin. Why would he travel the martial world with the man who had killed his own brother?

She did not consider the Desolate Fortress a faction of gallant heroes. She saw it as Murim's military establishment. Wasn't there ultimately only one reason it protected the common people? To ensure a steady flow of tribute to the imperial household.

Ak Yerim had originally intended to speak with the White Qilin alone. She wanted to look him in the face and ask whether the Radiant Demon Squad captain and the Desolate Fortress were any different from his own clan. Did he think it was an immaculate faction devoted solely to chivalry?

She truly would have done so, had the Desolate Fortress warriors not suddenly arrived and thrust the Alliance Leader's written orders before her.

"So where are we going?"

Her question was not directed at the Radiant Demon Squad captain. Addressing a Desolate Fortress captain required respectful speech, so she had chosen to ask the Hwangbo young clan head instead.

But the Supreme Flame Dragon was mischievous. He kept his mouth shut, offering no answer. He had seen straight through the brazen Yue warrior's intentions. Instead, he watched the two boys conversing nearby.

The youngster from the Gongsun clan had approached the young captain.

"My betrothed is very interested in you. So am I. We were at Azure Wild Valley, you see, when the Desolate Fortress and the Namgoong clan held their matches."

The boy's eyes shone brightly as he spoke. He was about Yeonshin's height.

Gongsun Min, young head of the Gongsun clan, one of the Eight Families. Did he enjoy roaming about with his Mobility Arts? He brimmed with lively energy, and his heavily soiled white silk martial robes somehow suited him.

"Azure Wild Valley?"

Jung Yeonshin remembered the crowds surrounding the gorge. Martial artists and commoners alike had gathered in great numbers.

Gongsun Min nodded vigorously.

"Yes. It was an enormous event. Honestly, I went to see the Divine Sword Squad Leader and Lord Namgoong's martial arts rather than yours... but quite apart from how advanced their skills were, your death duel with the Blue Qilin was incredibly impressive."

"What?"

"There was so much to learn from it. The exchanges flowed without a break, yet the moves were so intricate I was speechless. And the way you wrapped the wave of force from the Blue Qilin's sword strike around your hand and used it to strengthen your own palm technique was terrifying!"

He made no attempt to hide his admiration. His feelings showed plainly on his face. No one in the Martial Alliance had treated Yeonshin this way before. They said more than a hundred sects had joined the Alliance; apparently it really did contain every sort of person.

"Honestly..."

Jung Yeonshin turned his head, taking care not to show his awkwardness.

It was time to be on guard. The party had entered a village. Fragments of the palisade, shriveled like firewood, crunched beneath their feet. Smoke rose between the houses, desolate as bundles of incense burning for the dead.

'No one's alive.'

The ominous wind bore witness to the massacre. Even the last traces of life in the village seemed buried beneath the crude graves. It was like stepping into another world. The stench of rotting corpses was overpowering.

It was a sight all too familiar to martial artists in a year of famine.

The powerful plundered food and tightened their grip around the throats of the weak. That would never change. Those who wielded their martial arts to secure their own livelihoods were commonplace.

The hostile Martial Alliance was no different.

Committing such acts in Henan, where their faction was based, would displease their patron, the vassal prince. So they had come to Shaanxi. They plundered beyond their own territory to eat, drink, and train in martial arts. If they could also tarnish the alliance of the orthodox righteous path, so much the better.

That was what the Sword Star's letter said. Jung Yeonshin found it plausible.

"Grave mounds everywhere. Who made them?"

"A passing gallant hero who stopped here, or the villagers themselves, I imagine."

It was the Supreme Flame Dragon and Heon Wonchang speaking.

The boy slowly opened his mouth.

"We'll retrace the hostile Alliance's movements. We'll hunt down every one we find and take the head of the combat unit commander who led the pillaging. According to the document the Sword Star gave me, he's one of their elders. The Sky-Swimming Sword Demon, Baek Seogun."

Clad in black, he spoke as captain of the Radiant Demon Squad.

Murong Mingjun, who had been following silently as though lost in thought, immediately raised his head.

"The Sky-Swimming Sword Demon? Is that the man I know?"

More richly dressed than anyone present, he now betrayed his unease. His expression darkened in contrast to his bright pink martial robes.

"Rumors abound that he controls his sword with qi. They say the Sword Demon's blade swims through the sky. At the Henan vassal prince's sixtieth birthday banquet, he demonstrated how he could fend off the arrows of a hundred archers wielding powerful bows with a single sword. After witnessing it, the prince bestowed the epithet 'Sword Demon' on him. He said such attainment was beyond human reach."

Murong Mingjun spoke with his gaze on Jung Yeonshin. Unlike Ak Yerim, he observed the proper courtesies without avoiding the boy, yet he gave the impression of concealing intentions quite different from his polite manner.

Yeonshin did not answer.

"I've heard of him, too. Apparently even a swordsman from a secular branch of Shaolin couldn't withstand his flying sword. Since their headquarters is in Henan, masters from neighboring Mount Hua or the Zhongnan Sect would know more. The eye techniques of mediocre small and medium sects aren't reliable..."

Gongsun Min trailed off.

Other than Mount Hua and Diancang, none of the Nine Great Sects had attended the Martial Alliance gathering. Their advice was sorely missed. This mission called for killing an elder of the Thirteen Skies who commanded a martial force. No matter how he considered it, they lacked the strength.

With so many factions in the Alliance, how had they ended up with this selection? Gongsun Min wondered. It seemed the Alliance leadership must have struck a secret bargain to plot the Radiant Demon Squad captain's death.

"I know."

The boy's voice was calm. The Supreme Flame Dragon smiled faintly, seemingly satisfied with Yeonshin's brief reply.

"Indeed. His flying sword isn't what we should be worrying about. Even if he truly controls it with qi. Young Gongsun, a swordsman renowned throughout the Central Plains is bound to be more frightening with his blade in his hand. His internal power will be strongest when his palm is in direct contact with the hilt. Unless he has some special formula."

"And if his flying sword relies on a particular formula, it can hardly be called the legendary art of controlling a sword with qi. Let us leave the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon entirely to the captain."

Heon Wonchang nodded as he spoke.

By then, a single question had occurred to the Martial Alliance warriors. Zhuge Hyeon, Gongsun Min, Murong Mingjun, and even the Young Sword Empress Chwi So-ok looked at the Desolate Fortress's young captain for a moment. Ak Yerim stared outright, as though determined to capture every last flaw and strength in her eyes.

Each harbored different thoughts, but they shared one interest. Just how strong was the newly appointed Radiant Demon Squad captain?

They were the masters who would one day lead the Alliance. Their positions meant they would inevitably contend with the Desolate Fortress's young captain throughout their lives. Yeonshin was not the only one gathering information.

As representatives of the orthodox righteous path, these young warriors had to observe his every move. What sort of character did he possess? Under what circumstances did his martial arts exert their greatest power? Conversely, did he have any clear weaknesses?

'Their eyes are like awls.'

Jung Yeonshin was aware of it, too. His little game with Zhuge Hyeon's fan would not have given them a true sense of his ability.

He recalled his original mission. Ak Surim had told him to throw cold water on the soaring momentum of the newly formed Martial Alliance. The boy had not forgotten that assignment.

"Come out."

He spoke abruptly. The Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art's energy detection had clearly caught the traces of internal energy belonging to practitioners of evil and unorthodox paths.

The hostile Alliance forces that had swept through the village had not left a single grain of rice. Instead, they had stationed a small number of troops there. Those beneath the brush three zhang away or behind the roof of a house still standing were the least of it. One man brazenly stood on one foot atop a watchtower, looking down at them.

Jung Yeonshin raised his head and met the eyes of the man on the tower. Dressed in yellow, the man stood with his leg and back perfectly straight. He merely grinned.

He seemed to possess considerable martial skill. His utter stillness alone offered a measure of his attainment in Mobility Arts. Were these men assigned to stop anyone pursuing the raiders?

The boy said nothing more. He extended his left hand slightly downward, toward the sword hilt at Murong Mingjun's waist across from him. He circulated different formulas through two pressure points in the center of his palm.

Attraction and emission. The principles of drawing in and expelling intersected for an instant.

Suddenly, Murong Mingjun's sword drew itself from its sheath.

Gongsun Min's and Murong Mingjun's eyes widened, as did those of the other warriors, including the hostile Alliance master atop the watchtower. The blade's soft metallic resonance delivered a soundless shock.

The supreme master's strike followed instantly. The young Radiant Demon Squad captain flicked his sleeve once. Light flashed along the blade for a heartbeat. His pitch-black robes billowed, and the sword shot upward with a piercing whistle, becoming a chilling streak of light.

Brilliant white swordlight lanced into the sky.

THUD!

The man atop the watchtower doubled over. His body was hurled upward, borne along by the sword that had pierced his abdomen.