What terrifying grandeur of spirit.

He had proposed a contest against the Martial Alliance itself. He meant to take on the entire Alliance alone.

Jung Yeonshin deliberately smiled, taking Heon Wonchang's advice. Even the slightest smile, he had said, would be a provocation they could hardly ignore.

Yeonshin could not understand why, but the great hero of Desolate Fortress had proven the effectiveness of his social tactics several times before.

He had barged in to change the structure of an enormous event. He could hardly expect to get his way easily.

Heon Wonchang had told him he would have to keep pressing them with words, without respite.

"..."

A terrible silence fell.

A fluttering flag that seemed to repel every ray of the pouring sunlight. A boy looking down upon the Alliance's warriors.

He had displayed Desolate Fortress's towering might at the Martial Alliance's own founding ceremony. He said he had just returned from a chivalrous expedition as captain of the Radiant Demon Squad.

"That young nobleman is the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad?"

"He drove out the Martial Alliance...?"

Some people cautiously began to speak. They appeared to have relatively little connection to Murim. Their appearance alone suggested as much: the Taiyang points at their temples were sunken or flat, and they wore hemp clothing rather than martial robes.

If the young man in the hero's headband who had first thrown the flag was telling the truth—if the rival Martial Alliance's army of martial artists had truly withdrawn—then this was no ordinary blessing for the common people of Hanzhong.

Many merchant journeys had ceased because even the escort agencies' armed strength could no longer be trusted. The problem directly threatened their livelihoods.

"There have been quite a few people making it safely into the city lately."

"A master of Desolate Fortress has done us such a kindness...!"

"Go find out! Now!"

A thick cloud of dust rose from one corner. Activity broke out in every direction.

Commoners and monks who had struggled to exchange news with the outside world, small merchants affected even indirectly by the flow of goods through Hanzhong, people from great merchant companies and escort agencies—different expressions spread across all their faces.

Confusion mingled with admiration.

Some ran off without even looking back. Such was the influence of the Thirteen Skies of the evil and unorthodox paths. They were enormous factions that most sects in the martial world did not even attempt to resist.

Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin had earned the epithet Hidden King Among Blossoms through his dealings with the Thirteen Skies in Sichuan. Defeating a great faction's combat unit was a major event anywhere.

"..."

The Alliance warriors remained silent. Sitting or standing in a daze, they stared at the young Radiant Demon Squad captain's faintly mocking smile.

Then the young man in the hero's headband spoke from one side of the spectators' seats, enunciating every word.

"A captain of Desolate Fortress does not speak falsely. Nor does he barter with chivalry. He walks a martial path he can proudly present before our august Fortress Master, quietly carrying out deeds of righteousness. The Radiant Demon Squad captain's achievements recounted here today are true. So too is his pledge to honor this founding ceremony alone. Not a word shall prove hollow."

With the bearing of a bold hero, he extolled his captain.

It was a declaration of war. A warrior of Desolate Fortress had issued a challenge.

Another faction's flag had been planted in the heart of the orthodox coalition, yet the sight and the sequence of events felt exhilarating rather than vulgar. It was an utterly forthright provocation.

Some among the audience marveled.

"His words flow like a mountain stream. Isn't his tongue a sword in its own right?"

"Anyone from Xuzhou would know that young man. Heon Wonchang, the great hero of Desolate Fortress. A chivalrous warrior who protected the people from blood fiends. I never thought I'd see him here... So he serves under the Radiant Demon Squad captain."

A newly founded faction invited the masses to such an occasion to proclaim its purpose through martial prowess.

Only by fully meeting the swords of martial artists bound to it by debts and grudges could the event acquire meaning. That was why it was called a founding battle.

The justification Heon Wonchang presented was overwhelming. It suited the very purpose of the ceremony. This could not be dismissed as a mere intrusion.

"Truly audacious. No, magnanimous."

"A contest between the Martial Alliance and Desolate Fortress..."

The crowd's gazes split in three principal directions: toward the young Radiant Demon Squad captain, the Alliance leadership's viewing seats, and Zhuge Cheon, who had yet to leave the platform.

Their eyes carried an unspoken demand. Surely they ought to accept?

Even if no one dared say it openly, the pressure was palpable.

"..."

The acting chief strategist, Zhuge Cheon, the Illustrious Master of Wind and Water, pressed his lips tightly together. If he spoke rashly, he might betray his discomfiture.

That would not do. Before him stood the Radiant Demon Squad captain, an invited guest who had materialized as an unwelcome intruder. As the man representing the Martial Alliance's public face, he could not afford to appear weak.

'Caught between advancing and retreating.'

This was a momentous matter. He could not accept lightly. Yet refusing the Radiant Demon Squad captain's proposal would also gravely damage the Alliance's dignity.

Zhuge Hyeon glanced toward the canopy sheltering the leadership. An answer from the clan head was needed. This was not a matter for the acting chief strategist to decide.

Just then, the previously silent Radiant Zen Sword, Seop Uncheol, spoke. He was the established master who had stepped forward with the Foremost Hero of Ruzhou to begin the fourth day's matches.

Beneath his handsome brows, a light of internal power flashed in the eyes he cast askance at Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin.

"It seems Desolate Fortress's foremost virtue has changed. Is a glib tongue now its chief qualification, rather than martial skill and chivalry?"

"Aren't you orthodox people the ones who enjoy debating the sword?"

The young captain in black answered beside the flag fashioned from a snow-white robe.

He stood with his hands behind his back, receiving hundreds of gazes. He had tidied himself with the wave of force from his movement technique. Not a speck of dust remained, from his black leather shoes to the robe covering his body.

He had shaken it all off with a wind of his own making. Such was the bearing of a Desolate Fortress combat unit's commander.

The young supreme master did not even glance aside. Without looking at either the Radiant Zen Sword or the Foremost Hero of Ruzhou flanking him, he spoke.

"Stop your pointless prattle and draw."

It was an attitude rarely encountered among the righteous orthodox factions. Several spectators gasped.

Only the hems of the jet-black robe enveloping the boy swayed peacefully.

His words and bearing were astonishingly arrogant, yet his fine features made him look noble.

WHOOSH

A light breeze blew in, passing invisibly over the Desolate Fortress captain's collar. Somehow, that breeze seemed exceptionally pure and clear.

This was a world with few diversions. People commonly walked a hundred li to behold a magnificent view. Exceptional looks shone all the brighter on an occasion like this.

A strikingly handsome gallant hero could readily inspire affection, even if his conduct was somewhat arrogant. He was a very rare spectacle.

Many whispered among themselves.

"How splendidly bold..."

"Are all Desolate Fortress's high-ranking warriors like that? He looks like someone from paradise."

"Now I understand 'fruit thrown until it fills a carriage'... I'd have thrown him an armful myself."

The saying about fruit filling a carriage came from an anecdote passed down for centuries. People enchanted by the beauty of Pan An in the Three Kingdoms era had filled his carriage with fruit.

Young noblemen like Gongsun Min and daughters of distinguished families openly showed their admiration, paying no heed to the Alliance's feelings.

With his achievements, his looks, and his rightful justification, the Radiant Demon Squad captain had drawn public opinion to his side.

Refusing him now would be the ultimate disgrace.

'This is disastrous...! How strong is the Radiant Demon Squad captain? They said more than half the rival Alliance's martial army returned unharmed with the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon. Surely we have masters with a chance of winning, but he's not even twenty... We cannot let the crowd see renowned Alliance warriors struggling against him.'

As an increasingly anxious Zhuge Cheon exchanged sound transmissions with the leadership's viewing pavilion, all expression vanished from Seop Uncheol's face.

He had been born into a distinguished family that had enjoyed martial renown in Hanzhong for generations. Today, the Zhuge clan head had promised, would be the Hanzhong Seop Clan's day at the founding ceremony. He intended to display his martial might before the world.

The head of Hanzhong's foremost powerful clan was his elder brother-in-law. His wife's brother was the Zhuge clan head.

The match schedule had been adjusted. The Eon Clan's Foremost Fist and Mount Hua's Sword Saint had been pushed back to the following day or later.

As a master from a prominent local family, Seop Uncheol hungered for fame. Most martial artists lived on the honor their martial prowess won them.

The Martial Alliance's founding ceremony was his opportunity. So many outsiders had gathered here. He had been waiting only for the moment when he could bask, body and soul, in the admiration of his fellow martial artists and the common people.

This was no time to let some greenhorn interfere.

Here and now, he could not retreat anyway. To preserve his dignity, he had to fight even if he lost.

Those bastards from Desolate Fortress had made it so. They had been meticulous indeed. A cold gleam passed through Seop Uncheol's eyes.

"Let's see what you can do," he said.

The pride of established masters often ignored differences in renown. So it did now.

The accumulated achievement of long years became more than mere martial learning. It became life itself: a master's pride, the record of his years.

That remained true even against a supreme master of Desolate Fortress's Black rank. No middle-aged martial artist would deny his entire life without first testing himself against his opponent.

"Come," said the young Radiant Demon Squad captain.

Seop Uncheol did not answer. He silently raised his left hand and was just wrapping it around his sword hilt when a shout rang out.

"Wait a moment!"

The middle-aged man opposite Seop Uncheol stamped once. A heavy vibration briefly shook the platform.

It was a weighty martial stomp. So Jun, the Foremost Hero of Ruzhou, had originally been the Radiant Zen Sword's opponent.

"You mean to change the format of the founding ceremony so hastily, here and now? I cannot agree to this!"

"Please stand aside for a moment, Great Hero So. I, Seop Uncheol, shall uphold the Alliance's dignity."

"This is not something to decide so rashly! It is a matter of great consequence!"

Having shouted as though delivering a rebuke, So Jun turned to Jung Yeonshin.

"Our founding ceremony has another four days remaining. To my knowledge, more than forty people will display their sublime martial arts during those four days. They are supreme masters whose epithets are known throughout the world. Every one of them is worth a hundred men. All possess outstanding skill."

"..."

"Even at a modest twenty exchanges apiece, that is six hundred exchanges. Six hundred breaths of high-level combat. You would do well to think this through, Captain. However profound your internal energy's refinement, no one could endure that without suffocating. No one would dare blame you for taking back your words."

So Jun spoke calmly. Unlike his voice, his thin lips trembled slightly.

The Radiant Demon Squad captain's unexpected arrival was bound to steal everyone's attention. That would not do. The proper course was to make him face reality and send him off the platform.

'He may win a few matches in succession before he falls, but...'

If it began now, he himself would merely be swept aside by the captain.

The gazes of numerous warriors and assembled heroes, including So Jun and Zhuge Cheon, who had paused some distance away, converged on Jung Yeonshin.

"I am..."

The boy spoke as he stroked his sword hilt.

"...one of Desolate Fortress's seventeen walls. A citadel you must surmount if you intend to oppose the Fortress."

"..."

"As Desolate Fortress's envoy, I shall show your Alliance due courtesy. Tomorrow, the day after, and until the founding ceremony ends, I shall exchange moves with you beneath this flag. You may use me as your touchstone. Consider it an opportunity to broaden your understanding through the Radiant Demon Squad captain's martial arts—to learn how sharp they are, how hard they are. For I myself am the gift sent to your Alliance for its founding ceremony."

At last he took his hands from the flagpole and sword hilt, slowly clasping them behind his back. His black hair swayed along with his black robe.

Outrageous arrogance. Words that invited battle.

THUD!

Unable to listen any longer, Seop Uncheol stamped his foot. No martial artist could endure such a provocation.

The Radiant Demon Squad captain had unmistakably challenged the entire Martial Alliance. He had forced his way through the formalities and pried open a gap in the founding ceremony.

Now he had to be considered a full participant.

"Is your sword as strong as your glib tongue?"

Seop Uncheol charged as he drew, gripping his sword in his left hand. A sharp wave of force erupted before he had even unleashed his strike.

The dust rising beneath his feet was shredded apart.

At last, it had begun.

The crowd held its breath. In an instant, the founding ceremony's entire dynamic had changed. This was a battle between the Martial Alliance and Desolate Fortress.

How much could that young Radiant Demon Squad captain handle? The Radiant Zen Sword was Hanzhong's foremost sword prodigy.

Even if the boy won a hard-fought victory, what would he do about the opponent after that, and the next?

'A left-handed sword.'

Jung Yeonshin turned to face Seop Uncheol, who rushed toward him with lightness skill and thrust his sword.

The Radiant Zen Sword. His epithet included the character for radiance. As though those words praised his swordsmanship, his extended posture was perfectly aligned.

Body-Sword Unification. Wind roiling at the sword tip swept toward Yeonshin from every direction. Its sheer momentum seemed enough to slice his skin.

Vast though the world was, opportunities to face a left-handed sword were rare. Left-handed swordsmen generally exploited that fact, cultivating dazzling variations in their moves.

Seop Uncheol appeared to be such a swordsman. His sword tip never stopped wavering, yet he skillfully kept power behind it.

'I can tell from the opening stance. The Hanzhong Seop Clan. Worth including in the Comprehensive Compendium for Breaking the Righteous Path.'

Watching him steadily, the boy grasped the scabbard below his waist with his left hand.

His right closed around the hilt. Riding the core energy rising from his heart, the power of Burst Discharge gathered in his palm.

The Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art swirled gently within his grip. It felt warm.

"Hup!"

Seop Uncheol drew breath. Five paces away, he lowered his upper body. His sword tip targeted Jung Yeonshin's flank.

Core energy exploded from the Yongquan point in the sole of the foot he had planted and extended behind him.

The platform shook violently, sending fragments of stone surging in every direction.

BOOM! WHOOOSH!

Amid the roar, the boy drew his sword as well.

The blade of the divine sword Northern Radiance rose in splendor. Sunlight seemed to chase after it and coil around its length.

Rays of light streamed from its edge. Only for an instant. Then Northern Radiance vanished from sight in Jung Yeonshin's hand.

HUMMM!

A hazy streak of light rippled. Before the boy's outstretched hand, a radiance like a feathered cloud etched itself into the air.

It precisely met and deflected the tip of Seop Uncheol's charging sword, shattering the wave of force emanating from the blade.

It was formidable skill. Even after that, the Radiant Demon Squad captain's sword force raced onward like a gale.

"...!"

Seop Uncheol's eyes widened. As he hastily leaned backward, the glossy hair hanging down on either side of his neck was severed.

A terrible, wintry blast swept past his nape and soared upward.

BOOOOM!

A thunderous sound erupted in midair—the aftermath of the sword strike's Burst Discharge.

That single stroke filled the surrounding silence with shock.

Before anyone knew it, the boy stood with Northern Radiance pointed forward. His left hand remained behind his back, while the tip of the snow-white divine sword touched the space between Seop Uncheol's brows.

He looked as though he were instructing an inferior practitioner.

Jung Yeonshin glanced at So Jun, the Foremost Hero of Ruzhou, standing to one side, and spoke evenly.

"You said forty men."

He did not lower his voice. Long veins stood out on the boy's arm where his sleeve had lifted.

Jung Yeonshin lowered his leveled sword and gave it one short shake.

White light wavered faintly along the blade—the residual wave of force from his strike.

He moved Northern Radiance. The blade returned in a luminous arc, scattering silver light before sliding into its sheath. The small sound rang out with peculiar clarity.

CLICK.

"Forty exchanges should suffice."

The young Radiant Demon Squad captain murmured the words.