RUSTLE.

Robes of every color brushed against the enormous round table as figures of imposing presence took their seats. Their richly colored garments gleamed.

Every last robe was immaculate silk. Befitting orthodox regional nobles who devoted their mornings to practicing supreme arts, even their complexions were extraordinary. These were people who sweated daily in illustrious households. Not one had neglected the ritual of bathing and purification.

"The heavens were exceptionally blue. It felt like spring."

A distinguished-looking middle-aged man took the seat farthest from the door. In his left hand he held a white-crane fan with a deep-blue tassel. His snow-white robe suited his equally pale skin beautifully, and thick eyebrows framed his slender face.

He looked every bit the father of Fan Dragon Zhuge Hyeon. This was the Zhuge clan head, also known as the reincarnation of the Sleeping Dragon.

Not that he possessed miraculous strategic genius. The name meant that his appearance and bearing warranted comparison to Zhuge Liang, Marquis Wu of Shu. His spell-based martial arts, worthy of a great clan's head, had also contributed to the epithet Sleeping Dragon Reborn. Rumors even claimed he had reached a level where he could occasionally influence the weather.

The Zhuge clan head continued calmly.

"A youthful sword crossing the heavens—an almost unbelievably magnificent sight. Was it not dazzlingly beautiful?"

"..."

He was speaking of Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin.

They had gathered to discuss countermeasures. The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad had finally entered the founding ceremony. An event meant to present their alliance to the world was about to be splashed with mud.

To some of the old veterans, the domineering martial might displayed by the Desolate Fortress's boy Black rank recalled the Indomitable Hero, Ma Yeonjeok—the monster of the imperially established sect who had donned purple robes at thirty.

"I was prepared to endure the shame. It was a difficult decision, but human affairs do seem to find their proper course in the end. Our nasty little trick failed."

The Zhuge clan head smiled.

Silence fell. The mood in the room belied his expression. A chill settled over the antique round table. No one failed to realize that the Alliance's true power holder was furious.

"What of the Alliance Leader?"

A middle-aged swordsman with large, piercing eyes abruptly posed the question. It was the Murong clan head, clad in a pink robe of a deeper shade than his son Murong Mingjun's.

His hand resting lightly on his sword hilt looked oddly natural in the meeting chamber. The Foremost Swordsman of Liaodong could be forgiven any eccentricity.

"Ah, I have been getting ahead of myself."

The Zhuge clan head's smile deepened.

"Those words I recited earlier were the Alliance Leader's."

"That aloof, incorruptible wandering swordsman said that?"

The Murong clan head frowned as he asked.

The meeting chamber was solemn. Only rays of light entered quietly through the windows, dust swimming slowly through the radiance illuminating the table. No one reacted to the Murong clan head's casual reference to the Sword Star. Only a few of the rising generation, including Zhuge Hyeon and Gongsun Min, showed slight disturbances in their composure.

Zhuge Hyeon and Ak Yerim had returned safely after parting with the Radiant Demon Squad captain on West Peak Road. They had not made the needless journey to Seven Multitudes Gorge and run into the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon.

They had received a brief letter carried by a Diancang Sect spirit beast belonging to the Young Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok. They had been acquainted with her already.

'This is uncomfortable.'

So thought Zhuge Hyeon.

Whatever others might say, the Radiant Demon Squad captain he had come to know was a boy with a rather innocent side. Despite possessing sublime martial prowess at such a young age, he had listened attentively to Zhuge Hyeon.

When dealing with ordinary people, he was a boy who acted his age. He had also taken the Blue Qilin's death to heart, though he could easily have condemned him along with the entire Namgoong clan.

'Had Lightning Genius belonged to a noble clan, he would have disparaged the character of the man he killed and insisted his actions were justified. I've seen it far too often. Even in my own house...'

The young Radiant Demon Squad captain had done no such thing. He was a gallant hero as fresh and green as a new shoot. He should not be made the target of schemes like these.

Just as disillusionment rose to choke him, Fan Dragon Zhuge Hyeon heard a brief sound transmission.

"Don't let it show, you foolish brother."

The girl seated beside him lowered her eyes indifferently. Brushing her black hair, tied with sky-blue silk, down beside her neck, she gave none of the people present a glance.

Zhuge Cheonga, the Still, Deep Eyes. She was Zhuge Hyeon's younger sister.

She had made her name early as a prodigy in supreme eye techniques. She was also famous for looks as beautiful as her brother's.

At her transmission, Zhuge Hyeon corrected his expression and immediately looked toward his father. Fortunately, the Zhuge clan head was slowly nodding without looking their way.

The siblings' father spoke gently.

"Our Sword Star seems thoroughly captivated by the young Desolate Fortress captain's gifts. Is that not rather surprising? Many of Lightning Genius's well-known accomplishments were achieved through palm techniques rather than swordsmanship. A born fighter would be a more fitting description than a gifted swordsman, yet the Sword Star's eyes appear to have discerned something else."

"In truth, the Alliance Leader's private thoughts are none of our concern. It is the uninvited guest we ought to worry about. What a spectacle. His rampaging has reached a point we can scarcely overlook."

"Do share your insights, Clan Head Murong."

"I observed Lightning Genius closely and noticed a sword wound on the lower left side of his abdomen. An extraordinary sharpness lingered in it. That was no ordinary sword mark."

The Zhuge clan head smiled.

"I saw it as well. It was likely inflicted by the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon."

"Since it is not a wound that will heal readily, we may need only devise a respectable way to draw things out. The more he fights without resting, the worse his internal injuries will become. Our children may even be able to claim victory."

A colorless gleam flashed through the Murong clan head's eyes as he finished.

It was then that Lady Ye, seated at one side of the round table, lifted her chin slightly. Sunlight dappled its graceful line.

The Ye family head beside her reacted at once. He was a man neatly dressed in pure-white martial robes, like the chief steward of an illustrious household.

He raised a hand to gather their attention, then slowly spoke.

"To begin with, calling him an uninvited guest is misleading. Did we not invite him? We summoned the Desolate Fortress's envoy to enhance our Alliance's prestige—and to proclaim to the world that we had no fear of mere imperial watchdogs."

"Are you reproaching us for our clumsy handling of the decision to advance the schedule?" asked the Murong clan head.

"I am saying we need a more substantive discussion. Draw things out respectably? I can think of no suitable means... Instead, what about matches decided within ten exchanges?"

His words commanded attention. The Ye family had established itself toward the end of the Yuan dynasty, alongside the Blood Flame Cult and clans of the noble race.

Its history of running a merchant company had yielded tremendous wealth. Even after pouring vast sums into founding the Martial Alliance, it remained a principal source of funding. In short, its influence within the Alliance was considerable.

The Zhuge clan head showed interest.

"Ten-exchange matches. Are you proposing that we impose conditions on the founding ceremony?"

"Is preserving our Alliance's dignity not the issue at hand? Struggling against a boy master, losing to him, or having an established supreme master barely win after what amounts to a succession of bouts against one opponent—all would cost us dearly. If we limit the exchanges, each would fight at full strength, yet not to the full extent of his abilities. Winner and loser alike could save face. Let us take the broader view rather than fixate on one individual, the Radiant Demon Squad captain."

As the Ye family head spoke, the Zhuge clan head lightly stroked his smooth chin.

"Certainly, that might even give an inferior fighter a chance of victory against a superior one... There would be many variables. You have a point."

"We can provide any number of justifications. In these turbulent times, would preserving the strength of our righteous heroes not be a worthy reason?"

The discussion continued.

Zhuge Hyeon and Zhuge Cheonga listened in silence. So did Ak Yerim, Gongsun Min, and Murong Mingjun. They were in no position to offer opinions rashly.

The conversation among the elders who purported to move the martial world's upper echelons remained grave until the meeting ended.

The Radiant Demon Squad captain whom Ak Yerim and Murong Mingjun had once so thoughtlessly invited to a banquet clearly walked in a realm apart from the rising generation.

"I heard you became acquainted with Lightning Genius on the journey to West Peak Road."

The Zhuge clan head spoke after leaving the meeting chamber, accompanied by his two children of the rising generation. He looked straight ahead rather than at them.

Zhuge Hyeon bowed his head slightly before replying.

"We merely exchanged a few words."

"Preposterous. You could not even bring yourself to deceive the child? Your sister would have learned the name of the maid Lightning Genius fancied in childhood. Every piece of information held by a Desolate Fortress Black rank must be treated as treasure."

"... My apologies."

"Enough," the Zhuge clan head said indifferently.

"Listen, Cheonga."

"Yes."

Zhuge Cheonga, walking one step behind, answered quietly.

"We have had the Blue Qilin's body transported here again. We also managed to obtain several corpses of those Martial Alliance men slain on West Peak Road."

"..."

"Examine them. We have already identified a variety of Lightning Genius's methods, but... ten-exchange matches leave much uncertain. Look at them from a fresh perspective and report back without overlooking the slightest clue. The Radiant Demon Squad captain is very strong."

"Understood."

The girl replied without expression.

For an instant, Zhuge Hyeon's face twisted. He liked none of it: neither himself and his sister submitting to their authoritarian father's tyranny, nor his father, forever scheming under the pretext of a greater cause.

This was something he had shared with his friend Namgoong Sejin.

As young clan heads, they were strong. As warriors of the righteous path, they were weak. So it had been through all twenty-eight years of their lives.

Zhuge Hyeon watched his sister walk away with unvarying steps. An unbidden thought arose: he envied Namgoong Sejin, who had met his end on his own terms.

The clear sunlight slanted lower. An autumn breeze passed, stealing time away.

Zhuge Cheonga had to examine the bodies of those killed by the Radiant Demon Squad captain. Wounds inflicted by martial arts could tell a great many things. Marks left by crushing internal power revealed the texture of a wave of force, while trajectories preserved in sword wounds allowed one to infer a sword path.

It was a little easier for her in particular—at least when examining wounds on the living.

She had achieved mastery of the Zhuge Clan's secret eye technique at an early age. Designated the clan's eyes from birth, she had been forced to cultivate eye techniques alone. Her exceptional gifts, even among the noble clans' rising generation, had also played a part.

Even so, this was her first time analyzing martial arts for counters through traces left on corpses. Her father often pushed her and her brother beyond their limits in this offhand fashion. He taught them to pursue the family's interests while wearing a mask of chivalry.

"My lady, why have you come to a place like—"

"I was ordered to."

She answered without emotion, passed the flustered retainers, and crossed the threshold of a secluded hall. A guide was assigned immediately.

An expressionless man led her deep inside. What passed before her eyes was familiar yet strange: faint sunlight, a dark wooden corridor, the cold feel beneath her feet.

When she entered the room at the corridor's end, the family's longtime retainer took his post outside the door.

Zhuge Cheonga faced five people lying with their eyes closed. Her gaze wavered slightly.

RUSTLE.

The girl bowed twice to them. Her tied-back hair spilled down in a black stream, and her sky-blue robes brushed the floor twice.

Rising, Zhuge Cheonga gazed down at Namgoong Sejin's body. His closed eyes rested gently in his face. His pallor was striking.

Even preserved by the Maoshan Sect's spells, a corpse was a corpse. He could find no rest even in death. This was the price of being born into a powerful noble clan and enjoying its privileges.

How cruel their fates were—both the Blue Qilin's life and Zhuge Cheonga's lot.

"Setting its power aside..."

She deliberately murmured as she traced the marks of a sword's passage across Namgoong Sejin's body. She wanted to leave this place quickly. She examined the wounds reaching up to his ribs and checked the flank said to have been destroyed by a palm technique.

She engraved the martial arts of Lightning Genius, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, fully in her eyes.

A light of internal power gathered in Zhuge Cheonga's pupils. The green of leaves swept through her black eyes.

'There is an intent running through all his martial arts.'

Her eyes widened. Something approached her through the realm of intuition. The inspiration that sometimes flashed through gifted minds responded to Lightning Genius's traces, racing through a genius's energy detection.

Green sparks leaped in her eyes, a gleam brimming with intelligence.

She thought,

'Direct, desperate, and fast.'

A peculiar emotion appeared on her face.

What could a boy who could be called the greatest of his generation possibly lack? She had once thought it unfair that such talent existed in the world.

The Hwangbo clan's Supreme Flame Dragon was said to possess the greatest gifts among the noble clans, but the Solar Divine Meridians were a constitution that exacted a price.

Why had the Radiant Demon Squad captain imbued his own martial arts with such intent? As the youngest Black rank in the Desolate Fortress, he ought to have had everything.

'The wounds grew progressively deeper. That means his sword force was landing properly. The marked increase in effective hits from his waves of force means his prowess kept rising throughout the life-and-death duel... There cannot be another monster like him in the world.'

For the first time, interest appeared on the girl's face.

She deliberately nurtured that small stirring of emotion to endure the guilt of examining corpses.

Zhuge Cheonga wondered what the martial world's most perfect boy could be missing. Just as her brother Zhuge Hyeon had befriended Lightning Genius after the Blue Qilin, could she and the Desolate Fortress's boy captain come to understand each other through mutual pity?

* * *

The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad.

Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin's winning streak continued unbroken, even after he accepted the proposal for ten-exchange matches.

The boy was somewhat puzzled. This format favored him enormously, both in terms of stamina and in facing Mount Hua's Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint was the strongest master participating in the founding ceremony. He was said to be on par with Ma Jin in his prime, at a realm where his sword could make flowers bloom.

His experience with a sword would be on an entirely different level from that of the Desolate Fortress's newly appointed captain. The longer their exchange continued, the likelier defeat would become.

'That was why I meant to finish quickly. And they've made it a rule for me.'

The boy thought this as he faced the leader of the Murong clan's Ridge-Treading Sword Squad.

"I have heard rumors that you are a Grandmaster. They say all your supreme arts were tailored to your body from their inception, so it is no wonder you have displayed such might from a young age. Is it true? I can scarcely believe it."

The question came from a middle-aged swordsman in red. Beneath his broad brow were narrow eyes, their probing gleam exceedingly sharp.

The Martial Alliance's upper leadership had identified all the martial arts Lightning Genius had displayed. The Radiant Demon Squad captain's arts took the form of single strikes: explosive techniques with powerful individual blows, fueled by internal power seemingly influenced by orthodox Buddhist teachings. Such methods would have served him well in a realm where survival was the sole concern.

'The world of true masters is different.'

The Ridge-Treading Sword Squad captain surveyed the boy from head to toe.

In fierce battles between supreme masters, flow was what they contested. That was why individual forms were linked into structured fist arts, sword arts, and the like. It was also why wandering warriors could not defeat masters trained in orthodox martial systems.

Once an opponent capable of enduring isolated strikes seized the advantage through systematic swordsmanship, the other fighter could only suffer helplessly.

There had been no need for the ten-exchange rule. The leadership was at fault for prematurely fearing that defeating him might prove arduous. They had been too intent on creating a format in which Alliance warriors could save face even in defeat. Their position differed from that of the young Radiant Demon Squad captain.

The Ridge-Treading Sword Squad captain continued addressing the silent boy.

"All manner of rumors circulate because your very existence is like some supernatural abomination. Most must be nonsense. What a shame about this ten-exchange rule. Swordsmen build bonds through the vibrations of their blades, but I doubt my hand will feel a thing."

"Your tongue's sword is long-winded. Has the match begun?" Jung Yeonshin asked.

A broad smile spread across the Ridge-Treading Sword Squad captain's lips. With a relaxed air, he tapped the hilt of his still-sheathed sword.

He intended to turn the ten-exchange rule to his own advantage. He had a personal grudge against the Desolate Fortress. His plan was to put on a show of overwhelming confidence, then defeat the brat and greatly diminish the prestige of the Black ranks.

"Am I not already yielding you the distance? Come at me whenever you wish. I have crossed swords with the Immortal Wood Spirit Lord, one of your Black ranks, before, so..."

It happened then.

A breath of wind blew past. Suddenly, a sword flashed into the Ridge-Treading Sword Squad captain's vision.

'What...!'

A blade bearing monstrous martial force came to split the space between his brows. It was as though the rushing wind etched in the air had instantly become a sword.

He could not tell when it had been drawn. A storm spread from the sword tip hurtling toward him.

The wave of force was chilling enough to raise gooseflesh. His surroundings blurred. A single point filled his vision.

The Murong clan swordsman drew like lightning. There was no time to stamp his foot and root his stance. He simply slashed upward.

SWISH!

The air warped translucently along his blade. No impact reached his hand. It had been a feint, exploiting a blind spot in their psychological contest.

Only the cold sensation of a straight edge against his nape was clear.

Belatedly, he saw the boy at his side, black robes fluttering, holding a sword to his neck. Pure-white radiance spread from the blade and settled over the Radiant Demon Squad captain's eyes.

A strange transcendence surrounded the boy's entire body. His presence was uncanny.

Would Bodhidharma have looked like this had he lived as a man of the secular world? Perhaps the situation merely made it seem so.

"Your hand really didn't feel a thing! What remarkable foresight!"

The shout came from the spectators' seats. A certain good-for-nothing with a sky-blue hero's headband tied around his forehead was calling out.