Zhuge Cheonga's expression did not change at the boy's words, but the Young Sword Empress and Gongsun Min's eyes widened slightly.

The newly appointed captain of the Radiant Demon Squad had seen through the Zhuge Clan's secret eye technique. He had not merely noticed that it was active. He had even named some of the pressure points involved.

"Ha."

A faint flush rose in the Young Sword Empress's cheeks. Sitting before the table of food and drink, she toyed with her sword hilt.

It was the excitement of a swordswoman who had devoted well over a decade to the blade. Her touch, honed through long practice of the Diancang Sect's Sun-Shooting Sword Art, betrayed both competitive spirit and admiration.

'The sword paths traced by senses like those must be exquisitely delicate...'

It was difficult to gauge just how sensitive the energy detection of the boy in the seat of honor was. Lightning Genius seemed to have been born with the upper dantian senses that her teacher, Diancang's sect leader, had awakened through training.

His talent let him leap in a few steps over the years accumulated by the established masters. He drew time toward himself. Nothing else could explain it, unless his martial gifts had crossed into the realm of supernatural abilities.

Even if he lost to Mount Hua's Sword Saint in the coming days, few would think less of him. His future was bright.

'It was practically a succession of challengers wearing him down, yet he defeated twenty-three Alliance warriors in a row. His forms must be extraordinarily precise, however fierce the fighting gets.'

A coordinated attack by multiple opponents might be another matter, but a succession of one-on-one bouts would not bring him down. The Martial Alliance leadership should be realizing that by now. At this point, they would be pinning their hopes solely on Mount Hua's Sword Saint and the Eon Clan's Foremost Fist.

Neither could be called the strongest of the Nine Great Sects or the noble clans respectively. But they were the most powerful pieces available at the founding ceremony. The world was vast, after all. The great factions were scattered far apart, and their generational hierarchies were intricately entangled.

How would this boy captain fight them?

That question was steadily heightening the excitement of the heroes gathered in Hanzhong. The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword, the Eon Clan Fist, the Infinite Blossom Hand. These were the supreme arts that would be displayed on the founding ceremony's tournament platform. The Young Sword Empress quietly steadied her breathing.

Meanwhile, Zhuge Cheonga, who had been gazing silently at the boy, slowly parted her lips, a faint radiance still lingering in her eyes.

"... I have been discourteous. I wasn't trying to pry into your secrets, Captain."

The light faded from her eyes. The faint glimmer of internal power vanished completely.

She had reached a level where she had to consciously stop the technique. She had the potential to become a supreme master one day. Jung Yeonshin regarded the girl his own age with interest.

"You train it constantly?"

"Yes."

"Your energy waves were stable. It looked as though you'd reached Great Completion."

"... My attainment allows the internal energy throughout my body to respond to the formula. There is still room to advance as my energy reserves increase and my body grows. Compared with your mastery of so many different martial arts..."

"Tell me your real business. My martial arts aren't illustrious yet. They won't serve as a plausible excuse. A Zhuge Clan warrior, debating the sword with me? Your elder brother might be another matter."

He spoke with the Fan Dragon, Zhuge Hyeon, in mind. He owed the man a debt he would have to repay someday. He had received a fan at their very first meeting.

On West Peak Road, Hyeon had opened the way to the first form of his nameless sword art. Of all the people he had befriended in the Alliance, he was the finest.

As the young captain renewed his resolve to repay that kindness, Zhuge Cheonga gently shook her head.

"That isn't quite right. Desolate Fortress's Black ranks are divine swords watched by the whole world. The moment you put on black robes, the reputation of every martial art you possess changed. The Blue Qilin, who named your supreme palm technique, wouldn't agree with you either."

"Are you using the Blue Qilin as a means to an end, like Ak Yerim? To see what you want to see from me?"

The boy asked calmly.

He did not unleash his presence. The Go board left by the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon, the teachings of the Ten Precepts of Go that Zhuge Hyeon had given him—his cultivation of body and mind had deepened a little further.

He would not rashly draw the sword of sacrificing stones to seize the initiative. His opponent need only refrain from crossing the line.

The Supreme Flame Dragon, watching the young captain, marveled inwardly.

'He's grown more frightening.'

He had become a sword that concealed its keen edge within its sheath—and at the level of a supreme master, no less. Internal energy was driven by intent. The settling of one major concern meant that his core energy had grown stronger, however slightly.

Cultivation of body and mind. He had independently grasped a training method of the great houses. Even after donning black robes, he was still growing stronger.

What would happen if he acquired swordsmanship capable of fully expressing that tempered mind?

With his broad experience, the Hwangbo young clan head could readily imagine it. The resulting sword paths would be extraordinary.

Yet to the Supreme Flame Dragon, none of this seemed to be Zhuge Cheonga's concern.

"I'm curious about you."

Her expression was composed, her tone without inflection. Was that simply her nature? No emotion showed on her face.

It suited a warrior whose primary discipline was an eye technique. She had been trained to keep others from noticing her probing gaze.

"About what?" the boy asked.

Zhuge Cheonga spoke calmly, seemingly untroubled by the captain's indifferent tone.

"My clan is obsessed with uncovering everything about you. Our practitioners of spell-based martial arts have been busy trying to capture your combat paths, calculate your trajectories, and discern the shapes of your internal power's fluctuations. We've learned a great deal. Most importantly, your forms..."

Her lips moved slowly.

"They're hurried."

"..."

"You never fight for more than a hundred exchanges. That has been true of every battle in which you've demonstrated your prowess. Your arts specialize in swift, decisive battles, which is why, I am told, those betting on the founding ceremony's outcome are flocking to Mount Hua's Sword Saint. Even with a limit of ten exchanges, your opponent is the Sword Saint. Mount Hua's swordsmanship is renowned for being all but flawless."

"Did you come here to pick a fight?"

Heon Wonchang abruptly interjected. His fingers twitched as though he were preparing something.

Jung Yeonshin, who had been listening in silence, gave a slight shake of his head.

"What are you trying to say?"

"If you ask for my help, I'll teach you the principles of a special spell-based martial art. It will let you weave your martial arts into an organic whole. That will be a great help against a Sword Saint of the Nine Great Sects, a fully developed supreme master. But I want something in return."

"..."

"Come with me after the founding ceremony ends the day after tomorrow. There is something I want to show you."

"You seem to have quite a few grievances against your clan."

A sky-blue gleam crossed the boy's eyes. His upper dantian's energy detection flashed, catching the minute signs in Zhuge Cheonga's demeanor. Impatience and anxiety.

It was unusual in itself that she had immediately divulged her clan's internal affairs. This girl intended to turn the Zhuge Clan upside down, on whatever scale, by borrowing the sword of the Radiant Demon Squad captain, who was free to act independently of the Alliance.

He did not know what the Zhuge Clan's cherished daughter had seen. And how had she examined forms unleashed by a supreme master so far above her?

Internal energy arts naturally reflected their practitioner's disposition. The more deeply one mastered them, the more pronounced that became.

"You think that once I accept your seemingly trivial proposal, I'll act as you wish."

"I've seen your character. What I intend to do is honorable. Though I can't explain it just yet..."

She was bold.

Zhuge Cheonga's jet-black eyes shone brilliantly. Though she had withdrawn her eye technique, they seemed to glow.

The boy recalled the Blue Qilin shouting at his clan's warriors. He also thought of Zhuge Hyeon, who had been reluctant to mention his father. Orthodox warriors raised under noble clans.

This girl seemed to be planning what those two young men had been unable to do.

"I need to rephrase that."

"What...?"

"You're the one asking me for help. Don't approach this as a negotiation. Your standing is far below that of Desolate Fortress's Radiant Demon Squad captain."

"..."

"You may not realize it, but your offer has already become useless. You haven't even fully grasped my martial arts. After the founding ceremony ends, come to me with humility. And then, don't talk in circles. No vague promises, either."

The boy rose smoothly and dismissed his guests.

"Go home. I need to meditate."

For a long while, Zhuge Cheonga remained seated, sweeping back the black hair tied beside her collar.

Touching her hair seemed to be a habit of hers. All the while, she gazed steadily at Jung Yeonshin, as though trying to determine whether he was bluffing or sincere.

"What?"

"... I have been discourteous. I deeply apologize for presuming to judge your character, Captain."

When she finally rose, the Young Sword Empress and Gongsun Min were ushered out along with her.

"Isn't this a little harsh? I haven't had a single drink!"

"May fortune favor you in battle! I'll keep everything that happened today to myself!"

A gust of commotion swept through. The food laid out on the drinking table remained almost untouched.

The Supreme Flame Dragon, the only one who had eaten a few morsels, leaned over slightly. He did not so much as glance at the departing guests.

"A demure yet audacious young lady. A few words exchanged, and the sun's already sinking. Anyway, are you really going to be all right? The Sword Saint is a bit... Wasn't your original mission to humiliate the established masters? Frankly, you've already done that. The Great Restoration Pill is still an issue, though."

"..."

"Mount Hua's Sword Saint, the Perfected One Cheon Joo... Even I've heard more than enough about him since childhood. They say he paints twenty-four plum blossoms with a single sword. If that's true, it means he possesses peerless swordsmanship that covers all eight directions in three layers. No wonder those wretched gamblers are running their mouths. Plenty of them have uncanny eye techniques of their own, even if they're all mad."

"That's rich, coming from a drunk and a poppy addict."

The boy shook his head. The Supreme Flame Dragon grinned.

"You'll need luck even if you give it everything, so hold your hilt lightly. Mount Hua's swordsmanship is famous for its dazzling variations. If tension makes you stiff, you'll be swept away without a chance. Even Thousand-year Silk won't escape unscathed from the Sword Saint's waves of force. It's a good thing we brought spare martial robes."

"Thank you for the advice. Now stop disturbing me. I'm going to meditate deeply."

"Silence, Nameless."

Heon Wonchang lifted his chin and added his support.

The Supreme Flame Dragon narrowed his eyes, giving the great hero of Desolate Fortress an odd look. The gaze he fixed on those white martial robes was anything but ordinary.

The elderly unranked disciple muttered, "I'll definitely have to skip that one."

* * *

"Mount Hua has been the greatest sword sect under heaven since ancient times. Alongside Wudang and Zhongnan, it has produced peerless swordsmen whose names endure in martial history. The Perfected One Cheon Joo over there will join them."

"Aren't you only saying that because you're from Shaanxi? In my hometown, we call Wudang's Perfected One Hyeongong the greatest swordsman under heaven. Though in truth, it might be Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword Squad Leader..."

"At any rate, the day has come. I've been dying to see when the Radiant Demon Squad captain's bold flag would fall."

"Who did you bet on?"

"They say the Perfected One Cheon Joo's Plum Blossom Sword is flawless. How many swordsmen in the world could be better than the Sword Saint? There can't be many here in Hanzhong, at least."

"So it's people like you who drove down the payout."

"Isn't the new Radiant Demon Squad captain known for his fist and palm arts? I know that palm technique called Radiant River is one of the world's supreme arts. But he'll have a hard time breaching the reach of a swordsman at his level or above."

"The masters killed by his Infinite Blossom Hand were no small names..."

"By that measure, the Sword Saint clearly has the advantage! He's an established supreme master. The heads of evil and unorthodox warriors that have fallen amid the fragrance of his plum blossoms... They must number in the hundreds. Mount Hua's swordplay is upright and stern."

Such conversations mingled with a thunderous hubbub.

An enormous crowd had gathered, incomparable to those before. The match between Mount Hua's Sword Saint and the Radiant Demon Squad captain had been scheduled first. It was the most closely watched contest of the Martial Alliance's entire founding ceremony.

On the tournament platform, Jung Yeonshin thought of the Great Restoration Pill, and of his grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok.

"I've heard the rumors. Is Ma Jin all right?"

The middle-aged swordsman before him asked the question. He had sharp features and a terrifying energy wave. Plum blossom embroidery stood out along the edges of his white martial robes.

They were immaculate Mount Hua Taoist robes, yet there was nothing priestly about him. His entire body felt like one enormous blade. The space between Yeonshin's brows ached as though a sword tip were piercing it.

This was the supreme master who had accompanied Yoo Hyun as his guardian when they first met. Now they faced one another as opponents.

"He should be well."

The boy answered with his uncle's planned internal-power prosthetic arm in mind. Mount Hua's Sword Saint, the Perfected One Cheon Joo, nodded silently.

"... I deliberately refrained from visiting you. It seems like only yesterday that you helped Yoo Hyun absorb the Purple Radiance Pill... But I believe we should save our reminiscences until after the match."

"You're right."

"Raise your sword."

Jung Yeonshin did not answer.

SHING.

He calmly drew the divine sword Northern Radiance, lowering its blade. The hilt's touch grew warm in an instant.

He carefully studied the Perfected One Cheon Joo before him. Mount Hua's Sword Saint was drawing his sword with an aloof, dignified bearing.

For an instant, even the wind seemed to hold its breath. The pressure he radiated was immense.

The Sword Saint looked different now that Yeonshin had reached Black rank. He could understand the gamblers' remarks that the Supreme Flame Dragon had dismissed as loose talk.

He had heard that the sword arts of the Nine Great Sects flowed long and unbroken. The young captain did not care.

He need only begin by cutting through that sublime structure, so that his sword tip could touch his opponent even once.

'Ten exchanges? Hardly.'

He had no intention of imitating the ceaseless continuity of orthodox swordsmanship.

The boy thought: end it in two.

"... I can see what you're thinking. How very audacious."

Despite his words, the Perfected One Cheon Joo smiled in satisfaction. He seemed pleased by the younger swordsman's competitive spirit. There was a reason Ma Jin had treated him warmly and considered him a worthy rival.

The noble swordsman who had descended from Mount Hua leveled his blade at the boy's solar plexus.

The clouds were bright.

Already, it was White Dew—the solar term when the air was clearest of all twenty-four.

The autumn wind blew regardless of human lives, flowing clear and pure. In the meantime, Jung Yeonshin, too, had moved forward like the turning of the four seasons.

He had been the burden of the Jeong Clan Estate.

Not here. Here he raised his sword as Desolate Fortress's Radiant Demon Squad captain.

Much had changed. Until now, the boy had raced to seize hold of his own life. Now things were a little different.

He was rousing his internal power to safeguard his maternal grandfather's body. Within his heart, a wheel of light spun with tremendous ferocity.

'First form.'

He recalled the sword path, clearer now than before. Northern Radiance's snow-white tip pointed to the sky as he lifted it above his head.

A sword arising within his mind overlapped with Northern Radiance in his grasp. At the same time, swordsmanship capable of fully holding the auspicious energy of the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art began to bud.

It was as though sunlight had descended upon a current of wind. Jung Yeonshin's presence grew distinct.

WHOOOOSH!

Waves of force from his Wind Body movement technique swept in all eight directions. A fierce wind drove away the dust.

The robes enveloping the boy fluttered black, seeming to stand out with exceptional clarity.

It happened the instant Mount Hua's Sword Saint traced a blossom with a colorless wave of force from his sword.

The young captain's figure blurred and warped. Sword light flared in his grasp.

"What is that!"

"What in the...!"

In that fleeting instant, a stir of alarm erupted to one side. The masters who spoke of the affairs of the world reacted.

The canopy over the Alliance leadership flipped over and flew into the air. As the established masters, their energy waves rising involuntarily, fixed their eyes on the tournament platform—

Light raced forth.