“Truly formidable. An unbelievable level of mastery, at your age.”

Ma Yeonjeok exclaimed in admiration, striding forward as though he had discovered a sublime work of art. As he examined Jung Yeonshin closely, undisguised wonder spread over his wrinkled face. It was enough to make the handsome boy beside him visibly uncomfortable.

“Greetings, Grandfather. I am Jung Yeonshin of the Radiant Demon Squad.”

He spoke calmly, clasping his hands in a martial salute and bowing his head slightly.

“...?”

Not a sound came until he raised his head. He could feel the atmosphere against his skin: confusion, dismay, interest...

Ma Yeonjeok’s beard, which covered the front of his purple robe, began to tremble.

“You...”

Ma Yeonjeok, the former Divine Sword Squad Leader, was a purple-robed warrior of the Desolate Fortress—the pinnacle of its white, blue, black, and purple hierarchy. The intuition of supreme masters who had reached the higher realms and opened their upper dantian was said to be terrifying.

He looked at Jung Yeonshin, who had called him Grandfather, and at the faintly smiling Desolate fortress master. There was no way he could fail to make the connection.

“J-Jeong. The Jeong surname. The Jeong Clan Estate.”

“This is our first meeting.”

Unlike Ma Yeonjeok, whose face was beginning to fill with shock, Jung Yeonshin remained composed.

His mother’s family had never visited Xinye County. He had been told that they had not attended her wedding, and there had been no visits after she died giving birth to him, either.

It was the sort of story one heard in common gossip. They had all but severed ties with the daughter who married into a family beneath their station. Naturally, all that remained was the name of being in-laws to the desolate’s ma clan.

“You’re my sister’s son?”

Looking aside, he found Ma Jin staring with eyes so wide they seemed about to split.

Come to think of it, they shared a surname. There was a reason Ma Yeonjeok and Ma Jin had not bothered exchanging greetings. Father and son.

‘In a martial clan, the head’s word is law. Did he forbid them from meeting her under the clan rules?’

A powerful family with no proper foundations, he thought. Jung Yeonshin gave a small smile.

“You spoke of being my teacher, but you were my uncle. Are you my mother’s younger brother, then? Or her elder brother? I know nothing of her family tree. I was an unwanted child even in my own family, before it was destroyed.”

“...”

“I understand. A black-robed warrior of the Desolate Fortress would hardly have time to visit a house where his sister no longer lived.”

The jest had a barb. Now beginning to enter the ranks of the masters, Jung Yeonshin possessed keen senses—keen enough to have heard the conversation drifting from the fortress master’s office before he even reached the door.

[“... You have a grandson through your daughter, as I recall.”]

[“Fortress Master, he cannot escape the blood of that paltry estate. We will be fortunate if he does not disgrace the desolate’s ma clan. This boy is my successor. He may come from a collateral branch, but his aptitude is outstanding.”]

He was grateful for that conversation. One look at Ma Yeonjeok’s troubled face told him all he needed to know. A purple-robed supreme master would grasp Jung Yeonshin’s accomplishments at a glance—and would therefore realize that he had overheard them.

‘My mother’s family did save me from the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord. That’s enough.’

He was making steady strides as a master of the Desolate Fortress in his own right. Even the fortress master had acknowledged his potential.

He would observe the proper courtesies. But nothing more.

The Mas appeared not to have known that the Jeong Clan Estate had fallen. They had taken no interest whatsoever, and he had no desire to demean himself by seeking closeness now. Why cling to them when he could earn what he needed on his own?

‘Complicated relationships like this won’t help my martial arts.’

He needed to settle matters here and now. He looked at the former Divine Sword Squad Leader’s deeply somber face.

“... Fortress Master. Might I speak with that child alone?”

Jung Yeonshin immediately interrupted Ma Yeonjeok’s request.

“I am the son of a daughter who married out of your family. As a warrior of the Desolate Fortress, I respect your achievements, Grandfather, but any further private conversation would make me uncomfortable.”

“...”

A daughter who married out of the family was no longer one of its own. That was how they had treated her. What could they possibly have to say?

‘They’re so desperate for a successor that they even adopted one.’

Now that he was immersed in martial training, he had no wish to burden himself with troublesome family affairs. His experiences at the Jeong Clan Estate had been more than enough.

The Desolate fortress master, who had been watching with interest, slowly spoke.

“Lightning Genius of the Radiant Demon Squad. I like your spirit.”

Her eyes curved slightly, a lovely sight. Jung Yeonshin bowed his head a little. He was somewhat puzzled to have apparently won her favor, but her support put him at ease.

Then it happened.

“I cannot accept this! Someone like him is Grandfather’s direct descendant? How can he be so rude to the former Divine Sword Squad Leader?”

It was the boy who had stood there looking uncomfortable all this time. The anger in his eyes was fierce. He seemed to have forgotten that he stood before the Desolate fortress master.

“I don’t need your acceptance. I’m not a member of the desolate’s ma clan. I’m Lightning Genius of the Radiant Demon Squad.”

Jung Yeonshin remained calm throughout. Suddenly, he recalled Heon Wonchang’s remark: the martial world was a place full of shameless people who introduced themselves by their own epithets.

“How dare you!”

An involuntary chuckle had apparently been taken as provocation. Enraged, the boy turned to his adoptive grandfather.

“Permit me to challenge him. I will prove he is unworthy of being your blood!”

“I have no reason to oblige,” Jung Yeonshin replied.

“If you ask me for instruction, I can grant that. But I have no obligation to prove my worth to you or your family. Not even my captain can give me a personal order like that.”

His words looked down on the boy from a position of utter superiority. As Jung Yeonshin met his gaze squarely, the hem of his white robe fluttered. The spirit he exuded even without intending to spoke for itself: he was now a powerful warrior.

While Ma Jin maintained his silence, the boy snorted in disbelief and raised a knife-hand as though ready to strike at any moment.

‘He primarily practices fist and palm arts.’

A gleam of interest entered Jung Yeonshin’s eyes. He had noticed the pair of gauntlets hanging at the boy’s waist.

At the same time, he withdrew his imposing presence. The waves of qi vanished in an instant, as though snuffed out, demonstrating his ability to release and recall his internal energy.

“Forgive my discourtesy. I have behaved without restraint.”

He clasped his hands and apologized to the Desolate fortress master for recklessly displaying his qi.

Amid his confusion, Ma Jin looked proud, while Ma Yeonjeok’s expression grew darker still.

“Enough arguing.”

Her lips moved quietly.

“Yeonjeok is like a dear friend who has stood beside me for many years, and Lightning Genius is a promising subordinate. This conflict between you is troubling. It would be best to settle it as martial artists. Each of you shall stake something the other desires. Do you agree?”

Jung Yeonshin studied the Desolate fortress master’s beautiful face. Her expression gave him little clue to her intentions.

She smiled.

“Lightning Genius. I know there is nothing in this for you. As a friend of the former Divine Sword Squad Leader, I shall grant you one request, whatever the outcome.”

“Even that?”

Jung Yeonshin asked boldly. He meant the Fruit of the World Tree.

The Desolate fortress master’s smile deepened.

“That alone remains difficult. Even a request from the retired Yeonjeok would not change matters. His achievements as Divine Sword Squad Leader have already been rewarded in other ways. But I can teach you one of my Famed Ultimate Techniques.”

“Your martial arts...!”

She was offering instruction from a peerless master who stood close to being the greatest under heaven. They were discussing a rare, world-shaking opportunity right before his eyes. It seemed no ordinary matter to the desolate’s ma clan’s adopted son, either.

Beside the startled Ma Yeonjeok, greed crept over the boy’s face. He looked as though, if he won, he would demand martial instruction rather than follow his adoptive grandfather’s wishes.

‘I can see exactly what you’re thinking. My mother’s family is interesting, too, taking someone like that as their successor.’

Was his aptitude really that exceptional? In any case, the terms had certainly improved, so Jung Yeonshin readily nodded.

“I’ll do it.”

* * *

They headed for the training ground behind the main keep. The fortress master’s rare appearance outside drew attention, but no one dared follow.

Ma Yeonjeok edged closer, trying to find some way to speak to him, but Jung Yeonshin boldly took his place at the Desolate fortress master’s side. She chuckled.

“Make yourselves comfortable. I am the only one who uses this place.”

Her training ground was extraordinarily lavish. Even its flooring was unusual. Weapons of every description, seemingly beyond price, stood in rows on stone racks, and the vast expanse of floor was entirely marble. It seemed almost a shame to perform a forceful stomp on it.

‘The spoils they say she took after destroying the Dali Kingdom in Yunnan.’

The Desolate fortress master was known as the emperor’s divine sword. On several occasions, she had erased the royal houses of minor kingdoms or great martial factions showing signs of rebellion. That was why her name invariably came up in discussions of the greatest under heaven.

Where she stored such overwhelming might in that slender body, he could not fathom.

“This should be a good place to watch.”

The fortress master stopped quietly at one side of the training ground. Her long, lowered lashes were like a painting, and her pale green cloak, which reached her ankles, fluttered gently in the spring breeze.

‘Huh?’

Jung Yeonshin paused for an instant. Only now had he noticed the treasured sword at her waist. He realized that until this moment, he had perceived it not as a sword, but as part of nature. This was nothing like the Body-Sword Unification he had only begun to learn.

‘That gives me chills. What realm is that?’

Just then, the Desolate fortress master turned and met his eyes. Her red lips formed a smooth curve.

“You have a good eye.”

“Forgive me.”

Standing with Jung Yeonshin in the center of the training ground, the boy sneered. He had already donned a pair of luxurious ink-black gauntlets—equipment befitting the successor of the desolate’s ma clan, which was also renowned for its fist arts.

“Distracted by the fortress master’s beauty? You lowborn wretch.”

“Aren’t you from a collateral branch?”

“How dare you...!”

Jung Yeonshin offered no further reply and gently closed his eyes.

‘This last mission taught me.’

It was a certainty he had gained by killing the Blood Master Swordsman. He could win the world tree’s fruit for himself.

Training in martial arts was said to be like scaling a thousand-fathom cliff with nothing but one’s body. That was what orthodox martial artists said. They did not even consider sorcery, Blood Art, or demonic arts—which harmed the practitioner as well as others—to be martial learning.

Only by building one’s martial arts wholly and faithfully could one reach the ultimate height, they said. It was like spiritual cultivation in pursuit of the Way.

For Jung Yeonshin, it was different. His path was not a sheer precipice but a well-laid staircase. Breathing within the realm of martial arts, he was no different from a fish swimming in the deep sea.

‘The Radiant Demon Squad is enough.’

Such was the wilderness of martial learning unfolding before him since he entered the Desolate Fortress. It was so fertile that he could scarcely imagine wanting for anything. He could sow seeds of his own making and grow whatever he wished.

That was why he did not need the desolate’s ma clan.

“Come.”

Opening his eyes, Jung Yeonshin beckoned slowly.

“Hah!”

The enraged boy did not hesitate. Kicking off the ground, he rushed forward in an opening stance Jung Yeonshin had never seen.

‘Core energy is extending from all four limbs.’

THUD!

Jung Yeonshin deflected the fist that shot toward him at astonishing speed with the back of his hand, but the force of its Burst Discharge was tremendous. He had to increase the strength at his elbow enormously in that instant.

WHOOSH!

The sweeping aftermath of the force tossed his clothing about. Perhaps the boy had consumed precious spirit medicine; his internal power far surpassed Jung Yeonshin’s.

He immediately imbued the energy within his body with the principles of the Classic of Initiating Transcendence. The core energy circulating throughout him overlapped to amplify his strength at the moment he needed it.

From then on, he relied on feeling. His hands extended along the combat paths of the radiant demon arts, beginning to interrupt the boy’s fist techniques at every joint.

THUD! THUD! BOOM!

The desolate’s ma clan’s fist and palm arts were direct. Every blow was heavy, yet the chain of forms never broke. Just when the boy seemed to have committed all his power, a wave of force would erupt from his opposite fist. So many principles blended harmoniously that the art could only feel all the more powerful.

‘So this is a true power fist.’

Despite his seemingly rash character, the boy had properly learned his prestigious family’s martial arts. The sublime movements that emerged from time to time were deeply impressive.

... Enough to give Jung Yeonshin fresh inspiration.

“Why aren’t you drawing your sword?”

“Because your fist art is outstanding.”

He answered absently as he wheeled like a leaf and struck to interrupt the boy’s elbow.

He was working backward. After seeing his opponent emit force, he recognized that such a manifestation was possible and began discerning the method of circulating core energy that would produce it.

The process was completely reversed.

“You bastard!”

BOOM!

The marble floor caved in. A gale burst forth with the fist that followed the boy’s forceful stomp, but Jung Yeonshin lightly slipped past it and landed like a leaf borne on the wind.

“I’ve thought of a power fist of my own. Ten more moves should do it.”

Pale blue lightning flashed in his eyes.

Some distance away, three masters watched the match. Each wore a different expression at Jung Yeonshin’s Mobility Arts, so reminiscent of the noble race. Ma Yeonjeok furrowed his brow, his face a tangle of emotions.

“He claims he can defeat him in ten moves from there? However extraordinary his aptitude...”

“No. What he means is probably...”

For a moment, Ma Jin could not continue. At last, he forced his lips to move again.

“He doesn’t mean he’ll finish the match in ten moves. He means ten moves will be enough to create it.”