The final match of the founding ceremony.

This was unlike the bout with Perfected One Cheon Joo. Only after the new captain of the Radiant Demon Squad had defeated forty-five opponents did the noble clans bring out Eon Hwaryeon, the Lord of Martial Fists.

The flag of the great hero of Desolate Fortress fluttered in the very heart of the Alliance. Even its leaders must have had no other choice.

His body already warmed up, Jung Yeonshin faced the Alliance's final trump card.

He had unleashed the forms of Infinite Blossom Hand in sequence. Radiant wheel qi had been circulating through him before he even stepped onto the platform, and fewer than two breaths passed between the first form, Vortex, and the third, Fist Blossoms.

The Eon Clan's Foremost Fist possessed a truly solid barrier of internal energy.

Her protective force qi was tremendous. Eon Hwaryeon had cultivated the discipline of giving core energy tangible form throughout her entire body.

As a fist practitioner, she was worthy of overshadowing the renown of countless swordsmen.

The slovenly drunkard had vanished.

Standing on the platform, she seemed something numinous. Invisible currents flowed powerfully over her entire body.

She appeared to have raised both her fist arts and her protective force qi to the realm of divine techniques.

The moment the match began, she closed in without hesitation, erasing the distance he needed to draw his sword in a single rush.

The boy did not mind. Close-quarters combat had been his intention from the start.

He deflected her hand with the first form, Vortex, and drove Formidable Wall into her abdomen, only to encounter a strange rebound, as though he had struck a moving swamp.

His wrist nearly bent back. The practical core-energy structure characteristic of the noble clans was generating tremendous protective force qi.

Jung Yeonshin immediately wrapped radiant wheel qi around the Inner Pass pressure point inside his wrist. He had to protect the bones, muscles, and ligaments of the joint, including his wrist bones, in layer upon layer.

This was his first encounter with a fist practitioner in the Black-rank realm. There were an extraordinary number of factors to consider.

Eon Hwaryeon's eyes troubled him, too, her hair streaming forward as she retreated in short steps and studied him.

For some reason, the Zhuge Clan's secret eye technique, which Zhuge Cheonga had demonstrated before, showed in her gaze. A faint blue gleam held Jung Yeonshin within it.

It remained there even as he employed Radiant River's internal-energy intricacies in his arm. He even felt as though she were deliberately leaving an opening.

ROOOOAR!

The power raging from his palm was fierce. The Blood Art and Dharma power that had sprouted within his radiant wheel qi were bound together through the principles of a sorcerous formation.

Extending from the wheel at his heart, streams of spiraling force ground through the platform as they advanced.

They grew steadily more violent, right up to the moment he launched the palm strike at Eon Hwaryeon.

The form that had symbolized his invincibility was complete. Yet he had not brought its power to its full height. He had chosen a compromise.

Using the unfettered flexibility of radiant wheel qi, he had shortened Radiant River's particular weakness: an execution time extraordinarily long for such high-level combat.

Its power had diminished with it. Even so, the wave of force was strong enough to make the air tremble.

Then it happened.

A hand slipped gently beneath his forearm, cool against his skin.

It took only an instant. Ebony hair filled his vision.

Eon Hwaryeon had suddenly stepped forward, bending low to slip past Radiant River and seize his forearm, lifting it.

Even the protective force qi over her face was so solid that the light in her eyes remained clear despite the gale of martial force pouring from Radiant River.

Her languid eyes approached like a treasured sword. The instant her jet-black pupils gleamed—

BOOOOOM!

Radiant River exploded overhead. A monstrous shock wave surged down his arm to his feet.

The floor seemed to crumble beneath his heels. His vision jolted, and for a brief moment, the entire platform shook.

Radiant River—a form that compensated for its flaws with sheer power.

The palm technique he had always managed to land, one way or another, had missed. This was the very first time.

The title Eon Clan's Foremost Fist seemed to rush over him with the lingering force of the blast.

She had struck directly at the blind spot of a discharge-based martial art. Shielded by her sturdy protective force qi, she had fearlessly plunged in and changed the palm strike's point of impact.

The skills of an experienced Black-rank fist practitioner were truly frightening.

The hand gripping his forearm slid straight down to his shoulder.

Jung Yeonshin's eyes flashed. Countless techniques she might unleash at that moment sprang to mind. Pressure-point sealing, a One-inch Strike, a puncturing technique—he was vulnerable to any of them.

WHOOSH!

He activated Wind Body, twisting from his feet first. Radiant wheel qi spiraled from his Yongquan points, resonating with the tiny muscles throughout his body.

A small movement gave rise to a violently rotating Mobility Art. The young captain of the Radiant Demon Squad became a whirlwind.

His black robe spiraled with his body. The Burst Discharge of his entire body surpassed Eon Hwaryeon's grip. He slipped free of her hand and opened the distance.

WHOOOOSH!

As Jung Yeonshin stopped spinning, the wind unwound from his body. One fierce surge of wind brought silence in its wake.

A battle between exalted masters could steal the souls of all who watched. At a glance, the two even appeared evenly matched.

"..."

The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad and the Lord of Martial Fists stood motionless, facing each other.

Two steps separated them—a distance at which the Eon Clan's Foremost Fist could unleash a consummate move the instant Jung Yeonshin tried to draw his sword.

To respond in time, he had no choice but to remain barehanded.

Eon Hwaryeon was keeping her word from Blue Crane Tower to the letter. She had said she would have no qualms about pressing her body against his.

The boy gazed steadily at his opponent.

He could not tell how deep Eon Hwaryeon's defensive cultivation ran. He noticed how neatly her hair had settled back into place, despite the violent gale of that wave of force.

It meant she had cloaked it in core energy from the outset.

A supple yet solid barrier of internal energy enveloped her entire body. The Eon clan master seemed to possess even the Zhuge Clan's eye technique.

She had woven together martial arts specialized for close range. The pressure she presented was immense.

'She seems inferior to Perfected One Cheon Joo at full strength, or the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon, but...'

That meant nothing. All three were masters who had trained far longer than Jung Yeonshin. Eon Hwaryeon's strengths were clear, too.

Her defensive cultivation was of a different order, and the structure of her energy was exceptionally well suited to enveloping her entire body.

What was her weakness?

As the boy sank into thought, she spoke.

"Your protective force qi can't keep up with your internal energy, can it?"

Eon Hwaryeon smiled. Unlike at Blue Crane Tower, her speech was not slurred.

Wit flashed in her clear voice, bringing only her bearing as a supreme master—the pride of the noble clans' Alliance—to the fore.

"It felt thin beneath my hand. I could practically feel your bare skin."

She gently flexed her scarred fingers, utterly unconcerned by the gazes of the crowd packed around the platform.

She had just demonstrated her formidable presence as a supreme master. Her taunt instead drew cheers from some of the assembled warriors.

"Your core-energy control was strangely slow, too. Only those keen senses, as if you could read a move ahead, were frightening. Now I see you have quite a few flaws for a supreme master. And as for that palm technique..."

The corners of her mouth rose further.

"I find it hard to agree with what that child of the Namgoong clan supposedly said. That it will one day vie for supremacy under heaven? Well...?"

"..."

"Your palm technique has run too far ahead of its time. So long as the martial arts of the great orthodox schools maintain their unbroken flow, it will struggle to shine. All the more so when you stand among masters. It depends heavily on the course of the fight, unlike the ancient supreme arts of prestigious houses. The composition of your martial arts is still shallow."

The martial arts of the noble clans were said to lie midway between those of the Nine Great Sects and the unorthodox sects. Whenever they were deployed, they blended seamlessly into actual combat.

They pursued certain victory, however long the battle lasted. That was why Eon Hwaryeon had spent so long studying Jung Yeonshin earlier.

She had confirmed that, apart from his sword forms and Radiant River, he had no means of penetrating her protective force qi to land a direct blow.

"Among your peers, no one can oppose you save perhaps the young cult leader of the distant Ming Cult. But on a stage encompassing all under heaven, who can say? Your eyes aren't on your peers, are they? They encompass the martial world. You will have to roam the Central Plains as captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, and none of the opponents you face will be easy."

"The blood relations of prestigious houses generally talk too much."

Jung Yeonshin parted his lips.

"The only things worth learning from them are the few tricks that broaden my knowledge."

"Show me whatever you like. This is how I see it. You outrageously planted Desolate Fortress's flag here and built your martial reputation. If I am to break both that reputation and that flagpole, an ordinary spectacle will hardly suffice."

Eon Hwaryeon's smiling face looked relaxed.

She had completely countered the captain's Infinite Blossom Hand. Her smile had grounds.

Her arms, hanging to either side of her sleeveless martial robes, rose to chest height as she assumed a fist-art opening stance.

The tendons of her forearms, tapering toward her wrists, displayed the degree of refinement that rendered her impervious to heat and cold.

Even beneath the hot autumn sun, her skin was notably smooth. It pulsed faintly, attesting to the profound breathing of her internal cultivation.

She spoke almost in a whisper.

"Child, come at me again. You have five exchanges left."

"... I hear those eyes of yours are excellent at prying."

Jung Yeonshin spoke slowly.

"Then I shall change the way I see as well."

Suddenly, white light rippled in the boy's eyes.

* * *

Nanyang Prefecture, Henan Province.

A quiet pavilion stood open on all four sides. Two people sat facing each other across a table of wine and food.

One was a young woman, the other a man of the noble race.

The woman's appearance was unusual. Lustrous gray hair barely covered her nape.

As the breeze brushed its ends against the pale back of her neck, her lofty yet free-spirited air suited her remarkably well.

Her beauty, which suggested she might only just have turned thirty, carried a powerful dignity.

"It seems the league leader didn't make trouble for you. Even with half the martial force you led gone."

The man spoke with a little of his chest exposed between the folds of his green robe. His slovenly bearing was unlike what one would expect of his noble race.

His long, exceptionally black hair gave him a decadent air.

His ears, jutting like sword points through his hair, were flushed. He looked as though he had been drinking in broad daylight.

He was the master of the Low Gate.

"Hmph."

Henan Province's Sword Exalted, Baek Seogun, the Sky-Swimming Sword Demon, gave a quiet snort.

"The Martial League has no master who can replace me. Trouble? Out of the question."

"Do you know that in a real army, losses on that scale count as annihilation?"

"He was an opponent worthy of it."

"Ah, the new captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. I hear he's setting Hanzhong ablaze these days. My organization is watching him, too. The emergence of a rising powerhouse is always cause to sit up and take notice," said the master of the Low Gate.

Baek Seogun's frost-cold expression changed. A faint smile touched her red lips.

"I never imagined Banak's son would come to command the martial world. I thought he would raise him well, but this exceeded my imagination. He has grown wonderfully as a martial artist, too. Shameless though it may be, my heart nearly swelled with pride. I never tired of recalling it all the way here."

It was true.

She reflected on the subtle principles of Go that Jeong Banak had taught her when she was a maidservant.

Jeong Banak's son embodied the principle of sacrificing stones to seize the initiative. It was an aggressive approach to life.

His father's looks and teachings had both passed down intact. To Baek Seogun, it had been an exceedingly precious sword form.

She had abandoned the Jeong Clan Estate to cast off her lowly life, yet she had realized that the time spent in that insignificant station had not been in vain, even now.

Through Lightning Genius, the life of Henan Province's Sword Exalted had become whole. It had been precious time.

"He truly raised him well, and the boy has grown astonishingly well."

She murmured her feelings in a gentle voice. The words had escaped without her realizing it.

The Low Gate master's expression turned peculiar.

"Hmm, raised him well? I wonder."

Baek Seogun's pale brow furrowed. Cold seeped from her shadowed eyes beneath their dense lashes.

"I find that question troubling. If I say it is so, you need only accept it."

"No, it's just that there are so many rumors about the new captain of the Radiant Demon Squad..."

He trailed off. The corners of Baek Seogun's mouth lowered slightly.

"Do not hide your meaning from me. Speak plainly."

"After Lightning Genius made his name, my organization activated its covert network as well. He's a blood descendant of Desolate's Ma clan, is he not? Once he distinguished himself, we assumed he would become a towering figure in the martial world and dug into a great many things. We even questioned the common folk of Xinye County, where the Jeong Clan Estate stood. Something those lofty members of the Tyrant Sword Tribe never bothered to do."

"And?"

"It seems his upbringing wasn't quite so pleasant..."