“Did you notice anything strange when you fought the Eon Clan's Foremost Fist?”

Zhuge Cheonga's voice was clear and pleasing to the ear. Its resonance seemed to tickle his ears, reminding him of the Desolate Fortress Master. Having fully mastered her secret eye technique, she seemed to have core energy extending from her Tongziliao points all the way to the back of her head.

Yet her expression did not match her level voice. Her impassive face was oddly stiff.

“Strange?”

Jung Yeonshin repeated the word as he rubbed his left hand, where no fabric hung. The left sleeve of the black robe he had inherited from Ma Jin had been torn away along with his uncle's arm.

Whenever he faced or thought of a formidable enemy, he became freshly aware of that empty space where the sleeve should have been. His bare left arm brought home the weight of a Desolate Fortress captain's position.

“You said hearing you out would mean fighting elite martial artists. Does this involve the Lord of Martial Fists, Eon Hwaryeon, too?”

“Yes. Without question,” Zhuge Cheonga answered quietly.

She had a purpose in doing so. She knew her words needed to be persuasive. She was trying to move the captain of the Desolate Fortress's Radiant Demon Squad.

Even the Lightning Genius himself could not act lightly. A supreme master of the Black realm served as a strategic weapon in wars between factions.

The Alliance did not show it, but its wariness of the Radiant Demon Squad Captain was immense. It was like harboring a Thunderclap Bomb in its heart.

Even the Eight Great Families struggled to retain two or more masters of that caliber, however great their prestige as powerful martial houses. Beneath the clan heads, these were the people who truly elevated a family's renown.

She could not regard him as merely a boy her own age. Zhuge Cheonga understood that perfectly.

'One person's testimony is hardly enough to move someone like him.'

Treat him carelessly, and even a noble clan's cherished daughter would suffer for it. She had to begin with something Jung Yeonshin, the Radiant Demon Squad Captain, would find convincing.

Swallowing against a dry throat, Zhuge Cheonga studied the boy before her.

“Eon Hwaryeon thoroughly neutralized my fist and palm arts. She was a fine martial artist.”

The boy answered calmly. Quite some time had passed since he had created Infinite Blossom Hand.

Unable to unite his essence, qi, and spirit, he had to rely on a variety of martial arts to hold his own in the Black realm. Eon Hwaryeon's attacks had shown him new combat paths. Infinite Blossom Hand could advance further. The Alliance had accomplished what the Desolate Fortress's Law Enforcement Squad had not.

Appreciation inevitably colored his tone. Whatever the Eon Clan's Foremost Fist said or did, her abilities as a martial artist deserved recognition.

“A fine martial artist...”

Zhuge Cheonga gently bit her lower lip, an expression of emotion she had not shown before.

Born with exceptional perceptiveness, she had nevertheless lived a life of repression beneath the Zhuge clan head's tyranny. Even now, she was watching the Radiant Demon Squad Captain's mood. One thought kept circling through her anxious mind: What if he refused? She had no clear alternative.

But the boy possessed energy detection that served in place of social perceptiveness. His brow creased slightly.

“I told you not to repeat yourself. I told you not to speak in vague abstractions, either. Get to the point. As captain, I will make the judgment.”

Zhuge Cheonga's eyelashes trembled. No one outside her family had ever spoken to her that way.

Was it because the spiritually imbued core energy of his divine technique suffused the boy's voice?

His plain words were unlike her father's, yet her lips parted of their own accord.

“... I examined the bodies of those you defeated. On the Zhuge clan head's orders. I calculated your sword paths in detail from the trajectories left in their sword wounds, and traced the texture of your waves of force from the marks left by your crushing power. Eon Hwaryeon was given the counters I devised.”

“Bodies?”

“The wounded body of the Blue Qilin, Young Master Namgoong, is here at the Alliance too.”

The girl spoke quietly, but with difficulty.

Jung Yeonshin's expression vanished. His brows had drawn sharply together at the word “bodies,” but he asked no further questions.

In an instant, the upper dantian beneath his Baihui point dissected every aspect of Zhuge Cheonga's disposition.

Was she telling the truth? What intent lay beneath it? No, her ulterior motives did not matter. The intuition of his upper dantian was accepting her words as true.

Was it because his Baihui point had widened further? The sensation came with startling clarity, as though a power of the noble race had manifested.

Slowly, the boy reflected on the unfamiliar sensation.

The autumn wind suddenly turned cold. It seemed to plunge in a curve through the crown of his head. The waves that had risen in his mind settled in an instant, becoming as still and clear as a mirrorlike pool.

It felt as though his reason and heart were in accord. Had he grown a little since his uncle lost his arm?

Or perhaps the turmoil in his heart, stirred by his limbs' conspicuous growth of late, had heated his Baihui point.

Jung Yeonshin had secured two justifications.

Before moving, he made his reasons for acting clear: allowing the Martial Alliance's plunder of commoners, and researching counters through corpses.

Together, those two offenses could bring down the Zhuge clan head, however lofty his reputation. The boy rationalized it to himself.

The Radiant Demon Squad Captain was not acting out of personal anger.

Jung Yeonshin slowly opened his mouth.

“I know your family's Enchantments are laid everywhere. Lead the way.”

“Infiltration is impossible. The only option is to break straight through.”

“Because of the Enchantments, too?”

“Yes. Unless you enter by the prescribed procedure, the guards will know. The same applies if the sorcerous formations or trap device techniques are destroyed. Following the open route would be faster.”

The story of Zhuge Cheon humiliating himself while testing the Radiant Demon Squad Captain with an Enchantment was already well known.

Zhuge Cheonga had made her plan on the assumption that the Lightning Genius possessed a means of neutralizing sorcerous formations. Even so, martial power at an advanced realm was essential.

“My father and the Murong clan head are away. I don't know why, but they left the Alliance around this hour even during the founding ceremony. It has to be now. If we delay even a little longer, the clan heads will return and stop us. We need to retrieve the body and secure our justification to remain safe after taking action.”

Just then, Zhuge Cheonga's gaze suddenly swept the surroundings as she whispered rapidly.

“But where are the others...? The White Qilin, Young Master Namgoong, and the Supreme Flame Dragon would be a great help...”

“They went to receive the honored guests in my place. I have a match to prepare for.”

“Ah, the Sichuan Tang Clan...”

Leaving Zhuge Cheonga's sigh behind him, the boy set off. He flung open the Court of Graceful Fragrance's main gate and strode over the threshold.

The girl hurried after him and took the lead. She did not give him a map of the Alliance.

To replace her father once he fell for acts contrary to chivalry, she had to expose the clan head's corruption as a gallant hero herself.

Having mastered her eye technique, she had planned everything, even what would come afterward. She was trusting the character of the Radiant Demon Squad Captain that the Blue Qilin's wounds had revealed.

They said the people of the Central Plains loved gambling. Zhuge Cheonga had that streak in her too.

'If I fail, I'll never see the light for the rest of my life.'

That was her thought. She would be worked like a slave endowed with an eye technique.

She had staked her life on the Radiant Demon Squad Captain, for her own sake and her elder brother's.

She wanted to live an upright life as a member of the orthodox martial world.

“This way.”

Zhuge Cheonga's fingertips touched Jung Yeonshin's wrist, a soft sensation against his skin. Then her fingers gently closed around it.

Feeling his clear gaze beating down on the back of her neck, she lowered her head slightly and offered an explanation.

“We need to draw people's attention. If we seize the body somewhere deserted, it will be useless if the clan heads hurry after us and cover it up. If people hear that the Zhuge family's daughter and the Radiant Demon Squad Captain are romantically involved... they'll follow us anywhere. There are more people here than ever thanks to the founding ceremony. I'll be sure to clear up the misunderstanding afterward.”

“Have you never trained in lightness skill? Just walk faster.”

It meant nothing whatsoever to Jung Yeonshin at that moment.

That remained true when they reached the broad avenue lined with the Alliance's halls. He did not care what gazes settled on him.

The white sensation of his upper dantian burning incandescent was eating away at his reason. The Blue Qilin was a lifelong rival whose equal he would never find again.

Jung Yeonshin's proud self-respect as a martial artist had suffered a deep wound, accompanied by righteous fury.

He had decided how to act. All that remained was to strike with his sword.

The crowd following furtively behind them, whispering among themselves, was beneath his notice.

He had no attention to spare for how titillating a romantic scandal between two young people at the martial world's highest heights might be.

Those dozens of people would have nothing but idle rumors to chew over until Jung Yeonshin reached twenty.

For now, the boy saw only the Zhuge Clan martial artists who had blocked their path.

They guarded the sole gate in the wall that encircled the cluster of halls like a fortress rampart.

The vast complex spread out behind them attested to the noble clan's might. Even the curves of its roofs were as elegant as sculpture.

“My lady. Captain. Please stop here.”

Five of them. They were looking past Jung Yeonshin's and Zhuge Cheonga's shoulders, putting their duty before their young mistress.

The crowd gathering behind the pair seemed to concern them more. All wore wooden expressions, except the middle-aged man in green at their head. He had a strikingly square jaw.

“This area is reserved for our family's private use. Setting aside how the two of you became so close, if you're out for a stroll, I would recommend the lakeside to the west of the Alliance.”

His smiling face held both embarrassment and interest.

Jung Yeonshin spoke.

“I hear you're desecrating the body of the Blue Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin.”

“...”

“As the martial artist who inherited his sword intent, I must see for myself. Move aside.”

“How preposterous. I've heard nothing of...”

The man spoke with an impassive face. Jung Yeonshin tightened his grip on his wooden saber.

He had seen the man's expression crumble for an instant before he swiftly restored it. His suspicions deepened.

“Surely the master who conquered the founding tournament cannot behave so outrageously. Are you serious?”

“Spare me the speeches. I have nothing more to say.”

“What a frightening joke. Please don't. This is a vital part of the Alliance. Even a captain of the Desolate Fortress would come to regret it.”

Despite his words, his tone was jocular. So were the words that followed.

“Rather... I practice the swift sword myself. Your match against Perfected One Cheon Joo was most impressive, but your swift sword from high guard caught my eye more than that destructive final move. To think a strike you can unleash at will could be as fast as lightning! I've never seen a sword form like it in my life. If it has a name, please tell me.”

He was changing the subject.

His eyes belied his tone. As he spoke, he made his hostile stance clear.

So did the four men gripping their sword hilts behind him. They were prepared to fight rather than open the way.

Turn back, or we cut you down.

The clan's martial artists conveyed it through their waves of qi.

“Is the name of a sword move more important than this captain's business?”

Jung Yeonshin asked with a smile. With his empty hand, he caught Zhuge Cheonga's sleeve and pulled her behind him. Soft silk brushed his palm, then slipped free.

The question from the man before him had reminded him anew of what his new sword move meant.

An opening form was generally a means of measuring one's opponent.

An intensely focused swordsman's gaze could reach the point of judging all the training an adversary had accumulated. A swift sword honed to mastery drove opponents to their limits, forcing them to reveal their worth.

There was a term: discerning judgment.

To judge right and wrong, superiority and inferiority. To examine one's opponent thoroughly.

Yet at this moment, the intent in the hand gripping his wooden saber was devoted wholly to honoring one person.

Not even the chill autumn air could settle the veins standing out on the back of his hand.

The form had its name. It was a statement the Lightning Genius, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, would deliver to the Martial Alliance: You and I have very different ways of examining the dead.

The first form.

“Qilin's Judgment.”

The boy gave his answer through his teeth.

STEP.

Rage surged with his advancing foot, and the waves of force from his full-body Burst Discharge rose more violently than ever.

The guards reacted quickly as well. They seemed to realize at once that there was no room for compromise.

“Don't let him in!”

“Don't give him the first strike!”

Their swords flashed free. All five moved identically, as though they were one.

The Zhuge Clan's Three Principles, Five Elements Sword Formation. A secret Enchantment for coordinated attacks. It seemed to combine the force of their presences.

Dust billowed beneath the charging men's feet, swelling endlessly with their formless waves of qi.

The young Radiant Demon Squad Captain paid it no heed. He had already raised his wooden sword above his head, into a high guard that reached proudly toward the heavens.

He stamped the ground.

THUD!

Hairline cracks spread like an earthquake from the leather shoe he had driven into the ground. A solid rebound returned through his sole.

WHOOOSH!

The Burst Discharge power added by his stamping step set the wooden saber vibrating violently. His black robe began to billow.

The speed at which his full-body Burst Discharge converged into a single sword path was staggering. A gale settled upon the wooden saber held straight aloft.

It took an instant. As the boy's eyes grew still, the brown blade in his right hand fell, tearing the air apart.

KABOOM!

It was as though an incendiary shell had exploded. Amid a storm of whirling force, the wooden saber scattered upward like dust.

The martial artists flew in all directions as though struck by a compressed typhoon, smashing through several walls before collapsing.

None had taken a direct hit from the sword path, yet not one of the fallen could rise. Only a couple with powerful protective force qi could even gasp for breath, their faces aghast.

The great enclosing wall began to collapse.

RRRUMBLE...

Thick dust rose with a thunderous roar. The vibrations beneath their feet felt like rain surging upward in reverse.

STEP.

Jung Yeonshin moved forward silently, then glanced back at Zhuge Cheonga.

The girl flinched.

The Radiant Demon Squad Captain's eyes flashed jet-black.

On the arm exposed beneath his missing left sleeve, veins stood out from the aftereffects of channeling his power, pulsing fiercely. It contrasted sharply with his neatly covered right arm, where the black sleeve hung down.

This was living, breathing power in the realm of strategic weapons for wars between factions.

“Keep walking,” the boy said.