“Your martial uncle must be getting old. I forgot something important.”

Sage Cheon Joo spoke, looking down slightly at Yoo Hyun. They had left the Court of Graceful Fragrance, where the Desolate Fortress envoys were staying. Their footsteps sounded quietly against the yellow earth, steeped in the autumn of the Mid-Autumn Festival, as martial uncle and nephew conversed in low voices.

“Oh... You said you had some other business with Yeonshin. If you forgot, perhaps there wasn't any?”

Yoo Hyun tilted his head up slightly and raised his jet-black eyebrows as he asked.

His martial uncle, the Sword Saint, was renowned for his strictness even within their sect. He never forgot anything he had to do, and tended to hold Mount Hua's disciples to the same standards he lived by. Only martial artists outside the sect saw him as a noble swordsman. Within it, he was the living King of Hell.

'He might order me into closed-door training when we get back. Especially after crossing swords with Yeonshin.'

The corners of Yoo Hyun's mouth drooped helplessly.

His martial uncle was unusually gentle with Jung Yeonshin. It was truly unprecedented. Winning the Sword Saint's favor as a swordsman was no easy task—harder, one might say, than finding an actual plum blossom among Mount Hua's barren stone peaks.

The junior disciples back at the sect might feel jealous if they witnessed it, just as Yoo Hyun himself had become isolated from his peers after becoming the sect leader's successor-disciple at a young age.

'Doesn't that happen at the Desolate Fortress? He's even worse than me, yet he seems to get along with his subordinates. Though the fact that those subordinates are the White Qilin and the Supreme Flame Dragon is ridiculous enough.'

Noticing his martial nephew's peculiar expression, Cheon Joo stroked his head once.

“Wasn't the Radiant Demon Squad captain's blade shaping remarkable?”

Cheon Joo thought of the Lightning Genius. What a strange boy. He was no longer the white-robed warrior who had been under Ma Jin's protection in Xi'an. His progress was so astounding that Cheon Joo could not imagine what hellish battles he had endured in the intervening time.

Should he count himself fortunate that such unfathomable talent at least belonged to the Desolate Fortress? Had the boy been born among the evil and unorthodox paths, he would have become a scourge upon the world.

Yoo Hyun's pale face grew sulky.

“I can make a double-edged blade, not just a single-edged one. I've already mastered the first ten forms of the Plum Blossom Sword Art.”

“You can say that after seeing the Radiant Demon Squad captain's sword forms? Wielding such powerful waves of force would be an exceedingly difficult task for you. You're ten years too early.”

“Yeonshin does live several times faster than I do. But I don't know if it's ten times. No, I'd rather not know. It gets in the way of my training. It only makes me impatient.”

“Comparison breeds inner demons. Quietly build upon your accumulated achievement, and one day sunset will bloom from your sword. Excellent. You've grasped the profound meaning of wall-facing meditation. As soon as we return, start by assimilating the Purple Radiance Pill's energy within you. I'll prepare grain-abstention pills.”

“Martial Uncle?”

They had been martial uncle and nephew for many years. Only after exchanging a few more idle remarks did they reach the matter at hand.

Yoo Hyun adjusted the white ceremonial cap perched over the topknot on his head. In talking through his sense of inferiority over his friend's talent, he had even disarranged that symbol of his Taoist calling.

“You meant to tell Yeonshin about the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

Cheon Joo lightly rubbed his side. Watching him with shadowed eyes, Yoo Hyun spoke.

“Will that man try to attack Zhongnan again? He acts as though no one in the world can stand above him now...”

“The Qingcheng Sect Leader has passed away. Having faced him myself, I found that he had tempered his swordsmanship with the principles of the world. Had we not been at the foot of our mountain, he would have cut through my heart rather than the Plum Blossom Sword Formation. The Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord has become a peerless swordsman capable of attempting anything. Our sect, too, must prepare. The Tyrant Sword Tribe will rise again... and a cutting wind will sweep through Shaanxi.”

The Sword Saint's tone was graver than ever. Suddenly, Yoo Hyun glanced back.

“He's Yeonshin's sworn enemy. We could still go back...”

“It is better to tell him later. A swordsman facing a battle must hone his body and mind. I fear that talk of his enemy might instead dull his blade.”

“Ah.”

Yoo Hyun nodded in understanding, then paused.

“They say a single stroke from the Sword Star can split a mountain peak... Well, someone at the Desolate Fortress's Black rank should at least be able to save face. And there's no chance the Alliance Leader would strike to kill.”

“My own pitifully low skills are the problem.” The young Taoist muttered self-deprecatingly, then suddenly raised his head.

“More importantly, I heard the Tang Clan has only just arrived. Why did they come so late? The founding ceremony is already over...”

“Sichuan is in turmoil as well. I hear the Lightning Genius slew the Pure Demon Alliance's principal masters, and the Ten Perfections Sect Leader is critically injured. To dominate Sichuan, the Tang Clan need only overcome the Dragon-Slaying Alliance... but apparently it recently consolidated into a single sect called the Golden Wing Sect, rather than remaining an alliance. Its resistance cannot have been insignificant. What puzzles me, rather, is why the Tang clan head has personally traveled all the way here to Hanzhong.”

It happened then.

Cheon Joo's eyes grew somber in the midst of his explanation.

“Yoo Hyun.”

“Yes?”

“In the distance, the Radiant Demon Squad captain's qi waves are spreading like raging billows. Something seems to have happened.”

* * *

Jung Yeonshin advanced with Zhuge Cheonga. There was little time.

She had said that those of clan-head standing were absent for less than half a shichen. She did not even know where they were. She could only guess that they might be on the top floor of Blue Crane Tower, in front of the Alliance headquarters—a place where Eon Hwaryeon and other high-ranking figures indulged in secret revelry.

A Desolate Fortress captain could not contend with a noble clan head. That was as plain as day. An undeniable fact.

Three captains at the farthest reaches of the Black realm had joined forces against the Hwangbo clan head. Just as Jung Yeonshin had killed enemies not far below him in brief, decisive battles, he could suffer the same fate in reverse.

Masters approaching the purple-robed rank were said to wield absolute authority as regional magnates wherever they went. The Zhuge and Murong clan heads, who had merely observed the founding ceremony because of their status and seniority, looked down on the boy as an inferior. Given their age and standing, it was only natural.

'I have to seize it before they return,' the boy thought.

If he failed to secure the Blue Qilin's body in time, he would have launched a preemptive attack on the Zhuge Clan on the flimsiest of pretexts. He would assuredly be cornered. Jung Yeonshin was now violating the inner sanctum of a noble clan established within the Alliance. Even if the Zhuge clan head's fan severed the Radiant Demon Squad captain's neck, no one could protest.

Such were the rules of Murim.

After certain martial artists branded as traitors escaped the extermination of their families through their elusive Mobility Arts, the imperial house had publicly distanced itself from the Desolate Fortress. To preserve the dynasty's dignity, enemies of the Desolate Fortress were no longer deemed traitors.

In the end, the only thing separating the martial world from the Desolate Fortress was a disparity in strength. That was why the Martial Alliance had been formed.

Now that the Alliance existed, the heads of the Eight Families could gather together and seriously discuss taking on the Desolate Fortress.

Martial artists with both justification and force could do anything. This was no ordinary situation. That was why the Desolate Fortress leadership had sent its newly appointed Radiant Demon Squad captain, a talent without precedent—to break the Martial Alliance's morale in advance.

Now came the final act.

It was a race against time.

THUD!

Dust rose every time he kicked off the ground. Walls and halls flashed past like arrows. Even as he ran, he had to keep the onlookers' attention on him. Even viewed as a single, isolated mission, it was extraordinarily difficult.

Reason and anger tangled together. Even as he grounded his core-energy circulation in rational thought, flares of rage kept breaking through. It felt as though a sharp-edged maple leaf had lodged in his head.

A clear ringing in his ears. Movements laden with killing intent. Anger carried upon waves of force. His upper dantian flashing colder than reason.

“The main gate... An intruder...!”

“The young lady is with him!”

“A hostage?”

“It's the Radiant Demon Squad captain! Deploy at full power!”

Many barred his headlong lightness-skill charge. Seven stood in the front rank alone, with more rushing in behind them in successive layers. White cranes were embroidered over the left breasts of their green martial robes, and not one of them showed any sign of underestimating the boy.

The Zhuge Clan's Worthy Heaven Squad. A combat unit evenly composed of men and women. Extraordinary light flashed in every pair of eyes. They specialized in formation-based martial arts—the noble clan's elite.

WHOOOSH!

An unnatural wind rose from their bodies. These were qi waves given tangible form. They billowed like clouds, reaching all the way to his skin.

An obviously profound formation pattern had activated. It must have been the famed Cloud-Soul Severance Formation. He had been told it was no ordinary Enchantment. Rather than using trap devices or surrounding objects, they made their individually cultivated internal-energy methods resonate along particular bearings, simultaneously increasing their strength and slowing their opponent.

The Desolate Divine Spear, Ak Surim, had warned Jung Yeonshin about it before his departure.

[“Sometimes they'll use a weird sword formation even when they know the nature of your internal energy. Don't just rush in. Strip away their qi waves first. When I'd made a mess back at my family home and earned my blue robes, I got cocky with those damned Zhuge bastards and nearly crossed the River of Three Paths all by myself. Don't you do that. They're fucking underhanded. Their joint attacks are a load of shit.”]

He could almost hear that senior chattering in his ear, her speech and behavior having grown young again along with her body.

A combat unit that represented a noble clan was no lower in standing than one under the Divine Sword Squad. They were a formidable force. No one would question their ability to hold even a black-robed expert back for a short while.

He could not allow that.

'Quickly.'

Stripping away an opponent's qi waves was a very vague concept. Few methods existed for it. Jung Yeonshin, however, had exactly the right means.

WHOOSH!

A pitch-black gale wound around the hems of his black trousers. Radiant wheel qi raced through the fine meridians of his legs and scattered into light at the Central Capital points beside his calves. In an instant, the three pressure points at his ankles were clad in formless armor.

The emission formula. The footwork born from the Desolate Fortress Master's wine cup began to stir.

'Evading Swift Step, Second Step.'

BOOM!

It was a step that broke through an opponent's pressure and created combat distance. A pulse of qi spread from his planted foot. Colorless ripples pushed the air outward.

In a flash, they reached the dense qi waves pouring from the seven martial artists and unraveled them in every direction, as though spinning them backward.

The principles of formations were subtle. Their effects arose from harmonized resonance along their respective axes. That held especially true for a formation as convenient to deploy as the Worthy Heaven Squad masters' Cloud-Soul Severance Formation.

Its power dispersed in an instant. Pine needles hovering above their heads began to settle like down.

They were ten paces from the Radiant Demon Squad captain.

“...!”

The Zhuge Clan's Worthy Heaven Squad did not stop charging, though eyebrows twitched and mouths fell slightly open. Was this the noble clan's underlying strength? Their courage as members of its household was tremendous. They rushed him like a keenly honed north wind. Even the dust rising with their footfalls was translucent. Their Mobility Arts were refined.

So were their skills. The formation's axes seemed ready to realign at any moment. Pine needles rose and scattered strand by strand in the qi waves stirring among them once more.

Ideally, they would restore the formation just before clashing with Jung Yeonshin. Even if they failed, they were determined to defend their ground. Otherwise, they risked tangling their movements with the comrades charging in from behind.

It was all right, the boy thought.

The true threat was the returning Zhuge clan head. The small force that had secretly followed him from the Desolate Fortress to safeguard its youngest captain had not intervened even when Jung Yeonshin faced the Martial Alliance's army. Against someone of clan-head standing, however, it would be different.

One misstep could escalate this into a full-scale war between factions, regardless of his original intentions. He had to finish before matters grew tangled.

'Movement technique, Wind Body.'

CRACK!

He violently tightened the long toe-extensor muscles running from his toe joints to his calves with internal energy. Fine muscles throughout his body repeatedly contracted and expanded. Fallen leaves whirled beneath his feet.

The instant a fierce wind brushed his eyelids, the Worthy Heaven Squad warriors' faces suddenly loomed large. He had closed the distance at speed, before the Cloud-Soul Severance Formation could be restored. Zhuge Cheonga's presence, left behind in a flash, now stood among the onlookers.

“Draw swords!”

The Worthy Heaven Squad master in the lead shouted it like a battle cry. Though she had yet to master the shock on her slender face, she leaped gracefully and thrust her sword out. Her leg extended behind her in a straight line with the blade. Making an arrow of her body, she honed her sword strike's wave of force into a single stream. It was a deeply practiced posture of Body-Sword Unification.

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

The enemy ranks spread to either side closed in like the beating wings of a phoenix. Even without the formation's subtle principles, they attacked in concert with extraordinary spacing. Pine needles and maple leaves split against the slender tips of their narrow-bladed swords.

The thrusts' waves of force sounded like rustling leaves. The air rang bleakly. There was no carelessness here. These were strikes with their lives behind them.

Amid the upper dantian's energy detection, accelerating again and again like rays of light, the boy realized anew that his name was now known throughout the land.

He was no longer a rising generation disciple who had made a name in Southern Zhili's Azure Wild Valley, nor a new master called king only within secluded Sichuan. Here in Hanzhong, he had truly entered the domain of the martial world.

He was a supreme master whom all the world now watched.

The world's forests of sabers and mountains of swords would no longer see him as a boy. As befitted the respect shown to a master, even lesser opponents would stake their lives. Powerful fighters capable of contending with Black ranks would prepare killing moves from the outset. Since conquering the founding ceremony, he could no longer hope for lucky breaks.

Unless he faced with all his strength the Mountains of Sabers, Forests of Swords bent on killing the Radiant Demon Squad captain, he would die like the opponents Jung Yeonshin had faced until now.

The Worthy Heaven Squad master's sword descending before his eyes told him as much. He could feel its savage passage through the air against his skin.

'Infinite Blossom Hand.'

The boy planted radiant wheel qi in the Heavenly Gathering point on his right shoulder blade as he contracted the brachialis muscle in his upper arm. The minute movements of muscle and fine meridians amplified his internal energy. In that instant, martial power erupted violently.

Behind his back, the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art exploded like a Thunderclap Bomb. Jung Yeonshin's right fist tore the air apart. With the fist art's wave of force sweeping up past his ear, he smashed in from the side.

Second Move, Formidable Wall.

CLAAANG!

The punch surged upward, swallowing even the rebound. Fragments of the shattered sword mingled with the raging wind. Sunlight reflected in every direction from the metal shards, washing over the Worthy Heaven Squad master's face.

Still airborne, she tumbled away along a twisting trajectory like a leaf, gasping as though the direct impact of discharged force had crushed her breastbone. She had been unable to withstand Formidable Wall's aftershock.

The boy did not pause even at that shrill sound. Coordinated sword strikes were rushing in within a single breath. Three from the left, three from the right.

These movements were indeed specialized for hunting masters of superior martial attainment. It was too late to move out of the way. There was no triumph on their faces. Their expressions were impassive as they closed to point-blank range and drove their swords at him. Even at a glance, they were plainly doing everything they could to leave no gap in their sword assault.

The boy opened the fist he had thrust upward. As his five fingers spread, the falling sword fragments, scattering brilliance, stopped in place.

The straight line of pressure points in his palm—the Lesser Mansion, Palace of Toil, and Central Branch points—grew hot in an instant. The attraction and emission formulas achieved an exquisite balance.

'If the martial world treats me fully as the Radiant Demon Squad captain, then I, too, will conduct myself with the mastery befitting that office.'

Blossoms Raining Across the Sky.

Here, the Zhuge Clan and the Radiant Demon Squad captain clashed without yielding a step. True to his name, the Lightning Genius advanced amid brilliant streaks of light.